A Personal Journey Through Japan’s Castles and Cities

It began, as many childhood stories do, with an emperor. For years, Japan lived in my imagination as a distant fairy tale — a place of golden crowns, embroidered robes, silent gardens, and ancient castles. I never imagined that one ordinary workday, over a routine morning newsletter, that imagined world would suddenly become part of my real-life Japan itinerary. Three weeks later, I was on a plane. ________________________________________ First Steps in the Land of the Rising Sun The moment we landed at Kansai Airport in Osaka, everything I thought I knew about Japan dissolved. After a 12-hour flight and a time zone that made no sense, I stepped into a country that felt almost unreal — precise, calm, quietly extraordinary. Within an hour, we had activated our Japan Rail Pass, boarded a sleek train, and reached Namba. The city rose around us in towering neon layers. Everything was written in Japanese. Everything felt unfamiliar. And yet, nothing felt hostile. That first evening, exhausted but curious, we wandered into a tiny ramen restaurant where there were no chairs — only low tables on raised platforms. Orders were placed through a machine. No waiters. Just a number called out and bowls of steaming soup arriving with chopsticks and a small ladle. It was chaotic and perfect. From our hotel window, Osaka shimmered under the night sky. I fell asleep thinking: this is not a dream. ________________________________________ Chasing Cherry Blossoms and Samurai Spirits Morning in Osaka changed something in me. We made our way through a labyrinth of metro lines — pink women-only carriages, silent commuters in black suits, and almost no one making eye contact. That was my first cultural surprise. In Europe, I would have expected curiosity. In Japan, we were invisible — not ignored, simply allowed to exist without scrutiny. Our destination: Osaka Castle. Standing before its white walls and green roofs, surrounded by blooming sakura, I felt as if my childhood imagination had quietly matured into reality. Inside, samurai armor stood beside holographic displays. Ancient swords shared space with interactive technology. It was history and futurism intertwined. From the top floor, the city stretched endlessly — modern skyscrapers embracing centuries-old tradition. Later, at Umeda Sky Building, I watched Osaka from above with a cold beer in hand. The city felt alive, restless, electric. That evening we ate okonomiyaki — a savory pancake somewhere between pizza and omelet — and I promised myself I would try to recreate it at home. I haven’t yet. ________________________________________ Himeji and the Art of Stillness Our Kyoto experience would come later, but before that, we boarded a train to Himeji. The Shinkansen arrived exactly on time. Of course it did. Himeji Castle — known as the White Heron — rises like a bird about to take flight. Walking through its narrow wooden corridors required removing our shoes. I hesitated. Centuries-old floors and white socks are not always friends. But here was another quiet revelation: after hours of walking, my socks were still spotless. Japan is astonishingly clean. The climb inside the castle was steep and crowded. My husband carefully read every historical plaque. I rushed ahead, already dreaming of shopping streets later in the evening. We are very different travelers. But when we stepped into Koko-en Garden afterward, something shifted. Zen gardens are not decorative. They are emotional landscapes. Under the cherry blossoms, watching office workers picnic during their lunch break, I felt an unfamiliar calm settle in. For a moment, there was no itinerary. No rush. Just stillness. ________________________________________ Tokyo: Where the Future Lives The journey from Osaka to Tokyo — 500 kilometers in 2 hours and 23 minutes — felt like stepping into another dimension. Tokyo Station alone is a city underground. Restaurants, shops, entrances reserved for the Emperor. Twenty-three platforms. A controlled chaos that somehow functions with mathematical precision. Tokyo does not overwhelm you. It absorbs you. In Asakusa, Senso-ji Temple rose in quiet contrast to nearby amusement rides. In Shinjuku, I stood beneath the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building and imagined flying cars lifting off from its terraces. I couldn’t think about the past there. My mind only created the future. At Tokyo Tower, glowing orange against the night sky, we ended the day exhausted but exhilarated. Then came the phone calls. A powerful earthquake had struck elsewhere in Japan. In Tokyo, we felt nothing. Yet I suddenly understood how fragile life can feel in a country that trembles daily. Travel to Japan teaches you not only about beauty, but about resilience. ________________________________________ My Birthday with Mount Fuji On April 16, we set out to meet Mount Fuji. Clouds swallowed the horizon. From Hakone, the sacred mountain was invisible. The cable car was closed due to volcanic activity. I felt disappointed — as if the universe had scheduled my birthday gift and then reconsidered. We improvised. A boat ride across Lake Ashi. Wind. Cold air. No Fuji. And then — just briefly — the clouds shifted. There it was. Faint. Majestic. Almost unreal. I nearly cried. Later, we celebrated in the most unusual way imaginable: at a Japanese spa complex where I bathed in red wine, green tea, coffee, and — yes — ramen broth. It sounds absurd. It was absurd. It was unforgettable. If you ever build a Japan itinerary, leave space for spontaneity. ________________________________________ Harajuku and the Courage to Be Different Our final day in Tokyo belonged to Harajuku. Street fashion in Japan is not a trend — it’s an act of identity. Teenagers dressed as anime characters, neon skirts in freezing weather, platform shoes that defy gravity. They are unapologetically themselves. I was fascinated by footwear — white shoes with black socks, sandals with knee-high stockings, elegant handbags paired with sneakers. I caught myself secretly photographing shoes. Perhaps I was searching for something beyond fashion. Perhaps I was witnessing a society comfortable with individuality within collective harmony. Later, we stood at Shibuya Crossing. Five crosswalks. Thousands of people moving at once. It felt cinematic, unreal. I felt small and strangely alive. At Tokyo Skytree, 350 meters above ground, I hesitated before stepping onto the glass floor. A child walked across it effortlessly. I followed. Sometimes courage is contagious. ________________________________________ Key Moments from This Journey • Landing in Osaka and realizing Japan felt nothing like I expected. • Seeing samurai armor beside holograms inside Osaka Castle. • Walking barefoot through Himeji Castle with perfectly clean socks. • Experiencing Zen tranquility at Koko-en Garden. • Watching the seven-minute precision cleaning of a Shinkansen train. • Catching a fleeting glimpse of Mount Fuji through clouds. • Bathing in wine and ramen broth on my birthday. • Standing in the middle of Shibuya Crossing, suspended in movement. • Discovering the fearless individuality of Harajuku street style. ________________________________________ Why Japan Stays With Me Japan is not simply beautiful. It is disciplined without being rigid, futuristic without abandoning its past, crowded yet deeply respectful of personal space. I went there expecting cherry blossoms and castles. I returned with something else entirely — a quiet admiration for a culture that balances tradition and innovation with effortless grace. Sometimes I still wonder if it was a dream. But then I remember the sound of the metro doors closing exactly on time, the scent of ramen, the wind at Lake Ashi, and Mount Fuji finally revealing itself. And I know it was real.