There’s a shop in Nemuro called Fashion DoDo. Like that bird it is now just an extinct memory. 

These towns at the end of the line have suffered from the ravages of lost industries and lost children. So many of the shops and eateries, warehouses, houses here are abandoned and collapsing with entropy. 

The constant squawk of the sea birds presents more life than its human occupants. 

The town itself feels like it is at the end of the world, a stillness to the sky and air that the sea breezes cannot dispel. 

I wanted to taste the famed seafood for lunch, but couldn’t find anywhere open to serve it. Eventually I had tempura soba at a hidden restaurant run by a pair of old ladies. 

Naturally I discovered a sushi restaurant near the station on my way back, though one could be mistaken for believing it shut from the outside. 

Almost time to return to Sapporo, a very much living city and absorber of youth, leaving Nemuro for the old. 

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