Japan 2026#
From the neon-soaked streets of Osaka to the frozen shrines of Sapporo, this 19-day marathon was a constant battle between my ambitious itinerary and my survival instincts. I’ve transitioned from being addressed as “Lam-sama” in the luxury heights of Niseko to dragging a suitcase through a Hokkaido blizzard—only to discover a heated underground tunnel I could have used the entire time.
Between hunting for rare vinyl in Shibuya, dominating digital hanafuda in Uji, and surviving a four-hour “descent by increments” on a ski slope, I’ve officially seen it all. I’m heading home smelling like hotel soap and ginger candy, with a suitcase full of Family Mart socks and the absolute certainty that every chaotic, expensive, and nauseating moment was worth it.
Day 1: Narita Express to Rock Bottom#
We kicked things off in Seattle flying Hawaiian Airlines. Since I’m a high roller—or at least have the right credit card—I had a lounge pass and dragged Vincent in as my guest. We spent our time making the most of the free refreshments to forget we were about to be crammed into a metal tube for ten hours, all while our flight graciously decided to be delayed. It was a stellar start for the three of us.
The flight itself was an absolute fever dream. About halfway over the Pacific, my brain decided to try and escape through my forehead. The headache turned into full-blown nausea, and I spent the better part of the journey auditioning for a remake of The Exorcist. I threw up twice on the plane, and just when I thought I was empty, we landed. I managed a final encore performance in the Narita airport bathroom right before customs. If there’s a God of Travel in Japan, he definitely met me in that toilet stall.
Customs took approximately three decades. By the time myself, Nick, and Vincent finally cleared the gates, our bags had been plucked off the carousel and huddled together in a corner like orphans. We liberated our luggage and hopped on the Narita Express to Shibuya, where we finally split up—the guys headed off to their spot in Kanda, and I struck out on my own.
My home base for this leg was Shibuya Stream, a sleek, modern hotel conveniently located right below the Google office. You’d think staying at a massive tech landmark would make it easy to find, but naturally, despite there being about four million exits in Shibuya Station, I picked the one that led me as far away from the hotel as humanly possible.
There is truly nothing quite like dragging a suitcase through the neon-soaked streets of Tokyo while your soul is still vibrating from motion sickness and your hotel is technically “right there” above you. Once I finally checked in and managed to stop feeling like a walking biohazard, I took a long shower to reset.
Day 1 is in the books: I’ve lost my lunch, my brother, and my sense of direction—but at least the hotel has a nice view.
Day 2: TeamLab: Planets, Plants, and Purgatory#
After the absolute disaster that was Day 1, I woke up, scrubbed away the lingering travel trauma, and hit the Starbucks downstairs. I ordered a “sausage pie”—which is essentially a hot dog’s attempt at being a croissant—and paired it with a mocha frappe. Not exactly the nutritional foundation for an athlete, but after the flight from hell, my stomach was just happy to be invited to the party.
I hopped the train to Toyosu to meet up with Nick and Vincent for teamLab Planets. Our friends Takashi and Abdul were officially MIA thanks to their own flight issues, so it was just the three of us wandering through the immersive exhibits. It was actually incredible, though wading through water and giant glowing orbs is a very trippy experience when you’re still recovering from a 10-hour flight.
Post-art, we trekked over to DiverCity to pay our respects to the giant Unicorn Gundam statue. For lunch, I let an AI pick my meal, and it actually nailed it—a solid tendon (tempura) bowl that finally made me feel like a human being again. We spent the afternoon killing time in the mall before heading to Tokyo Joypolis. We jumped on the Geki-on rhythm game roller coaster, which was a blast right up until my inner ear decided it had reached its quota for the year. I spent the next hour feeling like a spinning top, though I did manage to survive House of the Dead and Attack on Titan without further incident.
After some therapeutic junk-shopping at Daiso and losing a battle with the claw machines, we headed to Kushiya Monogatari for dinner. It’s an all-you-can-eat skewer place where they hand you raw food and expect you to be the chef. It’s a bold business model, really. After 90 minutes of watching Nick and Vincent treat their fryers like high school chemistry sets, I was stuffed, exhausted, and ready to go horizontal.
We eventually split up and crawled back to our respective wards. Another day down, and I think I’m finally starting to speak “Tokyo.”
Day 3: The Quest for the Miniature Data Center#
I started the day with what is now my “Tokyo Standard” routine: a long soak, followed by a nap. My body has decided that this trip is fueled exclusively by horizontal rest and questionable caffeine choices. I eventually dragged myself out of bed for a solo trek out to Kawasaki to explore the area and grab a quiet lunch before heading back into the neon-soaked heart of the city.
By mid-afternoon, I linked back up with Nick and Vincent in Ikebukuro. This part of town is a total sensory blitz, and we spent a good chunk of time navigating the labyrinth of arcades and Sunshine City. Our friend Takashi finally joined the fray, presumably because he heard the siren song of the Gachapon machines.
I spent an embarrassing amount of time (and a non-trivial amount of yen) on a very specific mission: hunting down the server rack gachapon. Yes, I flew halfway across the world just to try and win a 1/12 scale model of the same Dell servers I manage at work. There is something deeply ironic about being a Site Reliability Engineer on vacation and frantically cranking a plastic dial hoping for a tiny rack-mount unit. It’s a 500-yen piece of plastic, but in that moment, it felt like a mission-critical deployment.
For dinner, Takashi managed to sniff out a small, traditional izakaya. It was a fantastic find—tableside grilled fish and some legitimate sashimi—which was a welcome change of pace from the “fry-it-yourself” chemistry experiments of Day 2. There’s something deeply satisfying about watching a professional handle the grill while you just focus on the food.
The night hit a bit of a wall when the group suggested checking out some of the more… eccentric themed bars in the area. Between the lingering nausea from the “Geki-on” roller coaster and the mental exhaustion of my server-rack hunt, I had to politely (and desperately) pass on the late-night festivities. I retreated to my hotel in Shibuya, officially calling it a night before my stomach could mount another formal protest.
Day 3 is in the books: I’ve conquered the Gachapon machines and survived the Kawasaki commute. Now, if I can just get my tiny Dell server through customs, we’ll be in business.
Day 4: Hachiko, Hot Dogs, and High-Performance Footwear#
The morning started with the unholy ritual of packing, because apparently, even the best hotels expect you to actually leave by 11:00 AM. Takashi swung by, and we managed to grab a “proper” Japanese breakfast set—egg, pork belly, rice, pickles, negitoro, and miso soup. It was a refreshing, high-protein change from the “hotdog-in-sad-bread” aesthetic I’d been living off of.
We spent the morning being stereotypical tourists in Shibuya. We paid our respects to the Hachiko statue, grabbed a “fancy” coffee at the Google office (perks of the job!), and wandered through Shibuya Parco. I managed to score a few t-shirts and even snagged a free tote bag—the ultimate victory for any man currently living out of a suitcase. We descended into the basement for a lunch of udon topped with tempura chicken and chikuwa. It was exactly the “carb-loading” I needed for the marathon of walking ahead.
After hauling our gear to Ginza to check into the Tokyu Stay, my feet officially staged a formal protest. I took the executive decision to pivot into a pair of Asics GT-2000s. Since they were basically a third off the U.S. price, I felt like a financial genius—right up until the moment I realized I still had to walk another ten miles in them to break them in. We met up with Takashi again and trekked over to the Imperial Palace to get a photo of the famous Nijubashi Bridge. It is a very nice bridge, and I now have the digital evidence to prove I was there.
Takashi eventually headed off to meet a friend, while I linked up with the rest of the crew—Nick, Vincent, and Abdul—at an all-you-can-eat shabu-shabu spot inside the Yodobashi Camera in Akihabara. “All-you-can-eat” is usually traveler-shorthand for “eat until you regret your choices.” While it wasn’t exactly Michelin-star quality, it provided the necessary calories to survive the night. We poked around the neon madness of Akihabara for a bit before finally calling it a night.
My feet are slightly less painful, my luggage is moved, and I’ve successfully navigated another 24 hours without a stomach-related incident. Progress is slow, but it’s happening.
Day 5: Aaliyah-Oops: The High Cost of Shinjuku French Toast#
If you’re sensing a theme here, it’s that my days are mostly comprised of waking up, debating what to put in my stomach, and trying to navigate the city without my feet falling off. Today started in Shinjuku with Abdul and Takashi at Cafe Aaliya. They’re famous for their “soft” French toast, and I’ll admit—it was legitimately great. It’s nice to have a breakfast that doesn’t involve a “hotdog in a tube.”
However, it seems my stomach still hadn’t fully forgiven me for the flight from hell. Shortly after finishing, the nausea came back for a surprise encore. I ended up losing the French toast battle in the Shinjuku station restroom—a real shame considering how good it tasted on the way down. Luckily, Takashi stepped up as the MVP of the morning and helped me navigate a nearby drugstore to find some legendary Japanese stomach medicine.
Once the meds kicked in and I stopped seeing stars, we wandered around Shinjuku Gyoen to look at the gardens and pretend we were cultured travelers. Since walking apparently wasn’t enough punishment for my shins, we decided to hit a batting cage. I swung, I missed, and I felt athletic for approximately forty-five seconds before we retreated to find more food. We ended up at Kura Sushi, which was a bit of a letdown—honestly, I think the quality has dipped since my last “deployment” here. However, we did manage to win one solitary prize: a roll of Sanrio Cinnamoroll masking tape. A truly prestigious souvenir to add to my collection of Japanese “treasures.”
Abdul peeled off on a mission to find plushies at Book Off, while Takashi and I met up with Nick and Vincent for teamLab Borderless. It was another round of immersive digital art; by now, it’s clear my group is officially obsessed with LED lights and mirrors.
Post-art, we headed to Tokyo Tower. We timed it perfectly for a Genshin Impact collaboration, so the entire landmark was decked out in anime branding. We watched the sunset from the observation deck—it was genuinely cool, even if the atmosphere was a bit “nerd culture meets city skyline.”
We grabbed dinner at a local unagi spot where Abdul rejoined us. The unatamadon (eel and egg over rice) was high-quality stuff—a much-needed culinary redemption. We capped off the night with a walk past Zojoji Temple. Seeing it lit up against the backdrop of the tower was a solid way to end the day before the inevitable trek back to the hotel.
Day 6: KBDs and Curry Pans: A Story of Survival#
Apparently, my body has decided that the “Japan Diet” is a two-way street—things go in, and they come out with significantly more velocity than I’d prefer. I started the morning with the “high-roller” breakfast of champions from Family Mart: a Famichiki Red, a tuna and egg sandwich, and a bottle of Ukon no Chikara (the gold-standard Japanese wellness elixir).
My body’s immediate response? A hard “no.” I spent a good portion of the morning being intimately acquainted with my hotel room, which involved an emergency laundry session to handle the fallout of my digestive system’s latest tantrum. At this point, I’m starting to think my stomach is actively lobbying for a return flight to Seattle.
Once I was functional enough to exist in public, I met up with Takashi in Asakusa. We crushed an Asakusa Menchi (a deep-fried minced meat cutlet), a Tokyo curry pan with melted cheese, and a dorayaki. My logic was simple: if I’m going to go down, I’m at least going to go down fueled by high-quality snacks.
We eventually migrated to Akihabara to hit the arcades. After playing Takashi in some Tekken 7, a local Korean player stepped up to take me on. My Asuka is a bit rusty these days, but this guy was on another level. His KBD and spacing were surgical—he dismantled me so efficiently I barely had time to press a button. It turns out that even when you’re recovering from a stomach bug, Akihabara will still find a way to humble you.
Abdul, our resident champion of sleep, had essentially hit the “off” switch from noon until 8:00 PM, so we officially scrapped our plans for Yokohama. Instead, we settled for the most “exotic” Japanese experience of all: Denny’s in Akiba.
I ordered a Caesar salad with prosciutto, a bowl of Chinese noodles, a hamburger steak gratin, and an acai yogurt bowl. It was an unholy hybrid of cuisines that somehow felt exactly like what a recovering system needed. Between the laundry, the Tekken defeat, and the Denny’s feast, it wasn’t exactly the high-octane travel day we’d planned, but it was honest work.
Day 7: The Shin-Okubo Chicken Mountain and the Quest for Ginger#
The day started with a genuine glimmer of hope: Eggs Benedict and soufflé pancakes with Takashi and Abdul. If you’re keeping track, this was the first meal in days that didn’t end with me immediately contemplating my life choices in a bathroom stall. We did the obligatory walk around the Imperial Palace to feel cultured, then headed to Shin-Okubo for a massive Korean feast. We ordered everything under the sun—KBBQ, fried chicken, you name it. The “UFO Chicken” was the highlight—mostly because it looks ridiculous and is essentially a mountain of calories served in a literal flying saucer.
After lunch, I went on a desperate quest for ginger chews to kill my lingering nausea. Turns out, finding basic ginger candy in Shinjuku is like trying to find a quiet seat in Shibuya—basically impossible. I eventually settled for something called Ohta Isan Neo at Donki, which I’m fairly certain is just Japanese Tums with a high-tech label. I’m still not convinced they actually do anything, as evidenced by the fact that I spent my “quiet afternoon rest” in a hotel lobby still battling the waves of motion sickness. Very classy.
By the time I rallied to meet up with the guys again, the “travel fatigue” was hitting hard. I spent some time chatting with a local about the housing market—which was interesting, but also made me realize how much of a “tired tourist” I’ve become. The conversation was polite, but I definitely felt like the “old man” of the group today.
Post-recovery, I met up with Abdul and Takashi for a trek down to Yokohama Chinatown. I grabbed an ebi chili (shrimp in chili sauce) set, which was “interesting,” though I’m pretty sure my stomach was still traumatized from the morning’s activities. The commute back to the hotel felt like a marathon, and the second I got through the door, I shoved another load into the laundry and collapsed. I’ve reached the point in the trip where I’m more familiar with my hotel’s laundry cycle than the actual city map.
Day 8: Two Stations, One Train: The Nagoya Shinkansen Miracle#
If you’ve been following this saga, you know that “waking up early” is usually a recipe for disaster. But miracles do happen: I was up and out, catching a 7:21 AM Shinkansen to Nagoya. I played it smart and took the train from Ginza Station, expecting a smooth rendezvous at Tokyo Station. In a classic “travel comedy of errors,” Nick and Vincent somehow ended up at Shinagawa Station instead. Through some high-speed rail sorcery, however, we all managed to board the exact same train. Meanwhile, Takashi and Abdul officially split from the pack, heading off to Kyoto while the three of us charged toward Nagoya.
The Shinkansen itself was a dream—mostly because I successfully navigated the high-speed journey without a single “Exorcist” moment. We rolled into Nagoya around 9:10 AM, dropped our bags at the hotel, and immediately hopped a train to Ghibli Park.
Ghibli Park is objectively cool, assuming you enjoy the fine art of standing in lines for photo ops. It’s a bit of a tease, though; there are so many beautiful, immersive areas where you’re dying to snap a picture, but the park rules frequently designate the best spots as “no photo” zones. Because nothing screams “magic and wonder” like a polite security guard telling you to put your phone away.
However, the real tragedy of the day was lunch. I decided to “live a little” and ordered a Nagoya-style pizza. Whoever invented a pizza topped with Ebi Fry (fried shrimp) and Napolitan (ketchup-based pasta) should probably be questioned by a food tribunal. It wasn’t so much a culinary experience as it was a dare. I survived it, but my taste buds are still filing a formal grievance.
We managed to redeem the day with some Miso Katsu back in the city—which, thank God, was actually edible—before we collectively decided that our feet had earned a permanent retirement. We hit the hay early, exhausted from chasing imaginary soot sprites and questioning our lunch choices. I’m starting to think my stomach is the main protagonist of this blog, and it is currently involved in a very dramatic plot twist.
Day 9: The Hyatt, the Hojicha, and the Great Kyoto Gluttony#
I officially broke up with Nick and Vincent for the day—they headed off to Nagashima Spa Land to subject themselves to roller coasters. Having learned my lesson about motion sickness and the “Geki-on” incident earlier in the trip, I opted for the more dignified pursuit of eating my body weight in Kyoto. I started with a “Mr. Donut” breakfast set—not exactly a balanced meal, but at this stage, my diet is basically just a randomized list of items found in a Japanese convenience store.
I made the trek to Kyoto, dropped my bags at the Hyatt Place, and linked up with Takashi and Abdul at Nishiki Market. We went full glutton mode: gyoza, takoyaki, karaage, and strawberry daifuku. It was beautiful. Unfortunately, the “travel stomach” curse finally caught up to Takashi, and he had to bail early to recover, leaving Abdul and me to navigate the market’s maze.
We eventually found ourselves at a “Japanese Spaghetti” place. Look, I’m all for local fusion, but spaghetti is one of those things that usually shouldn’t be a science experiment. It was “interesting”—my polite way of saying it was a confusing bowl of noodles I didn’t particularly enjoy. We walked it off on the way to Kiyomizu-dera, making mandatory pit stops for tea-flavored desserts and crème brûlée because apparently, our appetites know no bounds.
Once I finally checked in, we regrouped with a “resurrected” Takashi for dinner at an old-school, cash-only izakaya. It was the good kind of chaos—a massive spread of random plates and enough food to feed a small army. Since it was the only night the three of us were actually staying under the same roof, we leaned into the college-dorm vibes. We grabbed a pile of drinks and snacks from the Family Mart, retreated to the room, and spent the night watching YouTube.
I even subjected them to a recap video of my very first trip to Japan back in 2011. It’s wild to see how much has changed, though my inability to navigate a train station apparently remains a permanent bug in my operating system.
Solid day. No incidents, no motion sickness—just decent food and reminiscing. I’m starting to think I might actually finish this trip without another international incident.
Day 10: Curry Up and Wait: The Jumbo Katsu Quest#
If you’re wondering why I’m still visiting teamLab exhibits, honestly, same. Abdul and I hit up the Kyoto location, which felt like a “greatest hits” compilation of the previous ones. The flying orbs and soap clouds were admittedly cool, and for once, the crowd wasn’t just a sea of confused tourists; it was mostly locals, which made me feel slightly less like a wandering NPC.
We regrouped with Takashi for a curry spot that was cash-only and, predictably, excellent. I went for the “if your heart doesn’t stop, you didn’t order enough” special: a jumbo katsu curry topped with a cheese omelette. It was heavy, it was greasy, and I loved every second of it.
After checking out of the Kyoto hotel, Abdul and I made the move to Osaka. We arrived just in time to take advantage of the hotel bar’s “Golden Hour”—which is basically a high-speed marathon of complimentary drinks—before Nick and Vincent rolled in. Once the gang was finally back together, we hit a kushikatsu place in the JR station.
The food was solid, but the kitchen clearly didn’t get the memo that we weren’t a hive mind; they dumped everyone’s individual orders onto one giant, confusing communal plate. It looked like a delicious architectural disaster. Takashi had to deploy his Japanese skills to politely ask them to separate the wreckage so we could actually identify what we were eating.
After a somewhat mediocre donut for dessert, the group split up for the evening. I retreated to my room to finally catch up on some rest and reset for the Osaka leg of the trip. Between the jumbo curry, the Golden Hour drinks, and the train station “food pile,” it was a day of high-calorie wins and logistical puzzles.
Another day, another city, and another reminder that sometimes the best part of the day is just finally hitting the pillow.
Day 11: Kirby’s Dream Land (and My Palate’s Nightmare)#
I started the morning with a definitive win: a legitimate hotel breakfast buffet. We’re talking kushikatsu alongside French toast—an unholy union of breakfast categories, but one I was more than happy to exploit. After fueling up, I met the guys for lunch at the Osaka Kirby Cafe. I’ll be honest: the food was a culinary catastrophe. It was essentially overpriced starch shaped like a pink puffball. Was it cute? Absolutely. Would I eat there again? Only if I were actively trying to ruin my palate for sport.
We hopped a train to Nara to deal with the local deer population, who are essentially the mob bosses of the city. We spent the afternoon bowing to them—yes, you have to bow, or they lose their minds—and feeding them crackers while they looked at us with absolute indifference. We checked out the massive Todai-ji Temple, where the highlight was watching Nick attempt to shimmy his way through the “lucky Buddha hole” in a wooden pillar. Watching a grown man struggle to fit through a piece of wood for good luck is, frankly, the most spiritual experience I’ve had all trip.
Then came the logistical masterpiece I’d engineered: the Nintendo Museum in Uji. Getting these tickets was like winning the lottery, which is the only reason we agreed to backtrack all the way toward Kyoto despite already having moved to Osaka. Was it worth the headache? Honestly, yes. The history was pure nostalgia bait, and the interactive exhibits were a blast. I absolutely dominated a massive digital hanafuda game against Nick, Takashi, and some unsuspecting strangers. Naturally, I balanced that out by being completely incompetent at the baseball sim, but I’ll take the hanafuda crown.
We retreated to Namba for yakiniku and the infamous “0-second lemon sour” spot—an all-you-can-drink concept that is every bit as dangerous as it sounds. We capped off the night at the massive Round 1 Spocha, cycling through basketball, archery, and tennis until our bodies gave up. We stayed so late that the trains actually stopped running—a first for us this trip. Faced with the end of the world (or at least the end of public transit), Abdul, Takashi, and I bit the bullet and split a multi-stop Uber back to our respective hotels.
Day 12: Wagyu and Wellness: My Final Osaka Stand#
I woke up with one goal: tracking down a highly-rated local wellness spot I’d heard about. Naturally, the universe had other plans—it was the Setsubun holiday, so they were closed for the festivities. Given the state of my stomach, maybe the universe was just looking out for me. I met up with Nick, Vincent, and Takashi at Yodobashi Camera in Umeda for lunch at Ishida, a legitimate Kobe beef teppanyaki spot. The beef was incredibly tender, but my stomach—ever the drama queen—decided to hit me with another wave of nausea right as the chef started grilling. Trying to enjoy world-class wagyu while your body is staging a protest against heavy fats is a very specific kind of torture.
I tapped out and headed back to the hotel for a much-needed “redemption arc.” I managed to book a session with a therapist I’d visited last year, and wow, she delivered. It was the best massage and wellness experience of the trip—masterful, professional, and exactly what I needed to feel human again. It was nice to have one interaction that didn’t feel like a logistical nightmare or a “Kirby Cafe” level disappointment.
Feeling revived, I did some retail therapy at Patagonia and Adidas. I was supposed to meet the guys at Donki, but it turns out the entire group—Takashi and Abdul included—was also feeling like garbage after the heavy lunch. We scrapped the Ferris wheel and boat ride plans in favor of simple survival. We eventually linked up in Dotonbori for a street food crawl. We hit Kururu for takoyaki and tried “Dotonbori gyoza,” which is just takoyaki sauce dumped on top of dumplings. Spoiler alert: it’s not an improvement on the original.
Since it was my last night in Osaka, I had a mission: burn my Amex dining credit. I hauled myself back to the hotel and forced down a “victory lap” meal of a burger, fish, and a mountain of desserts. Room service took about a century to arrive, giving me plenty of time to wonder why I keep feeding my body things it clearly hates.
One final night in Osaka in the books. I’ve spent an obscene amount of money, eaten enough grease to fuel a small car, and finally had a five-star spa experience. I think I’m officially ready to leave my stomach issues in Japan and head for the airport.
Day 13: Soup Curry and Secret Tunnels: The 0% Above-Ground Route I Totally Missed in Sapporo#
I kicked off my final morning in Osaka with a hotel omelette, checked out, and grabbed an Uber to Itami Airport. The transit was smooth, quick, and—miraculously—devoid of any digestive drama. I grabbed some chirashi sushi for an airport lunch, but the real victory of the day came when I stepped onto the plane: an empty middle seat. Having enough personal space to actually stretch out felt like a divine reward for the chaos of the last twelve days.
We landed in Sapporo, and reality hit me like a literal bag of ice. I grabbed my luggage and decided to “brave the elements,” dragging my suitcase through the slush and ice like a true amateur. I came within an inch of wiping out in spectacular fashion in front of the entire airport crowd.
It was only after I reached the hotel, soaked and slightly bruised, that I discovered the “Subterranean Secret”: Sapporo has an extensive system of underground pathways. In fact, I learned that I didn’t need to walk above ground for even a single second to reach my hotel. I could have stayed in climate-controlled, ice-free comfort the entire way. Instead, I chose the “extreme sports” version of hotel check-in. So, that was a fun, frozen realization.
Once Nick and Vincent finally rolled in, the group met up with Abdul and Takashi for a proper Sapporo initiation: Soup Curry at Suage2. If you haven’t had it, it’s the local legend for a reason. It was spicy, rich, and exactly the kind of thermal fuel you need when you’re freezing your toes off. It might be the most “functional” meal I’ve had all trip.
We couldn’t just end it there, so we leaned into the local “Shime Parfait” tradition—the Sapporo custom of ending a night of eating with an elaborate, late-night parfait. We found a spot nearby, shoveled down some dessert, and finally retreated to the hotel to thaw out.
Day 14: Anime in the Snow and the Great Fried Chicken Showdown: My Best Day in Sapporo#
I started the day with the usual suspects: a solid breakfast and another round of laundry. At this point, my primary activity in Japan is rotating through the same three outfits while hoping my stomach doesn’t file for divorce. I linked up with Nick and Vincent for some Miso Ramen—hot, rich, and exactly the thermal fuel you need in the frozen north—before we tackled the big one: the Sapporo Snow Festival.
Odori Park was genuinely impressive. Seeing entire anime sagas and historical landmarks rendered in giant blocks of snow is a level of dedication I can’t even fathom. They even had a high-energy K-pop performance going on right in the middle of the ice, which was a surreal vibe. I spent the walk snacking on chocolate-covered strawberries, proving once and for all that I am a refined man of culture.
Then came the serious business: The Great Conbini Showdown. We bought a spread of fried chicken and sandwiches from both Family Mart and the Hokkaido-exclusive Seico Mart, washed down with a Soft Katsugen (a local dairy drink that tastes like a delicious fever dream). In the battle of the birds, Family Mart absolutely smoked Seico Mart on the fried chicken. My only regret? I didn’t buy a “Hot Chef” t-shirt from Seico Mart. It’s a massive fashion tragedy that will haunt me.
We moved on to Susukino to see the ice sculptures. They were beautiful, though the location in the heart of the entertainment district is… distracting. You’re trying to appreciate the artistry of an ice swan while navigating the neon chaos of the city’s nightlife. We pivoted to Genghis Khan (lamb BBQ) for dinner, which was, without a doubt, the best meal I’ve had in Sapporo. It was so good I almost forgot my feet were frozen.
After saying our goodbyes to Takashi and Abdul—who were smart enough to head back to Tokyo early—the group split. Nick and Vincent headed to Round 1, and I decided to call it an early night. After a long day of sub-zero temperatures and “commuter” style hotel rooms, there is truly no better feeling than finally getting back to a warm bed and some quiet.
Day 15: Snowmobiles and Sold-Out Seats: The Niseko Transition#
The day began with a harsh lesson in “Why you should book JR tickets early.” Nick, Vincent, and I headed out for the long trek from Sapporo to Kutchan. We did the smart thing this time and utilized the underground passage to avoid another luggage-versus-ice wrestling match, but the train situation was a total mess. Every single reserved seat was sold out, so we spent the journey to Otaru and the transfer to Kutchan in the non-reserved cars, just hoping our luck would hold.
From Kutchan, we caught the bus to the Hilton Niseko Village. The station there is tiny, and while we waited for our ride, I bought some popcorn that I can only describe as “aggressively mediocre.”
Since it was too early for check-in, we dumped our bags and headed straight to the hotel onsen area to change into our snow gear. It’s a weird feeling to be prepping for an outdoor excursion in a bathhouse, but efficiency is the name of the game. We spent the afternoon on a snowmobile rental excursion—hands down the best thing we’ve done in a while. Ripping through the fresh powder was exactly the adrenaline hit I needed to distract me from my recurring stomach issues.
After the ride, we finally checked in and hit the first-floor lounge for our free welcome drinks. If there’s one thing I’ve mastered on this trip, it’s the fine art of the complimentary hotel beverage.
For dinner, we trekked out to Niseko Village for Nani Kore Kani. I’ll be honest: it was a bit of a letdown. For a place with “crab” in the name, being sold out of crab by the time we arrived is a bold move. The Japanese food we did have was decent, but it definitely carried that “Niseko premium” price tag.
We finished the night back at the room, raiding a local drugstore for snacks to pair with the free champagne the hotel provided. Eating cheap chips while drinking bubbly in a mountain resort is the exact level of “classy trash” I’ve been aiming for this whole trip.
Day 16: Four Hours, One Hill: The slowest descent in Niseko history#
I started the day with a solid buffet breakfast alongside Nick and Vincent, followed by a tactical soak in the onsen. There’s something deeply satisfying about sitting in a hot bath while staring up at a mountain you’re about to spend the next several hours failing to conquer.
We geared up, grabbed our lift tickets, and headed for the Niseko Gondola. This was my first time taking a gondola instead of a standard chairlift, and it was a pretty cool experience—mostly because it was the last time I felt fast for the next four hours. We decided to hit a “green” run, which should have been a breeze. However, Nick apparently decided that the most thorough way to experience the mountain was to introduce his body to the snow every 20 feet.
It took us approximately four hours to reach the bottom. By the time we finally navigated the “descent of a thousand tumbles,” it was nearly dinner time. I managed to sneak in one solitary bunny hill run by myself just to remember what it feels like to actually move forward, before helping Nick return his gear and calling it a day.
For dinner, we hit up Baby Crosta for some Roman-style slices. The pizza was legit, and the maitake (dancing mushroom) slice was a surprise highlight—very earthy and a much-needed break from the usual toppings. We followed that up with a massive strawberry banana chocolate crepe from a nearby stand because, after a four-hour “marathon” on a green run, I felt I’d earned every single calorie.
We capped off the night at a convenience store and caught part of a traditional Taiko drum show in Niseko Village. There’s nothing like the thunderous rhythm of giant drums to remind you that even though you spent half a day falling down a mountain, you’re still having a significantly better time than you would be at the office.
Day 17: The New Chitose Nerd Circuit and the Last Train Home#
The morning started at the Hilton breakfast buffet with a culinary mystery: I ordered a custom quesadilla, only to find out they don’t serve salsa or guacamole. It was just cheese and a dream, apparently. As we checked out, the staff handed us a farewell gift of cookies and a letter addressed to “Lam-sama.” I’m not sure if I’ve officially been promoted to royalty or if they just liked my checkout style, but I’ll take the title (and the cookies).
We bypassed the train and hopped the Hokkaido Resort Liner bus to the airport. It was a tactical masterstroke—direct, uncrowded, and I didn’t have to fight for personal space. My stomach decided to mount one final protest during the ride, but I managed to stare down the nausea until we hit the rest stop in Bifue. We used the facilities, took a breather, and mentally prepared for the final leg.
Getting to New Chitose Airport early gave us the chance to do the full “nerd circuit”: the Snow Miku store, an Umamusume pop-up, and the Royce Chocolate World. For a late lunch/early dinner, I downed a seafood bowl packed with crab, salmon, and ikura. It was a high-quality “victory lap” for my palate, right up until our flight was delayed by three hours.
By the time we finally landed in Tokyo and cleared the airport, it was past 11:00 PM. I was sweating the train schedule, having flashbacks to the Osaka Uber incident, but we managed to catch the very last runs before the system shut down. I finally checked into my hotel, which unexpectedly featured a full My Hero Academia themed lobby—exactly the kind of “Plus Ultra” energy a thirty-something man needs to see at midnight.
Day 18: Double Bai and Bizarre Adventures: The Final Day with the Crew in Akiba#
I kicked off the morning with a very specific mission: the McDonald’s New York Shrimp Burger. It’s a limited-time release, and honestly, it’s a crime we don’t have these back in the States. I spent the rest of the morning wandering around Shibuya for some last-minute retail therapy, which included picking up a new pair of glasses at Jins. They’re Toy Story themed—specifically “Woody”—because if I’m going to spend my thirties as a software engineer, I might as well lean into the “kid at heart” aesthetic.
By the time I hit Akihabara, I was apparently still hungry, so I did the unthinkable: I went back to McDonald’s. I had to try the “Double Bai” Teriyaki Chicken Burger. It’s wild that back home we think we’re the kings of fast food, yet Japan is the one offering double meat on their chicken burgers. It’s a level of efficiency and excess that I truly respect.
I linked up with Nick and Vincent for a final meal at Sushiro. They were running a JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure collaboration, which meant my sushi came with a side of anime memorabilia. I managed to score a themed plate, which is definitely going into the “precious souvenirs” suitcase alongside the Patagonia gear. We hit the arcades one last time to burn through our remaining 100-yen coins and settle some final scores.
Eventually, the time came to say goodbye. They’re headed back to Seattle tomorrow, and since our schedules aren’t lining up for the final morning, this was our official wrap-up. It’s been a marathon of train rides, questionable stomach moments, and expensive beef, but having the crew together made the chaos worth it.
Day 19: Socks, Sushi, and Shifting Gears: The 19-Day Wrap Up#
The final day. I started with a critical survival purchase: a bag of ginger candy from Sun Drug. My stomach has been through a literal war this trip, and I wasn’t taking any chances for the 14-hour flight home. For “brunch,” I did one last themed run to Mom’s Touch for the Le Sserafim meal. Is it a bit of a gimmick? Sure. Is the chicken incredible? Absolutely.
I headed to Tower Records on a mission for my dad, hunting for a specific vinyl. No luck, though. Apparently, that record is harder to find than a quiet spot in the middle of the Shibuya Scramble. After checking out of the hotel and stowing my bags, I did the ultimate “last-minute gift” sprint. I snagged a few pairs of those iconic Family Mart socks for Kevin—because if you didn’t buy the green and blue striped socks, did you even go to Japan? I made one last stop at the Google office for a caffeine fix and a quick round of DDR to prove I still had some coordination left after 19 days of ramen and walking.
Then, the long goodbye. I took the Yamanote to the Tokyo Monorail, which remains the coolest way to approach Haneda. I spent my final hours in the Amex lounge, which honestly served some of the best sushi I’ve had all week—a high bar to clear, but a fitting final meal.
I’m currently sitting at the gate, smelling like ginger candy and hotel soap, reflecting on the last 19 days. From the “laundry emergencies” and airport mishaps to the high-end wagyu and the snow-covered peaks of Niseko, it’s been a hell of a trip.
