On a pleasant February evening, my husband and I squeeze onto a bench, and into each other at a makeshift stall near Naka river in Fukuoka. What would have ideally been a romantic moment is in reality an attempt to find space among the 10 other diners, mostly locals, around the U-shaped counter. The familiar aroma of tonkotsu ramen broth (noodles in a broth made from pork marrow) wafts from the bare-boned kitchen behind the counter. As the last rays of the sun fade out, the dozen other neighbouring yatais — small, mobile restaurants specialising in the local ramen and yakitori (grilled meat) — are running to full houses. The background score for the moment is slurping, considered a sign of appreciation in Japanese culture.

Following the ravages of World War II, the yatais wheeled out of the rubble, and lit their red lanterns to welcome eaters with their comfort food offerings. And to this day, this form of al fresco dining is considered a quintessential Fukuokan experience. Based on our first meal in this canal city, it’s safe to say, if you’ve had ramen anywhere in the world but Fukuoka, you haven’t had ramen at all.

Fukuoka hadn’t figured in our original itinerary and was supposed to be just a stopover before continuing to the glitzier Osaka.

But our travel plans headed for an alteration the minute we stepped out of Hakata station. First impressions — the weather and people are warmer than, say, Tokyo and Kyoto. Despite the size, the metropolis has a relaxed, easy-going vibe.

Fukuoka sits on the northern tip of Kyushu, the southernmost of Japan’s four main islands. Historically split by the Naka river between the castle town of Fukuoka and the merchant quarters of Hakata, the two cities merged in 1889. Today, past and present lie hidden amid the modern precinct with its chic boutiques and arcades, in a series of timeworn temples that reveal the history behind Fukuoka’s cosmopolitan facade.

The best place to start taking in the city is Taihaku-dori Avenue, a few minutes away from the Hakata train station. With eight lanes, this is one of the widest streets in Fukuoka and has as many as a dozen historical monuments. Our first stop is Tochoji, a temple dedicated to the Buddhist saint Kukai, who built it in 806 AD, with its seated 33-ft-tall wooden Buddha. As we stand admiring the statue, we spot people entering from a small door to the left. It is a trip through the ‘Hells of Buddhism’, where one can view the coloured reliefs of souls burning in hell. Guided by the railing, we walk through the dark, curvy passageway and emerge before a painting of three Buddhas, symbolising paradise. After the intense experience, we take a breather before crossing to the other side of the road. Across the road is Jotenji, a wooden temple built in 1242 by a Chinese merchant. Around the central temple are a series of shrines set amid rock gardens. But the most historic building in the city is the spectacular Shofukuji, the first Zen temple of Japan, on which the others were modelled. Revered Zen Master Yosai, who oversaw its construction, also introduced tea to Japan.

A short walk from the Taihaku-dori Avenue is Hakata Canal City, a shopping centre with five floors of shops, multiplex cinemas, hotels, an amusement park and an abundance of overhanging vegetation, all built around a 200-m channel. We decide to skip the shopping and head straight to the Ramen Stadium on the fifth floor. The food court has eight restaurants, each boasting a different flavour and style of ramen. Like everywhere in Japan, there is no sign of an English menu. Hoping that our order looks as good as it does in the pictures, we settle for a ramen noodle broth and gyoza (fried dumplings, a Hakata speciality). The meal doesn’t disappoint — the noodles are nice and firm, the broth flavourful, the egg perfectly cooked and golden from inside, while the pork is tender. A typical bowl of noodle soup is topped with slices of meat, mushrooms, spring onion, pickled red ginger and seaweed. If that’s not enough, the soup can be seasoned at the table with toasted sesame seeds and garlic.

After a couple of hours at the mall’s coffee shop, we walk towards Oyafuko Dori, or the ‘Delinquents’ Street, in the older part of the city. In the early ’90s, this thin stretch was lined with prep schools and later became a centre for the Mentai Rock movement. Today, the lane is populated with nightclubs, bars and karaoke joints, but the neighbourhood’s deeply embedded history and unique culture ensured that the original nickname remained. After a drink or two at a lively izakaya (traditional pub), we slowly head back to the hotel. As we leave Oyafuko Dori behind, we can still feel the steady pulse of Fukuoka in this old neighbourhood.

Sayoni Sinha is a Mumbai-based writer

Related Topics