I finally completed my move to a new apartment at the beginning of the month. Since I relocated within the same neighborhood, there was no drastic change of scenery, except that I'm now a whole lot closer to my workplace. The biggest change this move brought me was the need for new set of furniture, pots, pans and other household items. I've lived in a furnished apartment ever since I moved to Tokyo several years ago, and I realized that I really didn't own anything over here besides a couple of suitcases and duffel bags full of personal belongings. Luckily, a friend who used to live in this new place left her sofa bed, fridge, and TV, so that was a start. I went window shopping at neighborhood stores to purchase the rest of the stuff I needed.

I'm not sure if you know MUJI, a Japanese brand that was all the craze in New York City a while back. I remember watching the news few years ago showing a long, long line of impatient New Yorkers lining up in front of a MUJI store, waiting for it to open. This brand started out as a division of Seiyu Department Store (now owned by Walmart, I think), offering a line of quality merchandise intended to be "brandless" by stripping off excessive packaging and gaudy logos. Now the MUJI brand is a brand by itself, and their products still come in deceivingly simple designs and earthy colors that give consumers the false impression that they're affordable. Although I never thought their products were high-quality, at least the prices used to be decent.

There's a MUJI store almost across my apartment, and although I was not thrilled with their overly simplistic designs and colors, I ended up buying most of my bathroom accessories there for convenience's sake. Boy, my friends hated it. One of my friends was thinking about coordinating his household items with MUJI product, but he said he changed his mind after seeing my place. Yes, it was that bad. The MUJI brand is now spreading globally. A brand that started out as anti-brand is now just as fancy as any other high-end brand out there, but their stuff ended up making my bathroom look like one from a cheap business hotel. Go figure.

I went on a short trip to Katsuura in Chiba Prefecture the other day. Katsuura is about a two-and-a-half hour train ride from where I live, and is known for its beach, surfers, and seafood. My friends and I were invited over by Mrs. Makiko Kanada, wife of Yoshinori Kanada (an extremely talented animator who passed away this July), to offer incense to Kanada-san's departed soul. This gave us a good excuse to take a short break from our busy work schedules and enjoy some time outside of Tokyo.

The area where the Kanada family lives is an elegant community of summer homes built on a hilly, grassy area. It may not be the most convenient location, but it sure is a great place to lead a relaxed, idyllic lifestyle. We didn't quite understand why Kanada-san chose to commute five grueling hours every day until we actually visited. Now that we've seen where he lived, we know why he did. We chatted over at the house for a while, but politely declined Makiko's offer to stay overnight at her house. We knew she already was stressed out from dealing with the passing of her husband, and didn't feel it was appropriate to bother her further by staying at her home as well.

After we returned to our small hotel near the train station, we decided to walk over to another hotel where we were offered free access to its spa facility. This hotel chain is famous for its Ougon- buro (golden bathtub). The bathtub is made of 18k gold and comes with a tacky crown suspended from  above, which you may wear while bathing. It is valued at 150,000,000 JPY (approximately $1,666,250 US) and has been the hotel chain's main attraction for ages. One of the 80 kg (176 lb) bathtubs was stolen a couple of years ago, but was replaced couple of months later. I was determined to try this unique tub experience, but as it turned out, the golden bathtub was not offered to us at the particular facility we had free access to. I guess it was reserved for the main hotel's guests. I texted my friends from the bathing area to see if they had any luck, but they were just as disappointed as I was. Though our enthusiasm was dampened a bit by this incident, we managed to enjoy the rest of our stay, despite a typhoon that was heading towards Japan at the time. Makiko-san was kind enough to drive us around, so the rain didn't affect that many of our plans. We promised to return there in December for a winter nabe party (nabe is stewed veggies and meat or fish in an earthen pot, and is one of the most popular home party foods in Japan). I know there's no sense in wanting to change the past, but I really wished I'd traveled there while Kanada-san was still alive.