Tokyo landmarks: The Dark Tower of Otemachi
For years I walked past this building and never once understood it.
It sits there in Otemachi surrounded by glass towers trying very hard to look modern, and then there’s this thing. Solid, ribbed concrete, barely any windows, just kind of looming like it knows something the rest of us don’t. I always thought it looked completely out of place, like it had been dropped in from a different version of Tokyo.
In my head I called it the Dark Tower. It felt like the kind of place where something important was happening, but no one was supposed to ask questions. Not a normal office, not a hotel, definitely not somewhere you casually walk into.
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250 years of US history, seen from Japan
The United States turns 250 this year, which sounds both very old and somehow still quite young at the same time.
What I always find interesting, living in Japan, is how that timeline overlaps in slightly unexpected ways.
When the US was founded in 1776, Japan was deep in the Edo period. Closed off, stable, and not particularly interested in what was happening across the ocean. For a while, the two countries mostly existed side by side.
And then Commodore Perry showed up in 1853.
Black ships, a very direct request to open up, and suddenly things moved quickly. What followed was not just the opening of Japan, but the beginning of a relationship that has evolved into something that now feels completely normal.
That is the part that still surprises me.
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Tokyo landmarks: The Ginza 1-chome Koban
Every time I see a koban like this, I do a double take. A koban is basically a small neighborhood police box, usually simple, practical, and easy to spot when you need help. You’ll find them all over Japan, and they’re the place you go for directions, lost items, or just general “I’m a bit stuck” moments.
And then there are koban like this one in Ginza 1‑chome. Brick base, round window, and that curved, almost cone-shaped top that looks more like it belongs in a design museum than on a street corner. It’s been a bit of a local landmark for years, with its current look dating back to the Showa era when there was a push to give even small public buildings a bit more architectural personality. It has been updated over time, but it has kept that distinctive shape that makes people notice it.
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Off the beaten path: Atami in Shizuoka
There is a very specific kind of luxury in Japan that starts with almost no planning at all.
You just get on a train.
Atami was always that place for me. Close enough to Tokyo that it barely feels like a trip, but just far enough for something to shift. In under an hour, the city drops away, the air turns softer with the sea nearby, and a weekend suddenly feels within reach.
I used to go there more often than I had any real reason to. Not for sightseeing, not for a checklist, but for onsen.
There is something about hot spring water that resets you faster than anything else. You arrive carrying a bit of Tokyo with you, and within minutes, that background noise fades.
What I always liked about Atami is how easily that starts. Even at the station.
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The day Ueno Park taught me not to shake hands
Ueno Park was full of surprises, but some of them came at head height.
If you spent enough weekends there, you eventually encountered them. Street performers sitting very still, dressed in traditional-looking clothing, wearing impossibly tall, exaggerated towering headpieces that made you stop and stare. They looked calm. Respectable. Almost ceremonial.
This was a trap.
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Mt. Fuji, one bite at a time
I’ve never climbed Mt. Fuji.
I’ve thought about it many times, and I know so many people who have done it, but somehow it never quite happened.
What I have done, though, is collect a surprising number of Mt. Fuji–shaped things.
And recently, this very precise little yokan.
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Catnomics: When I realized my cat obsession is also an economic force
This week I learned something both comforting and slightly alarming: my long‑standing obsession with cats is not just personal. It is economic.
After reading about Japan’s so‑called catnomics, the term used to describe the very real money generated by the country’s feline fixation, I had a small moment of clarity. All those years I spent surrounded by cat‑themed everything were not simply the result of weak willpower and good design. They were the outcome of a system that understands exactly how culture, emotion, and spending intersect.
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Another everyday Japan thing: tiny towels
I didn’t realize tiny towels were a thing until I lived in Japan.
At some point, without making a conscious decision, I just started carrying one. Folded neatly. Always in my bag. It became as automatic as grabbing my phone or wallet.
Public restrooms don’t always have paper towels. Sometimes there’s an air dryer, sometimes nothing at all. So you dry your hands on your own towel, fold it back up, and move on. No fuss. No dripping hands. No awkward shaking them dry.
Over time, you stop noticing you’re doing it.
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