Journey to Japan: First steps in Osaka

Day 10

After a string of packed days on the road, we finally gave ourselves permission to sleep in. The hotel room felt extra cozy that morning, and we didn’t step outside until around 3 p.m. Our plan for the day was simple: explore a bit of Osaka without rushing.

We made our way to Osaka Castle, one of Japan’s most iconic landmarks. The castle itself, reconstructed with historical care, sits surrounded by a sprawling park and massive stone walls, reminders of its former military importance during the 16th century. But rather than heading straight in, we discovered something a bit more grounded and delicious: the Osaka Gourmet Expo.

Set up in a large tent near the castle grounds, the expo featured rows of stalls offering food from all over Japan. The scent of grilled and simmering dishes filled the air, instantly sparking our appetites. Inside, seating was arranged with the very familiar sets of beer garden benches and tables, something that felt weirdly German. I half expected someone to walk around serving one-liter Maßkrüge of beer. After all, back home in Germany, Japanese tourists seem to enjoy our Oktoberfest quite a bit, this felt like the cultural mirror image.

I went for a hearty serving of yakisoba noodles, and the sweet-savory flavor was just right. L chose a Japanese-Dutch fusion chicken ramen, which was surprisingly delicious and a bit quirky, just like the culinary experimentation we’ve come to love in Japan.

One detail that made us smile: the far ends of each bench had been taped off with large Xs to discourage people from sitting there. Clearly, someone had learned from experience that if you sit alone on the very edge of a narrow bench, the entire thing might flip. A practical fix, and a subtle nod to Japanese risk management at its finest.

After lunch, we took a walk around the castle grounds. Though the castle’s towering white facade and golden ornamentation were beautiful, we didn’t go inside, partly because the afternoon was slipping away, and partly because we realized my pants had ripped open in the back. Still, that didn’t stop us from squeezing in a little café break with coffee and cookies, and even managing to find another postcard to send home.

Back at the hotel, L weighed whether to mend the pants, but they were clearly past their prime. The decision was made final when she pulled the tear wide open, while I was still wearing them. The look on her face? Absolutely priceless. And that was the end of those pants.

After a bit of rest and recovery, we set out again, this time to Dotonbori, Osaka’s neon-lit entertainment and food district. We joined the steady stream of tourists taking photos with the Glico Running Man sign, a now-iconic billboard that’s been lighting up the canal-side skyline since 1935. Originally a simple advertisement for Glico’s caramel candy, the image of a victorious runner crossing the finish line has become a symbol of Osaka itself. It doesn’t necessarily make much sense, but like many tourist rituals, it endures because it’s the thing to do. It’s popular because it’s popular, an endless cycle of smartphone photos and social validation.

We then wandered through the adjacent food street, where restaurants compete for attention with oversized sculptures of their signature dishes: giant crabs waving their legs, golden babies smiling from rooftops, and gyoza the size of cars. It was surreal, fun, and slightly overwhelming. The amount of tourists, ourselves included, made for a slightly stressful walk, so we didn’t linger too long.

On the way back to the hotel, we stopped by a supermarket to stock up for the next day. With plans to visit the Expo, we didn’t want to be at the mercy of inflated vendor prices, and instead preferred to pick snacks we genuinely wanted to try.

We just managed to catch the second-to-last train, a lucky break. One more misstep and we would’ve ended the day with a late-night stroll we didn’t ask for. Sometimes, good timing is all you need.