Journey to Japan: Osaka Expo 2025 - Queues, Red Dots and Red Ballons

Day 11

We started the day bracing for queues, and we were not disappointed. At the East Gate entrance of the Expo site, the crowd was already massive before the gates even opened. It was 10 a.m., the sun was out and umbrellas sprouted like mushrooms after the rain, except they weren’t here to soak up water, but to provide portable shade. This Expo is meant to attract even more visitors during the hotter summer months, which honestly feels like a bold choice considering how things already looked and felt in mid-May.

Fully embracing my inner German tourist, I was kitted out with running shoes, breathable pants, my Sendai half marathon shirt, sunglasses, sun hat, and a trusty Deuter backpack packed with our own food and drinks to avoid overpriced snacks on site. The only thing missing was a flag sticking out of my pack.

The queuing situation eased up in the afternoon, mercifully. In the morning, we simply didn't feel like joining the long lines in the sun. But by midday, things had settled, and we could explore more freely.

We started by walking around the site, passing under the giant wooden ring structure, the Expo's architectural centerpiece and a sight to behold. Suspended above the central walkway and covered in timber sourced from all over Japan, this circular walkway offered a view of the Expo grounds from above. Of course, I couldn’t resist taking a photo of myself up there with the Singapore Pavilion in the background, its giant red circular shape perfectly foreshadowing my second stop after Japan.

Fittingly, the first pavilion we visited was The Philippines, right near the entrance and also L’s home country.

We eventually met up again with M, a friend from my student days in Tübingen, who was there this time with her parents. They were queuing at the Poland Pavilion, and though the meetup was short (they had timed reservations and she had to pick up her son later), it was still sweet. Her parents were incredibly polite and formal, her father even bowed deeply in greeting, catching me completely off guard.

Then came one of the day’s quiet highlights: a small exhibition focused on recovery efforts in disaster-hit regions, particularly the aftermath of the 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake and Tsunami. One exhibit from Miyagi Prefecture offered tastings of local specialties, Tokura-ko oysters, shrimp, and Migaki-Ichigo strawberries served with honey. It was touching and sobering, but also heartwarming: the region that just a week ago had welcomed me for a half-marathon was now back on my plate, literally. Choosing Miyagi over other regional food samples felt right.

L and I resumed our exploration and visited several memorable pavilions.

The Spain Pavilion impressed with its flowing, ocean-inspired architecture and exhibits focused on marine ecosystems and climate change. Inside, we encountered interactive displays, a nod to Spanish gastronomy enhanced by robotics, and even some cultural flair, most importantly in the form of an iced coffee for L.

At the Australia Pavilion, themed "Chasing the Sun", we were greeted by a eucalyptus-blossom-inspired design and a multisensory journey through Australia's landscape, culture, and innovation. The use of repurposed materials and Indigenous storytelling gave it both heart and depth.

The Osaka Metropolitan University Pavilion, built in collaboration with Iida Group, focused on “Wellness Smart Cities.” A large diorama and immersive exhibits explored how future urban living could balance technology, sustainability, and human well-being. The textile-clad exterior from Kyoto added a nice traditional touch.

Each pavilion offered its own take on the future, and walking through them felt like jumping between worlds of possible tomorrows.

Of course, we also had to stop by the German Pavilion, where the queue felt like a mini German meetup. While waiting, a Japanese man entertained the crowd with a karaoke rendition of Nena’s "99 Luftballons". The first verse was surprisingly spot-on, but by the second and third, he was clearly struggling with pronunciation, but the crowd cheered all the same. Points for effort and heart.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the Expo transformed. Pavilions lit up, each creating a new nighttime character. We squeezed in a few more stops: Singapore, Ireland, and Malaysia, though some of the more popular pavilions had already closed their queues for the evening.

While we were there, my friend S (also from Tübingen) had returned to Osaka and spontaneously decided to visit the Expo for yet another half day. We watched the drone show together from the wooden ring, an impressive display of light and precision that signaled the close of the day. As thousands of visitors were ushered out of the Expo grounds, the massive crowd marched in slow, steady waves toward the subway. It was a strangely satisfying experience of collective order. No pushing, no chaos, just a seamless human river flowing through the East Gate into the station. And despite the hundreds of meters separating Expo exit and train platform, the line never stopped. It just kept on flowing.

After exiting the subway, we all met up with S's husband E, who scouted out already a ramen bar nearby for a well-deserved post-Expo dinner. A bowl of steaming noodles and an ice-cold beer sealed the day: “oishikatta desu.”

And as I fell into bed that night, full of ramen, sweat, and Expo impressions, one thought circled in my mind: halfway around the world, and I still ended up spending the day with three friends from Tübingen, the town I call home.