Cherry Blossoms and Neon Nights: My 12-Day Japan Journey

My wife and I embarked on a 12-day adventure in Japan, a trip that took me from the dazzling modern streets of Tokyo to the historic temples of Kyoto and the vibrant food alleys of Osaka. As a personal injury attorney by trade and a passionate travel and landscape photographer at heart, I relish the chance to step away from the office and immerse myself in new places with camera in hand. Visiting Japan in early April 2024 was a long-awaited dream – timed perfectly to catch the cherry blossoms in full bloom. Armed with an appetite for exploration (and sushi), we set off on a journey that would excite my senses and leave me with thousands of photos and countless memories.

Tokyo: Bright Lights and Blossoms

Our journey began in Tokyo, a city that truly pulsates with energy. After a long flight from New Orleans (with a layover in Denver), I landed at Tokyo’s Narita Airport on a mild April afternoon. Jet lag tugged at my eyelids, but the thrill of finally arriving in Japan gave me a second wind. Navigating the airport was surprisingly smooth; we breezed through customs, then hopped on the Narita Express train into the heart of the city. The scenery out the train window transitioned from tranquil suburban neighborhoods to a dense urban skyline as I neared Shinjuku, the district where I’d be staying.

Stepping out of Shinjuku Station at dusk felt like walking into a movie set. Neon signs and giant video screens bathed the streets in a kaleidoscope of color. Throngs of people flowed in every direction, yet everything felt orderly and efficient. My hotel was conveniently located in the buzzing Kabukicho area of Shinjuku – Tokyo’s famous nightlife district. In fact, the hotel even had a life-sized Godzilla statue perched atop its roof – a quirky Tokyo touch that made me grin despite my exhaustion. After dropping off our bags and freshening up, we ventured out into the Shinjuku night, camera in hand, determined to make the most of my first evening in Japan.

We soon found myself drawn into the warren of narrow alleys known as Golden Gai. In this tiny pocket of Shinjuku, dozens of micro-sized bars are packed along six cramped alleyways. Many of these watering holes can fit only a handful of patrons at once, each bar boasting its own distinct theme and décor. I gingerly opened the door of one dimly lit bar, ducking to avoid hitting my head on the low doorway. Inside, we found a cozy den decorated with old jazz posters and a miniature disco ball rotating from the ceiling. Three locals were chatting with the bartender, and they all greeted us with warm, easy smiles. Squeezed into that tiny bar – listening to a salaryman croon along to an Elvis song playing on the radio – we felt any remaining travel fatigue melt away. It was the perfect introduction to Tokyo’s nightlife: intimate, unpretentious, and full of interesting characters.

A few blocks away, we wandered through Omoide Yokocho, aptly nicknamed “Memory Lane.” This atmospheric alley, tucked beside the train tracks, is lined with closet-sized eateries specializing in yakitori (grilled skewers) and ramen. The mouthwatering smell of charcoal-grilled meat and sweet soy sauce was impossible to resist. We squeezed into a stall where a cheerful chef was fanning the coals, causing sparks to dance in the night air. No idea what we were ordering, he served us a skewer of perfectly charred chicken and spring onion – simple, smoky, and delicious. There we were, elbow-to-elbow with locals enjoying after-work bites, soaking in the scene. Occasionally a train rumbled overhead, and the whole alleyway would tremble for a moment, but no one paused their conversations or their feasting. With each bite and each sip of sake, we felt more present and alive to our surroundings. In the span of a few hours, Tokyo had already won our hearts.

Even amid the neon and noise, Tokyo offers moments of serenity. Near the bright lights of Kabukicho, we stumbled upon Hanazono Shrine, an island of calm in the middle of Shinjuku’s chaos. Passing under its vermilion torii gate, we left the crowds behind for a moment. Lanterns illuminated the shrine grounds with a soft glow as a few late-night visitors offered prayers. I took a deep breath and listened to the quiet rustle of leaves – the distant city sounds now softened. It amazed me how Tokyo could be so frenetic and peaceful at the same time. After reflecting on our whirlwind first evening, we headed back to our hotel to rest, excited for what the next day would bring.

The following morning, we met up with a local guide for a full-day tour of Tokyo’s highlights. Having a knowledgeable guide was a game-changer – he navigated the sprawling city efficiently and shared stories that brought each neighborhood to life. Our first stop was the famous Tsukiji Outer Market. Although the main fish auction had moved to a new location, Tsukiji’s outer market was still a paradise for any food lover. Even early in the day, the market was in full swing: vendors were slicing huge tuna on wooden tables, delivery carts squeezed through narrow lanes with stacks of seaweed and crates of fish, and the chatter of bargain hunters filled the air. The smell of the sea mingled with the aroma of grilling seafood. We sampled a few treats as we walked: we tried a tender slice of fatty tuna belly that practically melted on my tongue, followed by a sweet tamagoyaki (rolled omelette) hot off the griddle. Watching the deft knife skills of vendors carving tuna loins was like witnessing performance art. As a photographer, I was in heaven – everywhere I turned was a vibrant tableau of colors and textures: bright red slabs of tuna, emerald green nori seaweed, and glistening fish scales catching the light. The energy of Tsukiji in the morning was infectious, and it gave me a delicious taste of Tokyo’s culinary culture.

From Tsukiji, we made our way to the upscale Ginza district, with its luxury storefronts and broad boulevards. We didn’t linger long in Ginza – just a quick stroll to appreciate the contrast of modern architecture and high fashion – before heading to Asakusa, the old downtown (Shitamachi) area of Tokyo. Asakusa is home to Senso-ji, the city’s oldest Buddhist temple. Approaching it felt like stepping back in time. We entered through the iconic Kaminarimon (Thunder Gate), with its giant red lantern and fierce guardian statues. Beyond the gate, the Nakamise-dori shopping street was lined with stalls selling traditional snacks and souvenirs. Despite the crowds (springtime brings tourists and school groups in droves), the atmosphere was festive and welcoming. I munched on a freshly grilled senbei (rice cracker) as we made our way toward the temple, passing vendors hawking everything from folding fans to yukata robes. When we reached Senso-ji’s main hall, we were struck by the sight of a beautiful cherry blossom tree in full bloom beside the five-story pagoda – a perfect blend of nature and heritage. I cleansed my hands at the purification fountain and wafted incense smoke over myself (a ritual for good health) before climbing the steps. Inside the temple, the air was thick with the scent of incense and the reverent murmur of prayers. I tossed a coin into the offertory box, clapped my hands, and bowed my head, taking a moment to appreciate this sanctuary in the heart of a bustling city.

After two days in Tokyo, I had experienced both its electric urban side and its pockets of tradition. On my last full day in the capital, I decided to slow down and savor the city’s more natural spaces. In the morning we walked to Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden, a vast park that was once an imperial garden. Springtime had transformed Shinjuku Gyoen into a wonderland of cherry blossoms. Strolling under those pink canopies felt like walking through a living painting. Families spread picnic blankets under the trees, and petals drifted down like gentle snow whenever the breeze picked up. We found a quiet path by a pond where blossoms from a late-blooming varietal were still going strong, their reflection rippling in the water. We sat on a bench for a while, watching carp fish create tiny waves that scattered the fallen petals. After the constant motion of Tokyo’s streets, this peaceful interlude in nature was a welcome recharge.

In the afternoon, we headed to Meiji Jingu, a grand Shinto shrine nestled in a forest right in the middle of the city. Stepping through its massive torii gate was like entering another world – the sounds of traffic disappeared, replaced by a chorus of birds in the densely wooded park. The wide path led us under towering trees to the shrine, where we were fortunate to witness a traditional Shinto wedding procession: the bride in a white kimono and hood, the groom in formal montsuki robes, walking slowly under a red umbrella. A small crowd of us watched respectfully as they glided past; it felt like a blessing to catch sight of this ceremony. From the sacred to the whimsical, we then wandered over to nearby Takeshita Street in Harajuku, which is the epicenter of Tokyo’s pop youth culture. Talk about a jarring transition – we went from tranquil shrine grounds to a street bursting with color and trendsetters. Takeshita Street was a sensory overload of funky fashion boutiques, cosplay shops, and crepe stands emitting sweet, buttery aromas. We treated ourselves to a famous Harajuku crepe stuffed with strawberries and whipped cream, indulging my sweet tooth while people-watching. Trendy teens with vibrant hair and eccentric outfits scurried in and out of shops, and I even spotted a pair of friends dressed as anime characters casually browsing sneakers. The juxtaposition of serene tradition at Meiji Jingu and bold modernity in Harajuku back-to-back was a quintessential Tokyo experience – a city moving effortlessly between eras.

That evening, as a grand finale to my Tokyo stay, we joined a small group for a Shinjuku street food tour. With a local guide leading the way, we navigated through bustling alleyways I might never have found on my own. We hopped between hidden izakayas, sampling gyoza dumplings at one spot and a sizzling monjayaki (a savory Tokyo-style pancake) at another, all washed down with highball cocktails. The night culminated in a tiny Golden Gai bar where our group of newfound friends raised glasses of plum wine in a hearty kanpai! (cheers). Under the warm glow of paper lanterns, swapping stories and laughter, we felt a deep appreciation for the connections travel can foster. It was a delicious and heartwarming send-off to my time in Tokyo.

Kyoto: Temples, Traditions, and Cherry Blossoms

After four fast-paced days in Tokyo, stepping off the bullet train in Kyoto felt like entering a different world. Where Tokyo was neon and steel, Kyoto greeted me with quiet lanes, wooden machiya houses, and the gentle scent of incense wafting from countless shrines. We arrived late in the morning and headed straight to the city’s historic heart in Higashiyama. There, we wandered through the Gion district, famous for its traditional teahouses and geisha culture. Strolling along the Shirakawa Canal under drooping willow branches, we admired old wooden façades and lanterns just starting to glow as afternoon turned to evening. To my amazement, I caught a fleeting glimpse of a maiko (apprentice geisha) hurrying to an appointment – her white makeup and vibrant kimono a blur of color as she disappeared around a corner. It was as if the veil of time had lifted for a moment, offering a peek into Kyoto’s old soul.

I continued up the hill to Kiyomizu-dera temple, arriving in time for sunset. This iconic temple’s vast wooden terrace juts out from the hillside, offering a breathtaking view over Kyoto. I stood among pilgrims and tourists on the terrace as the sun dipped low, casting a golden glow over the city and the surrounding hills. Cherry blossoms dotted the temple grounds, their petals lit by the evening light. The air was filled with the deep toll of a temple bell and the murmurs of people appreciating the view as the sky streaked pink and orange. Before leaving, we followed local custom and sipped from the Otowa waterfall – three streams of sacred water at Kiyomizu’s base, each believed to grant a different blessing (long life, academic success, or love). Whether or not one believes the legend, after a long day of travel and sightseeing, the cool water felt utterly refreshing – a cleansing start to our Kyoto chapter.

The next day, we rose at dawn to visit Fushimi Inari Taisha, a shrine renowned for its seemingly endless path of vermillion torii gates winding up a forested mountain. In the gentle early morning light, we practically had the trail to ourselves. As we passed beneath gate after gate, the world took on an otherworldly glow from the columns of red-orange surrounding me. The only sounds were my footsteps on the packed earth and the occasional flutter of a bird in the cedars. Midway up, we paused at a lookout point where Kyoto’s cityscape peeped through the trees far below, still wrapped in dawn quiet. It was one of those moments of pure tranquility and awe – feeling both small beneath the towering tunnel of torii and deeply connected to the spirit of the place. By the time we descended back to the main shrine, early visitors had begun to arrive and the spell of solitude was broken, but we felt incredibly grateful for those private moments on the mountain.

Back in town later that morning, we joined a small sushi-making class. In a traditional machiya house-turned-cooking studio, a local chef taught our little group how to prepare roll sushi and nigiri from scratch. We laughed as we tried (and often failed) to make our rolls as neat as the chef’s. In the end, we sat on tatami mats and enjoyed our imperfect (yet delicious) creations for lunch. Chatting with the instructor about Kyoto life while savoring sushi that we made was a delightful change of pace. It grounded me in the everyday side of Japan, and it turns out handling a camera isn’t so different from handling a bamboo sushi mat – both require a bit of creativity and patience!

Our afternoon was spent visiting a few more of Kyoto’s treasures. At Kinkaku-ji (the famed Golden Pavilion), we were dazzled by the sight of the gold-leaf temple reflecting in its mirror-like pond – a scene of pure tranquility. We also explored an old shogun’s castle with “nightingale floors” that chirped quietly under each step, a charming reminder of how history echoes in every corner of this city.

On our third day in Kyoto, we ventured out to the Arashiyama district on the western outskirts of town. We arrived early at the famous Bamboo Grove, where towering bamboo stalks sway and clatter gently overhead. The morning light filtering through the dense green bamboo was pure magic. Walking the path at around 9:00am, there was already a tremendous amount of people there, ruining any chance I had to get the Bamboo Grove without people in my shot (a must if I want it to be a useable landscape shot)... But Forstall's dont know how or when to quit when we want something, and this shot was something I really wanted. So I adapted... The next morning I woke up at 4:30am, threw on some clothes, let the wife sleep, hopped in a cab and rode 30 minutes back to the Bamboo Grove. I get there just as the first rays of dawn illuminated the walking path. I felt a world away from any city – it was just me and no one else. Deployed the tripod, and got it... Now, it hangs on my wall in my house as one of my select shots with a story and a reminder that when you want something, you do what it takes.

Anyway, after my first visit to the bamboo grove, we visited Tenryu-ji, a Zen temple with a magnificent landscape garden. we sat on the temple’s wooden veranda overlooking a pond, watching koi fish ripple the reflection of cherry blossoms and pine trees, and felt a wave of calm wash over me. Before leaving Arashiyama, we couldn’t resist a short hike up to a hilltop monkey park. There, wild Japanese macaques roam freely with a sprawling view of Kyoto city below. We fed a few of them apple slices (under a staff member’s watchful eye) and snapped some photos of monkeys lounging with the city skyline as a backdrop – a fun, unexpected blending of nature and urban life that perfectly encapsulated Kyoto’s charm.

Late that afternoon, we switched gears from serene temple-hopping to something completely different – a ninja training class! Yes, you read that right: we spent an hour learning the basics of ninja arts in a small dojo tucked away in Kyoto. It turned out to be an absolute blast. The instructor, dressed in full black ninja garb, first showed us how to throw shuriken (ninja star blades) at a target. It took me a few tries, but I eventually got one to stick into the wooden board (to my inner child’s delight). We practiced sneaking silently across the floor, learned some quick defensive moves with a foam katana sword, and even tried breathing techniques to “disappear” (I wasn’t very good at that part!). I found myself grinning ear to ear the entire time – after days of quietly appreciating gardens and shrines, this playful physical activity was a welcome change. If you’d told me a week earlier that I’d be dressed as a ninja, creeping across a tatami mat floor trying to be invisible, I would have laughed – but there we were, living out a childhood daydream in the heart of Kyoto. The class ended with a fun photoshoot, where we got to pose with a sword and full ninja regalia, fully embracing my new alter ego. It was a hilarious and memorable way to cap off my Kyoto adventures.

For our final dinner in Kyoto, we treated ourself to a meal at a small teppan grill tavern in Gion that I’d heard great things about. Tucked down a narrow alley, the restaurant was the kind of cozy local spot you’d never find unless you knew where to look. We sat at the counter, just a few feet from the chef’s sizzling iron grill, and watched in awe as he expertly seared slices of marbled wagyu beef and flipped okonomiyaki pancakes with a flick of his spatula. The meal was outstanding – the wagyu steak practically melted in my mouth, and the okonomiyaki (drizzled with tangy sauce and mayo, and topped with dancing bonito flakes) was comfort on a plate. As I ate, we chatted with a friendly couple sitting next to us (fellow travelers from Australia) and the chef, who entertained us with jokes and even a couple of magic tricks using his cooking utensils. Walking back to my Airbnb through the lantern-lit lanes of Gion that night, my belly full and my heart content, I knew I’d made lifelong memories in Kyoto.

Osaka: Street Food and Sky-High Views

The next morning, we boarded a shinkansen bullet train bound for Osaka, the final leg of our journey. In just about 30 minutes, the train whisked me from Kyoto into Osaka’s bustling embrace. Osaka immediately presented a different vibe – more laid-back and openly friendly, yet buzzing with its own energy. This city is often called “Japan’s kitchen,” famed for its comfort foods and warm hospitality, and we were eager to dig in.

We stayed in the lively Namba area, right in the heart of downtown. After dropping off our bags at the hotel, we stepped out into the streets and were greeted by the sight of the Dotonbori canal gleaming in the midday sun. Even in daylight, Dotonbori assaulted my senses (in the best way possible). Colossal, cartoonish billboards and LED signs towered above the canal – the grinning giant crab with moving claws, a huge pufferfish lantern, and of course the iconic Glico running man sign, frozen mid-sprint since the 1930s. The air was filled with the smell of takoyaki (octopus balls) sizzling on grills and the sound of vendors energetically hawking their specialties.

We strolled along the canal and into the surrounding streets of Shinsaibashi and Amerikamura. Shinsaibashi-suji is a long covered shopping arcade that seemed to stretch on forever, packed with trendy boutiques, arcades, and cafés. A short walk away, Amerikamura (“America Village”) felt like Osaka’s answer to Harajuku – hip youths with dyed hair and vintage clothes, murals and street art on the walls, and even a small Statue of Liberty perched atop one building. It was a quirky, colorful neighborhood that perfectly showcased Osaka’s playful spirit.

Naturally, it wasn’t long before we were drawn back to Dotonbori by my nose. We joined a line at a popular stand for takoyaki – watching the vendor deftly flip the batter spheres in a special molded pan was mesmerizing. Soon we had a tray of golden-brown takoyaki, topped with a drizzle of sweet-savory sauce, a squiggle of Japanese mayo, and a handful of dancing bonito flakes. I popped one in my mouth before it had cooled (rookie mistake!) and nearly burned my tongue, but it was worth it: creamy, doughy, with a tender bit of octopus at the center. As I stood there fanning my mouth and laughing at myself, an older Osaka gentleman next to me gave a knowing grin and a thumbs-up – the universal sign that yes, it’s hot but delicious, isn’t it? That simple friendly gesture encapsulated the feel of Osaka for me.

In the late afternoon, we wandered through the covered lanes of Kuromon Ichiba Market, known as “Osaka’s pantry.” Stall after stall displayed glistening seafood on ice, piles of fresh produce, and street food snacks ready to eat. We marveled at slabs of tuna the size of textbooks and exquisite cuts of marbled Kobe beef. One vendor’s grill sent up enticing plumes of smoke as he charred crab legs; another stall offered blow-torched uni (sea urchin) atop rice. Still somewhat full from earlier feasting, we mostly browsed – but when a kindly vendor handed us a free sample of sweet, ripe melon, we couldn’t refuse. The burst of juicy sweetness was such a treat that we ended up buying a fruit skewer and munching it as we explored. Kuromon Market gave us a sense of the everyday food culture in Osaka – passionate, proud, and centered around sharing good food.

By early evening, it was time for one of the experiences I was most looking forward to: an Osaka street food tour in the retro Shinsekai neighborhood. Shinsekai (“New World”) is an old entertainment district that feels frozen in the mid-20th century, with its colorful store signs and the neon-lit Tsutenkaku Tower watching over like a patron saint of nostalgia. Our small tour group met near the base of the tower, and our local guide – an enthusiastic Osakan with an endless smile – led us through a maze of eateries. Over the next few hours, we hopped between several beloved eateries, trying Osaka specialties like kushikatsu (deep-fried skewers) and okonomiyaki (savory pancakes). By the end of the night, our small group of strangers felt like friends as we said goodbye with full bellies and happy hearts.

The next morning (and our last full day in Japan), we set out to see a couple of Osaka’s landmarks. First on the list was Osaka Castle, which stands proud in the middle of a sprawling park. As we walked through the castle gates and over the moat, we were struck by the sheer scale of the stone walls and the elegance of the castle’s design – its white walls, green-tiled roofs, and golden ornamentation gleaming in the sun. Cherry blossom season was just about over, but a few late-blooming trees around the moat still added puffs of pink to the scene. We climbed to the top of the castle (the interior is a modern museum) and was rewarded with a panoramic view of Osaka’s skyline, punctuated by greenery and the snaking Yodo River. Looking out from that historic perch, we reflected on how each city we visited had its own skyline and soul: Tokyo’s sea of skyscrapers, Kyoto’s low-rise temples and hills, and now Osaka’s mix of high-rises and waterways. Each distinct, each beautiful.

All too soon, we found ourselves on the train back to Tokyo, watching the landscapes of Japan blur by one last time. As our plane took off from Narita Airport, we gazed down at the patchwork of city and countryside and felt a swell of gratitude and emotion.

Travel Tips for Visiting Japan (Especially During Cherry Blossom Season)

If you’re inspired to plan your own trip to Japan, here are a few personal tips I picked up along the way that might help:

1. Timing Is Everything for Cherry Blossoms

Cherry blossom season is short and varies by location and weather. In most of Honshu (Tokyo, Kyoto, Osaka), peak bloom typically falls between late March and early April. Check bloom forecasts frequently and aim to arrive just before peak to catch the full show. That said, even if you arrive slightly late like I did, there are still beautiful petals on the ground and late-blooming varieties to discover.

2. Cash Is Still King

While Japan is modern in so many ways, cash is still widely used. Many small restaurants, market stalls, and temples only accept yen. ATMs at 7-Eleven stores are reliable and often have English menus, so plan to carry a decent amount of cash daily.

3. Use a Pocket Wi-Fi or eSIM

Staying connected makes travel so much smoother, especially when navigating trains or translating menus. Renting a pocket Wi-Fi at the airport or getting a Japan-compatible eSIM ahead of time ensures you’ll have service everywhere (even underground or in remote areas).

4. Learn a Few Basic Japanese Phrases

Most locals don’t speak much English, but they are incredibly friendly and appreciative if you try. A few phrases go a long way:

• Arigatou gozaimasu (thank you)

• Sumimasen (excuse me/sorry)

• Konnichiwa (hello)

• Eigo wa hanasemasu ka? (Do you speak English?)

  
  

5. Get an IC Card for Transit

In cities like Tokyo, Kyoto, and Osaka, using a rechargeable IC card (like Suica or Pasmo) makes train and subway travel easy. You just tap in and out, and it works on most buses and even vending machines.

6. Start Early to Beat the Crowds

Japan is a popular destination, and tourist spots can get packed fast – especially during cherry blossom season. Starting your day by 7:00–8:00 AM not only gives you amazing soft light for photography but also lets you enjoy places like Fushimi Inari, Shinjuku Gyoen, or Arashiyama with far fewer people.

7. Be Respectful of Local Customs

Japan runs on unspoken etiquette. Speak quietly in public transportation, remove shoes when entering someone’s home or traditional spaces (like ryokan or temples), and line up patiently – for everything. These little cultural touches make the experience more meaningful.

8. Pack Light, Walk Often

Japan’s cities are incredibly walkable, and some neighborhoods (like Gion or Shibuya) are best explored on foot. Comfortable shoes are essential, and lighter luggage makes navigating trains and stairs way easier.

Reflections on a Journey

Traveling through Japan engaged every sense and stirred every emotion. We felt awe standing amid Tokyo’s towering neon canyons and serenity wandering through Kyoto’s timeless bamboo groves. We laughed over drinks in tiny Golden Gai bars and found myself moved to silence by the sight of a thousand lanterns glowing at a Shinto shrine. As a photographer, I cherished the visual feast each day offered – from the candy-colored chaos of Shibuya Crossing to the delicate pink petals floating on a temple pond. My camera’s memory cards are full, but more importantly, so is my heart.

This journey was also a much-needed personal renewal. In my day-to-day life I navigate clients, courtrooms and case files, measuring time in deadlines, and managing a firm. In Japan, I learned to measure time in moments: a quiet minute watching cherry blossoms fall like snow, a shared laugh with a stranger at a food stall, a collective gasp as the sun set behind a five-story pagoda. I was reminded of the Japanese concept of ichigo ichie – “one time, one meeting,” the idea that each encounter is unique and should be treasured. I tried to embrace that ethos at every turn, knowing that no matter how many photos I took, the feeling of each experience was one-of-a-kind.

Now that we're home, I often find myself daydreaming about Japan. I’ll be driving to the office and suddenly recall the gentle melody of the train jingle in Tokyo, or I’ll cook dinner and remember the taste of that Osaka okonomiyaki, rich and comforting. I’ve even printed a few of my favorite shots – one of a Kyoto sunset with a pagoda silhouetted against the sky, and another of those endless torii gates at Fushimi Inari – and hung them in my office to keep the inspiration alive.

Twelve days in Japan flew by in a heartbeat, but the impact will last a lifetime. This trip reawakened my sense of wonder. It reminded me why we travel: to feel present, to learn from the wider world, and to carry those lessons back with me. We returned to New Orleans with a suitcase full of souvenirs and snacks (literally, we came home with +1 suitcase) , but also with a renewed spirit. I’m already mentally planning my next visit (Hokkaido in the winter, perhaps?). Until then, I’ll say arigatou gozaimashita – thank you very much – to the incredible people and places of Japan that made our journey so special. Each memory is a treasure, and we'll cherish them, always.