Hello Everyone!

My first night in Osaka followed a very simple plan: arrive → find food → regret how much food I ate.

Naturally, this meant heading straight to Dotonbori Street, Osaka’s neon-lit food carnival. If Tokyo feels like the polished global capital and Kyoto feels like a living museum, Osaka feels like the friend who says, “Let’s go eat something ridiculous at 1 a.m.” and somehow convinces you it’s a good idea.

Osaka is famously nicknamed “Japan’s Kitchen” (tenka no daidokoro, meaning “the nation’s kitchen”). The phrase dates back to the Edo period when Osaka was the country’s main hub for rice trading and food distribution. Basically, if Japan had a pantry, Osaka was it.

Today the title still fits — except the pantry has turned into an all-you-can-eat playground.

Some of the dishes Osaka is known for include:

• Takoyaki – little balls of batter with octopus inside, cooked in round molds and smothered in sauce and bonito flakes

• Okonomiyaki – often called a “Japanese pancake,” but imagine cabbage, batter, meat, and seafood grilled together and covered in savory sauce

• Kushikatsu – deep-fried skewers of meat, veggies, and anything else someone decided was worth dunking in batter

And then there was my personal culinary adventure of the evening: thin-sliced bull tongue.

Taste? Honestly great.

Texture? …problematic.

You know that distinct meaty crunch when you accidentally bite your own tongue?

Yeah.

Imagine that sensation… every single bite.

My brain kept sending emergency signals like “Hey man, stop doing that, that hurts.” Meanwhile my mouth was like, “No no, this is dinner now.”

Like most weird foods while travelling though, I’m glad I tried it. Cultural growth, right? Or at least personal confusion with seasoning.

The next day I headed to Universal Studios Japan.

Now… I had recently tweaked something in my upper back (don't worry I'm O.K. now), and I’m extremely susceptible to motion sickness on rides. Also, kiddie rides generally fall into the category of “why am I doing this when snacks exist?”

So my Universal Studios experience ended up being less “ride everything” and more “casually wander around in awe.”

But honestly? That was still awesome.

Super Nintendo World in particular was jaw-dropping. It genuinely felt like walking into a Mario game. Giant spinning coins, moving blocks, Bowser’s castle looming over everything — it was like Nintendo reached into my childhood, scaled it up, and built it in real life.

I might not have ridden many attractions, but as a visual spectacle, it was incredible.

Accommodation in Osaka also marked an exciting financial milestone in my trip.

I upgraded to a private hostel room.

Total cost: $35 a night.

Yes, you read that correctly.

Somewhere in North America a hotel manager just fainted.

The room itself was perfectly good… except the bed. Which brings us to what is becoming an ongoing subplot in this journey:

The Great Japanese Mattress Saga.

Japanese hostel beds appear to be made from a material scientists describe as “compressed granite.”

Maybe they’re good for posture.

Maybe they’re traditional.

Or maybe I’m just getting old and complainy.

One of the highlights of the city was Osaka Castle.

The castle itself is impressive and historically significant, originally built in the late 1500s by Toyotomi Hideyoshi, one of the warlords who helped unify Japan.

Another great viewpoint in the city was the Umeda Sky Building.

The structure itself looks like two skyscrapers that decided to connect in mid-air for no obvious reason. You take a series of elevators and escalators up through glass tunnels until you reach the “Floating Garden Observatory,” which gives a fantastic panoramic view of Osaka stretching out in every direction.

Definitely worth it.

Things Not Fully Captured in the Video

A few quirks about Osaka didn’t quite make it into the footage.

The subway system felt a bit… disjointed. Some “connections” between lines involved walking so far through underground corridors that I started wondering if I should have just exited the station and walked across town instead.

The streets were also a little dirtier compared to Tokyo and Kyoto. Not bad by global standards — but noticeable after getting used to Japan’s almost suspicious level of cleanliness.

And then there’s the escalator situation.

In most of Japan, people stand on the left side of escalators and leave the right side open for those in a hurry.

In Osaka?

They do the exact opposite.

Stand on the right, walk on the left.

Why?

Apparently it traces back to the 1970 Osaka World Expo. International visitors were used to standing on the right side of escalators (a common convention in parts of Europe), and Osaka adopted the practice during the event to accommodate them. For reasons that are still not entirely clear, the habit just… stuck.

Meanwhile the rest of Japan politely ignored Osaka and continued standing on the left.

So the country ended up with two completely opposite escalator cultures, depending on which city you’re in.

Because of course it did.

Next stop on the journey: the far more dramatic and impossibly photogenic Himeji Castle — which, as it turns out, makes Osaka’s look a bit like the warm-up act.

Hope Everyone is doing well.

Eric