Osaka ~ seventeen years later
Technically, this was not my first time in Osaka. Seventeen years ago I passed through on a day trip from Kyoto to attend a Kabuki performance at the Osaka Shochikuza Theatre, never venturing more than a few blocks from the building. This time I was coming to actually explore the city, and I was curious. I had heard Osaka was different, looser and more expressive than Tokyo or Kyoto, and I wanted to see it for myself.
Arriving at Osaka Train Station felt like descending into an underground city. Endless corridors, multiple levels, a constant flow of people moving quickly in every direction. After some trial and error I found the connecting train to Namba, and stepping out into the Dotonbori area I was stopped in my tracks by a familiar sight: the Osaka Shochikuza Theatre, exactly as I remembered it, unchanged while everything around it had shifted and grown. It was one of those quiet travel moments that catches you off guard.
Dotonbori itself was something else entirely. I arrived as the sun was going down and the streets were already alive. Massive illuminated billboards stacked overhead, loudspeakers broadcasting in every direction, restaurant staff calling out to anyone who passed. I felt like I had wandered onto the set of a Blade Runner film. The energy was raw and unfiltered, grittier and more unstructured than anything I had experienced in Tokyo, and I found myself completely absorbed by it. I ducked into a ramen shop to escape the crowds and recharge, then headed back out for more.
Great Buddha
My first full day took me to Nara, a short train ride from Osaka and a complete change of pace. Nara Park is expansive and peaceful, with deer roaming freely across the grounds. The moment I bought a packet of Shika Senbei, the special deer crackers sold throughout the park, I was surrounded. These animals have absolutely no shyness around visitors, a fact I learned quickly and enthusiastically.
Deep within the park I visited Kasugataisha Shrine, approached by a long path lined with hundreds of stone lanterns set among ancient trees. Attendants were quietly maintaining the grounds as I arrived, and the whole place carried a sense of stillness that I did not want to disturb. From there I made my way to Tōdai-ji Temple, home to the Daibutsu, a fifteen meter bronze Buddha commissioned in 752 by Emperor Shōmu to promote peace and unify the nation. I stood before it for a long time. I had seen it seventeen years ago and it moved me then. Standing there again, older and with more of the world behind me, I think it moved me even more.
My second day in Osaka was the Fourth of July, and I celebrated American Independence Day the only way that made sense: by spending twelve hours at Universal Studios Japan in ninety degree heat. There is something genuinely fun about experiencing a familiar place through a different cultural lens. The characters and rides I recognized, but the live shows had a distinctly Japanese sensibility, visually inventive and completely committed to the spectacle. The Wizarding World of Harry Potter and Super Nintendo World were both extraordinary, the kind of immersive environments where you forget you are in a theme park at all. I ate too many themed snacks and did not regret a single one.
Himeji Castle
On my third day I took the train to Himeji to revisit one of the highlights of my trip seventeen years ago. Himeji Castle was built in 1583, stands nearly fifty meters tall, and is one of the best preserved historical structures in all of Japan. Walking through its wooden interior, climbing the steep staircases and moving through the narrow hallways, I was struck all over again by the sophistication of its design. Built for both defense and ceremony, every detail of the structure reflects centuries of Japanese ingenuity. Having visited castles across the UK and Ireland, I noticed familiar elements, defensive turrets, small archer windows, a commanding central keep. But Himeji has its own unmistakable character, and standing inside it after all these years I felt the same sense of awe I felt the first time.
Osaka surprised me. It is not as immediately polished or orderly as Tokyo, and it does not carry the quiet historical weight of Kyoto. It is something else, spontaneous and expressive and completely itself. I only scratched the surface of the city and the broader Kansai region, and I left already thinking about what I had missed and when I might come back to find it.