ON JAPAN
This January, Quintin and I got together and took 12 of our closest friends to Japan. Yes, you read that right. We traveled halfway across the world and spent two whole weeks, abroad, with twelve friends.
If you’ve been following this blog for a while, you’ll remember that Quintin and I first visited Japan in 2023 during the Radical Sabbatical™. Since then, Japan has exploded in popularity, and we had a million friends endlessly droning on and on about how Japan—specifically skiing in Japan—was sitting at the very top of their bucket lists.
If there’s one area where I have a justified superiority complex, it’s in my ability to execute on a plan. Sick to death of hearing people say they were "dying to go" knowing damn well they’d probably never book the ticket, I whipped up a top-tier itinerary (brag), assembled the “JAPAN 2026” WhatsApp group, and set a commitment deadline. We sent the invite to 17 people. 14 committed. The slightest bit of initiative and imagination really does go the distance.
On this two-week adventure, we visited Tokyo, Niseko, and Kyoto, with day trips to Kanazawa and Osaka. While the emphasis for the group was firmly on chasing legendary Japanese powder, as a girlie who probably never needs to downhill ski again in my life, my personal emphasis was on people-watching and shopping. Both delivered in spades.
As I do in all posts, I’ll regale you all with the tales of my ROSE, BUD & THORNS of the trip.
My undisputed highlight in Tokyo was a day spent running around the city, with my friends, shopping & squealing about all the cute things we were BUYING. While Leeds and Dave did the most damage, I probably had the most fun. It was a complete thrill to create custom, made-to-order notebooks in Kuramae and pour over little paper products at an 8th-generation paper atelier in Ginza. Onitsuka Tiger’s Red Concept Store was a complete scene where I did in fact snag a pair of pink and red flame sneakers that perfectly align with the Arirang album concept, purchased weeks before the album concept was even released. AUSPICIOUS. We started in Ginza, binked through the highlights of Shibuya, devoured some okonomiyaki & beer for lunch as to regain our strength before absolutely decimating our credit cards, as we left no stone unturned in Shimokitazawa. To wrap our spectacular afternoon we headed to Bar Civetta where we enjoyed two perfectly crafted cocktails in a dark, calm ambiance before heading to dinner. I could not write a more perfect day.
Another rose was a post dinner drink at Campbelltoun Loch, a basement whiskey bar that put the "intimate" in intimate setting. Evan and Quintin were, at a baseline, too big for this locale; men of their stature are simply not anatomically designed for a subterranean Tokyo spirits den. Add Sam, Maddie, and me to the equation and the situation shifted from cozy to borderline preposterous. We were five adults tucked into basically, a wood-paneled closet. By my estimation, Campbelltoun Loch is more of a high-density library for legendary liquids than a BAR. Tucked away in a not posh basement in Ginza, this tiny 8-seat locale packs an insane collection of over 300 open bottles into a space so slender, that when seated at the bar, your back is literally a single inch from the back wall. The vibe is magnificently chaotic and cluttered—dimly lit shelves groaning under the weight of world-class scotch, with bottles overflowing onto the bar top four (seven) rows deep. Owner and bartender Nobuyuki Nakamura is a dedicated curator who avoids mainstream labels in favor of rare, odd, and vintage gems. He spoke exactly three words of English “Japanese?” “smokey?” “thank you!” which was more than enough to accomplish what we came for.
My bud is that Tokyo provides a glimpse into what is possible. Perhaps one day there will be an American city where the transit is clean, efficient & quiet. A city where public bathrooms abound. Where cars don’t honk unless there is actual imminent danger (because hoking is DISTURBING). Where restaurants are opened at all hours, and convenience stores are actually convenient…& stocked with food you would eat not because it’s the only thing available, but because it’s a viable option. A place where style is a creative pursuit and the cheap food is as inventive as the Michelin-starred spots. A girl can dream, can she not?
My perennial thorn is that every time I go to Tokyo (every time I go to Tokyo, hahaha I cherished writing that) I feel rushed all day because the city is so massive & there are endless ways to spend your time. It’s a city you could return to time and time again and never do the same thing. Which is exactly what Quintin and I experienced this go round in Tokyo.
Quintin might actually divorce me for admitting that my rose of Niseko had nothing to do with skiing or the 55 inches of snow we got in 4 days. In the event your brain doesn’t do quick math, that equates to more than a foot per day, for 4 days straight. My highlight of Niseko was a butterscotch whiskey cocktail I ordered, and then sipped with my friends, toasty warm, sitting next to a window & watching the snow fall as dusk settled over the town. I ordered this drink having wrapped a half day of skiing, a half day of soaking in a magnificent onsen. I’m not romanticizing the experience. It was heaven and a moment that made me stop, exhale and say “heaven”
My second rose of Niseko is that every morning Quintin was UP AND AT THEM at 5:30AM, BUZZING because he was so excited for the day he couldn’t sleep. At the ripe old age of 34 this man was like a little kid on Christmas, for 5 mornings straight.
I have no buds or thorns from Niseko (aside from the general drudgery of skiing) so other highlights include soaking ymwearly bones at a fancy onsen every day after skiing, an impeccable bowl of ramen paired with a crisp lager and even crispier chicken wings, seeing more snowfall than I’ve ever seen in my entire life and skiing over what I thought was a mound of moguls only to find out there were no moguls, just huge piles of powder. I’ll note that hot soup and dumplings as a mountain lunch is infinitely superior to chicken wings and fries.
My rose of Kyoto is the memory of Dan, Angad, Quintin, Dave, Sam & Evan being INCESSANTLY catcalled by a group of teenage Maiko. We were on a tour in Gion with our guide, Kenta, standing on a quiet side street, loitering, as he gave us a lecture on history. Suddenly, the shades of a nearby window pulled back, and a group of Maiko (apprentices) started giggling, yelling out to our group, waving and throwing heart fingers. Kenta was aghast, stammering and wondering aloud if they were drunk (they weren’t as they’re 14 & under supervision), and finally disclosing that the girls were yelling “HANDSOME! HANDSOME!” at the boys.
Maiko and geisha are always portrayed as demure, as posh, as controlled. But at the end of the day, they’re 16-year-old girls, living in a dorm with their friends. Sent into a complete giggling, girl tizzy because they’re - again - 16, living in a dorm with their friends.
My second rose from Kyoto also pertains to Sir Quitin Bartholomew Sally winning over the heart of another unsuspecting citizen. Q and I took a day trip to Osaka to partake in a Culinary Backstreets tour (as always). The last stop of the day was that of a sixth generation matcha maker, who had won the “top tea master” award three years running. We go to the shop, order our drink and get about our business drinking it. Then the tea master comes over and asks if we have any questions. Quintin, the curious and polite man that he is, asked a question, listened to the answer and then followed up with another question. This follow-up was the invitation the young tea master didn’t know he was seeking, but so obviously was. Before I know it, Quintin is behind the counter, Mr. Matcha holding his hand showing him precisely how to flick his wrist, the shop girls green with envy because they’ve never gotten a 1v1 lesson and our guide is shrieking “you’re literally getting a private lesson from the top tea master in Japan!!!!!” It was frankly a scene. The lesson ends and the man asks to take a picture with Quintin. He takes the opportunity to throw his arm around Q and flash the world’s largest and most true smile at the camera. Precious.
I have a tradition of asking guides who the most famous person from their country is. In Japan, seven different guides answered Shohei Ohtani without a second of hesitation. We had two guides in Kanazawa and they both said Tokugawa Ieyasu.
In discussion about Shohei Ohtani, one of our guides mentioned a saying in Japan that people joke they see Ohtani more than they see their own coworkers because he’s all over the place. This struck me as a fascinating anecdote because one would think the saying would go “I see Ohtani more than I see my own FAMILY” but the fact that the phrase uses "coworkers" instead of "family" is a loud indictment of Japanese work culture, which is notoriously grueling.
In sum, this trip was my dream. Not because of the place or the itinerary (which were both perfect) but because it’s always been my aim to have a group of friends who are willing and able to do a trip like this. I have a Google Doc entitled “hopes & dreams” where I catalog, as you might guess, my hopes and dreams. In that document there’s a section that reads “I want friends who are outrageous. I want friends with the time, money and disposition to go on vacation because the spirit moved them to do so.”
When I wrote this, I wrote it because, at the time, I felt like it was something I didn’t have. The reality is, I had it, I just needed to put it into motion. In 2025, a group of six friends and I went to Egypt for ten days. In 2026, a group of twelve friends and I went to Japan for 14 days. To most people, that’s OUTRAGEOUS. It is outrageous! But it’s the exact DISPOSITION I’m seeking. This trip was literally my hopes & dreams realized.
There is no group chat for 2027 yet, but there is a working thesis.
