Osaka

Perched on the 38th floor of the Conrad Osaka (¥95000 per night) in Nakanoshima, the hotel’s soaring glass lobby—dubbed 'Your Address in the Sky'—framed a breathtaking view of Osaka’s intersecting rivers and futuristic highways. Osaka has a warm, jovial, down-to-earth swagger that sets it apart from Tokyo’s reserve: louder, punchier, and utterly obsessed with good food.

I devoted my mornings to history and grandeur, walking through the plum and cherry groves of Osaka Castle Park to explore the 16th-century fortress rebuilt with golden leaf details and massive stone moat ramparts. Later, I took the subway down to Kuromon Ichiba Market, affectionately dubbed 'Osaka’s Kitchen'. I spent two glorious hours grazing from stall to stall: freshly grilled king crab legs brushed with sweet soy (¥2,500), rich sea urchin eaten straight from the shell, and skewered A5 Kobe beef torched on the spot with a sprinkle of sea salt (¥2,000).

The soul of Osaka ignites after dark in Dotonbori. Standing on Ebisubashi Bridge under the colossal neon glow of the iconic Glico Running Man sign and mechanical giant crabs, the sensory spectacle was exhilarating. I queued up at Takoya Dotonbori Kukuru for piping-hot takoyaki (¥850 for 8 pieces)—crispy batter balls packed with tender octopus chunks, slathered in savory brown sauce, Japanese mayonnaise, and dancing bonito flakes.

For dinner, I booked a counter seat at Matsusakagyu Yakiniku M in Hozenji Yokocho, a narrow cobblestone alley lined with historic lantern-lit izakayas. Grilling rare cuts of certified Matsusaka beef right on my tabletop charcoal grill (¥15,000 tasting course), followed by cold Japanese craft beer and Japanese whisky highballs at Bar Nayuta, Osaka proved why its famous motto 'Kuidaore' (eat until you drop) is a philosophy worth living by.