Why aren’t we in Japan right now?

In Japan, everything is simply wonderful. And I mean everything; it’s not an exaggeration. To everyone who asked me when I returned from there, “How was Japan?” I replied that being in Japan is the dream of dreams. You walk the streets with a continuous sense of wonder, slowly starting to believe that everything there is truly amazing and excellent, and yet you are still surprised every time you discover something new. It’s really hard to put that marvelous feeling into words.

In Japan, everything is beautiful, breathtaking, or stunning, but it’s much more than superficial beauty because everything has real meaning. Japanese food is so beautiful; every dish feels as though a talented designer considered every specific detail, placed each component exactly in the right place, and created a picture that tells a story. This tempting beauty is not just for the sake of beauty; it tells the story of the high-quality, fresh ingredients, the traditional or modern recipes, the chef who created the dish, the region, the customs, and the culture. When you think about it, it’s somewhat similar to a brand story translated into a wonderful and delicious experience.

If you ask, I can and would even be happy to talk for hours about the mesmerizing display of model dishes from the menus commonly used in many restaurants in Japan. The meticulously recreated models made from materials like plastic or wax are among my favorite things during my explorations in Japan. There is so much attention and soul in Japan.

In Japan, everything is simply wonderful. And I mean everything; it’s not an exaggeration. To everyone who asked me when I returned from there, “How was Japan?” I replied that being in Japan is the dream of dreams. You walk the streets with a continuous sense of wonder, slowly starting to believe that everything there is truly amazing and excellent, and yet you are still surprised every time you discover something new. It’s really hard to put that marvelous feeling into words.

In Japan, everything is beautiful, breathtaking, or stunning, but it’s much more than superficial beauty because everything has real meaning. Japanese food is so beautiful; every dish feels as though a talented designer considered every specific detail, placed each component exactly in the right place, and created a picture that tells a story. This tempting beauty is not just for the sake of beauty; it tells the story of the high-quality, fresh ingredients, the traditional or modern recipes, the chef who created the dish, the region, the customs, and the culture. When you think about it, it’s somewhat similar to a brand story translated into a wonderful and delicious experience.

If you ask, I can and would even be happy to talk for hours about the mesmerizing display of model dishes from the menus commonly used in many restaurants in Japan. The meticulously recreated models made from materials like plastic or wax are among my favorite things during my explorations in Japan. There is so much attention and soul in Japan.

What particularly moved me on my last trip to Japan was none other than the manhole covers.

‍

What particularly moved me on my last trip to Japan was none other than the manhole covers. I noticed them in Tokyo, but I didn’t fully understand how wonderful they were until later. From Tokyo, we continued to Nagoya and the deer park in Nara, to Kyoto, Kurashiki, Osaka, Kanazawa, Matsumoto, Fuji, and a few more places that are part of one long, perfect dream. In each place we visited, there was a different, unique manhole cover that touched me anew. As the days went by, I found myself addicted and devoted to actively searching for manhole covers, observing them, appreciating the stories they tell me, photographing them, and keeping that memory for myself. Each manhole cover is part of the experience of the area or city it represents; it embodies the essence of local pride while also conveying the essence and story of the place to those who don’t know. From the impressive temples of Kyoto, through the perfect Mt. Fuji, the magical deer of Nara, to the traditional Japanese houses that look like hobbit homes in the ancient village of Shirakawa-go, a lot of attention was invested in each cover, and the result is one big “wow.”

What particularly moved me on my last trip to Japan was none other than the manhole covers. I noticed them in Tokyo, but I didn’t fully understand how wonderful they were until later. From Tokyo, we continued to Nagoya and the deer park in Nara, to Kyoto, Kurashiki, Osaka, Kanazawa, Matsumoto, Fuji, and a few more places that are part of one long, perfect dream. In each place we visited, there was a different, unique manhole cover that touched me anew. As the days went by, I found myself addicted and devoted to actively searching for manhole covers, observing them, appreciating the stories they tell me, photographing them, and keeping that memory for myself. Each manhole cover is part of the experience of the area or city it represents; it embodies the essence of local pride while also conveying the essence and story of the place to those who don’t know. From the impressive temples of Kyoto, through the perfect Mt. Fuji, the magical deer of Nara, to the traditional Japanese houses that look like hobbit homes in the ancient village of Shirakawa-go, a lot of attention was invested in each cover, and the result is one big “wow.”

Japan’s manhole covers are proof that anything in this world, in physical space and maybe even virtual space, can tell a story. To me, they are also a very good example of summarizing what is essential, important, central, and most characteristic of the place or city, which is essentially the brand that needs to tell its story.

All that’s left for me is to ask (perhaps too often), “Why aren’t we in Japan right now?” and to continue thinking about when I can return there because there are still so many manhole covers waiting for me and a million dreamlike experiences I haven’t yet had.

Japan’s manhole covers are proof that anything in this world, in physical space and maybe even virtual space, can tell a story. To me, they are also a very good example of summarizing what is essential, important, central, and most characteristic of the place or city, which is essentially the brand that needs to tell its story.

All that’s left for me is to ask (perhaps too often), “Why aren’t we in Japan right now?” and to continue thinking about when I can return there because there are still so many manhole covers waiting for me and a million dreamlike experiences I haven’t yet had.