Train- and Roadtrip Japan · 2026
Tokyo · Kyoto · Osaka · Hokkaido
June 27, 2026
Hiking in Japan: Snow Walls, Volcanoes and Phlox-Magic.
Sweaty and with snow caked ankles, I set foot on the crater rim and am nearly blown over. Gusts of wind shoot sideways; before me lies a black-and-colorful desert of lava, and just a few yards away, steam rises from a fissure. “Wooaaaah!” I shout into the howling wind, laughing, waving my arms about, absolutely thrilled and mildly concerned. I’m hiking in Japan—on Mount Tarumae in Hokkaido, which is an active volcano. I hadn’t really given it much thought. Sure, it could erupt at some point, but I’d probably just see a few old dormant boulders lying around. But this thing is steaming—and not just a little!
We’re traveling Japan for a month—Tokyo and Kyoto are already behind us, and now it’s on to the wild north: Hokkaido. Where walls of snow tower, the ground bubbles, and moss phlox covers the slopes with a fluffy pink blanket. A place of extremes, caught between fire and frost. Let’s go!
June 13, 2026
Kyoto: Spirit Animals, a Moss Temple & 10.000 Torii.
It’s warm and sunny as I turn onto a small side street on the wooded slopes of Kyoto. It instantly becomes quieter. There’s no official sign pointing to what I’m looking for, but I know it’s there because I was here once before, nine years ago: a moss temple. And when I say “moss temple,” I don’t just mean a small tuft on the ground or a bit of green roofing. I mean MOSS. Everywhere.
I’m spending a month in Japan. First, I’ll be traveling solo for a week and a half, then my husband will join me from the U.S. After visiting immersive museums and flower festivals in Tokyo, I took the Shinkansen bullet train to Kyoto. Here, time moves more slowly; here, the spirit of ancient Japan wafts through wind chimes, winding temple complexes, and the canopies of subtropical deciduous trees. Not in the modern city center, which is as gray and indistinguishable as any major city, but in the outskirts bordering the lush nature that surrounds the metropolis in the valley like a wall. I set out in search of moss gardens and a sea of stones, of spirit animals and ten thousand red gates. Time to let time be time and find a moment of tranquility in a city where Zen is not a trend, but a way of life.
May 30, 2026
Tokyo: From digital Art to Mount Fuji's Flower Fields.
Tokyo—I’m freaking out. Huge crowds, everything’s blinking and flashing, and anime and cosplay madness is screaming at me.
Wait a minute. Not true at all.
When I arrive in Japan after a 14-hour flight, crossing the North Pole, I’m completely wiped out because a toddler in the row behind me has been screaming on and off all night. Every 15 minutes over and over again. The entire plane was totally amused. Not. So much for “screaming at me.” Compared to this the noise level on the main street next to the subway in downtown Tokyo is nothing. There are tons of quiet electric cars, various building facades covered in vertical greenery, and no one is yelling, honking, or spitting on the ground. My first evening after the long flight is accordingly relaxed.
It’s mid-April, the cherry blossoms are gone, and I’m spending a week and a half alone in Japan before my husband joins me from the U.S.
During these one and a half weeks, I actually find the garishly colorful plastic world I was afraid of—though early in the morning, when the party is over. I walk through a room filled with water and a hall full of floating orchids, discover a forest temple in the heart of the city, stumble upon accidental azaleas, and ride a rental bike around the base of Mount Fuji. Come along to a Tokyo that’s surprisingly different from what you might imagine.