In five days we will not live in Shinjuku anymore. Today we began packing up the house and using the word “last” a lot. It makes everything seem extremely significant and precious. The last load of washing, the last shower, the last coffee on the balcony. Such banal things, now so magnified and full of meaning! Now, right now, im writing this as i walk around shinjuku station, trying to find a bank where I can receive a western union money transfer to pay the landlord for the last time.

This is how Shinjuku works: you have goals and destinations but are never able to reach them easily or quickly. There is no “get,” just a long and arduous “getting.” You’re constantly in the process of trying to do something here; trying find a bank, a restaurant, a cheap coffee, an office, an obscure exit, a friend, or perhaps, if you are a bit excited, you could be trying to find a cheap massage from a woman of the night.

I used to hate Shinjuku and do anything to avoid it – taking long and inconvenient routes, riding my bike, staying home. Shinjuku was everything bad about this city. It was overcrowded and proud of that; “the busiest train station in the world.” What a horrible thing to be the best at.

But now I feel connected to Shinjuku. I come here everyday, it meets all my needs and even more, it has shown itself to me, opened up; a kind flasher. Some cities can be known in hours or days. Shinjuku has taken me three years to know. Three years to make a good map in my brain. It feels like the nicest city in the world and I’m very sad to be leaving it.

Photo from the overbridge near the skyscraper district, looking back to Kabukicho.