Part One left us in Tokyo with sore legs and no Shania Twain. This is the middle stretch: four days that started with our first bullet train and ended on a beach on Miyajima, watching a torii gate stand in the tide. Somewhere in between was the hardest morning of the trip and one of the best dinners. Same as before, these are the nightly entries as I wrote them.
Day 6: The Shinkansen, and a castle with a flair for drama
Today we officially left Tokyo, but at least we did it in style: our first-ever Shinkansen ride.
Let me tell you. Wow.
These trains are huge. They stretch on so long I’m convinced the front end was already in Osaka before the back end finished boarding in Tokyo. And once they get going? They FLY. Not turbulent, not loud, just smooth, quiet, “I could sip tea during an earthquake” energy. The only way you know you’re moving at 200-plus miles an hour is by watching the scenery blast past the window like someone hit fast-forward on Japan.
We settled into our wonderfully comfy seats. Matt immediately fell asleep and made me promise to wake him if Mt. Fuji showed up. Spoiler: she did not. Fuji was fully wrapped in clouds, probably hiding from tourists. We consoled ourselves with ekiben bento boxes, because apparently eating on a bullet train is a national sport, and we are here for it.
Our Tokyo hotel was adorable in that “we’re going to trip over each other for five days straight” way. Also, Matt spent half the time pushing every button on the bidet like it was an escape room puzzle.
But our Osaka hotel? Palatial. I’m talking ROOM to walk in. Space for luggage that isn’t on the bed. A bathroom that doesn’t require choreography. Although there is a window from the bedroom into the bathroom and I’m still trying to emotionally unpack that.
Once we checked in, we headed straight for Osaka Castle, which is not only stunning but also has a flair for the dramatic. Built in the 1500s, burned down, rebuilt, burned again, rebuilt again. Honestly it has more comebacks than Cher.
The walls? Massive. The moat? A whole personality. The gates? Absolutely ready for their close-up.
We climbed all eight stories to the top just in time for a sunset view over Osaka that felt like we’d unlocked a hidden achievement.
We found yet another karaoke bar just a couple blocks from our hotel, because at this point we are basically Tokyo Drift-ing into the karaoke lifestyle. Two hours of singing, tons of drinks, piles of food, and a performance level I would describe as “unhinged confidence with a beat.” Still no Shania Twain on the song list (a hate crime, honestly), but we remain determined.
We closed out the night with takeout from 551 Horai. Gyoza, steamed pork buns, dumplings. Basically everything comforting and delicious.
And now? We collapse. Osaka, we love you already. More adventures ahead over the next few days, and based on today’s start, I think this city is ready to test us.
Day 7: Universal Studios, and the sewer warp pipe where my cultural ambitions went
We’re still in Osaka, soaking up all the culture, food, temples, shrines, and historic goodness that makes this city amazing. But also, let’s be real: Osaka is home to Universal Studios Japan.
Now listen. When we first planned this trip, I absolutely intended to go. It was sitting right next to Disney on my must-do list. But then I had a whole moment where I thought, “Patrick, you should focus on culture. You’re here to learn. To grow. To deepen your understanding of Japan.”
And then Chris and Shauna casually said, “We want to go too.”
And suddenly all my noble cultural ambitions fell straight into the sewer warp pipe where they belong.
So today was Universal Studios Japan. The third most visited amusement park in the world. And I swear one third of the world’s population was there with us, because IT. WAS. PACKED.
We did it all. We narrowly escaped becoming fish food in Jaws. We soared through the sky like confused pterodactyls. We were transformed into chaotic Minions (honestly not a huge stretch). We downed a few Butterbeers because vacation. And then we entered SUPER NINTENDO WORLD.
Three acres of pure, beautiful chaos. I have never seen so many people trying to take selfies while simultaneously smashing invisible question blocks in my life. It was like stepping into the live-action version of every Mario dream and nightmare at once. We rode with Yoshi. We flew through a mine with Donkey Kong. We watched Mario, Luigi, and Princess Peach sprint around like they were late for a tax appointment. We avoided rogue Koopa shells (in spirit), dodged Goombas (emotionally), and nearly lost our sanity trying to navigate crowds thicker than Bowser’s ego.
Shauna was a champ. She endured all the chaos with grace. I’d give her a gold star if I had one, or at least a green mushroom.
After surviving Nintendo World’s three-acre pressure cooker, we headed back toward the hotel and found a cozy spot for yakitori.
Tomorrow, we divide and conquer. Chris and Shauna are heading to Nagasaki for the weekend, promising to keep us updated like field reporters. Matt and I are staying in Osaka to continue our adventures and eat our body weight in street food.
Osaka, we adore you. More tomorrow, assuming we recover from the theme-park cardio.
Day 8: Osaka on foot, until both our watches died
This morning we said goodbye to Chris and Shauna as they headed off to Nagasaki for their weekend adventure, and then it was just the two of us left to explore Osaka on our own. And by “explore,” I mean walk until both our watches died. Completely done. Finished. They tapped out long before we did, which I’m taking as confirmation that we shattered some sort of personal record. Our legs certainly believe it.
We started the morning at Yodogawa Riverside Park, enjoying a peaceful stretch of river before Osaka remembered who it is and turned the volume back up to neon-chaos level. From there we wandered over to the Umeda Sky Building, riding those sci-fi glass escalators that look like they were designed by a futuristic architect with a flair for drama. The views up top were incredible. Osaka just stretches on forever, like it’s trying to make a point.
After that, we simply wandered, which really is the best way to experience this city. One moment we were strolling down a quiet street, and the next thing we knew, we were in Shinsekai, staring at Tsutenkaku Tower glowing proudly over a retro wonderland. A few more random turns and suddenly we were in America-Mura, Osaka’s quirky tribute to 90s American pop culture, complete with street art and fashion that made me question if I needed to reinvent myself. Then somehow, without trying, we drifted into Orange Street, the stylish design district full of boutiques and cafés that make you feel cooler just by standing near them. And, of course, because Osaka has a sense of humor, we eventually found ourselves swallowed by Dotonbori, where giant neon crabs and glowing signs practically yell “WELCOME BACK!” at you.
We also got an update from Chris and Shauna. They made it to Nagasaki after a five-hour train ride, and their hotel room overlooks the ocean. Upper 60s, beautiful, peaceful, the whole postcard experience. Meanwhile, Chris committed the ultimate act of betrayal and went to McDonald’s without me.
It’s okay. I’m fine. Really.
And anyway, we had kushikatsu, so I’m calling that a moral victory. Matt and I even made a game out of who would end up drawing the octopus or eel skewer. The universe chose Matt. For both. I have never been so grateful for randomness.
By the time we found our way back to the hotel, our feet were writing resignation letters. We wrapped up our last night in Osaka with a drink on the rooftop lounge, watching the city light up beneath us. The perfect ending to our stay in this wild, wonderful place.
Tomorrow we’re up very early as we head to Hiroshima and try to cram as much as possible into one day. So yes, more walking. Obviously.
Osaka, we’ve loved every chaotic, colorful, exciting minute. Next stop: Hiroshima.
Day 9: Hiroshima, and then Miyajima
We were up at an hour that should honestly be illegal so we could catch the Shinkansen to Hiroshima. At this point, we’ve taken enough bullet trains that I’m considering putting “Shinkansen-certified” on my résumé. They’re so smooth and quiet that half the time I’m convinced we’re not even moving, until I look out the window and the entire landscape is blurred like it was running late. Magic.
Our first stop was the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park, and wow. I don’t think anything can prepare you for what it feels like to actually be here. The moment you walk in, everything shifts. It’s quiet, peaceful, heavy, all at the same time. The A-Bomb Dome stands there exactly as it was left, and seeing it in real life is surreal. It doesn’t yell or demand. It just exists. And that alone is powerful.
Inside the Peace Memorial Museum, the crowd moved slowly and quietly. You could hear soft crying throughout, and honestly, it’s impossible not to tear up. The stories, the belongings, the children’s items, the photos. It all hits you in waves. And it’s one of those experiences where you think, “I’ve learned this before, but I’ve never felt it like this.”
Outside, the Peace Bell echoed across the park, and the Children’s Peace Monument was surrounded by thousands of colorful paper cranes. I immediately thought of Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes, a book I haven’t read since I was little, but suddenly every detail was back, and standing there in person made it ten times more emotional.
We left the park quiet, a little numb, but really grateful we came. It’s not easy, but it’s important.
After a calming lemonade along the river (which should honestly count as a coping mechanism), we boarded the ferry to Miyajima, and it was like flipping the universe’s mood switch.
Miyajima is gorgeous. Peaceful, colorful, charming. Deer were wandering around like they were the official welcoming committee, and honestly, they were adorable but also gave major “I live here, don’t touch my snacks” energy. The floating torii gate was just as stunning as every photo I’ve ever seen of it.
We wandered through little alleys and shops before attempting to take the ropeway up Mount Misen. And of course, the tickets were sold out, and neither of us was about to voluntarily climb two miles STRAIGHT UP. I know who I am as a person. And I know who my knees are.
So instead we did a three-mile walk around the mountain, which ended up being perfect. The forest was full of maples in every color of red and orange you can imagine. Back home we call them Japanese maples. Here they’re just trees. Casual. Beautiful. Everywhere.
Before catching the ferry back, we grabbed taiyaki, those warm fish-shaped pastries filled with custard or sweet bean. Basically a hug in dessert form.
Updates from the Nagasaki branch of our little travel party: they ran five kilometers around Nagasaki this morning. Like, for fun. On vacation. Then they had a peaceful day reading in the park, overlooking the ocean in upper-60s sunshine. Basically, they’re living their best gentle, relaxing travel lives. Meanwhile, we are continuing the “Walk Until Your Ankles File For Divorce” Tour of Japan.
We grabbed dinner tonight, and I’m going to let you in on a secret: eating out in Japan is a foodie paradise AND stupidly cheap. We got giant plates of chicken AND wagyu beef, plus soup, salad, rice, AND a beer, for $16 each. In America that same meal would cost approximately your car payment, three coupons, and a small prayer.
Tomorrow we head to Kyoto, where I’m hoping we’ll slow down a little. But knowing us, we’ll be scaling temples by 9 a.m. and logging 20,000 steps before lunch. There’s always hope. But I’m not betting on it.
Halfway
Nine days in, and the trip had already split into two things. There was the loud, glowing, neon version, all karaoke and theme parks and giant crabs, and then there was a morning in a quiet park that neither of us has stopped thinking about. Japan holds both without any trouble. I’m still learning to.
Part Three, Kyoto and the road home, is next.
— Patrick