Three years ago my family moved from within Tokyo to just across the border in Saitama. So close to that border, in fact, that I can open a window and almost spit across the line.
So we still consider ourselves Tokyo-ites and our neighborhood — with its worming streets, castled-up houses and faceless residents — could pass for any neighborhood anywhere inside the metropolis. Or for that matter, for anywhere in Japan.
Yet our new digs do not have some of the amenities of the old. It is an athletic trek to the nearest bus line, for example, let alone the train. The closest post office is a par-five further and the most convenient convenience store is not convenient at all.
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