Gotsu

Gotsu is one of those places that some might say has one of everything. Only it isn’t, because it doesn’t have a movie theatre.

I haven’t lived in a city this small since before I was aware of my own consciousness, and then, even if I had been aware, would’ve had too small a frame of reference as regards town sizes to comment.

I took this from the carpark at one of my schools sometime last Fall. The things that look like gravestones are gravestones; you'll often find small graveyards like this adjacent to schools.

I live in an apartment that’s nestled between other apartments. Adjacent are a hotel/restaurant, a boxing gym, Route 9 (which connects Gotsu with everything else), a 7/11, and a house with a dog. I wouldn’t ordinarily consider a dog as relevant to describing one’s location, but this dog’s bark is so frightening (and so sudden, like right as I’m stepping out of the shower at 7:15am sudden) it takes a good deal of imagination to think of it as just an ordinary dog. Considering that I only hear it but never see it, and considering it’s more active at night, it could be a restless ghost.

There’s a giant community centre next to Gotsu Station, which looks to be as new to this town as me. It’s probably too large, and too expensive, as I hear the locals have complained about too many of their tax dollars having gone into its construction. Considering it’s a community centre and not a money-printing press, I can understand why one might harbour reservations.

It's also where many a student goes to study when they aren't at school, and thus where, if I don't want to be recognised, I should take care to avoid. So I have reservations of my own.

More striking than its controversial presence, however, is how vastly different it appears against every building around it. The rows of microscopic restaurants that make up the brunt of Gotsu’s ‘city centre’ have more rust on the metal than metal, and more peeling on the wood than wood. Mangled clumps of powerline look as if they’ve been grabbed and pulled from giant machinery. Cracked footpaths and uneven pavement have seen one too many earthquakes. Rust festering on pipes and stairs make you ask where the owners have gone to.

Well, as to that last point, the answer is known. The owners are inside, cooking tonkatsu.

Indeed, the interiors of these same places are healthy and thriving, and new independent businesses are sprouting up in more than a few places. But the buildings themselves – that is, their exteriors – are all in want of repair or demolition.

This includes Gotsu Station itself, which you might use if you ever choose to visit this quaint town. It looks prehistoric, both compared to other stations in Japan as well as other buildings (such as, opposite, the aforementioned community centre).

That said, there’s an ongoing effort to replenish parts of the town centre; and a new western-style-ish café, opened a couple of weeks ago and which serves great espresso coffee, is already doing its job to replenish me.

Speaking of replenishments, a little farther up the road is Youme Town, a mall which opened on Tuesday. It used to be ‘Green Mall’, but I presume Youme bought it out. It’s a good thing, because Green Mall was so old its name was beginning to take on literal elements. The revamped version isn’t all new, more like an HD remake with all the DLC included. It has new paint, a supermarket with consistency to its departments, an Indian restaurant, a good-looking bakery, and every store that had been at Green Mall, but with better textures.

Its temporary closure had left many a local stomach yearning, as it meant the simultaneous closure of Mos Burger, Japan’s primary source of sandwiched beef, and Gotsu’s only burger joint. For the last 5 or so months, whenever my appetite found itself burger-shaped, I had to drive at least half an hour to the nearest McDonald’s, or put up with 7/11’s shelved varieties (which, to be honest, aren’t terrible). Anyway, Mos Burger is back. Good.

Less crucial than burgers is the aquarium, which is decently big (likely bigger than New Zealand’s largest aquarium, anyway). Here you can watch beluga whales spin rings from their blowholes and then swim through them. You can also get really great ice cream.

There are also beaches, wind turbines, wind (often annoying), and several networks of suffocatingly narrow roads. These roads are supposedly two-way, but 8 months later I’m still having trouble believing it. You’d need a good 14 points to a turn to successfully get your car facing the other way. You’re better off finding the nearest driveway and cutting those 14 points down to a handsome six.

There are also pancakes in Gotsu, which can’t be said for most towns this size. Moreover, the road that takes you to the building in which pancakes can be had (you can’t miss it - it’s situated on a hill and taunts you with flags bearing the pancakes/icecream insignia) is very wide indeed. This town knows its priorities.

With six kinds of pancakes, it's difficult for this place to get old; and one of the varieties changes for a new one every season. A friend and I proposed bacon and banana (they have bacon and egg, and chocolate and banana, but no bacon and banana); but alas, next season’s flavour has already been decided. At the time of writing, it’s still a secret. (While the owner's kids go to one of my elementary schools, not even this is enough for him to divulge trade secrets.)

But I shall have to forego pancakes for a couple of weeks, as I’m currently on a Shinkansen bound for Tokyo, and from there a plane to New Zealand. It’s the middle of Golden Week, and half my mind is busy devising ways to ensure a seat on the next train. So, bye!