Shinsekai, Tsūtenkaku, and some Takoyaki

Tsūtenkaku stands at the end of the alley like an urban lighthouse out of commission, a remnant of a time before the dystopian scene that seems to unfold with every step I take.

Looking at it now, from here, you would never guess that once upon a time when this neighborhood was built, it was inspired by New York and Paris. You might never guess there used to be an amusement park smack in the middle of it, either. The entrance to Luna Park Osaka was connected to Tsūtenkaku tower via an aerial tramway. There were mechanical rides, a theatre, a funhouse.

The park closed in 1925, and the original tower damaged in a fire years later in 1943. It was then dismantled, and the steel used as part of the war effort. Afterwards, Shinsekai (which translates into “New World”) fell into disrepair. The current tower was rebuilt by a private company and opened to the public in 1956.

But the closer I get, the more the grays fade and the brighter the lights get.

Within the tower itself there are observation decks, a Billiken whose feet sole you want to rub for good luck, and a diorama of the original Luna Park. Entrance fee is 500 yen.

Underneath the tower, aside from the beautiful mural of flowers and peafowl, there are coin lockers, public restrooms, a police station, a bikeshare, an udon joint, a Takoyaki stand, a cafe, and a souvenir shop.

And although I’d normally avoid eating something regional in such a touristy place (imagine eating a crepe next to the Eiffel Tower – although I am 100% guilty of that too), I don’t know that I’ll have another chance to try Takoyaki in its region of origin.

I’m truly in awe of the skill with which the little balls of octopus and batter are turned in their cast iron molds with a chopstick as the only tool.

The warning from the Hanbai-sha to be careful with the hot balls of dough was not enough to keep me from burning the roof of my mouth. Hopefully they’ll cool down as I wander away from the tower.

Two Nio guardians flank a Billiken at the entrance to a video arcade, one of many found on either side of these alleys along with shooting arcades and other fair-like games.

It may not look like it, but this is the largest shooting range in Japan, measuring 11m long.

JanJan Yokocho, a covered shopping arcade, runs along the west side of the neighborhood.

Inside there are souvenir shops, many Kushikatsu joints which have more varieties of skewers than I can count, and game parlors.

Peeking through a window into a scene that feels like it could end up on r/AccidentalRenaissance, men of all ages play Shogi, Go, and other traditional Japanese boardgames.