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Hiroshima, Japan

After a very snazzy bullet train ride, we arrived in Hiroshima just in time for lunch and checked into our equally snazzy hotel—our home for the final three nights of the trip.

Not wanting to waste the rest of the afternoon, we headed straight back out in search of lunch. Unfortunately, we seemed to have picked the wrong time and the wrong part of town. Even though it was only 12:30, all the restaurants were either packed with businessmen or completely sold out of food. In the end, we reluctantly settled for pizza—very tasty, but not very Japanese for one if our final meals here!

After lunch, we visited the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum. Built to commemorate the victims of the atomic bomb and to educate visitors about the horrors of nuclear warfare, it was one of the most powerful and moving museums I’ve ever experienced. It was harrowing. I found myself in tears multiple times. The museum covered everything: the lead-up to the bomb, the reasons Hiroshima was chosen, survivor accounts, the scientific development of the bomb, and its devastating aftermath. Photos of victims were few and far between as they are so horrific and yet some of the most haunting exhibits were drawings from survivors—childlike sketches that somehow managed to convey more emotion and horror than any photograph ever could.

Even so, the few physical remnants on display were enough to make your stomach turn—melted metal, vaporised shadows etched into stone, and personal belongings charred beyond recognition. One particularly upsetting section explained how survivors were silenced and ostracised, their radiation-related illnesses misunderstood or deliberately covered up. The pain didn’t end with the blast; it lingered in bodies, families, and memories for generations.

After that heavy experience, we took a quiet walk around the Peace Park to clear our heads, then returned to the hotel for a much-needed drink. We’d been given some novelty gold coins to use at the hotel bar, which made us feel like pirates counting our treasure. We cashed them in for cocktails on the rooftop bar, the city stretched out below us, and the sky slowly turning golden.

For dinner, we found a cosy gyoza place and ordered a generous plate of dumplings along with a spicy dan dan noodle soup to share. The soup gave us a bit of a scare at first—Szechuan pepper has a numbing effect that makes your lips and tongue feel like they’re numb and tingling—but once we realised we weren’t having allergic reactions or strokes, it was actually delicious.

Back at the hotel, we got changed into the free but wildly unflattering pajamas provided in our room and settled in to watch a bit of Japanese TV. It’s hard to explain if you haven’t seen it, but everything is so exaggerated, loud, and brightly coloured—it feels like children’s programming for adults. We gave it about 15 minutes before deciding sleep was the better option.

The next morning was our final walking tour of the trip. It took us around the monuments in Peace Park, starting with the Gates of Peace. After the bomb dropped, survivors described the sky going pitch black with ash and debris, and for over an hour no one could see anything. When visibility returned, all they could see was ruin—buildings flattened, people walking in a daze, their skin literally melting. Then came the infamous black rain. Many thought they had died and gone to hell. The Gates of Peace memorial symbolises Dante’s nine gates of hell—with one additional gate for peace.

Next, we visited the Mother and Child statue, honouring the many women who died trying to protect their children, and all the babies who later died from radiation. Nearby, the Prayer Fountain gently flowed, inspired by survivor stories of people begging for water in the days after the blast. It represents the wish to finally give peace to the souls of the dead. All around Hiroshima, we noticed people leave bottles of water at memorials—small, touching gestures that feel deeply human.

We continued to the Peace Memorial Hall, where a 360° panoramic engraving recreated the destroyed city using 140,000 tiles—one for each life lost. The real number is likely higher, but exact figures are impossible due to the complete obliteration of records and bodies, there are still posters asking for information on some missing people presumed dead.

From there, we saw the cenotaph and the Flame of Peace, lit from a Buddhist monastery fire that has been burning for centuries. The flame will remain lit until nuclear weapons are eradicated—an act of both hope and quiet defiance.

One of the most emotional sites was the Children’s Peace Monument, dedicated to a young girl who initially survived the bomb but later died of leukaemia. She believed in the old tale that if you folded 1,000 paper cranes, your wish would be granted. Despite completing the cranes, she passed away, and now schools across Japan send paper cranes each year in her memory.

We also saw the burial mound of ashes, which holds the remains of tens of thousands of unidentified victims—heartbreakingly high and solemnly still. As well as the bell of peace.

Our final stop was the iconic Atomic Bomb Dome. One of the few buildings left standing after the blast, it has been preserved in its damaged state and declared a UNESCO World Heritage site. Supported only by minimal structural reinforcement, it’s a haunting and essential reminder of what once happened here.

After the tour, we went for lunch at an okonomiyaki restaurant and shared a pancake and some soba noodles. It wasn’t quite as good as the one in Osaka, but still comforting and tasty. For dessert, I treated myself to my favourite 7-Eleven combo: strawberry milk and a custard doughnut. With only a few days left, I wanted to savour all the little things I’d come to love.

In the afternoon, we visited Hiroshima Castle. Structurally, it was similar to the others we’d seen on the trip, though this one had a clever second moat with a collapsible outer wall—designed to flood incoming attackers. There was also a samurai sword to try lifting (way heavier than it looks!) and a samurai helmet to try on (as heavy as expected).

That evening we had one final katsu curry—Grace’s favourite—ending the day the way all good days in Japan should end: full and content.

Unfortunately, our last full day in Japan was a rainy one, and since we’d done nearly every other indoor activity, we booked ourselves in for something a bit different: archery.We turned up completely soaked to a tiny indoor range, where we were taught traditional Japanese horseback archery. It’s quite different from Western-style archery—complete with special gloves, fancy outfits, and a very particular stance and technique. To draw the bow, you make an “OK” symbol with your hand and follow a multi-step process. It was much harder than we expected, and just as we thought we were getting the hang of it, we’d completely miss the target again.

I hit the target first, but Grace quickly caught up and overtook me. By the final round, the score was 8–4 in her favour. We were both missing far more than we were hitting, so it’s safe to say we won’t be winning any medals anytime soon!

After that we perused some shops, mostly to get out of the rain, I brought some sake for Adam and we both bought and sent our last postcards of the trip before heading back to the hotel.

The final afternoon was a bit of a washout—literally. We’d hoped to spend the afternoon walking on a nearby island or exploring a canyon trail, but the rain put a dampener on that plan. Instead, we took it as a sign to slow down, pack our bags, and mentally prepare for the mammoth journey home.

We had, however, saved one last special treat for the evening: dinner at a fancy teppanyaki restaurant, the kind where the chef cooks everything in front of you on a sizzling metal grill. It was a small and intimate spot, with only ten seats at the counter, which made the whole experience feel quite exclusive. Unsure what to order, we went with the chef’s choice set menu—eight courses and unlimited drinks for just £55 each. And honestly? It was an absolute steal.

The meal was spectacular—dish after dish of beautifully prepared food, each more delicious than the last. The wagyu beef with red wine sauce might just be one of the best things I’ve ever eaten. It was so good, in fact, that we cheekily ordered an extra round of it, which only added £10 to the bill. Worth every penny.

Here’s what we had:

  • Crab and salmon roe salad
  • Thinly sliced raw fish sprinkled with gold
  • Buttered asparagus with a rich aubergine sauce
  • Grilled lobster
  • Wagyu steak with red wine sauce
  • Fresh sushi
  • Miso and clam soup
  • Another round of Wagyu
  • Dessert: a thick pancake topped with syrup and ice cream

All accompanied by a very generous amount of red, white, and plum wine, paired to match the different courses. Nine dishes, five drinks, and a cooking show—all for £65 each. Unbelievable value, and the perfect note to end the trip on.

There was a moment (several glasses in) where we briefly considered one final karaoke night as a last hurrah—but thankfully, good sense prevailed.

When our alarms went off at 6:30am the next morning, we were extremely relieved not to be nursing hangovers while attempting to navigate Japan’s public transport system.And so, the long journey home began: bullet train to Osaka, a maze of underground transfers, two long-haul flights with a stopover, and finally, multiple trains from London to Cambridge… on a bank holiday, no less. Wish me luck! But honestly, despite the daunting trek ahead, I wouldn’t trade this trip for anything. It’s been an incredible three-and-a-bit months—packed with adventures, new experiences, and probably a few too many snacks. We’ve seen so much, done so much, and maybe spent a bit too much, but it’s been completely worth it.

So that’s it from me… for now. Until the next adventure—I’ll tell you all about it then.

Love, Alice x

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Osaka, Japan

After a leisurely morning in Kyoto, we boarded a short train ride to Osaka and arrived at our final hostel of the trip—and it was, without a doubt, the quirkiest one yet. Tucked inside what seemed to be a regular thin three story house, every room had been filled with bunk beds and every available surface was dedicated to… tomatoes. Tomato posters, tomato t-shirts, and even an entire room packed with tomato-themed trinkets. Slightly cultish vibes, but at £15 per person per night—compared to the usual £60–70 price tags—we decided we could embrace the tomato madness.

With nothing pressing on our itinerary, we headed into Osaka’s bustling centre for a wander. The city was buzzing. It felt like rush hour on a random Monday afternoon, and even the trains were jam-packed. Undeterred, we squeezed our way into the famous Kuromon market area and found ourselves on *Kitchen Street—a dream for anyone even vaguely interested in cooking. There were stalls selling every kitchen gadget imaginable, from sashimi tweezers to blowtorches. I fell in love with some beautifully painted bowls and plates but heartbreakingly left them behind, knowing they’d never survive the journey home intact. I did, however, after much browsing and polite nodding through different shops, buy a Gyuto knife—a high-quality Japanese chef’s knife that’s a great all-rounder in the kitchen. A solid gift for Adam (can’t promise I won’t also occasionally use it myself!).

Feeling peckish, we stopped for a very late lunch/early dinner of teriyaki beef bowls—tender, sweet, and savoury all at once. Then we treated ourselves to some gorgeous-looking doughnuts we’d spotted by the station.

Luckily, we’re still clocking in 20,000+ steps a day to offset all the snacking!

The next day was a scorcher—28°C—so we got an early start and picked up breakfast from a local bakery on our way to Osaka Castle. I decided to brave the kare-pan (curry doughnut), a savoury deep-fried bun filled with mildly spiced curry. Definitely not your typical breakfast pastry, but surprisingly tasty.

Osaka Castle was just as busy as expected. We spent a while exploring the outer grounds before joining a long queue to get inside. From the outside, the castle is a stunner—towering, ornate, and layered in gold accents. But step inside and you’re suddenly in what feels like a 1980s office block: grey concrete staircases, metal handrails, fluorescent lights. Not exactly the ancient wooden halls we’d pictured, but practical given the crowds. Inside were multiple floors of exhibitions, mostly focused on the Siege of Osaka (1614–1615), a pivotal conflict during the unification of Japan. I found it all especially fascinating because I’d been watching a docudrama on exactly this period, so seeing the castle in real life felt like stepping onto the set.

After our history fix, we hopped on a train to our second destination of the day: Osaka Aquarium Kaiyukan. When it opened in 1990, it was the largest aquarium in the world, and though it’s since been surpassed, it’s still massive. The building’s layout is clever—you spiral downward through themed zones based on the “Ring of Fire” ecosystems of the Pacific ocean. At the top of each tank, you’ll see surface-dwelling animals like otters, penguins, and sea lions. As you descend, you follow the same tanks downward and meet the deeper-dwelling species—sharks, rays, deep-sea fish. One of the largest tanks even had whale sharks, manta rays, and hammerheads. It was stunning.

The only downside was the dolphin enclosure—it felt a bit cramped. But there were signs everywhere saying they’re actively expanding and enriching habitats, which gave us some hope. There was also a powerful exhibition on ocean pollution and coral reef destruction, with a live coral-growing display that was both beautiful and sobering.

After an afternoon surrounded by sea creatures, there was really only one option for dinner: sushi. I appreciate fish in all forms!

The next morning we’d signed ourselves up for a walking tour, though we quickly realised that Osaka’s tourist circuit is a little… limited. We ended up retracing much of what we’d already explored the day before, including Kitchen Street and the same cluster of souvenir shops. But this time, our guide added a few helpful insights that made us see things in a new light. For instance, he pointed out all the capsule toy machines and pachinko gambling parlours we’d previously walked past without a second thought. Suddenly, we started spotting them everywhere—tucked between shops, around corners, above cafes. And they were all full of suited-up businessmen, frantically pressing buttons and pulling levers, even though it was only 11 in the morning.

Still, the tour wasn’t without its hidden gems. One of the coolest spots we visited was a narrow, lantern-lit alleyway tucked between two modern buildings. It was dark, slightly smoky, and had a quiet, lived-in charm. Our guide told us this was what much of Osaka looked like before World War II. Almost everything else had been flattened by bombing, but this tiny street had somehow survived—a shadow of the old city.

We also visited a shrine, one of the very few in Osaka that wasn’t destroyed during the war. The grounds were peaceful, and the most memorable part was the trio of moss-covered statues. After the usual Shinto cleansing ritual (washing hands and mouth at the water basin), we were told to scoop more water and pour it three times over the part of the large statue’s body that corresponds to any ailments or health concerns we had. I figured I’d give my stomach a little extra attention—just in case the mysterious parasite from the Philippines hadn’t quite moved out yet. Then we poured water over the heads of the two smaller statues as a sign of respect and purification. A simple but lovely ritual.

The tour also cleared up one mystery we’d been quietly wondering about—why everyone kept posing for photos on the bridge in front of a specific billboard. It turns out it’s one of Japan’s most iconic adverts—a long-running campaign for a popular children’s sweet featuring a running man in a victory pose. It’s so ingrained in Japanese pop culture it’s basically their version of the 118 118 runners. Of course, we had to join in the fun and strike a pose in front of it ourselves.

The real highlight of the day, though, was putting our guide’s local knowledge to good use. We’d been wanting to try yakisoba (fried noodles) and okonomiyaki (a savoury pancake filled with cabbage, meat, and sometimes seafood), and he recommended the perfect spot. It was one of those classic no-frills places where the food is cooked right in front of you on a sizzling hotplate. The okonomiyaki was thick and fluffy, topped with tangy sauce and mayonnaise. The yakisoba was just as good—flavourful, smoky, and surprisingly moreish. We instantly regretted not discovering the dishes earlier in the trip!

With a few hours still to kill, we rounded off the afternoon with some final souvenir shopping. I picked up a set of decorative chopsticks and a tiny waving maneki-neko cat figurine for my brother, plus a selection of the ever-weird and wonderful Japanese KitKats—matcha, strawberry, even purple sweet potato.

Then, on a bit of a whim, we decided to get our nails done. Since I always keep mine short for netball, I’d been excited to finally grow them out a bit—but the first thing the nail technician did was snip them right down to stubs. So much for my glamorous new look—I now resemble someone with a very enthusiastic nail-biting habit. Still, if an emergency netball match were to break out in Japan, at least I’d be ready!

With our nails done (albeit unintentionally minimalist), we picked up our shinkansen bullet trqin tickets for the final stop on this unforgettable trip—Hiroshima.

I’ll tell you all about it soon.

Love, Alice x

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Kyoto, Japan

After we had arrived and checked into the hostel we instantly bee-lined straight back to the conveyor-belt sushi place we’d spotted by the station. Unlike the tablet-ordering joints we’d been to before, this one was culinary roulette: the chefs loaded every kind of roll, nigiri, and seaweed-wrapped mystery onto the belt, and you just grabbed whatever happened to cruise past that took your fancy.

This meant I discovered a new surprise hit, a “clam salad” gunkan—slices of clam, avocado, and onion perched on rice and wrapped in seaweed. Plate colour set the price: big slabs of fish (sashimi and nigiri) cost more, veggie-heavy creations less. Conveniently, always a cheap date, my taste buds favoured the 75-pence plates, so I feasted until I was blissfully immobile and still spent only a tenner, drink included.

Grace, meanwhile, discovered the belt’s non- raw fish quota was… minimal. After two tempura prawns and a sweet-corn maki she was still peckish, so we detoured to the bakery next door. She stocked up; I squeezed in a carrot cake because, frankly, it felt like the perfect end to a lovely meal—even if conventional wisdom frowns on eating your entire calorie allowance in one sitting.

Post-feast we hurried back to the hostel for a quick unpack-and-shower turnaround, then set off for an evening walking tour of Shijō Keihan-mae, one of Kyoto’s storied geisha districts. An intro to geisha life. Contrary to Hollywood myth, geisha are neither courtesans nor relics of the past; they’re highly trained performing artists whose craft blends traditional dance, shamisen music, calligraphy, tea ceremony, casual witty conversation, and an encyclopaedic knowledge of seasonal etiquette. Girls who aspire to the profession usually enter an okiya (geisha house) around sixteen. Their first year is spent as shikomi—essentially live-in assistants learning Kyoto dialect, bow-until-your-spine-aches etiquette, and how to walk in the heels without knocking anything over, a feat I’ve yet to master! If they survive that boot camp, they become maiko (apprentices) and swap school uniforms for elaborate silk kimono, six-inch wooden okobo clogs, and iconic floral hairpins. Maiko shadow senior geiko (Kyoto’s word for geisha) to banquets, practising dance for hours daily and memorising hundreds of traditional songs. After roughly five gruelling years—and one symbolic tooth-blackening ceremony—they “turn the collar” to become full-fledged geiko, finally earning their own wages and a slightly less back-breaking kimono. Most live in the same neighbourhoods where they work; Kyoto still has five official hanamachi (flower towns), each with its own theatre, tea-houses, and resturants.

Because maiko and geiko are booked out months in advance by discerning clients, they usually sprint between engagements or call a taxi to dodge paparazzi tourists. That’s why catching a glimpse of two maiko gliding past us in full regalia felt like huge luck. Our guide pointed out hidden teahouse entrances and tiny wooden name plaques listing the resident geiko of each okiya. We also popped into hushed Shintō shrines where performers pray for nimble fingers and blister-free heels.

Along the lantern-lit lanes we also heard the origin story of kabuki theatre. It was founded in 1603 by a boundary-pushing woman named Izumo no Okuni who created cross dressing theatre —until officials decided theatre was “unsuitable” for women and banned them from the stage. Even today all the performers are men. Geisha culture, by contrast, weathered that sexist storm and still thrives—though today’s ranks are far smaller (about 200 geiko and 70 maiko in Kyoto). All in all a very interesting tour.

The next morning, we’d booked a “traditional” tea ceremony in an old tea shop that now mainly hosts tourists. It didn’t feel super traditional—there was a PowerPoint, for starters—but it was really interesting. They showed us how the tea’s prepped, how the bell rings in a specific way to kick things off, and all the little customs for pouring and receiving. We sipped matcha from big bowl-like cups (Mum would approve). It was pretty bitter, but the pretty pink bean-paste sweets they handed out took the edge off.

Post-matcha, the host handed us calligraphy brushes so we could attempt our names in kanji—and then kindly supplied the simpler, phonetic kana when our strokes started looking like suspicious wobbly spiders. A surprisingly fun way to spend a morning.

Once we wrapped that up, we hit a yakitori spot the tea ladies recommended. We’d been dying to try those grilled meat skewers, and yep, they were worth the wait.

Re-fueled, we wandered the local market hunting souvenirs and emerged triumphant with “his-and-hers” lightweight summer kimono for us and the boyfriends—basically the fanciest dressing gowns our washing machines will ever see.

Back at the hostel we showered, then headed out for our evening reservation at Macho Bar. Picture a tiny bar where every staff member is a bodybuilder and literally everyone—guys, girls, 6-foot giants—gets carried to their seat. Each drink came with a mini muscle show; my pineapple cocktail was squeezed tableside while we were encouraged (okay, forced) to poke biceps. I spent half the night bright-red from embarrassment, but watching hulking dudes get princess-carried by guys half their size was hilarious. Once we’d hit our personal limit for public blushing, and heard enough shouts of “LOOK AT MY MUSCLES—SO BIG!” (now mine and Grace’s favorite catchphrase), we bailed for a small bar someone in Tokyo had recommend.

That place was great too—we met four American siblings from New York, chatted, danced, and then Grace (yes, karaoke-hating Grace!) dragged us all to a karaoke bar. Three months in Asia will do that to a girl. It was an awesome night… though we definitely felt it the next morning!

Feeling a bit rough around the edges, we dragged ourselves out for another walking tour the next morning. It started on a pretty sour note—while the guide was giving the intro, some creep in a business suit groped Grace and bolted before we could react. Absolutely vile, but we tried not to let it ruin the day.

Things improved once we reached the Kamo River. Our guide explained how locals have reshaped its course over the centuries, dredging and straightening to control floods and create gentle banks. Every summer, restaurants along the water build wooden decks (called noryō-yuka) that hover above the river’s cool evaporative breeze—perfect natural air-con. They’re dismantled each winter so the planks don’t crack under frost or spring floods.

Next stop: Chion-in Buddhist temple, headquarters of the Jōdo sect—the “Buddhism Lite” the samurai preferred because it skips awkward prohibitions on meat, booze, and, well, killing. The buildings are enormous Lego sets of interlocking cedar, no nails required, and the surrounding gardens are beautiful and full of couples in traditional clothing having photoshoots.

We visited a samori statue and our guide painted a vivid story of how the samori were split during a civil war between the last shogun and the emperor and it ended of course in bloodshed. We continued to Hōkan-ji, a temple covered with bright prayer balls, and finished the tour at Yasaka’s five-storey pagoda that photobombs half the postcards in town. The streets here were packed all the way up to it and trying to avoid the crowds on the way down we discovered a back route through a cemetery which was actually pretty interesting to stroll through and conveniently even had a vending machine with some water. Japan really does put vending machines everywhere and anywhere even graveyards!

After three hours of walking hungover in 28°c heat we were a little worse for ware. We staggered into a café to refuel. Grace chose a “dry curry,” Japan’s wholesome remix of an Indian keema curry—same aromatics, but the sauce is replaced by finely diced veggies. My stomach mutinied at the thought of spice, so I played it safe with a chicken-salad sarnie.

Restored, we trained south to Fushimi Inari’s Senbon Torii—the “Path of a Thousand Gates.” At the base it’s selfie chaos, but after ten minutes of climbing the crowd thins dramatically. It’s beautiful and enjoying the shade we trekked until the slope turned too steep, deciding 25,000 steps was plenty for the day, and went in search of a ramen dinner.

We decided against getting a large ramen, turned out to be a good decision, even the “regular” bowls were roughly the size of a birdbath—bloody tasty though.

The next day was a travel day but as Osaka is only an hour away, we treated ourselves to a lie-in, checked out, stashed our packs, and prowled the nearby market for breakfast. Ended up in a trippy 2-D café where everything, walls, floors, and furniture are painted like comic-book sketches. Very cool.

After a chill morning we collected bags and hopped the train to Osaka.

Tell you all about it soon. Love, Alice x

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Takayama and Shirakawa, Japan

After a scenic bus ride through winding mountain roads, we arrived in Takayama—our next stop another charming town, full of beautifully preserved traditional buildings.

First priority: food. We wandered through the old streets, letting our noses lead the way, and the first thing to catch our attention was the smell of sizzling wagyu beef. We couldn’t resist. For £2.50, we got a tiny skewer of A5 wagyu—not much more than a single mouthful, but it was bloody delicious. After that little treat, we went looking for something a bit more substantial (and budget-friendly) and found a lovely local bakery. I had a round of bread topped with cheese, leek, and onion, while Grace had a crusty roll filled with potato and cheese. Both hit the spot.

Since we’re now down to our last ten days in Japan, we’re making the most of every treat—so next up was ice cream. We’d seen this particular brand advertised all over, first in South Korea and now in Japan, so our hopes were high—and it didn’t disappoint. The ice cream was amazing, and even the cone was good enough to eat on its own, like a crisp sugar-snap biscuit. It was quite brittle, though, and poor Graces collapsed and dropped her ice-cream halfway through! But it was so good that neither of us wanted to share the rest of mine, so she simply bought another.

Fuelled by sugar and dairy, we headed off to explore the town. Most of the old buildings in the centre have now been converted into shops, so we had a leisurely browse and picked up a few souvenirs. Grace bought some beautiful hand-painted porcelain coasters, and I picked up a pair of chopsticks and a small porcelain crane in an origami-style design for my travel shelf. Shopped out, we followed a walking trail through the surrounding area, which led us past more traditional houses and a few quiet Shinto shrines. At one of them, we were tempted by the amusing protection charms, but decided we should probably save our precious bag space for more practical gifts. Instead, we bought some fish food and spent a while feeding the resident carp.

We headed back to the hostel in the early evening for a quick sit-down… which turned into an accidental nap. By the time we woke up and got ready to go out for dinner, most places had already finished serving or were sold out. Thankfully, a kind woman at a Tex-Mex place said she could still feed us—as long as we were happy with burgers, because that’s all she had left. No complaints here—at least we got fed!

The next morning, we were up early to catch the first bus to the nearby village of Shirakawa-go, a UNESCO World Heritage site famous for its thatched-roof farmhouses, rivers, and green fields, all set against a dramatic backdrop of snow-capped mountains. It really was picture-perfect.

What we hadn’t realised, however, was just how small the village actually is. You can easily walk around the whole thing in about half an hour—maybe an hour if you dawdle. Unfortunately for us, our return bus wasn’t for another seven hours.

So, we made the most of it. We walked every path, twice. Visited every shop, every shrine. Took a little detour to a hilltop observatory for panoramic views. We even explored the village museum. Then we stretched out a very long lunch of Hilda beef noodles, followed by an extended stay at a tea and ice cream café. And still, two more hours to go!

At the time of writing, we’re sitting on some grass by a river next to a car park. At least it’s a scenic car park, and the weather’s lovely. Hopefully our next stop, Kyoto will be have a bit more happening! I’ll let you know all about it soon, love Alice x

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Matsumoto, Japan

It took three trains to get to our next stop, Matsumoto—including a trip back to Tokyo before we could catch the express heading out again. Not the most efficient route, but we got there in the end… just with a minor ticketing mishap along the way. We thought just tapping into the platform with our travel cards was enough to cover the journey, but a ticket inspector gently informed us otherwise. Thankfully, he took pity on our confused faces and let us buy tickets on the train. He even helped us find two seats together—what a star! We still had to tap out at the other end, where we were charged £15—the same as we’d just paid him—so who knows if we got it right in the end. All that mattered was we’d made it safely and with all our luggage.

By the time we arrived and checked in, it was already 3 p.m., and in the flurry of platform changes and rushing for trains, we’d somehow gone the whole day without eating. We were ravenous. The only place open was a Nepalese “Pan-Asian” restaurant, so that’s how we ended up ordering Indian curry from a Nepalese man, in Japanese. A truly global dining experience! Thankfully, despite the cultural curveball, the food was delicious and much-needed.

Once we’d refuelled, we walked over to the main draw of the town: Matsumoto Castle. And unlike some of the more modest castles we’ve seen, this one really looked the part. Towering, dramatic, and jet-black against the blue sky, it’s nicknamed the “Crow Castle” for good reason. Surrounded by a wide moat and set against a backdrop of distant mountains, it looked like something straight out of a samurai film. We had a lovely slow wander around the outer gardens in the afternoon sun before heading inside.

Built in the late 1500s during the Sengoku “warring states” period, where there were almost constant civil wars, Matsumoto Castle is one of Japan’s few original castles—meaning it’s not a modern reconstruction like so many others. Its main keep has stood for over 400 years, surviving battles, earthquakes, and even a few attempted demolitions (locals thankfully protested those!). It was designed as a stronghold and symbol of feudal power, with all the defensive features you’d expect: arrow slits, murder holes, steep stairs to slow down attackers, and cleverly placed openings for dropping stones or boiling water.Inside, we climbed floor after floor on steep wooden staircases—practically ladders in places—and discovered how each level served a different purpose. There were familiar sights like the narrow windows for archers and gunmen, but also some new-to-us spaces like a floor for storing rice (to sustain defenders during a siege), and a watchtower nicknamed the “crow’s nest” where war councils were held. It was equal parts fortress and time capsule, and we really enjoyed taking our time exploring it all.

After the castle, we wandered down the riverside near our hostel, past rows of little touristy shops filled with the most tempting ceramics—tiny soy sauce bowls, elegant chopstick rests, all so beautifully made and delicate. The kind of things that would probably live in a cupboard untouched back home, but still felt impossible to walk past without sighing over. Sadly, our bags are already pushing their limits, so we resisted… for now.

Instead, we treated ourselves to some cold drinks and a slice of carrot cake, which we shared while sitting by the river in the sun, writing postcards and soaking up the peaceful atmosphere. A lovely, calm afternoon after the train chaos—and a perfect reminder of why slower towns like Matsumoto are such gems.

Our second day in Matsumoto didn’t quite go to plan. We’d hoped to visit a nearby wasabi farm in the morning and then head to the old post town of Narai-juku in the afternoon. Turns out both of those are much better accessed by car. The wasabi farm was only a 30-minute drive away, but over two hours by public transport and more than £120 by taxi—so we decided to skip it and go straight to Narai-juku instead.

Narai-juku is one of the best-preserved Edo-period post towns, once a key stop for travellers journeying along the Nakasendo Trail between Kyoto and Tokyo. We were excited to visit, but when we checked train times we saw the next one wasn’t until midday. No problem—we took it as a sign to slow down a little, had a relaxed morning, enjoyed some delicious bagels for breakfast, and pottered around the shops, local shrine and riverside in the warm sunshine.

At around 11:30 we headed to the station, bought £15 return tickets to Narai-juku, and settled in to wait. But while looking at the tickets, we noticed the return was dated for the following day. A quick check revealed there were no trains back from Narai that afternoon, and once again a taxi would have cost over £120 for the return—despite it being less than an hour’s drive away. So, in the end, we didn’t get on the train. A shame, but at least we realised before we ended up stranded!

With zero out of two of our original plans working out, we scrambled for alternatives. A quick Google search turned up something unexpected: Matsumoto is actually the hometown of Yayoi Kusama, the world-renowned avant-garde artist known for her bold dots and surreal installations. So off we went to the local art gallery, which had several of her pieces on display—including one of her famous pumpkins—as well as work by other artists, including a brilliant exhibition featuring local artists all over 80. Very cool and wonderfully weird.

After the gallery, we headed to an “observation deck”—a slightly misleading name, as it turned out to be the rooftop of an office building. But the views were worth the climb: sweeping cityscapes with the mountains rising behind them, all bathed in sunshine. From there, we walked to the bus station to sort out our travel for the next day—lucky we did, as nearly every ticket was sold out. We just managed to snag two spots on the 7:30am bus. An early start for sure!

We made our way back to the old shopping street where I tried some of the region’s famous Takoyaki—octopus balls lightly fried to give a crisp shell and gooey centre, filled with octopus, pickled ginger, and green onions. Surprisingly tasty. Grace wasn’t quite as tempted and instead went for a raspberry and coriander ice cream, which she said was strangely savoury but still good. We browsed a few more little shops and then sat in the sun with cool drinks doing some trip planning. Not a high-energy day, but very pleasant in the sunshine.

For dinner, we found ourselves drawn back to the Nepalese restaurant from the day before—it’s Grace’s favourite, and I owed her after dragging her to sushi several times. The delicious smell wafts all the way down the street and our willpower only goes so far. This time we tried momo dumplings in a curried soup—a Nepalese dish that was new to both of us. Not Japanese, but at least we were still being adventurous!

We ended up chatting with two lovely retired English women at the table next to us. They were travelling together and we had a good laugh about how the smell of the curry seemed to attract every Brit in town. We stayed talking until the restaurant closed and gently nudged us out. A really nice final evening in Matsumoto before our early start tomorrow.

Next stop: Takayama. Will tell you all about it when we get there!

Love, Alice x

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Hakone, Japan

Our next stop was about two hours northwest of Tokyo by train, to the hilly little town of Hakone—famous for its hot springs, mountain air, and if the weather’s kind, glorious views of Mount Fuji. We arrived around midday, grabbed a quick bite, and headed off to explore nearby Odawara Castle. “Castle” might be generous—it looked more like an elegant, oversized house—but it came with moats and a video explaining all the clever medieval tricks they used to keep invading armies out. Apparently, those pretty gardens were actually tactical traps, and the chunky doors weren’t just for dramatic entrances…

There were some were some volunteers in front of the castle fighting with swords but I’m not sure how authentic their attire was. Luckily there was also a fun exhibition on samurai armour inside, showing how it really looked and how it evolved over the centuries—some of it genuinely quite intimidating! I also got to stick my head into a cut-out to see what I’d look like as a samurai. I must say, the results were… Slightly less intimidating than the real thing. All in all, not a bad way to spend a drizzly afternoon.

Dinner was simple but satisfying: some crispy gyozas, juicy wontons, and edamame beans. A very respectable trio to round out the day.

The next morning, we had a whole day in Hakone and were determined to squeeze every drop out of it. We kicked things off early by hopping on the switchback train up Mount Hakone. It’s an adorable little train that zigzags up the mountain, switching direction each time it gets too steep. Very scenic, very charming.

At the top, we wandered into the Hakone Open-Air Museum, and luckily the sun was out for us today. The whole place is a sculpture park filled with strange and wonderful artworks, including a stained glass viewing tower, a colourful underground maze (which I wisely let Grace attempt solo—I get lost on straight roads), and many beautiful and strange sculptures. There was also a Picasso exhibition to wander around. It was a brilliant morning topped off with an ice cream in the sunshine with our feet dipped in a warm river—because we are on holiday, after all.

Then it was on to the Hakone Ropeway—a cable car that whisked us higher up the mountain to Owakudani, a dramatic volcanic valley that smells aggressively like rotten eggs with steaming vents and bubbling pools, and best of all, it redeeming feature, a spectacular view of Mount Fuji. And yes, we took about 500 photos of it from every angle. None of them do it justice though!

Once we managed to tear ourselves away from Fuji-viewing, we rode the ropeway down the other side of the mountain to Lake Ashi. Along the way we passed a huge traffic jam snaking up to Owakudani and smugly congratulated ourselves for taking the cable car.

We stopped for a late lunch at a restaurant by the lake that smelled incredible—and it didn’t disappoint. Their specialty was some kind of mystery pork schnitzel in a delicious red sauce. Possibly Japanese, possibly German—we may never know. Either way, it was enormous and extremely tasty. Our next stop was meant to be the famous Hakone-jinja Shrine, which is over a thousand years old and traditionally brings good luck to travellers. In hindsight, maybe we should’ve started our day there… because our luck was about to run out. We got on a bus that looked right, was at the right place at the right time—but was actually going in completely the wrong direction. Back up the mountain. Into the very same traffic jam we’d felt so smug about earlier. Cue two hours on a bus crawling along a mountain road with no chance of escape. We never made it to the shrine, so that’s officially been added to the “Japan round two” list.

We did manage to redeem the day slightly with a visit to an onsen on the way home—our first one in Japan, and boy was it an experience. This one busier than in Taiwan, here we could follow the locals lead on when to get naked. Always a fine line between confidence and catastrophe when you’re not sure which locker is for shoes before walking through communal areas and which are for clothes right before the onsen.

We followed the local women’s lead, stripped down, and sat on little plastic stools scrubbing ourselves clean. Then, tiny towels on heads (for reasons still unknown to us), we wandered out into the garden and picked our hot (or freezing) pool of choice. Once you get over the initial “ah yes, I’m naked with strangers” moment, it’s actually lovely. And kind of freeing sitting around relaxing with women of all ages. Plus, we both agreed it’s probably good for younger girls to see what real bodies look like—far more uplifting than the plastic surgery billboards we saw plastered all over Korea.

Afterwards, there was the mildly surreal experience of sitting fully dressed on a train next to people we’d just been naked with, but you get used to it. We skipped dinner—we were still full of mystery schnitzel—and grabbed some of Japan’s seasonal strawberries instead, which are honestly so sweet and delicious.

Then it was time to head back to the hostel and start packing for another travel day. Next stop: Matsumoto.

More adventures (and probably more gyozas) coming soon!

Love, Alice x

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Tokyo, Japan

We’ve arrived in the fifth and final country of our backpacking trip—Japan!

Our plane landed around 4 p.m., and after a smooth hour-long train ride, we arrived at our hostel. I didn’t even finish unpacking before I was laser-focused on one thing: sushi. My one true love (sorry family and Adam). And where better to indulge than the birthplace of the stuff?

We asked at reception for a recommendation and were soon joined by two 18-year-old Swedish lads from our dorm—Otto and Oscar—who asked if they could tag along. The more, the merrier. So, the four of us headed to a sushi restaurant about a 15-minute walk away.

We had to queue for 40 minutes to get in, but it was worth it.

Once inside, the whole experience was delightfully dystopian—no human staff in sight. You order from a tablet, and your sushi whooshes in on a conveyor belt like some kind of edible monorail. Futuristic and delicious.

I ordered several rounds of different sushi like a woman possessed, while Grace opted for chicken and chips (sacrilege) but also dipped her toe into some seaweed-free sushi options. We even finished off with some chocolate cake because dessert sushi isn’t (yet) a thing. The Swedish teens, meanwhile, went full “growing-boy buffet” mode, racking up towers of plates like sushi Jenga, made me look like a rookie. They even tried some rogue options—omelette sushi, burger sushi… sushi crimes, basically.

I was a bit nervous about the bill—Sushi is pricey in the UK, and we’d eaten enough to sink a small boat. Plus, my mental exchange rate was still stuck somewhere between “it’s fine” and “are we about to accidentally spend £200?” But Japan came through: two courses, drinks, and enough sushi to require rolling us out the door—just £11 each. In the UK, that would’ve cost about £60!

After we waved off the Swedish lads (who were headed home to recover from their raw-fish-induced food comas), Grace and I made our way to Shinjuku’s Golden Gai—an area filled with narrow alleyways packed with micro-bars, each only big enough to seat 3 to 6 people. Every bar has its own quirky vibe, and the whole premise is: squeeze in, order a drink, and make friends with whoever’s next to you. Social roulette, Tokyo-style.

We had planned to meet up with Elliot, a guy we’d met at our first stop—Port Barton in the Philippines. He was also in Tokyo with some friends from home. Unfortunately, Elliot wasn’t feeling great and went home before we arrived, but we still met up with his friends, Jess and Scott, and had a fun night drinking beer and plum wine in various tiny bars around town. A very unique and memorable night out.

The next morning, we had signed up for a walking tour, but it was cancelled because the guide was ill. We signed up for the afternoon tour instead and spent the morning walking around town and finally purchasing our rail passes. We had planned to go to a noodle restaurant near the start of the tour for lunch, but when we got there, we found out it’s closed on Wednesdays. So, we decided to wait until after the tour to eat, but we still had 40 minutes to kill.

While walking, we spotted signs for “Harry’s Otter Café” and decided to check it out. We paid our entry and went in—it was a strange mix between a café and a pet shop. There were owls off to one side, hedgehogs in trays on tables, a meerkat roaming around, and a playpen filled with otters, with more in enclosures around the room and in clear tubs of water. We had paid to feed the otters, which also meant we could sit in the pen with them. They were like big puppies—very eager for treats and attention. Their little hands are surprisingly dexterous; one even sat for a while just holding my hand. It was an adorable and fascinating experience.However, in hindsight, it’s not one I’d want to repeat. We hadn’t really researched the café properly—we just wandered in—and while it was undeniably cute, it didn’t exactly scream “ethical animal care.” A staff member even woke up a hedgehog mid-nap, plonked it in my hand, and the poor guy promptly bit me in protest. Can’t blame him, really. Thankfully it didn’t break the skin—because nothing says “holiday fun” like googling rabies clinics in Tokyo.

We didn’t stay long and waited outside for our walking tour to begin. Our guide turned out to be a man originally from Ecuador who had moved to Japan three years ago for his German wife’s job. He was a nice guy, but the tour itself didn’t tell us much more than we could’ve learned by walking around ourselves. Still, we got to see Sensō-ji Temple and the surrounding markets, as well as the kitchenware district where they sell beautiful bowls, utensils, and Japan’s famous knives. Many restaurants in Japan (and across Asia) display plastic models of their dishes, and we also visited a shop that makes these hyper realistic models, which was pretty cool.

After the tour, we browsed some of the knife shops and debated whether the hassle of carrying one around for a month was worth it as a gift. Then we discovered we could buy them at our last stop in Japan too, so we decided to wait. We followed our noses to a nearby gyoza spot for a very late lunch/pre-dinner snack. The dumplings were delicious—I definitely could’ve eaten more, but we had dinner plans with Jess from the night before, so we kept it light.

We went back to the hostel, showered, and headed out to meet Jess for dinner. The restaurant was right off of the famous Shibuya Crossing, the busiest pedestrian crossing in the world, at peak times there are over three thousand people crossing simultaneously from all directions at once. Luckily we made it through the crowds and to the restaurant unscathed.

Tonight’s meal was ramen—a noodle soup. We all chose different options: I had roast beef in a clear broth, Grace had chicken in the same, and Jess had beef in a creamy broth. All were really tasty! We had planned to meet up with Elliot and Scott again after dinner for drinks, but we ended up having a bit of a family emergency and headed back to the hostel to stay in contact with family. Thankfully, everything got sorted and everyone was okay, but after all the stress, we decided to call it an early night.

The next morning, we headed over to the Imperial Palace. Most of the original palace buildings were destroyed during WWII, but it’s still the main residence of Japan’s Emperor today, and the grounds are open to the public. We spent the morning wandering through the beautiful East Gardens, which are part of what used to be Edo Castle—home of the Tokugawa shogunate for over 260 years. Most of the buildings that weren’t destroyed in the war are more modern, but we got to see the enormous stone foundations where the guard towers once stood. Just the bases were huge—I can’t imagine how tall the towers must have been.

Afterwards, we made our way to the Tsukiji Outer Market, a lively food market that grew around the historic Tsukiji Fish Market. The original fish auctions, including the famous giant tuna ones, have since moved to Toyosu, but the outer market is still buzzing with street food stalls, shops and fresh produce. We were saving our sushi appetite for the evening—we had a booking at a tiny sushi bar with a legendary chef—so we managed to resist all the fresh seafood (which, frankly, felt like an Olympic-level achievement). But we *did* splash out £5 on some ridiculously posh strawberries. And oh wow—they were worth every penny. Juicy, sweet and perfectly ripe, it felt like biting into sunshine.

Still on a strawberry high, we decided to share a strawberry parfait. It was so good that we immediately regretted not getting one each. Lesson learned: never underestimate how much strawberry dessert is *enough* strawberry dessert.

In the afternoon, we had tickets to TeamLab Borderless, an interactive digital art exhibit that’s super popular in Tokyo. We hadn’t managed to get into their main location, but the smaller exhibition was still amazing. The whole place is made up of different rooms filled with immersive projections, mirrors, smoke, lights and sound. One room was like walking through a glowing LED forest, another had giant floating spheres you could push around, and in one you could draw your own sea creature and watch it join a virtual aquarium on the wall. It was all very trippy and surprisingly fun, and the fact that the artwork moved and responded to you made it feel more like a playground than a gallery. We’d ummed and ahhed a bit over whether the tickets were worth it, but we were so glad we went—completely lived up to the hype.

That evening we met up with Jess again for dinner. We’d been recommended this teeny sushi bar with just five seats and a chef who’s been doing sushi for decades. You pick your price tier—£10, £15 or £20—and he serves you whatever he’s in the mood to make within that range. The sushi was delicious, but wow—he was *not* shy with the wasabi. Some bites blew our heads off. Still, it was a great experience and felt like a very authentic little Tokyo gem.

After dinner, we went back to the Golden Gai area—we just couldn’t resist. The bars there are all so tiny and quirky, each with its own theme and personality. This time, we ended up in a Harley-Davidson motorbike-themed bar, because of course we did. Sake was flowing, and before we knew it, we were doing karaoke with some new friends from Leeds and the US. The bar owner even insisted we do a mini photoshoot on her Harley after we paid—so we now have a collection of very dramatic motorbike photos we didn’t know we needed.

We ended the night sprinting through the streets trying not to miss the last train—thankfully we made it, slightly breathless and definitely still humming Arctic Monkeys.

The next day, we were back on our walking tour grind—this time exploring Harajuku and the Meiji Shrine. Thankfully, this one was *way* more informative than the last and actually felt like a proper history lesson rather than just a scenic stroll. Our guide was a lovely Japanese woman who took us through the dramatic tale of Japan’s transition from samurai swords to skyscrapers. She explained how the country was ruled by shoguns and samurai during the Edo period, how it isolated itself from the world for over two centuries, and then, quite dramatically, flung its doors open to trade with the US, kicking off a whirlwind cultural revolution.

All of this happened under Emperor Meiji, the guy who essentially said, “Let’s learn everything from the West but still be *very* Japanese about it.” He’s also the one behind the famous phrase, “Knowledge of the West, spirit of Japan.” After his death, the nation built the Meiji Shrine in his honour—a grand Shinto temple surrounded by forest, because in Shintoism, gods are in nature. The forest itself was planted by thousands of people who donated trees from all across Japan, which is honestly kind of beautiful. There are also huge barrels of wine from Europe and Sake from Japan given every year still in his honour.

The guide also gave us tips on shrine etiquette—don’t walk through the centre of the torii gates (that’s god territory), and when praying: bow twice, clap twice to get the gods’ attention, make your wish, and toss in a coin. Like a very respectful cosmic vending machine.

We also got to try the traditional fortune-telling sticks. You shake a big container, pull out a stick, match the number to a drawer, and take your fate from inside. Mine basically told me to behave because god is always watching (yikes), and Grace’s fortune warned her to stop gossiping—which raised some eyebrows, not gonna lie. What have we been doing lately?

After the shrine, we passed through the Olympic Park and took a stroll down Harajuku’s famous fashion street, where the current trend seems to be dressing like Victorian porcelain dolls. Cute, slightly unsettling, but undeniably impressive levels of dedication.

Post-tour, we wandered around a bit more before heading to a katsu curry place that our guide had raved about. We were joined by an American woman from our group, and the food was *excellent*—crispy, golden, and comforting.

After lunch, we took a leisurely 30-minute stroll through the backstreets, soaking in the quieter side of Tokyo, making our way toward a robot café. Very futuristic. Very Tokyo….Except we never quite made it. Just as we arrived, Grace realised she’d left her purse at the restaurant. Cue the great purse retracing mission—30 minutes back, 30 minutes to the café again, and by the end of it we were sweaty, tired, and a little knackered. Ready to be waited in by some robots!

The robot café itself was cool, if slightly bizarre. The robots didn’t do much in the way of actual serving—they just hovered near your table and performed the odd dance or bit of small talk, like high-tech dinner party guests you hadn’t invited. Still, very fun to experience and peak “only in Japan” energy.

By that point, we were knackered. After several days of non-stop sightseeing, late nights, and early mornings, we headed back to the hostel for a much-needed rest. We’d booked an evening walking tour that promised a deep dive into Japan after dark—covering everything from maid cafés to the history of comfort women and the country’s work-hard, drink-harder culture. I was genuinely excited about it… but sadly, my body had other plans. All the rushing around finally caught up with me and I ended up having a Crohn’s flare-up—nausea, stomach pain, the works.

So we had to cancel the tour, which I was absolutely gutted about. But I suppose that just gives me an excuse to come back to Tokyo one day—unfinished business, and all that!

Our next stop is Hakone, tell you all about it soon, love Alice x

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Alishan, Taiwan

Our next stop was Alishan National Park. It was a long travel day to get there, involving a bullet train and a local bus winding its way through the mountains. The scenery was beautiful, but the road hugged the edge of the cliffs at times, which made for a nerve-wracking ride.

We eventually arrived in one piece and made our way to our hotel. When we checked in, we were told there would be an evening firefly walk, so we put our names down for it. But first, we headed out to find some dinner. Unfortunately, it turned out to be pretty disappointing and not even what we had ordered. We’d picked three dishes—noodles, rice, and mixed vegetables (according to their English-translated menu)—but somehow only ended up with two: noodles and some beef with bamboo. Neither was particularly nice.

After dinner, we joined the firefly walk and were led along some disused railway tracks into a patch of forest that was absolutely glowing with fireflies. It was magical—they weren’t just in the trees, but floating all around us. I tried to get some photos and videos, but aside from the very brightest ones, they didn’t show up. Still, it was an incredible experience.

The next day, we got up early to catch a bus to the visitor centre so we could explore the national park. What we hadn’t realised was that it was a bank holiday weekend. The bus was an hour late and completely packed—we had to stand for the entire 40-minute journey. The driver was racing along the winding mountain roads, and the motion started to make us all feel sick. Grace had to sit down in the aisle because she felt like she might either throw up or faint. Thankfully, we arrived without either of those things happening and were very relieved to be on solid ground again.

The park was heaving with people, but we eventually managed to get away from the crowds and spent a few hours walking among the towering trees and visiting old temples. It was really peaceful once we got off the main paths.

Eventually, we headed back to town for dinner, but again, it was super disappointing—overcooked pork cutlet and some tasteless vegetables. We gave up halfway through and opted for instant noodles from 7/11 to eat in our room instead!

We were supposed to head to Sun Moon Lake the following morning, our final stop in Taiwan. But when we went to book our train tickets, we discovered everything was fully booked until Monday because of the holiday. To make matters worse, we couldn’t extend our stay at the hotel either, as they were also fully booked. After a stressful evening of planning, panicking, and rechecking our options, we had to accept that getting to Sun Moon Lake and back in time for our flight wasn’t going to happen. Instead, we booked a night in a town about two hours away called Chiayi, where we could get a train to Taipei on Monday morning. We made sure to book our tickets to Chiayi and from Chiayi to Taipei in advance this time.

Our train to Chiayi wasn’t until 1:30 p.m. the next day, so we used our free morning to go for another walk around town. It had been cold the whole time we were there, so we finally gave in and wore jeans. Naturally, that was the day the sun came out in full force. We spent most of the walk sweating and climbing hills in the heat. When we finally got back to the hotel, the lovely owner saw our red faces and immediately sat us down with a fan pointed right at us.

Once we’d cooled off, we grabbed another 7/11 meal—this time some sushi and a banana— as well as a coffee and a chocolate milk for me, which came in cool takeout pouches, before catching our train to Chiayi.

The train ride was lovely, winding through forested areas, and everyone we passed waved to us. And I mean everyone—kids, adults, men in business suits and staff on the platforms. It was like we were celebrities. It felt like seeing a train was a rare event, even though there are at least three a day on this route. I guess people were just love a good train here.

After checking in at our hotel in Chiayi, our first stop was to find some food that hadn’t come from 7/11. We ended up at an American BBQ place and had some delicious brisket buns and chips. Finally, an tasty qmeal! After that, we headed out to the launderette.

The next morning, we finally caught a train back to Taipei. The bullet trains were all booked out, so we had to take the slower option—a five-hour train ride! We arrived in the late afternoon and decided to try a noodle place that had been recommended to us on the walking tour during our last visit to Taipei. There was a queue outside, which is usually a good sign, and we ended up waiting for about an hour before finally being seated in little one-person cubbies.

The menu wasn’t in English, and our phone translation app wasn’t much help either, so it turned into another point-and-guess meal. We both ended up with beef noodles, but I had apparently ordered a set that came with side dishes of what I think were tofu, pig’s skin, and blood cubes. I tried all of them—they tasted fine—but they weren’t really to my liking. I think I’m just not used to slimy, chewy textures. A bit of an underwhelming last meal.

After dinner, we headed back to our hostel, and while we’d been out, there had apparently been an earthquake in Hualien—the place we visited a few stops ago. We hadn’t noticed a thing, but some people felt slight tremors. An eventful end to our time in Taiwan!

Tomorrow we fly to Japan. I’ll tell you all about it soon!

Love, Alice x

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Taipei, Taiwan

We arrived in Taipei around lunchtime, dropped our bags at the hostel, and decided to grab a drink at the café next door while planning how to spend our afternoon. The café was a postcard café— even the menu was on postcards. You selected one to make your order and got to keep it for free. We also picked up a few others and spent time writing them while sipping our drinks.

We then found a lunch spot—a local cafeteria where you mark a cross next to what you want on a laminated menu. We chose some beef and chicken dishes with no real idea of what they were, but as always in Taiwan, they turned out to be super tasty. After lunch, we decided to kick off our sightseeing with Taipei’s, and possibly Taiwan’s, most famous building: the Taipei 101 skyscraper. It was the world’s tallest building in 2004 and, between 2004 and 2015, had the world’s fastest elevator, reaching a speed of 1010 m/s! Not sure if it was going that fast when we used it, but our ears popped and we felt weightless as it decelerated—very cool.

We paid to go up to the observation deck and got a real sense of just how large and sprawling Taipei is. It was fascinating to see. They also have the exposed movement-dampening weight that reduces the tower’s sway in high winds or earthquakes, and we watched videos of it moving during previous quakes—really interesting.

In the evening, we joined a food tour at one of the city’s night markets. Taiwan has loads of night markets, so we figured it would be a great way to learn about all the tasty things we could be eating.

We started with sweet, donut-like balls made from sweet potatoes—very nice. Then came my favourite: a pork belly bao bun, a soft, steamed bun filled with pork belly, cabbage, and crushed peanuts. It was incredibly tender and delicious—so good it’s even earned Michelin recognition!

We also learned that this market, like several others in Taiwan, originally started near brothels. When prostitution was outlawed, people used the loophole of “just buying food” and then “falling in love with the chef.” Eventually, the food became more popular than the other services. That’s also why there are still traditional shops selling snake-based products—rice wine mixed with snake blood, bile, venom, and even semen, to fuel the men up for round two! Our guide joked that Westerners had too weak a stomach to try them, and Grace dared me £10 to prove him wrong. That’s how I ended up drinking a shot of rice wine and snake semen. Thankfully, it just tasted like rice wine! Having single-handedly restored Western pride, we moved on.

Next were soup dumplings—always delicious, no matter how many times we’ve had them. At this point, I was very full, but we were only on stop 5 of 10. Next came oyster omelettes, made with egg, oysters, and a rice paste. They were okay, but not something I’d rush to eat again, especially when already stuffed. Grace didn’t touch hers, but our guide boxed it up with the rest of the extras he’d collected to give to homeless people later. That made us feel better about not finishing everything.

After that was a drink stop where we tried winter melon juice. The fruit is absolutely huge. It tasted fine, but I wouldn’t go out of my way to have it again.

Next came deep-fried fish paste, which sounded a bit grim—it had strips of boiled egg inside—but it was actually quite pleasant. Then we had scallion pancakes, a mix between an omelette and a pancake with spring onions. Grace loves them and had already had one for breakfast that morning, so I skipped this round.

Our final food stop was stinky tofu—fermented tofu with a very strong smell. We’d been smelling it at every market and genuinely thought it was sewage! We even had conversations about why no one sorted out the plumbing near the markets. Turns out it was just the tofu. It’s super popular here, so I figured it must taste better than it smells. I was mistaken. It tasted horrible—less strong than the smell, but still very unpleasant. I managed to swallow it with a poker face and convinced Grace to try it as payback for the snake semen dare. She immediately gagged and spat it into a tissue. Only I and a Korean woman in our group kept it down—she even liked it, but said she was used to strong fermented foods.

Our last stop was actually a 7-Eleven, which are everywhere in Taiwan and most of Asia. Despite being an American chain, they’re even more common than McDonald’s here. This was one of the most interesting stops for me. Our guide introduced us to popular Taiwanese snacks. First up were Guai Guai, which roughly translates to “obedient” or “well-behaved.” They’re coconut crisps that taste a bit like a fruit-flavoured version of Rainbow Drops from the 90s. But more importantly, they’re used symbolically—people write names on the packet and leave them unopened as a way to ensure that person or even a computer server behaves. They’re even placed next to machines in Taiwan’s semiconductor factories.

The other two sweets had less lore but were just tasty. One was chocolate-covered jelly bean-like sweets—unusual but nice. The other was a slightly harder, more rigid puff pastry filled with a sweet, custardy filling. Delicious, and dangerously cheap and accessible!

We also learned why Taiwan is so keen on receipts. All receipts here are entered into a lottery. The government announces winning numbers monthly—it’s a clever way to ensure all transactions go through the till so taxes are paid correctly, enforced entirely by people insisting on their receipts. Genius!

The tour was so good we signed up for another one the next morning—a historical walking tour of the city. It was brilliant. Despite being three hours long, we probably only walked for 20 minutes, as we stopped frequently while our guide, a history student, explained Taiwan’s fascinating past. He talked us through the island’s various occupations—Dutch, Japanese, and then the ROC after retreating from mainland China following the communist uprising by the People’s Republic of China. He explained how Taiwan still officially uses the name Republic of China (ROC) because of long-standing treaties and the sensitive politics involved in changing it.

We also learned about the decades of martial law under ROC rule and how badly the local population was treated, including the horrific 228 Massacre. On February 28th, 1947, army officers beat a widow selling cigarettes to feed her family. The sale of tobacco was restricted to government vendors. When a crowd gathered to defend her, soldiers fired into it, killing a man. Protests escalated, and the military continued for weeks following with more shooting into crowds, eventually leading to an estimated 18,000 to 28,000 deaths. It was a sobering but very informative tour. The guide’s passion really showed—we were only meant to go for two hours, but thanks to everyone’s questions, we went on for three.

The tour ended with a couple of food stops. We visited a traditional ice cream shop that’s been around for years, Ice King. I tried their pork flavour—odd but not entirely unpleasant, with bits of jerky in it! Grace went for jasmine tea flavour, which was also good.

Our guide invited us to join him afterwards for lunch, where we got another pork belly bao bun—this one had a fried bun instead of steamed, and it was amazing. Definitely Michelin-worthy too.

We met a really nice Aussie guy on the tour named Jacob. After chatting about our plans, he asked to join us for our evening hike up Elephant Mountain to catch the sunset, so we exchanged numbers and said goodbye for now—he went off to nap some jet lag away.

We then headed over to the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall, a huge plaza surrounded by impressive buildings honouring the ROC leader who retreated to Taiwan. Feelings about him are very mixed depending on age, social class, and how people were treated under his regime. The memorial strikes an interesting balance—there are two museums inside: one that praises him, and another that criticises him. You can choose which one to walk through—they’re on opposite sides of the same building. We had a quick look at both, but since we don’t speak Mandarin, we didn’t take much in.

In the evening, we met up with Jacob again and hiked up Elephant Mountain. It was a lot of steps, but the view was worth it. It was too smoggy to catch much of a sunset, but the skyline lit up at night was really cool.

Afterward, we found a small restaurant with a huge menu. The owner spoke some English and offered to read the whole menu to us, but we asked her to just pick us a few of her favourites. She brought us deep-fried crispy noodles, two small prawn omelettes, spring rolls, two types of steamed dumplings, chicken in broth, and spicy chicken feet—which I had actually wanted to try at some point. Everything was tasty—even the chicken feet!

Afterwards, Jacob asked if we wanted to join him at an open mic night at a local comedy club. It turned out to be great fun, although one American guy seemed more mentally unstable than funny—he ranted about the US government racing sperm. Wild, but it made for great material for the comics that followed!

The next day was another jam-packed one. We took the train to Jiufen, a mountain town to the north east, joined again by Jacob. Jiufen is known for its tiny, winding market streets and traditional teahouses. When we arrived, it was absolutely rammed—turns out it was Labour Day and a public holiday! We shuffled through the market in a sardine-like conveyor belt of people, sampling teas and snacks. We grabbed a sausage on a stick along the way, and when we’d had enough of the crowds, we ducked into a traditional teahouse. We were shown how to properly steep the tea and spent a lovely hour chatting and sipping.

Afterwards, we had lunch at a restaurant with a stunning mountain view. As expected in a touristy spot, the food was overpriced and mediocre, but the view made up for it.

Next, we hopped one stop down the line to Houtong Cat Village. It was fun to see cats wandering everywhere, although most looked a bit fed up with being petted by strangers. We only stroked the ones that seemed keen and left the rest too it, much to Grace’s disappointment.

Our last stop of the day was Shifen, another old town built around railway tracks. The popular activity here is releasing paper lanterns on the tracks, which then float into the sky. We watched people do this for a bit before heading to the nearby waterfall. The walk was beautiful and peaceful, except for the old lanterns scattered everywhere. We also saw beautiful long-tailed blue birds—very picturesque.

We took a taxi back to Taipei and headed to another night market, again super busy. We tried deep-fried boneless ribs, more chicken feet (less tasty cold), deep-fried mushrooms (very tasty), pork blood sausage (mostly tasted of peanuts), and of course, our favourite, more soup dumplings. We spotted another Michelin-recognised stall and had to try it, but somehow ended up with a massive block of flavourless jelly. Still not sure what the deal was—maybe we ordered wrong? At least we tried!

Bellies full, we headed home for the night, said goodbye to Jacob, and got ready for our next stop—Alishan National Forest.

Can’t wait to tell you all about it soon! Love, Alice x

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Hualien, Taiwan

Our trip to Hualien got off to a promising start. We successfully navigated Taiwan’s bullet train system (which is as smooth and shiny as you’d hope) and even managed to pick a hostel just a stone’s throw from the station. We then got some mystery lunch, with a pot luck point at the mandarin menu, I think it was braised beef with beef jelly and cinnamon, it was tasty so no complaints here. So far, so good.

Then things got… a little bumpier. We had come to Hualien mainly to visit Taroko National Park, famous for its jaw-dropping gorge and dramatic hiking trails. But thanks to our method of booking *an entire month of travel* in a single caffeine-fueled afternoon back in the Philippines, we hadn’t caught one small detail: Most of the park is still closed because of earthquake damage from last year.

This was, of course, not mentioned on the park’s website. Or by our hostel. Or by anyone until we were sat there pulling our hair out, wondering why there were no buses, no tours, and only confused shrugs from the locals.

We spent most of the afternoon desperately trying to figure out a Plan B. After a lot of Googling and spiraling into minor despair, we found a taxi tour suggested by another stranded tourist online. We were saved! (Sort of.)

With that sorted, we went out to the night market to drown our sorrows in street food, which frankly is always a solid strategy. It was brilliant—an absolute feast for the senses. At one point we even saw a whole crocodile displayed on ice, which neither of us was quite brave enough to order. (Maybe next time.)Instead, we started with soup dumplings, and *wow*. Life-changing. Steamed parcels of pork and veggies, each filled with a tiny explosion of savory broth. So good we even learned the Mandarin word for “delicious” just to thank the vendor properly—who was delighted by our mangled pronunciation.

Next stop: iced tea. I went for passion fruit flavor, and it was every bit as amazing as you’d expect something containing more sugar than a small country to be. Then we watched a fun local performance where guys with giant puppet costumes strapped to their backs chased squealing children around. Good wholesome fun.

Feeling brave, we moved on to mystery meat skewers. Despite the very helpful English menu, none of the actual skewers were labeled, so it was a bit of a lottery. I just picked two that looked safe and hoped for the best. I was tempted by “chicken butts” (apparently the tailbone meat), but Grace, who’s tried them before, warned me they’re usually quite tough and dry. So I stuck with my mystery picks. The stall owner, clearly used to nervous tourists, kindly double-checked with me: I’d chosen duck and belly pork—perfect! Both were delicious.

While eating, we ended up chatting with a couple of other westerners at the stall—two digital nomads in their late thirties. We haven’t seen many other western tourists around here, so when you do spot one, it’s pretty common to say hello. After a nice chat, we said our goodbyes and went off to look for more food… but unfortunately, the market closed at 9pm. Good thing we were already pretty full!

The next day was our big “tour” of Taroko National Park… and it was, well, not exactly what we’d hoped. What was supposed to be an eight-hour day ended up being four hours of being dropped at random locations and posing awkwardly for photos.

Our first two stops were “beautiful beaches”—which is a tough sell after the Philippines! Honestly, even compared to UK beaches, they weren’t anything special. That said, there were some amazing art sculptures made from driftwood washed ashore, which were very cool to see. Next, we visited a well-maintained garden, a scenic viewpoint (this one was actually quite pretty), and then… a tiny local library, where the staff looked very confused about why we were there. After that: an ice cream shop, then a photography shop—none of which seemed like actual tourist attractions.

Finally, some more genuine sightseeing: a small historic church and a fish factory, which at least had a little museum showing how they catch and dry the fish.

At last, we made it to Taroko National Park itself—only to find out officially that it was mostly closed due to earthquake damage. Still, we got to see the iconic entry gate and tunnel, and we explored the visitor center, where a documentary was playing about the earthquake and its impact. It was in Mandarin, but we could get the gist from the footage, and it was striking to see the extent of the destruction.

After that, we visited a small recreation of a Japanese village, where we learned a little about Taiwan’s history under Japanese occupation—thanks mostly to some quick Wikipedia reading on our phones. Then it was back to the hostel for a chilled-out afternoon.

In the evening, we went out for dinner—some delicious fried rice and salt-and-pepper chicken— and admired some truly questionable English on the restaurant’s wallpaper, before heading back to pack up for our early morning train to Taipei.

I’ll tell you all about it soon! Love, Alice x