Writing hasn’t been flowing as it was in Taiwan. I think it’s because my daily routine changed. Maybe it’s also because I’m suddenly fascinated with tea and have been studying everything about it intensively. Regardless, I feel like I have to continue to share the rest of this memorable trip with you.

A breakfast I’ll never forget

After those few days in Tokyo I headed south to a place called Kamakura. Kamakura is a coastal city which I chose to visit because of its surf & longboard vibe. I know what you might be thinking “Why on earth would someone go to Japan to experience their surf culture?”. Certainly, Japan is well known for many things and I wouldn’t say surfing is one of them. Yet, as with most if not all things the Japanese do, they do “surf vibe” very well. I stayed at a small hostel in Hase. The place was a traditional Japanese house, all made out of dark wood and located just ten steps away from the ocean. Luckily for me, I was their only guest.

Influenced by the dozens of Japanese surf magazines I had “read” the night before, I decided to ask for the hostel’s breakfast. It had been covered by most of the magazines so I presumed it would be good. Still, just to be sure of what was in it given that it was a traditional Japanese breakfast, I asked the only staff member around and he replied it had soup, seaweed, rice and small fish. It sounded like something I could eat but little did I know that my definition of “small fish” is quite different from his. To me a small fish is a sardine; to the Japanese is a sardine’s newborn (aka shirasu). “But at least I can eat the rice…” I thought. As I put my chopsticks underneath the pile of baby sardines to reach for the rice - thinking it would be warm and comforting – I’m unpleasantly surprised with threads of a sticky, smelly slime, which I reluctantly put in my mouth only to confirm that it was the most disgusting thing I had ever eaten. It turns out that the rice was mixed with natto slime, although no fermented soybeans were to be found. It was the first time in my life that despite being ravenous I wasn’t able to eat at all.

Traumatized but still hungry, I headed to the nearest place that could offer me the safest breakfast possible. I found Cafe Recette, where they specialize in making the perfect toast. A toast never tasted better.

No cherry on top of my birthday cake

This whole idea of going to Japan took a very specific form four years ago when, while in the UK during the Rugby World Cup, I was determined to travel to the country that would host the next competition, which - surprise, surprise - was going to be Japan. The dates were also coinciding with my 40th birthday, making it the perfect timing for such a special trip.

For the last night in my thirties I decided to treat myself with a night at a ryokan in the Fuji-Hakone-Izu National Park and then head to Kyoto the next day for a nice kaiseki dinner. A ryokan is a typical Japanese guest house with tatami-matted rooms and hot spring public baths, also known as onsen. Again, if there’s a place on earth where “sleeping on the floor” and “public baths” can actually be good experiences is in Japan. I confess I became quite a fan of onsen and even when I stayed in places that didn’t have a public bath I would prepare my own bathtub. At this ryokan the guests could enjoy the onsen in the outdoors and in private, making this experience twice as pleasant. I kicked off my forties with a - this time - delicious Japanese breakfast: tamago egg omelette, steamed salmon, tofu salad, warm rice, miso soup, Japanese porridge and a variety of pickles and condiments.

I was really aiming for the most cliché Japanese experience possible. However, I missed one thing. You see, going from Hakone to Kyoto meant taking the train that would travel the closest to Mt Fuji. But to my disappointment, Japan’s most iconic landmark was all covered in clouds. I didn’t even get a glimpse of it.

Kyoto bliss

Despite being home to some of the most impressive temples in Japan, temple hopping in Kyoto can be far from blissful. As a rule of thumb, it is recommended by a lot of people, myself included, that you go to the most touristic places either early in the morning or late in the afternoon to avoid the crowds. I had terrible experiences at Kinkaku-ji and Arashiyama bamboo forest and blissful ones at Ryōan-ji and Hōnen-in, all thanks to schedule considerations. This might require you to plan your visit differently but I don’t really know how can people enjoy spiritual places when surrounded by loud crowds trying to take the best photo.

So, visit your favorite temples yes, one in the morning, one in the evening, and in between eat and go for walks. Just as in Tokyo, I had a blast at Kyoto’s most famous food market, Nishiki, and went there several times. I also hiked Diamonjiyama and strolled along the Philosopher’s Path twice.

Café worshipping

By now I suppose it’s pretty obvious that food and spirituality are my life motors, what keeps me moving, from markets to cafes, from Nature to temples.

But now that I’m thinking about it, food itself is spiritual, and cafes and markets can be seen as food temples, right? Because to be honest I feel an immense solace whenever I’m at a proper café, where instead of being fed peace or ultimate reality, I’m drinking plants and eating delicious reality. Some deep spiritual moments in Japan were indeed spent at very special cafes.

Like when I arrived at Osaka and felt it was so different from all other places I had visited so far - it was dirtier, noisier, and overall weirder - I found comfort spending the whole afternoon at wad, a minimalist cafe and tea house, where you pick the handmade bowl where you want to drink your matcha from. Or when I found minamo in Nara while trying to escape from the heat and sun - it was like an oasis in the desert. Or when I arrived in Naoshima and was frustrated by the fact that there were no more bicycles left to rent and I should’ve booked one in advance, I went straight to get a warm hug (aka coffee) at Mikazukishoten, where I was also warmly welcomed by the owners and greeted with great music and an easy-going vibe. Or when, trying to escape the crowds in Tsukiji market, I came across a guy that was serving drip coffee in a dark side alley. I just sat on top of a plastic crate and watched him pour hot water over coffee, like some kind of sacred ritual, and then just drank it in silence with this other Japanese guy that was just as hypnotized, both of us appreciating the coffee and the moment.

There were many other cafes that I visited and many others that deserve one on my next trip to Japan.