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@ Terrible restaurants: 2

I will begin from the sequel to the 'worst three'.

'Japanese noodles' I ate .standing at the Anchorage Airport

It was the time when the 'Arctic Route' was still serviced. When an airplane bound for London stopped at the Anchorage Airport for refueling, selfishly thinking "It's not bad to eat a bowl of Japanese noodles here, because I'll be living in the Middle East for several months from now", I tried to eat Japanese noodles, BUT it was a big mistake.


The soup smelled and tasted of oil, by the way it is still a puzzle how they could make such a taste. Immediately after eating at a mouthful of the noodles, I instantly judged that it would be quite impossible for me to eat the noodles, and looked around the surroundings thinking that I couldn't help throw them away somewhere, I found a big and black ash can, about 80 cm diameter and 1 m high, which we could see in any town in America. Thinking that 'this is favorable', I approached the bucket and saw the inside, and the 'ash can' was full of the thrown noodles.

I still remember that I was impressed at such strange patriotism as "Japanese is a really tender race", because the westerners, if they were, would surely send back the noodles and make a strict protest against shop workers.

The 'crashed ice' I ate in the 'tearoom in front of the Yufuin Station' in Kyushu

As there was an interesting job in Kyushu Island, when I went on a trip to Yufuin with three colleagues of mine, we decided to go and see the Yufuin Station designed by famous architect, Arata Isozaki, which had been completed just before. After having seen the station briefly, I enticed my colleagues into eating 'crushed ice' as it was so hot, 'crushed ice' is one of my best favorites, however we could find a typical appearance tearoom, so we instantly entered there with a little expectation to the taste.

We ordered various 'crushed ice' one by one, and the 'crushed ice' ordered by one of the colleagues who is also one of my most respectful graphic designers came to us first. As it took a little bit time for our 'crushed ice' to be offered, I was somehow watching at the graphic designer's eating his 'crushed ice', he suddenly began watering it.

Surprised at and warned I "Your way of eating is insulting 'crushed ice'", because it was unpardonable conduct to me, a mania for crushed ice. His answer was laconic "Without doing this I can't eat it," however I began watering my 'crushed ice' immediately after I ate a mouthful of it.

It was the first and the last for me to have watered 'crushed ice', fortunately.

Though there exists the minimum temperature 'minus 273.15 degrees Celsius,' there is no upper limit in the maximum temperature. Likewise in taste, there exists the most terrible taste 'unable to eat,' but there is no limit in the delicious taste, this is just what I wanted to talk.

A celebrity somewhere asserted that "all happy homes look the same but every unhappy home looks different." The sense of taste is similar to that assertion, this is also what I wanted to talk.

The attached photograph is that Yufuin Station, not that tearoom.

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