It is my first morning in Japan. I walk to a small cafe in Shimokitazawa. The streets are nearly empty. Just a few people wind leisurely along the perfect grey roads between the gentle presence of sun-washed, low-rise buildings. There is not a shred of litter. The people are calm. The people are HOT!! (I hurriedly text my friend).
Japan’s mix of ultra modernity and traditional culture, of city and natural phenomena, has capitulated it into a god-like travel destination. I had just 8 days to get a taste of it. This is what I got up to…
Day 1: Tokyo
After exploring Shimokitazawa and enjoying some beautiful vegan pastries at Universal Bakes, I wandered to Meiji Jingu Shrine – a Shinto shrine located deep within an inner-city forest. It’s a moody, enchanting walk punctured by a tea house, a pond, a well, and towering wooden ‘torii’ gates. The adjacent Yoyogi park is a lighter, brighter space with wide lawns and cherry blossom-lined lakes.
I spent the afternoon on a vintage crawl of the city, navigating cat street, with vintage shops like 11201, keshiki, boy, and toro. Later, I visited the more touristy area of Harijuku, to soak up the famed fashion culture and hope it might rub off on me (and also gawk into the Mipig pig cafe).
I finished my day by eating my body weight in gyozas and collapsing into my hostel bed, feeling zen, despite the fact I was sharing the rabbit-warren-esque room with around 30 strangers.
Day 2: Tokyo
Day two — my final day in Tokyo had come around quickly — It was time to lock in and get some serious sightseeing done. I started on a breakfast hunt in the nearby district of Nakameguro, where the late-season sakura petals, lit by the early morning sun, were drifting slowly and romantically into the Meguro river.
After an obligatory scramble through Shibuya Scramble Crossing, I reached my first destination, Shibuya Sky. While there are three prominent observation decks in Tokyo (including Tokyo Skytree and Tokyo Metropolitan) I believe this one reigns supreme. It is a vast open-air rooftop, where, alongside enjoying the spectacular city views, you can sunbathe, people watch, and sprawl across its giant, grassy helipad.
After beautiful sushi at Vegan Sushi Tokyo, I journeyed to Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden. I was completely awestruck at the sheer amount, and variety, of cherry blossoms stretching across these magnificent gardens. It is a truly magical space, a must-visit, and probably one of the most beautiful reading spots in the world.
In contrast, my evening reservation at Tokyo Skytree, did not live up to the hype. The place was SO rammed. Sandwiched in, I shuffled slowly with the crowds, craning forward to peek at the view beyond the thick windows. Attempting to find the exit and escape this place was a mission in itself. My evening was thankfully saved by Jikasei Mensho and a giant bowl of the best ramen i’ve ever eaten.
Day 3: Mount Fuji
It’s 5.30am and my alarm goes off, screaming at me to wake up and get ready for my 6.45am bus to Mount Fuji. The convenience stores welcome me into their arms for a hodgepodge breakfast which I scarf down despite the disgusting hour.
I’d initially looked into a bike tour, and was quoted, brace yourself, £645. I decided to go for the slightly more budget-friendly option of a rental bike and a DIY tour, racking up a total bill of £8.
For the first hour or so, it was hailing so hard that I was shrieking in pain from the hailstones slamming onto my bare legs. I whipped out my emergency rain poncho that I had been saving since 2022, the time had finally come. At Lake Kawaguchiko, the first lake, I had to stop and reevaluate my life. I found some emotional support Oyaki dumplings which were piping hot, stuffed with miso-y, jammy leeks, and honestly some of the best, and most comforting, bites i’ve ever taken.
I was under the impression that cycling the Fuji Five Lakes was a popular choice, but it unfolded that literally everyone else was taking a tour bus, and being ferried between each lake in style. Soaking wet and having torn a massive hole in my poncho in a fight with a gate, any shred of style, or dignity, had already left me. This, coupled with a sizable monetary investment into my choice of transport, meant I gave myself a stern talking to, and decided to continue.
Aspects of this cycle ride felt decidedly dodgy. There were dark, seemingly endless, tunnels with cars racing through them which I worried might just swallow me up for good. I found refuge at Cafe Misake and after the questionable decision of several cups of coffee (as an anxiety-driven caffiene-phobe), I was in a shaky delirium which propelled me to persevere.
This is when the sun came out and the journey became all rather magical. With each lake, the looming presence of Mount Fuji became greater and even more astounding. I don’t think I will ever forget these landscapes, and the feeling of racing through them. I felt proud of myself and my rickety, basketed city bike for completing the challenge. Please enjoy the below photo to commemorate my momentous trip, beautifully obscured by my finger.
Day 4: Kyoto
One bus and one bullet train later, I arrived in Kyoto. I sat across from the lovely owners of Taj and ate a big bowl of not-so-japanese but incredibly soothing nepalese dal and rice. Morning came and I diligently queued at Gokago for their ‘extra-rich’ matcha latte. I sipped and strolled through the magnificent Kiyomizu-dera temple, which is perched right on the edge of the city and surrounded by lush, green forest. My Ghibli dreams were unfolding before me.
I spent the afternoon traversing the long stretch of Nishiki market, filled with local delicacies – pickles, sweets, the occasional tentacle, before enjoying dinner at Izakaya Masaka.Their plant-based take on traditional japanese karaage came deliciously crunchy and drowned in sticky black vinegar sauce. I ended the night with my new comfort snack, the questionable-in-appearance but oh-so-delicious 7- Eleven chocolate tofu bar. Don’t knock it till you try it.
Day 5: Kyoto
I began day five by cycling to Arashiyama Bamboo forest, a journey which took me along the Katsura river and past many Kyo-machiya – traditional Japanese wooden houses. The forest has an interesting beauty, and there are peaceful pockets within it, but like many attractions I was one in a sea of hundreds of tourists, despite the early hour.
Determined to see more of Kyoto, I bus-hopped to the gorgeous Golden Temple, shining brightly in the afternoon sun, and finished with a surprisingly-arduous-but-equally-beautiful trek through the popular Fushimi Inari Shrine. Kyoto is bursting at the seams with stunning temples, the game is squeezing them all in.
Day 6: Nara
It’s day 6. I admire my newly cloven-toed feet atop the smooth, woody feel of my tatami-matted room. A birthday gift to myself, I exchanged the tiny hostels for two nights in a traditional Japanese onsen ryokan.
On my 25th birthday, it was warm and sunny. I engaged in the ceremonious activity of half feeding/half being eaten by the precious bowing deers of Nara Park. The whole area feels like a dreamy fairytale forest filled with mossy lanterns, winding walkways, and hidden temples.
Later, I ate vegan basque cheesecake (?!?) from Onwa and whiled away the afternoon by the central lake, inside the pages of my book. I tripped and fell into many of the gorgeous ceramic shops, and decided to really test the bounds of Peach Aviation’s personal item policy. I found the perfect pair of vintage jeans (the gods were clearly looking down on me) and then spent my evening slowly, savouring the peace of the steaming onsen baths.
Day 7: Osaka
A swift morning train later, and I was enjoying a slightly random but nevertheless delicious Jamaican meal at RE-public, before mooching through the charming Nishi ward, and its endless rails of vintage tees. I later lounged in the nearby Utsubo park, people-watching, reading and reflecting.
Osaka marked my return to crazy hostel living, and Kamagasaki University hostel really delivered this experience with gusto. It’s a second-hand book store/arts cafe with a focus on communal living, daily family meals, a wonderful courtyard garden, and dizzying, patterned walls elaborately painted by local artists.
Later, I ate at OKO. This brightly-painted okonomiyaki restaurant had a healthy queue all evening, despite writings on the wall forbidding it. They provide baskets of random snacks and sacks of peanuts to fuel you through a strange liminal tunnel of colourful commands and declarations to be deciphered. Once you reach the end, you are confronted with a small serving hatch with one lone woman racing around a tiny kitchen, preparing okonomiyaki at breakneck speed.
She takes several orders, hangs a cardboard sign to communicate her hiatus back to the kitchen, and so proceeds a steady stream of steaming, tin-foiled baskets churned out into the hands of hungry, slightly faint from the queue, guests. OKO boasts a completely open bar, where you pay the equivalent of £1, squeeze a rubber chicken, and then make whatever drink you’d like from a huge selection of local spirits/mixers/draft beer. Naturally, I concocted a strange, panic-induced, mix – shochu, grape syrup and grapefruit juice. I devoured my hearty, potatoey mountain of goodness before making some wonderful German friends who showed me their favourite izakayas, and led me to the lively heart of Osaka city.
Day 8: Osaka
For my final day in Japan I cycled through the city to a traditional tea ceremony. It was simple and contemplative and I learnt much about the history within the green, foamy substance that has captured the desire of the world over.
I enjoyed a taste of home in a roadside roasted sweet potato, caught the end of the Osaka Ultra 100k race, marvelled at the mighty stones of Osaka castle, read and enjoyed the last strands of sun streaming through the river-side trees, and completed the day with sushi and a life-changingly good salted bun from Mercy Vegan Factory.
My final night was lost in a blink, and I was on a plane home to Hong Kong at 7am the following morning.
If you’ve made it this far, I congratulate you. My trip, albeit short, gave me so much culture, perspective and admiration for the intricate ways which humans carve out meaningful lives and communities. Japan delights in simple structures of convenience and comfort, in the conservation of extraordinary history, religion, and architecture, and in the powerful ways we can coexist with the omnipotent forces of nature. I will be back!
Enjoy your adventures,
Lois x
