Three nights in Osaka.

The flight from LAX is delayed, but I’m not complaining.

The new departure time is 0900, which means I get to sleep in a bed before heading to the airport. Originally, I had planned to leave around one in the morning and sleep at the terminal. This is a vast improvement. And Duncan offers to drive me to the airport, which is an added bonus.

The delay continues after we board, however, as we wait for bags to be loaded. Unfortunately, it feels like we’re about to miss our connection until an announcement informs us that there are 50 passengers who headed to Osaka. Passengers are kindly asked to stay seated on arrival in Honolulu to let them disembark first to catch their connecting flight.

It’s amazingly well-organized. For the most part, passengers concede to the request. A cordon has been set up and a series of attendants direct us to our next flight, which waits for us at the gate just opposite from where we deplane. I’m duly impressed and my first act on boarding our connecting flight is to write a thankful email to the airline.

In Osaka, the bags are on the carousel as soon as I arrive at baggage claim. I was unaware that there’s an online declaration I could have filled out and waste some time filling it out on paper before heading to immigration.

I take the train into town, tapping my phone to use the subway. I transfer to the express halfway through, even though I’m in no rush. I’ve been reading my book on the train.

After checking into the hotel I decide to stay in for the night. I didn’t sleep much on the plane, and I’m looking forward to a shower and a lie down. But the draw of the city proves too much and I can’t resist taking a quick look at Dotonbori. It’s not far from the hotel and I want to get a few more steps in before calling it a day. I unpack my camera and head out into the streets.

It’s a surprisingly quiet night, perhaps because it’s a Monday. As I navigate my way to the canal I stop to take in various scenes and to enjoy the feeling of being back in Japan after so many years away.

Dotonbori looks unchanged, but somehow I must have. It’s smaller and less overwhelming than I remember. And while the signs and lights and the crab (though not animated) are all in place it hits me differently than it did on my first trip to Osaka, my first trip to Japan.

Part of it might be the hour; a lot of the stores are closed or are closing. I’m surprised that the city isn’t open later and chalk it up to a Monday night. Part of me had hoped to possibly have my first bowl of noodles, but it’ll have to wait until the morning.

I take a circuitous route back to the hotel, wanting to see a little more of the city before putting myself to bed. It’s great being back in Japan and part of me laments that it’s taken me so long to come back. Japan also feels a little bit like it’s caught in a time capsule, both in my mind and in the scenes that present themselves to me. I feel like I could be me, twenty years younger, capturing the same sights as I am now.

For dinner I stop at the Family Mart at the base of the hotel and pick up rice balls. It’s quick and relatively healthy (I hope).

In the morning I try for a late start, hoping to get more sleep, rather unsuccessfully

Checking Tabelog I find next shikaku, a well-rated oyster-based ramen shop nearby that doesn’t open until 10:30 and decide to make that my first stop of the day. Rightfully fearing lines, I leave the hotel around 10h and am first in line. The ticket machine isn’t yet running but somehow I manage to reset it and purchase the first ticket, perhaps before they’re ready. A woman steps out and looks at my ticket. She walks to the kiosk and resets it.

Inside, I am seated at the lone table, which accommodates maybe 12 diners. The utensils are tucked away in a drawer under the surface. Digital art is projected upon the opposite wall.

The ramen is delicious and, after spying what some of my neighbors have ordered, wish I had added dumplings and some other side dishes. That said, I don’t want to stuff myself in case I came across other things to try on my wanderings around the city. I’ve bookmarked a few coffee shops I’m interested in checking out after breakfast and am curious what snacks I might pick out while enjoying my brew.

On my way out I gather my things and put my coat on. I intend to use the restroom before I leave, but as soon as I stand a woman heads to the door and holds it open for me. I bow slightly and thank her for the meal.

Outside there’s a line snaking around the velvet ropes that have been set up. It’s a little like Disney, and I’m glad that I made the effort to arrive early.

I walk to Notequal Coffee, a highly-rated coffee shop that’s almost directly north from the restaurant, taking in the sights of the city. One thing that strikes me is how quiet everything is. There’s the thrum of traffic, but no honking horns and nobody speaking loudly or shouting at each other. It’s amazing for a city of Osaka’s size.

The coffee shop is small, only a few stools at the bar. There’s another couple sitting at the far end and I take a spot in the center after ordering my drink.

I don’t really have a plan beyond a restaurant reservation in the evening and debate what to do while drinking my coffee. Ultimately, I decide to revisit Osaka Castle. It’s nearby and it’s something to do.

It’s a short walk to the castle and I plan to wander the gardens with no intention of climbing the tower, but once I arrive there’s no line and I decide I might as well check it out once more.

Inside, there’s not much I remember, a few exhibits that I give a cursory glance at on my way back down. My first goal is to get to the top for the views.

At the top I stop to buy post cards before learning that it’s cash only. I don’t have enough. On the ground floor they take credit cards and I pick up a few to write when I find the time.

On the way back I choose a different route, passing a neighborhood devoted to grocery stores and stalls. I’m tempted to buy some fruit, but save myself for dinner.

Back at home I edit some photos and try to take a nap. Ultimately, I give up and wash up and head out with time to spare. A light rain is falling and I bring an umbrella, but choose not to use it, not wanting to deal with a wet umbrella the rest of the night.

The subway is nearby and I walk to the exit indicated on my map and tap to enter.

I’m early to the reservation and wait outside as a large crowd gathers, the men and women separating into distinct groups. They all seem to know each other, which surprises me. I’ll learn why later as I follow them in and begin to seat myself as they all do, the men in one room, the women in another. A woman who speaks English stops me to tell me that the restaurant is booked out for a company event.

One of the restaurant staff pulls out the reservation book and, checking my name and email, tells me I’ve booked for the following night. I apologize profusely and tell them I’ll see them tomorrow and take my leave.

I ride the metro back to the hotel and, after looking at the shops nearby, decide once again to buy my dinner at the Family Mart, selecting a few rice balls and a green tea to serve as my repast.

I spend the next morning writing and find 難波 すし麗, a promising-sounding sushi restaurant for lunch on Tabelog.

I walk around the block a few times trying to find it before realizing it’s on the sixth floor of a building I’ve stood in front of a few times. At the restaurant they can’t find my reservation but seat me anyway. Next to me are a mother daughter from Las Vegas, a woman from South Korean who looks to be filming her meal for social media, and a woman from Hong Kong.

The mother/daughter are on the last day of a ten-day trip to Japan. The daughter has been before but not the mother. Originally from Taiwan, they’re now in the states celebrating the daughter’s residency in gastroenterology.

After lunch I walk back to the hotel and fall asleep, waking up in time for dinner. Once again I take the train to the restaurant. I’m early (by design) and spend a little time walking around the neighborhood making photographs. A light rain gives way to cloudy skies and the light reflects beautifully off the wet pavement.

Dinner is very good. The food feels understated but fresh in a way that really lets the main ingredient shine through. The main dish is crab and the chef brings it out whole before chopping it up before us, serving it to us in radish bowls. The woman beside me and I take photos of the radish boiling in water.

Our final dish is crab rice. By then it’s too much. I scoop out and finish as much as I can, but leave the majority in the bowl. They take the leftovers and make them into rice bowls for me to take home. It’s perfect for lunch.

After dinner I decide to walk home. It’s only about four kilometers and I want to see more of Osaka, especially a night. The streets have dried somewhat but still catch the light, and it’s fun to see who else is walking around at this time of the night.

I detour somewhat to take a last glimpse at Dotonbori and head south through the plaza before Namba City, a large shopping mall that dominates Reaching the block beside my hotel. I’m loathe to head upstairs, wanting to soak in every last minute I have left in the city, but exhaustion threatens to overtake me and I have to say goodnight to Osaka. In the morning I’m to hop on a train for Kyoto, the reverse of my first trip to Japan when I started in the north and came south. I’m meeting up with friends I haven’t seen in over a decade and can’t be more excited to see them. 🇯🇵