Friday kicked off like most travel days do—bleary-eyed, bustling, and with a suitcase that definitely seemed heavier than it was two days ago. We showered, packed up, took a few final pictures with minions at our hotel, and hustled over to Shin-Osaka Station, where we stashed our bags in a locker for the day like seasoned pros. We grabbed some cold drinks from the vending machine. There was a fresh squeezed apple juice machine that we wanted to try but sadly it was out of order… Then it was off to grab our Shinkansen tickets for our evening ride back to Tokyo—future us would thank us for being so prepared.
With tickets in hand and freedom in our step, we hopped on a train to see some temples. Inside the temple? No photos allowed. But honestly, no photo could’ve done it justice anyway. It was breathtaking—absolutely serene and stunning. We even climbed five stories of winding staircases (shoeless, of course—we had to bag and carry our shoes like little tourists-in-training). The view from the top? Worth every step.
Hunger started creeping in, so the hunt for food began. We stumbled upon a small, empty restaurant that looked promising. Turns out, it had 4.5 stars—basically Michelin-level by Japanese standards, since even a 3 is considered impressive here. The food? Let me put it this way: I’m still dreaming about it. I had sake (obviously), and we all added miso soup and white rice to our meals for just 150 yen. That’s like… a dollar. A delicious, cozy, soul-warming dollar.
Bellies full, we wandered a bit more before heading back to Osaka Station—because Charlie had one thing on his mind: the Pokémon store. We found it, of course, and browsed the merch while also checking out those iconic Japanese school backpacks. Yes, the $500 ones. They’re built to last all of elementary school, and honestly, they might survive the apocalypse. Carlynn even tried one on—adorable and stylish. If we believed for half a second that she’d use it more than one year, we would have considered buying her one because it was so darn cute on her!
As dinnertime rolled around, we spotted a low-key restaurant in the station with drool-worthy beef in the window. We took a chance and sat down—best. decision. ever. I had a 200g steak and the most perfect fried potatoes in human history: crispy, golden, seasoned like magic. The kids devoured their own 100g steaks and potatoes like tiny carnivores. Tom went with something called “beer thirty curry,” and I had a Calpis sour that hit the spot. Another winning meal in a week full of them.
Eventually, it was time to grab our bags and board the Shinkansen. Shock of the day: the train was delayed by over five minutes. In Japan! We were stunned. Naturally, we passed the time with snacks—Tom discovered a melon donut that somehow tasted like fresh cantaloupe. We must find it again. It’s our new mission.
The kids relaxed, and Carlynn finally fell asleep after getting increasingly annoyed by a chatty pair of passengers nearby. We realized we’ve officially gone native—we were silently judging loud train talkers. We are one with the Japanese now.
When we reached Tokyo, it was nearly 11 PM. Carlynn was wiped, so I carried her through the station while we hauled our suitcases silently—because dragging them makes noise, and making noise at night is just not the vibe here. We made our transfers like tired little train ninjas, finally arriving at our destination. We pulled all the curtains shut in hopes of a sleep-in tomorrow.
Fingers crossed!
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