Experience– category –

The first time it happened, I was utterly bewildered. I was standing in a small, family-run takoyaki shop near Tennoji, fumbling with my coins. I’d just moved to Osaka, still navigating the city with the wide-eyed caution of a newcomer. ...

As a historian, I'm trained to look for the grand narratives, the pivotal battles, the seismic shifts that shape a culture. Yet, after years of living in Osaka, I've come to understand that the city's truest character isn't found in its ...

The first time it happened, I was genuinely baffled. I was maybe three months into my new life in Osaka, still navigating the city with the wide-eyed caution of a newcomer. I’d stepped into a small, family-run fruit shop in the sprawling...

Step off the Shinkansen at Shin-Osaka Station, and you might feel it before you even hear it. There’s a different energy in the air, a current that runs a little faster, a little louder, and a lot less predictably than the meticulously c...

The morning rush in Osaka has a rhythm all its own. It’s a symphony of rattling train doors, the rhythmic tap of leather shoes on pavement, and the cheerful, digitized jingles of convenience store entrances. For the uninitiated, the answ...

Hello, everyone! It’s Sofia. When I first moved to Osaka, I thought I understood Japan. I’d spent plenty of time in Tokyo, navigating its crisp, orderly streets, admiring the silent, seamless flow of people. Everything had a place, every...

The first time you slide onto a stool at a proper, old-school Izakaya in Osaka, deep in the labyrinthine alleys of Namba or under the rumbling train tracks in Tenma, you’ll feel it. It’s not the warmth of the sake or the smoky kiss of gr...

Hi everyone, Megumi here. As an event planner from Tokyo, my life is about understanding flows—the flow of people at a concert, the flow of conversations at a party. But nothing prepared me for the daily, rhythmic, and sometimes bewilder...

I still remember my first time. I was walking through the tangled, neon-soaked backstreets of Kyobashi, a neighborhood that always feels like it’s just getting its second wind after sunset. I passed restaurant after restaurant, but I was...

People have a picture of Osaka. They see the neon glow of Dotonbori, a dizzying, electric river of light and sound. They imagine the crush of people in Umeda Station, a human tide flowing with relentless, purposeful energy. They hear the...

You feel a tap on your shoulder. You’re standing in the produce section of a Life supermarket, maybe the one near Namba Parks, maybe a smaller Kohyo tucked into a quiet street in Tennoji. You’re holding two daikon radishes, comparing the...

When I first moved to Osaka from Australia, a city where a private backyard and a personal shower are practically constitutional rights, the idea of the neighborhood sento, or public bath, felt deeply alien. Why would anyone, in a modern...