An Unexpected Late Night Adventure by Sam

One evening in Kyoto, we were biking around at sunset, trying to get some photos while there was still light out. Grant had stopped to get a shot of a vending machine, but he was waiting to take the photo until someone actually used it. We were just standing around when this middle-aged Australian guy rode up on his bike. He was wearing what looked like a dark cloak and asked if he could stay and watch Grant take the photo because he thought it was “interesting.”

So, the three of us sat there, quietly waiting for a stranger to buy a drink. Eventually, someone did, Grant got the shot, and that’s when things started to get weird.

The vending machine photo in question

The guy started telling us about how earlier that day, he randomly ran into an old best friend he’d had a falling out with years ago. He talked about misunderstandings and fate and then, mid-story, pulled a pair of speakers out of his bike basket, set them down on the pavement, and started playing music he said he had made—chill lofi beats echoing through the quiet Kyoto street.

As if on cue, another man walked by. The Australian guy shouted his name and rushed in for a hug. Turns out, this guy also knew the ex-best-friend, and they’d all been close back in the day. He chatted with us briefly, but left soon after, saying, “Whenever someone blasts music in public, the cops come. I’m not trying to get involved.” Fair enough.

Back to just us and the music guy. He looked at our bikes and said, “If you want, I can take you to the coolest, most hidden places in Kyoto. No tourists. You’ve never seen anything like it. You’ll get the best photos of your trip.” 

My gut reaction was: this is how true crime documentaries begin. But something about him was weirdly welcoming, so we figured, why not? We didn’t have any plans and we decided to see where the night would take us.

The first stop was a statue he claimed no tourists ever saw. We had actually seen it earlier that week, but at night, it did feel more mysterious. He raved about a secret 100-yen Lawson store that was supposedly hidden and always empty. When we got there, two people were casually walking out, and it was barely tucked away at all.

Next was a temple he’d renamed “The Gates of Hell.” It was dramatic, especially since temples are generally meant to be the exact opposite of hell.

Sunset at Kiyomizu-dera by Sam

He talked a lot—mostly about himself, he definitely thought he was the main character. But mixed in were surprisingly insightful facts about Kyoto, its beautiful neighborhoods, and some negatives of the city. For our final destination, he took us down a dark alleyway filled with bars that had men standing outside in suits. He said this was where some of the Yakuza (Japanese organized criminals, similar to the Mafia) operated. It was interesting to see, if it was even true, but I didn’t want to spend too much time there.

At some point, he told us the Yakuza were after him and that they had come to his place and flipped his front door upside down. Honestly, that one lost me. He also declared his love for Korean women, saying he was glad he lived in Japan and not Korea otherwise “there’d be trouble.” Then casually mentioned his deep affection for Minnie Mouse.

Yeah. Minnie Mouse.

From our walk home

Unfortunately we took zero photos that night on our multiple hour adventure with this man, the streets were too dark and we were biking around with few to no stops. We made it back to the bike shop to return our bikes just in time, and had to do a long walk home because the buses had stopped running by then. But, now every time I see anything Disney-related, especially Minnie, I think about that night in Kyoto and the cloaked, lofi-blasting, Yakuza-dodging, Minnie-loving Australian man. Easily the most bizarre and fascinating person we met on our trip.

Thanks for reading! - S & G