KR&JP 2013 Travelogue Day 12: Castle, costume, craft and cinema in Kyoto

Although logistical concerns with checking out of the hostel and getting out limited my range of mobility on my second day in Kyoto, I managed to get my primary targets in, along with some surprises, and even a couple of "ordinary citizen" activities.

As with yesterday's adventures, I bumped into a couple more unexpected places in this history-packed city. One of them, which I encountered on an early morning walk through a residential area (top left), was the neck-up grave site of Akechi Mitsuhide, identified by a plaque (top right).

Akechi is known for launching a sneak rebellion at Honno-ji that resulted in the death of the first great Sengoku lord, Oda Nobunaga, as well as Oda's eldest son and heir, Nobutada. While his rebellion succeeded in decapitating the Oda clan, retaliatory strikes by Oda's loyal daimyo and their samurai armies ensured that it was short-lived; he was routed, and died while fleeing.

Even so, he had a major impact on Japanese history by ensuring the demise of the Oda clan, and giving two of Oda Nobunaga's subordinates, Toyotomi Hideyoshi and Tokugawa Ieyasu, opportunities to rise in rank and eventually shape the future of the shogunate government. His followers are said to have buried his head at this location, now marked with a "cabinet shrine" (bottom left) containing a simple altar (bottom right).

As the sun broke past the horizon, I headed to my first of two major destinations of the day: the Heian Shrine. This Shinto shrine, like Osaka's Sumiyoshi Shrine and the Fushimi Inari Shrine to the south, is one of the 1st-ranked shrines of Japan. It was also built as scale model of erstwhile imperial residence Heian Palace, which is a good thing from a sightseeing perspective, because there is nothing left of the original palace.

I accessed the shrine through the main (naturally, southern) path, walking the bridge across the Okazaki Canal (top), and passing under the grand torii (bottom). Towering at a height of over 24 metres, it is one of the tallest torii in Japan, and its imposing height, bright vermilion surface and gold embellishments make it look especially resplendent in the morning sun.

The shrine itself is located at the end of the pathway, which is flanked by various art museums, one of which I will visit later. Unlike the shrines I visited previously, and perhaps as a consequence of the aforementioned architectural precedent, it is mostly "whole", with one huge courtyard (bottom), level and clean but for a dragon fountain (top right), encircled by shrine buildings (left top and left centre) painted with liberal splashes of vermilion and most outstandingly roofed with tiles of a beautifully contrasting blue-green color.

And today was an especially good day to be here, because Heian Shrine is the starting point for the Jidai Matsuri, one of Kyoto's annual grand festivals, or matsuri, celebrated with a fabulous parade of everyday people in traditional costumes, marching or riding from here through the city to the Kyoto Imperial Palace.

I did have other plans for the morning, having only found out about this festival the previous night, but the experience was worth clearing out a couple of hours of schedule. It was a visual buffet of history in living color and on living persons. Samurai, priests, attendants, nobles, even early modern era characters -- you name it, they wore it.

After watching the parade depart, I spent the late morning and early afternoon at Nijo Castle. This large, doubly-fortified, Tokugawa-built complex is one of the major destinations of Kyoto. After crossing the outer moat (top right) and entering the main gate (top left), I took a look around the outer grounds and the towers (bottom left), including some reconstruction displays of life here during the age of the samurai (bottom right).

A grand karamon gate (top left), decorated all over with gold, welcomes visitors to the beautiful Ninomaru Palace (top right). Its magnificent rooms' walls are covered with fine gold leaf floor-to-ceiling paintings, and its doorways are decorated with intricate wood carvings (bottom left). An especially interesting feature of this place is the so-called "nightingale" flooring (bottom right), named for the way the floors are built to chirp when walked on by, say, intruders. Encircled by the inner moat is Honmaru Palace, but that palace is only open for special viewings.

Even so, there was plenty to explore, such as the lovely gardens (top left and top right) and ponds (left centre), the inner moat (right centre), and various vantage points from which I could take in great views of the castle buildings and the serene landscape (bottom).

Last but not least in the daylight itinerary was the Kyoto Museum of Traditional Crafts (top), located near the Heian Shrine grand torii. This building featured extensive exhibitions of the traditional cultural arts and crafts of the country, and also had a special showcase of tradition-based design for modern uses (bottom) in one of the lower levels.

As I typically do when I visit other countries, I slotted in some time to eschew tourist sites and experience some citizens' entertainment. To that end, I spent the early evening in BiVi Nijo (top left), a fairly large shopping complex, at the theater (top right) of which I watched the very well-made film, Like Father Like Son (top centre). After that, I went over to the huge gaming area to try my luck trying to win Hatsune Miku figurines (bottom left) and other knick-knacks (bottom centre), as well as playing a really awesome mecha combat simulator in a sealed cockpit controller environment (bottom right).

I spent my last hour before departure in Gion, a neighborhood known for its geisha/maiko patronage and the  architecture. Didn't do much there other than walk around and grab a light dinner, though.

Having woken up super-early, with plenty of time to spare before anything on my agenda opened, I started the day with a leisurely Japanese breakfast (left top) of rice, nori, raw egg, soup and natto. I suppose the sliminess of natto might put off first-timers, as I heard it would, but I did not have a problem, having eaten weirder things on my travels past; frankly, the raw egg was of bigger concern to me. I was also looking forward to trying this dish, as it was highly unlikely to make it to a menu in Dubai. Other than this meal, I stopped by a few cafes between places, including the adorable bear-themed cafe (left bottom) near Ginkaku-ji, and tried some Japanese cinema concessions (right) at BiVi Nijo.

Aside from BiVi Nijo, I did not see much of modern Kyoto, as I had plenty of historical places to visit. I did make an exception, though, for the area around Kyoto Tower (left). But it was a short one, as I had to then make a quick stop at the central station left luggage lockers (automated, of course) before boarding my first Shinkansen train (right top) for a short, comfortable, airplane-like ride (right bottom) to Nagoya.

(top left) Cute cartoon Shell bear.
(top right) Calorie count for taking the stairs.
(bottom left) Multiple pronunciations for the same character (here, '大') -- something kanji shares with hanzi.
(bottom right) You couldn't find an Indian-looking mannequin, so you took a White one and painted him dark brown while leaving the blue eyes and red hair intact. I have no words.

KR&JP 2013 Travelogue Day 11: Tombs, shrine and manga in Kyoto

And it's goodbye to Osaka. Kind of, because I'm still in Keihanshin, and Kyoto is a short ride away. It was also my first workweek day in Japan, so I got a little experience of the legendary morning subway squeeze on my way to the intercity trail transfer station.

I alighted in Kyoto's Fushimi ward, where I would spend the rest of the morning, at the foot of Momoyama ("Peach Mountain"). Momoyama, a few kilometres south of Kyoto's city centre, has some urban areas around its base, but much of it is densely forested with trees old (bottom). This made the long walk up the tracks to Fushimi-Momoyama Castle gorgeously scenic (top).

The interior of the reconstructed castle (top left) is closed to visitors, but the grounds are open for ambling. Two main keeps (top right) tower over the smaller structures and gates (bottom left). The castle was constructed by Toyotomi Hideyoshi, and while not particularly large, is a little extra-luxurious on the inside, having been also intended to be his residence after retirement. The Toyotomi clan crest of the paulownia/kiri, which was also adopted as the seal of the present-day Japanese Government, can be seen in some of the castle's decorative components (bottom right).

A short distance away to the west is what I consider a major historical landmark for Kyoto: the tomb of Emperor Kanmu. The tomb is forested over and fenced off, but it's a beautiful place to walk around and pay a visit to the resting place of the emperor who not only created the title of shogun, but also put Kyoto on the map. Yes, Kanmu establishing Kyoto as his imperial capital, starting the Heian period. From then on, it was where emperors would remain for over a millennium -- even after the ascendant shoguns reduced them to figureheads a few centuries later -- all the way to the end of the 19th century and the shift of the re-empowered imperial dynasty's capital to Tokyo by Emperor Meiji.

Incidentally, Meiji's own tomb is a short walk southeast of Kanmu's. It's also fenced off, but the grey stone-covered tomb mound is clearly visible (top right). One can see the golden imperial crest of chrysanthemum/kikka on each door of the inner gate too (left centre). Visiting in autumn, I could enjoy the sight of the rich and diverse hues of the trees at the site (bottom). The tomb is located at a substantial height, with one cleared side facing the southern city, which afforded me a good view down (left top).

Walking southward down the very long flight of stairs (right) leading out from the Meiji tomb, I ran into a small shrine complex (left bottom), dedicated to some major figures in Meiji's administration (top left and top centre).

Another place I came across unexpectedly on the way to the station was the tomb of Emperors Komyo and Suko, the second and third emperors, respectively, of the Northern Court (the so-called Ashikaga Pretenders). They ruled from Kyoto during a period in which the imperial line was temporarily split into two branches, the other ruling from the Southern Court at Yoshino. Fukakusa no Kita no Misasagi, another important imperial tomb, is also in Fushimi, but I did not have the time to locate it.

Due to the dense schedule, morning activities were powered by a salmon onigiri (top left) and a boiled egg (top right) from a convenience store. The egg was borderline hard-boiled and was seasoned within the shell, so it had a slightly salty taste without the need for addition of the seasoning. The uniquely Japanese lactic acid beverage, Calpis (bottom left), is not really my thing, but it had an interesting taste. I also grabbed a genuine Japanese Pocky (bottom right) before heading up the next mountain destination. I have fond memories of these from my anime days.

After a train ride a little further up north, I entered the centrepiece of my day's agenda: Fushimi Inari Taisha. The gargantuan shrine complex is dedicated to Inari, the patron kami of the mercantile class (among other patronages), and is the focal shrine for Inari enshrinement. One of Inari's manifestations is the fox/kitsune, beautiful stylized statues of which appear at many places (right and top left) in the shrine complex. Par for Inari shrines, vermilion torii straddle every turn (left top and left bottom).

Apart from the requisite cabinet shrines (top left) and enclave shrines (top right), there are some large central shrine buildings in a variety of architectural forms (bottom left and bottom right), mostly of the later styles.

The place is also loaded; gold-plated decorative finials and other parts abound (top left and top right), aesthetically in harmony with their vermilion-painted backdrops. Shrine visitors also leave walls of votive icons, including some in the shapes of torii (bottom left) and kitsune faces (bottom right).

I decided to go for the full shrine experience, and walk the entire mountain trail circuit, which took about three hours even though I ran about half its length. The trail is paved, so it's not a bad walk, assuming you don't get lost; sometimes, you come across a platform that seems like the end of the road (bottom right), only to notice another path leading even further up.

The trail's most distinctive feature is the thousands of torii (top left) that straddle it every couple of metres, creating a tunnel effect. Most are vermilion-painted wood, but a few are stone (bottom left). I also passed by numerous roadside shrines (top centre) and small shrine buildings (top right) branching off the trail, each of a unique design.

I finally reached the top of the mountain (top left) and its peak shrine (top centre), and rested for a while to enjoy the view (top right) before descending via the return path (bottom), also lined with thousands of torii.

Having only had the aforementioned Pocky, and then an Asahi beer at a cafe (top) to fuel my ascent, I decided to grab a bite at one of the restaurants that can be found -- usually in clusters -- along the trail on my way down. The specialty of this area is kitsune udon (bottom), a dashi soup of buckwheat noodles with pieces of fried thin-cut tofu called aburaage -- said to be a favorite of the kitsune, and therefore very appropriate for an Inari shrine.

The trek took up most of my afternoon, so hurried down to the city and spent my last remaining slot of the day at the Kyoto International Manga Museum. The museum is comprehensive, covering the history of manga from its origins to the present day, and featuring a number of special purpose rooms and activity areas. It also has a lawn where people can relax and read from their collections.

I spread dinner over three spots. Two of them were yakitori houses (top row), and at one of which I also tried some lovely Japanese fruit liqueur (bottom right). Most outstanding, though, was the stewed pork strip (bottom left). After tasting this awesome savory and tender dish in Osaka, I hopped around the neighborhood until I finally found a place that served it.

(top) Dog is happy to be prohibited from entering Emperor Kanmu's tomb grounds
(bottom) Automated parking warden only folds down and lets your wheel pass over it when you pay the required amount

KR&JP 2013 Travelogue Day 10: Sakai kofun, Nara palace and Osaka fugu

A lot of outer- and out-of-city travel meant I had to get an early start for the day.

Osaka's city transit network is connected to the intercity rail network for the Keihanshin (Greater Osaka) area, including surrounding cities and prefectures. As my morning's itinerary required me to be south out of the city, I headed to Namba station and took the Nankai line to cover both of my morning destinations (this here is a "rapi:t" express train, and not the one I took, but it looked really cool).

The first being Sumiyoshi Taisha, also my first Shinto shrine complex visit. The taisha is located well south of Osaka, about half the way to Sakai, and has a station very close by. As one enters the huge complex, flashes of bright vermilion, characteristic of the Shinto palette, leap out from the background of dark green foliage and beige stone.

This taisha is the high shrine over all shrines dedicated to the three kami (domain spirits) of Sumiyoshi. Long stone pathways lines with lamp-posts (top left) run along the grounds, and past numerous "cabinet shrines" (top right) dedicated to individual kami. Other sights include the wall of sake barrels dedicated to the shrine, and the wall of votive tablets from devotees.

It is also host to examples of the eponymous "Sumiyoshi-zukuri" style of shrine architecture. This style predates the arrival of Buddhism from the mainland, and is therefore free of the architectural influences of the same. Dark wood and vermilion-painted pillars support roofs of thatch or bronze, many ending in forked "chigi" finials characteristic of Sumiyoshi-zukuri.

A few washing tubs of different designs (top left and top right) are available for devotees. Statuary is limited to the one horse I found (bottom left), and a few trees are also marked with the typical Shinto yorishiro -- thick, tasseled rope and folded paper links that are associated with the presence of kami.

I hopped back onto the Nankai to head further south to Sakai, a place I'd wanted to see for many years. after hearing of the impressive kofun, or tumuli, that dot the place. While China and Korea have their share of tumuli -- some, like Mount Li (Qin Shi Huang Di's tomb), being rather grand -- Japan's tumulus-building tradition took a design detour into the shape of the keyhole, often surrounded by a moat, and liberally sprinkled with artistically-unique clay figurines called haniwa (bottom, second from right).

Sakai features numerous kofun of both the round and keyhole kind (top right), and I passed a few of these while navigating the vicinity of Mozu Kofungun there (top left and top centre). But the biggest by far is Daisen Kofun, which is, by area, the largest grave in the world. This massive keyhole tumulus is thought to be the grave of the 16th emperor (by traditional lineage) of Japan, Nintoku, who reigned in the early 4th century CE. While the tomb, surrounded by three moats, was probably constructed to have clean edges and faces (concept model at bottom extreme right), it ended up weathered and grown over into a keyhole-shaped forested hill (bottom extreme left). The observation tower (bottom, second from left) was not open , but it is still an awesome thing to view from across the moat at ground level.

Sakai is also famous for another reason: it is the birthplace of one Sen no Rikyu, a Sengoku-period tea master who is practically the father of the Japanese tea ceremonies and traditions. A traditional Edo-period tea house still stands near the kofungun, and I thought I would just check it out and grab a cuppa on my way to the museum.

I ended up in a rather awkward and unexpected situation: a solemn tea ceremony, with everyone very much Japanese, and dressed in kimono or formal-wear. And among them, wet, haggard, foreign me in travel clothes, holding seiza posture for as long as I could bear it, before collapsing into the more familiar and comfortable cross-legged position, nursing throbbing haunches (seiza is something with which you have to grow up, it would seem).

My hosts and co-sippers were very understanding, however, and we participated in a lovely experience of tea preparation, serving, and drinking. I just sort of followed everyone else's lead, which worked out pretty well.

The Sakai museum (top left), also close to the kofungun, contains numerous artifacts from the earliest periods in Japanese history, including a Gaya-style cuirass, kabuto like the one at the entrance (top right) and some that have suspended disks like in the Samguk style, a Samguk-style saddle and a 5th century haniwa horse with stirrups. It also features a 3-metre-long matchlock gun from the gunpowder age. A little exhibition on the Daisen Kofun has an interesting superimposition display, comparing it with Mount Li and Khufu's Great Pyramid.

I took the Nankai back to Osaka to change trains for an east-bound to Nara City. Nara, which is the capital city of the prefecture of the same name, was one of the historical imperial capitals of Japan for 8 decades in the 8th century, which came to be called the Nara Period. Nara's mascot is the deer, a relationship rooted in a tale from Shinto folklore.

The main attraction for the history buff here would be Heijo-Kyo Palace, the seat of the empire from when Nara was Japan's capital. Much of the foundation has been exposed, but most of the palace park is bare, but for two reconstructed exceptions: Suzaku Gate (top left) and the Daigokuden, or Great Hall of State (bottom left), in which the also-reconstructed Takamikura, or imperial throne (top right), is placed together with other palace components. Great views of the site can be had from both Suzaku Gate (top centre) and Daigokuden (bottom centre). A few illustrations (bottom right) imagine what ceremonial assemblies would have been like in the heyday of Nara, when it was still Heijo-Kyo (note the three-footed bird on the standard, by the way).

Around the main palace grounds and the gardens (bottom left), I visited the locations of a few satellite palace buildings (top left) and some small museum buildings that exhibited remains from the excavations (top centre and top right). Clouds rolling over the mountains (bottom right) and bagpipe dude playing among the ruins (bottom centre) gave the place a momentary Scottish atmosphere.

Near Suzaku Gate is the main site museum. It's not particularly large, but it has a nice theatre for screening short documentaries and docu-dramas about Heijo-Kyo, as well as a life-sized reconstruction of a period ship of the sort that Japanese emissaries would have used. In here, one can read and watch about important figures in relations between Tang China and Nara Japan, such as the Japanese emissaries Abe no Nakamaro, Kibi no Makibi, Fujiwara no Kiyokawa and Tajihi no Hironari, and the particularly determined Chinese Buddhist monk Ganjin (Jianzhen).

Unfortunately, I did not have time to see other major places like Saiho-Ji (top left), or the famous Kasuga Taisha and Deer Park. I spent the early evening wandering the (fairly common in Japan) roofed leisure streets downtown (bottom left and bottom centre), and checking out other cultural sights, such as the statue of Gyoki (top right), a Nara-based monk who was one of Japan's most famous historical Buddhist personalities. I took a little break to listen to Soramoyuuto (bottom right), who performed a couple of songs at the public space near the Gyoki statue, and well enough to convince me to get myself a copy of their EP.

Plenty of interesting observations for the day, including winding stair rails (left) -- either for the aging population or to discourage skateboard stunts -- and cars designed using the "kei" aesthetic (right). I also noticed that bus drivers turn off their engines at traffic signals, in order to conserve fuel and limit pollution. And, unlike in Dubai, you never have to pay for water at restaurants and cafes. On the other hand, unlike in Dubai, and for that matter unlike in neighboring Korea, free/complimentary WiFi is practically nonexistent; wherever public WiFi is found, it seems to be run by DoCoMo or some other operator, and is therefore accessible only through a service subscription.

On the topic of restaurants, I had a toast breakfast at Sumiyoshi Station's Lanvin Coffee and Grill; I noticed that served toast in Japan tends to be white and very thick. I also gave the KFC near Nara station a try (top right); it's quite different here, and quite good too, offering soup, rice balls and chicken brushed with a savory sauce and bits of nori. In the evening in Nara, I tried the famous katsu curry (bottom left) and some kind of mash burger (bottom right).

I cannot see her tonight

I have to give her up

So I will eat fugu

The main culinary adventure of the day was during my night back in Osaka, wandering the shopping, drinking and eating places along the streets of Abeno ward (top left). I scouted about for a reputable-looking restaurant for supper, because they were the only kind that were permitted to serve the potentially fatal dish I was about to try. I only had raw fugu, in the form of strips (bottom left) and slices (bottom right), with some warm sake (top right). It had a mild taste, not unlike white fish sushi, but with a slightly more chewy texture.

Now quite pleased with myself, I ambled around Abeno a little longer, sampling different sake (bottom left and bottom right). One of the more interesting bars I visited was Blue Sky Bar (top left) at a corner of a place I think was called Abeny East. It's an open-air bar -- not a common sight here -- and is decorated with odds and ends, plus clippings about it from newspapers (top right). Yes, it's sort of famous. Patrons sit around the kiosk, served and chatted up by Matsa, the charismatic tender. Matsa knows a little English, and has a small hanging drum that he dramatically strikes whenever someone cracks a joke (from what I figured), as pictured above. I spent the remainder of the late hours there, pleased at my very productive day.

KR&JP 2013 Travelogue Day 9: Castle, Kabuki and Kansai jazz in Osaka

From Japanese media, my image of Osaka was that people there have a strange dialect, and that it has a big castle, a tasty pancake recipe and a possibly magical shopping district. But there's a lot more to my first Japan tour stop, the capital of Kansai, and one of the largest (and quirkiest) cities of Japan.

I had a lot of help from www.japan-guide.com in getting locations and timing. Still, some places I went to were a bit out of the way or obscure, meaning I also had to do some serious research (many Japanese websites do not have English versions, especially the ones of the more obscure/out-of-the-way places). English knowledge is not very common; I learnt some basic Japanese, but I kept sounding like Damuramu from Dragon Half whenever I spoke it.

Early morning on a Sunday. Woke up from a relaxing sleep at the friendly and conveniently-located Chisun Inn Osaka Hommachi. The subway stations are huge, and often packed with shops selling all sorts of goods and foods. The automated ticket vending machines are easy to use, but transport in Japan is relatively expensive -- even public transport. The passenger rail system is well-connected to the rest of the Keihanshin megalopolis, as well as numerous smaller towns and cities in the surrounding area -- very useful for the next day's agenda.

Top: Branded manholes; Bottom: Public notice on cleanliness

But for today, it's all Osaka. Like other Japanese cities I visited, a lot of city pride is visible: for instance, manholes are branded with sometimes very colorful designs, and the streets are clean and well-kept. A lot of manpower is in employ: if a section of sidewalk is closed off, they'll have someone at each end, guiding people onto and off the diversion path. Also, this was my first acquaintance with the custom of not forking over cash hand-to-hand, but putting it in a cash transfer tray. Like the rest of East Asia, there's no tipping custom here either, bless them.

Heading southwards, my first stop was the Shitenno-ji: the temple of the four heavenly kings. I generally didn't visit a lot of Buddhist temples in Japan, preferring to devote temple visit time to more uniquely Japanese Shinto shrines. The reason for making an exception with this one is that it's of major historical importance: it's the first Buddhist temple in Japan, built on the orders of the famous prince, Shotoku Taishi, himself.

Not only that, it segued nicely from my preceding week in Korea, as he invited builders from the ancient Korean kingdom of Baekje (a major source of Buddhist and other culture for ancient Japan) to help construct the temple.

The temple is beautiful, with ornate gates flanked by guardian statues, a large compound housing various dark wood- and patina bronze-roofed shrines and halls, and a tall pagoda towering over all. There is also a small museum onsite, which exhibits some Buddhist relics, including a giant pair of two- and three-tomoe dragon/phoenix drums and, upstairs, an especially exquisite set of Buddhist-themed kiri-e paper-cut depictions of Shotoku and the four heavenly kings.

Not far from the city center was my next stop: the palace site of Naniwa (left, middle). It's not a well-known fact, but Osaka briefly served as an imperial capital, and this palace was built on orders of Emperor Kotoku in 645 for this reason. Like most other East Asian buildings, it was made of wood, and therefore did not survive the ravages of time. What remains are the foundations of the platforms and pillars, now located in a rather nice park. Across the road are some reconstructed artifacts of ancient Osaka, such as the storehouse with characteristic boat-shaped roof (right).

The Osaka Museum of History is housed in a nearby bursting-pod-like tower (left) that happens to share a lobby with the local HQ of NHK, the Japanese TV broadcaster. I walked in on a live shoot in progress -- seemingly of one of those show formats where a panel of celebrities watch and comment on other TV personalities doing whatever (can't think of a better way to put it). Fans crowded around the open face of the studio (right) to catch a glimpse of their idols.

(clockwise from top left) Miniature of early boat, resembling samguk-era Korean boats; Court scene; House roof miniature; Ancient cuirass

The museum has a huge collection of artifacts and reconstructions, many dating to the dawn of Japanese culture. The models of houses, and even whole towns, are very detailed and well-presented.

Left: Ritual sickles; Top right: sacrificial array; Bottom right: Red lacquer serving set

Also displayed there are many traditional items from Japanese culture.

The ideal route begins at the top, working one's way down the levels using the stairs. The stairwell runs along the window edge of the building, which overlooks and offers a lovely, multi-perspective, and semi-panoramic view of the nearby Osaka Castle -- my next stop.

(clockwise from top left) Castle moat; Castle tower; A kendo school (inset: crest of Taira, from elsewhere in the city -- I just found it amusing); A hall in the compound (inset: crest of Tokugawa)

Osaka Castle is visually very striking, with a beautiful combination of white sides, patina bronze roofing, and intricate gold embellishments of fish, tigers, and other motifs making it instantly recognizable.

Located in a vast walled compound surrounded by a large moat and including numerous historical buildings, it was built by command and design of the almost-shogun Toyotomi Hideyoshi. A generation later, it was wrested from his clan by Tokugawa Ieyasu; thanks to the defensive capabilities of the castle, however, this was not an easy job for the Tokugawas.

Within the grounds are numerous historical (and some recent) buildings, gardens and monuments, including a statue of and shrine to Toyotomi Hideyoshi (top left and top middle; note the Toyotomi crests on the banners) and a time capsule (bottom left). The main keep (right) is open to visitors, and houses a museum of its own.

The castle was the skyscraper of its day, and is still an impressive construction, affording visitors a beautiful panoramic view of the castle grounds and city center from the viewing deck near the top of the main keep.

Wearing the reconstructed ray-decorated helmet of Toyotomi Hideyoshi (left), and firing a few at the range (right)

I was, of course, happy to indulge in some historical role play there.

I rushed back to the hotel to get ready for a little fine cultural experience at the Shochiku-Za Theatre in Namba. It's one of the oldest running kabuki theaters in Japan, dating back nearly a century. I purchased my ticket well in advance on the online portal; it was possibly the most expensive single ticket I have ever bought for a non-VIP seat. True to Japanese form, it started bang on time.

Being a Kamakura era fan, I had wanted to see Yoshitsune Senbon Zakura, but it was only running in Tokyo, where I could not spare the time, meaning I had to settle for Natsu Matsuri Naniwa Kagami. It was still a good play -- an amazing hours-long experience of flawless and ambitious technical execution, rich costumes and sets, and directorial perfection. The tachimawari segment, which took place on the banks of a onstage lake of real water and mud, was really as spellbinding as I had heard it would be, with a panicked-yet-comical Danshichi staggering through the prolonged murder scene in his bright red fundoshi.

After the show, I visited Osaka's "jazz building" at 1-6-18 Namba, located among the shopping streets, not far from the theater. The building, called "Chuwa Dixie", has a music bar on each floor. I visited the two jazz bars, Top Rank (left) and Bird/56, located on the 2nd and 3rd floors, respectively. Both had quite the jazz music collection, although neither had live acts that night.

I spent more time in Top Rank, browsing its walls of jazz record stacks, interrupted by the occasional antiquated playback device; all of these made it something of a jazz and audio-tech museum. Yakata de Voce (right), a jazz and bossa nova bar on the top floor, had a nice live act on, so I spent a fair while there too.

Jazz done with, I ambled around Namba, and down the infamous Dotonbori (top left). Plenty of jaw-dropping neon (top right) and inexplicable signage (bottom left) around. I never thought I'd ever seen Tommy Lee Jones and SMAP side by side (bottom right), but the Japanese have some interesting tastes in product endorsement. I also dropped by the famous Tako Tako King pub for a takoyaki and drink.

The Japanese use vending machines wherever possible, including for ordering food (left) at many lower- and middle-end eateries. This makes for a much faster and cleaner process, especially given the price of labor. Not long after arriving in Japan, I also encountered the famous Japanese toilet and its fancy control panel (right). It's pretty self-explanatory.

So, on to F&B. I wasted no time getting a proper bento box (top left) as soon as I arrived in Japan the night before. Before heading in to the castle, I also grabbed a seafood soup with barley and a crunchy shrimp and veg fritter (top right) from the cafe just outside, and enjoyed an authentic okonomiyaki (middle left) from a stand near the main keep.

After the kabuki show, I tucked into a ramen bowl (middle right) from Akebono Ramen, just opposite the theater. Judging by the signage, it seems to have been started by a sumo wrestler. The ramen was delicious, but it was especially the pork strip on top that blew my mind, as did every other I had in Kansai. I don't know what they do to get it that way, but it is unbelievably succulent, and just bursting with umami.

My visit to Top Rank was my first time trying Yebisu (bottom left), one of Japan's oldest beer labels. Earlier in the day, I also grabbed a few snacks from the bakeries, which are quite distinctive in style and fare in Japan (bottom middle and right).