11 JAN 2025

People wearing kimono are praying for blessings at Sensō-ji Temple.

Everyone has their own version of Tokyo. For my young kids, it’s the world of Ghibli films, the music of Joe Hisaishi, and a secret ninja training ground hidden somewhere. For me, Tokyo has always carried the sweetness of Akana Rika’s big smile. Before setting off, I was already imagining that even if I did nothing at all, even if I just wandered around the streets of Tokyo, I would be blissfully happy.

Day 1 Tokyo 木曜日

The first day we did a big circle around central Tokyo: Ginza, Sensō-ji, Ueno, Tokyo University, Shinjuku, and Shibuya. It was still in winter, but a Sakura tree had already blossomed, passersby stopped one after another to capture its unexpected beauty.

We walked for what felt like ages before finally stumbling upon a Yakitori bar in Omoide Yokocho, it was so tiny, could barely fit the three of us. Squeezed together on the cramped second floor, starving and exhausted, we were hunched over the menu trying to decide what to order. That was the moment Luke pressed the camera's shutter.

Later, he used that photo as the cover for his school photography project. Our expressions were tired and drooping, but that honest moment is also part of our jounal, I am glad he caputured it.

I picked up a copy of To Stay or To Leave: The Choices of Chinese Intellectuals in 1949. I also bought a 2025 desk calendar. That day was January 15th, and on the page it read:

“Clouds wrapped upon the city like drifting jellyfish.”

Opening a brick-and-mortar store is no easy feat these days, t was truly moving to come across this Chinese bookstore tucked in the heart of Tokyo’s Ginza. In recent years, a growing number of Chinese intellectuals have relocated to Tokyo, transforming spaces like this into hubs for offline salons.

History always repeats itself, in the late Qing and early Republican years, many Chinese reformers—figures like Sun Yat‑sen, Huang Xing, and Zhang Taiyan—used Tokyo as one of their main bases. The Tong Meng Hui-Chinese United League took shape here, planning, debating, finding its voice. Even Lu Xun, during his years of study in Japan, experienced the turning point that led him to abandon medicine and devote himself to writing. Japan at the time offered not only a relatively freer environment but also a place where young Chinese thinkers could encounter modern social systems up close.

Today, though the times and circumstances are entirely different, that tradition of ‘rethinking China from Tokyo’ seems to be continuing in its own way.

Day 2 Tokyo 金曜日

We visited a calligraphic exhibition at the National Art Center in Tokyo. It was fascinating to see how Japanese calligraphers playfully and artistically write Chinese characters, or Kanji in Japanese. Each piece felt like a riddle; I guess its meaning at first, then read the description to reveal the answer, not easy to be right! One work I thought it's a child playing with a crocodile, while another showed a woman praying under a heavy rain beneath thick, black clouds. It reminded me that in Chinese/Kanji, the character for music is the same as for joy. I explained this to Luke, it's something I wish he can always remember.

Wander, Explore, and Discover: Tokyo's TeamLab Borderless

I've seen many Instagram photos of TeamLab, but the real experience still exceeded my expectations. Not only did I enjoy it, but my kids were also thrilled to explore and interact with the digital art, they followed the flow of the art from room to room, and every room offered an awe-inspiring experience. One room felt like it was straight out of "Inside Out 2", with emotion balls moving around. This was a wonderful shared experience for us, especially since we had just watched the movie together not long ago. In the end, the kids got to color some sea animals, and their drawings were scanned and projected onto a big screen where they swam around. It was so much fun!

Day 3 Tokyo 土曜日

I left half day for my eldest to take us somewhere he wanted to go. He led us to a suburb — such an interesting place. I never imagined a big metro city like Tokyo would have spots like this. And I ended up taking some of my favorite photos of the whole trip there.

Day 4 Tokyo to Nagoya Manhole covers

I noticed that Tokyo’s manhole covers feature a cherry blossom, while Nagoya’s look like an alien sending signals to me… But the kids said, “That’s not an alien, it’s a grasshopper.” Later I googled: it’s actually a water strider — the mascot of Nagoya’s sewer system. The official description says: water striders quickly fly to places with water. They also live in flowing water, such as mountain streams, which makes them a perfect symbol for water supply and sewer systems.

After leaving Tokyo, I didn’t use camera any more, just taking shots of my kids from the phone. The rest of the trip was really for them. We went to Legoland in Nagoya, and my youngest is still talking about it, as if the whole day was a dream come true. He told me it was the happiest day of his life.

In the gift shop, I bought him a pair of Ninjago twin blades. On the way back to the hotel, he strutted along with them proudly strapped to his back, and I couldn’t stop watching the joy on his face. Legoland is perfect for younger children, and I’m glad we didn’t miss this moment while he was still at just the right age, still dreaming to become a real ninja when grow up.

Day 5-6 Osaka Universal Studio

The long queues at Universal Studios Japan were enough to drain anyone’s enthusiasm. We waited for almost two hours, playing all sorts of one‑word games with the two kids just to pass the time. But when we finally got a few minutes on Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey, the experience was so good it almost tricked me into thinking the two‑hour wait was worth it, no wonder it ranks no.1 ride in theme parks.

Day 7 Goodbye Tokyo 水曜日

At night on the Shinkansen, the landscape scenery had disappeared with daylight. Beyond the window, I could not tell whether it was rice fields or the sea. I saw my reflection in the glass, with scattered lights far away—small, distant—like villages that might have belonged to any corner of the Earth.

Japanese Kanji is intresting to me. It feels undertoodable, yet not readable, carrying an ancient, distant poetry. We passed a platform “岐阜羽島” — a name that sounds like an island where fairies lives, In Osaka, the train passes another station “夕凪” - The name itself seemed to breathe: as though the wind had fallen silent along the shore, leaving only the slow descent of the sunset.

The last night leaving Tokyo, stepping out of Tokyo Station to catch a taxi to Narita Airport. The city lights blazed brilliantly; the night was so full of vivid life that my heart skipped a beat. And yet, I started to miss another island, tucked away in a quiet corner of the world.