Posted by on November 7, 2025

“When it comes to Uji, it would be first flush tea and the view of Manpekirō” –Kikuya Manpekirō

A year ago on this day, I had just returned back to my room at Ibis Styles in front of Kyoto Station; having spent the morning travelling to the Cup Noodle Museum in Ikeda, my best friend and I were soaked from the rainfall that day, and we ultimately wound up retreating to a large mall a few blocks away from our hotel for the afternoon. My friend had been keen on trying his luck at the plethora of gashapon machines in the mall, and I was all too happy to relent, having walked my legs to exhaustion over the previous ten days. I had spent the previous day exploring Uji, a short ways south of Kyoto, and here, the weather had been merciful – the day had been muggy and overcast in the morning, making it relatively easy to explore Uji’s streets and the iconic Byōdo-In Temple. After a delightful macha soba lunch at a hole-in-the-wall shop on a side street, the rain began falling in earnest, and this prompted my friend and I to take shelter in the Tale of Genji Museum. Although my original aim in visiting Uji had been threefold (namely, see the Byōdo-In Temple, try Uji matcha and walk up to the viewpoint Kumiko and Reina had made famous during the events of Hibike! Euphonium), the unexpected stop at the Tale of Genji Museum proved to be a pleasant surprise by all counts. In the end, my friend and I did end up making out way up to the viewpoint during a lull in the rain, but by the time we returned to the central district, the rain began falling in earnest again. After stopping at a café for a matcha float, I decided that since it was raining so heavily, it was easier to return to Kyoto, than stubbornly press forward with my original plan of visiting the Fushimi Inari Shrine and their signature Senbon Torii. In the moment, my buddy and I were soaked to the bone and rendered exhausted, but a full year later, my friend revealed that despite my admittedly aggressive scheduling, and the toll it took on our feet, this experience had been legitimately once-in-a-lifetime. Back in the comfort of our homes, last year’s trip produced a plethora of memories, and I found myself feeling the faintest regret: if I had gone a year later, I would go to Japan armed with an extra year’s worth of photographic knowledge in things like composition, ISO metering, focus zones and be equipped with a much more flexible and versatile lens for daytime shots. However, photographic ability notwithstanding, last year’s trip had been amazing, the culmination of over a decade’s worth of effort – I had been longing to do such a trip in Japan since I was a graduate student, and last year represent the fulfilment of this particular wish.

Putting boots on the ground, and turning what had been a set of notes into lived experiences would tangibly illustrate that there is no substitute for doing things for oneself, and in this trip, I quickly gained a measure of what worked and what areas needed improvement. Outside of memories to last a lifetime, I also returned home with blisters on my feet, the consequence of underestimating how carrying camera gear changes the effort needed to traverse distances: back home, three kilometres is a light walk I routinely take after work, but in Japan, the combination of heavy gear, crowded streets and uneven terrain means three kilometres is more demanding. The blisters would heal within a month, but I now knew that on any return trip to Japan, I would need to be more mindful of these distances and explore options like taxis or buses. Similarly, the weather had also caused my itinerary to shift in a few places: online guides suggested that late October and early November are amongst the driest times of year in Kyoto, making it ideal for sightseeing, and I planned my trip under the assumption that the weather was going to fit with what I’d read, but when rain shuttered my plans on several occasions, I knew that in the future, I would need to consider contingency plans well ahead of my trip. My learnings were put to the test this year in Waterton, where uncertain forecasts accompanying the southern Alberta autumn made it difficult to plan anything at length. I ended up putting a second itinerary together, one which assumed rainfall for the entire week, and when it did rain on my second last day, I wound up having a full day’s worth of enjoyable activities to fall back on. Travel, at least for me, is not about producing Instagrammable or Twitch worthy moments for viewers, but rather, to immerse oneself in a new place to see commonalities and differences, and to also gain a first-hand look at how the lives of others are simultaneously similar to and divergent from our own, as well as learning more about oneself. Aside from the lessons learnt following my travels, Japan also gave me first-hand experience with their remarkable train network, revealed that my rudimentary Japanese (in conjunction with a bit of Google Translate) was sufficient to get by, and gave me a measure of how my camera setup performed in the field. All of these elements come together to produce a vacation worthy of remembrance, but it also has me curious about a return trip.

Screenshots and Commentary

• The fact that Kyoto Animation’s short, Uji ni wa Monogatari ga Aru, was released in March 2024, just seven months before I stopped in Uji for myself, is serendipity. My own trip to Uji started under cloudy skies, and while I had hoped that the day would stay comfortably overcast, a heavy rainfall eventually took over. This made exploration uncomfortable, but also gave me a chance to rest my exhausted legs – Uji had come on the penultimate day of my trip, and by then, I’d been quite fatigued, having spent the past ten days exploring places from Hiroshima to Onomichi. The inclement weather was to my advantage, but I would like to return again in the future.

• Under sunny skies, Uji is indeed quite beautiful, and catching a sunrise or sunset here would be an amazing experience. In any return trip to Japan in the future, I’d probably roll with a one-lens setup: if I’m not shooting any night scenes, the 20-70mm f/4 lens I bought this March would fit the bill. Having gone around to several locations with this G Lens, I’ve found it perfectly suited for everything from landscape to architecture photos. The maximum aperture of f/4 means that low light shots would require a tripod, but for sunrise, sunset, golden hour and daylight photography, I typically shoot at anywhere from f/5.6 to f/11 depending on the photos I’d like to take, so f/4 is more than sufficient for my needs. Running a single lens would make my kit significantly lighter and allow me to move around more easily.

• Watching through Uji ni wa Monogatari ga Aru, familiar locations return, and this time, I watched in the knowledge that I myself had tread these same spots previously. This is Asagiri Bridge, famous amongst anime fans for being the site where Kumiko’s pushed to her limits by circumstance in *Hibike! Euphonium *when Reina hurtfully declares that Kumiko is unfit to be the concert band club’s president. When I crossed this bridge with my friend, that hadn’t even been on my mind – I was too busy trying to figure out where to best take photos and had been looking around for places to rest.

• Byōdo-In Temple is another iconic Uji landmark, and this was the first stop during my day trip. Despite the flat, overcast skies, I still managed a few good photos. I’d been itching to visit Byōdo-In Temple ever since I saw it in Michael Bay’s 2001 film, Pearl Harbour, and while the temple there had been the American replica in Hawaii, it piqued my interest enough that I wished to see the original for myself. In Pearl Harbour, the Doolittle Raid’s B-25 Mitchell medium bombers are portrayed as attacking an industrial area in Tokyo before flying over a steep, rainforest-covered mountain standing behind the temple while kimino-clad women watch. While there was nothing remotely realistic about this scene (as far as I can tell, the Doolittle Raid’s bombers never flew over Uji), the scene was unquestionably cinematic.

• The real Byōdo-In Temple grounds are beautiful and immaculately-kept, and the pond surrounding the temple offers gorgeous reflections of its crimson timber frame. Even on a cloudy day, it’s beautiful, but I’d expect that on a sunny day, Byōdo-In Temple would definitely qualify for being one of the most iconic sights in all of Japan. The events of *Uji ni wa Monogatari ga Aru *are plainly set during April, cherry blossom season, and while this would be a fantastic time to go to Japan for the iconic sight, cherry blossoms and hanami means the crowds are also gargantuan. In Uji ni wa Monogatari ga Aru, after making a wish in Uji, a traveller is sent on a thrilling chase through Uji when a magical rabbit-like creature swallows her smartphone.

• In a story without words, Kyoto Animation uses *Uji ni wa Monogatari ga Aru *to remind viewers that life’s experiences are best seen through one’s eyes, rather from behind the screen of their devices. In a world where people are increasingly glued to their devices, actual enjoyment of life is on the decline as people believe that moments need to be shared. The rabbit’s actions allow the traveller to take in Uji’s best with her own eyes, and here, the traveller passes by the Masuda Chaho. It was pure coincidence that my friend and I stopped here for a break last year: at that point, we’d just come down from the Daikichiyama Observation Deck. After perusing their menu, my friend and I went with the matcha float. On a day that rainy and chilly, a matcha soft-serve hardly seemed appropriate, but I fancied something that combined a drink with ice cream.

• The rich flavours of matcha makes it a delight to have, and a soft-serve ice cream would be excellent on a warmer day, lacking the same biting cold of standard ice cream. As the traveller wanders through Uji, her exasperation at having lost her phone turns into amazement at all of the things present in Uji. Looking back, my Japan trip last year was full of serendipity, and for the destinations I scrapped owing to inclement weather, I more than found my share of pleasant surprises simply by being open to them: besides Matsuda Chaho, featured here in Uji ni wa Monogatari ga Aru, I also would have the fortune to enjoy tea at Teahouse Ichie in Takehara, which was the inspiration for Café Tamayura. Shifting circumstances did nothing to diminish my enjoyment of last year’s trip, and in fact, missing some of the spots I was hoping to check out simply means giving me a ready-made excuse to return.

• If I were to do a return trip purely to cover off the destinations I missed last time, I would structure it so that I would land at Kansai International Airport. This time, I’d take the shinkansen all the way out to Nagasaki and spend two days here. While I would’ve very much have liked to visit the Forest Witch Café, the spot that inspired the Misakino magic shop in Iroduku: The World In Colours, it appears to have been permanently closed. However, the Glover Garden and Glover Sky Road are still present, and Nagasaki itself has stunning views of the town from viewpoints like Mount Inasa Overlook. Combined with the Nagasaki Atomic Bomb Museum, there’s much here to check out, and visiting Nagasaki would allow me to visit both of the cities that were targeted by atomic bombs at the end of the Second World War.

• From here, if time allowed, I’d travel to Kumamoto and make a day trip out to Ashikita: this would probably be another three days. Kumamoto has several castles and shrines worth checking out, and Ashikita is about two hours one way from Kumamoto. Being a smaller town, the journey would be a part of the fun, and I’d probably spend some time exploring some of the spots from Houkago Teibo Nishi before returning to Kumamoto. At that point, my next destination would be Takehara. Having now been to Takehara and having seen the size of the town for myself, I probably would base myself out of Kure (or Mihara again): two full days in Takeahara would be more than enough to take photos of the Warehouse District and attempt a hike up one of the mountains, in the manner Sayomi does. I’d probably add an extra day so I can visit Mitarai.

• My remaining four days (assuming a twelve day trip) would see me in Osaka. Such a trip would be undertaken in either early March or mid October, during the shoulder season – reduced crowds and lower prices make this the ideal time for travellers of my disposition. Back in Uji ni wa Monogatari ga Aru, it becomes clear as the traveller’s romp through Uji continues, her desire to chase her phone rapidly gives way to curiosity and a genuine desire to explore. As this happens, Uji’s modern visitors are slowly replaced by people in more traditional outfits. This moment highlights the blurring of modernity and history, mirroring how Uji has the power to immerse those who visit the city, and Kyoto Animation, being headquartered in Uji, would have no trouble capturing the city’s charms.

• In Japan, the seamless integration of old and new means that visitors really do feel as though they’ve taken a step back in time in some places – during my visit, there were a few places where it felt as though I needed to tread more delicately, and looking back, there’s something about Japanese places that invite quiet contemplation. Last month, I visited Lethbridge’s Nikka Yuko Japanese Garden, and even though I was practically in my own backyard, the aesthetic and tranquility in the garden invited me to slow my pacing down and take in the moment more thoughtfully. This is exactly the sort of atmosphere that makes sitting down and stopping to enjoy a cup of tea so enjoyable. Much as how I stopped for tea and wagashi at the Kinkakuji, a fruit anmitsu in Takehara and a matcha float in Uji, when I was at the Nikka Yuko Japanese Garden, I stopped for a complementary matcha hot chocolate and found the moment to feel identically to how I’d felt in Japan.

• This was an eye-opener and provided concrete evidence that one needn’t travel far to make an ordinary day extraordinary – even a quick coffee break at a local café can break things up and create memories worth remembering. While influencers argue otherwise, there’s plenty to suggest that novelty is strongest when it is judiciously introduced to break up routine, and this indicates that chasing ‘grammable moments aren’t necessary: a simple tea and wagashi slowly savoured under the spring weather isn’t expensive, but it offers a chance for one to appreciate moments that might otherwise pass by.

• One touch I particularly enjoyed in Uji ni wa Monogatari ga Aru* *was how, as the traveller experiences more of Uji, she stops chasing down the rabbit that’d eaten her smartphone and instead, finds herself actively living in the moment. In reality, psychologists indicate that refraining from checking one’s phone helps the mind to be present, rather than wandering, and this helps to improve focus and wellness by allowing one to simply take in what already is. For my part, this is why when I take the train to the office, or when I’ve got a quiet moment at a coffeeshop, I tend to leave my phone in my pocket.

• The last spot the traveller visits in *Uji ni wa Monogatari ga Aru *is the iconic Tale of Genji Museum. Here, she’s stepped into the main display hall, and it’s a faithful reproduction of the museum’s layout and exhibits. Much as how browsing through Cardston’s Remington Carriage Museum sent me on a journey of transportation prior to the automobile, looking at the exhibits in here gave me a glimpse into both one of Japan’s most iconic pieces of literature, and the Heian period, as well. I had come here purely to escape the rain last year, but this detour turned into one of the most unexpected but enjoyable parts of my trip.

• As the traveller walks through the museum, the figures in the exhibits come to life, further blurring the boundary between history and reality to accentuate how in Uji, history is still tangibly felt. Without any dialogue, *Uji ni wa Monogatari ga Aru *is able to tell a very convincing and concise tale of what makes Uji worth visiting, and here, my thoughts flit back to how cartoonist Bill Watterson had similarly succeeded in telling stories and conveying emotions of a moment in Calvin and Hobbes without any dialogue. Such a storytelling approach shows how less is more, and without any spoken words, *Uji ni wa Monogatari ga Aru *would compel viewers to keep their attention on the visuals of each scene.

• Thus, when *Uji ni wa Monogatari ga Aru *crescendos into a fantastical sunrise, viewers gain the impression that visiting Uji is like stepping into a stunning fantasy, one that can be accessed as readily as hopping on a train. By the end of this six minute short, viewers have been treated to what is essentially a lightning tour of Uji and its core attractions. With Kyoto Animation’s usual attention to detail and fluid animation, Uji is brought to life, enticing viewers to stop by and appreciate all that it has to offer, and while this marked the last leg of my trip a year earlier, seeing Uji from this perspective makes me grateful to have added it to my list of stops.

• I certainly wouldn’t have any objections to returning to Uji again, and perhaps a different time of year and itinerary would make such a trip feasible: with first-hand experience in travelling Japan independently, I’ve got a good idea of what to expect and can plan my trip with greater confidence now, so another trip to here, perhaps under brilliant blue skies and gentler weather, is well within the realm of possibility. As it was, Kyoto Animation did an excellent job of bringing Uji to life in Uji ni wa Monogatari ga Aru. Since their release of Hibike! Euphonium‘s third season in 2024, they’ve gone on to produce City the Animation, and next year, their next project, Sparks of Tomorrow, is expected to air. Kyoto Animation has long been renowned as a studio of exceptional quality, one that looked after their staff and produced works of consistently high quality, both in technical and narrative terms.

• This is why I’m especially excited about Sparks of Tomorrow: officially *20 Seiki Denki Mokuroku *(20th Century Electricity Catalog), this is an adaptation of Hiro Yūki’s light novel and follows the chance meeting of two disparate individuals, a young woman from a family of sake brewers, and a soft-spoken man who wishes to realise his brother’s dream of bringing electrical power to Kyoto. I’ve been curious to see this series for some time, and the fact there’s a release date now is exciting: with Kyoto Animation at the helm and a story that looks intriguing, I expect nothing short of excellence from Sparks of Tomorrow. This project’s been known since 2022, so it’s great to see a more definitive timeframe when when Sparks of Tomorrow is expected to air.

• As of this year, Kyoto Animation’s latest film, Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid: A Lonely Dragon Wants to Be Loved also premièred in Japan during June, and while there’s been a North American theatrical release back in October, my local theatre did not run any screenings. There’s currently no news of when the home releases will become available, but I will likely be watching the film after that point. For the present, however, I’ll wrap up my *Uji ni wa Monogatari ga Aru *post and remark that this highly fluid six-minute short fully captures the spirit of Uji. The traveller, after being wholly immersed in The Tale of Genji, returns into the modern world: the letterboxes vanish to signify this, and she ends up catching her hat and catching a glimpse of the young woman she’d shared tea with earlier, suggesting one other person was also similarly swept away by the magic of Uji.

• With her smartphone and hat secured, the traveller continues on with her journey, while a golden bird takes flight, hinting at how another traveller is soon to see and experience the best of Uji for themselves, too. With a full year in the books since my trip to Japan, I find myself surprised at how swiftly the time’s passed, although in the present day, having done such a journey means travelling to Japan no longer feels like a Herculean task: a little bit of planning and a modicum of practical knowledge means I’m more than ready to head back and see what other experiences are possible. While I have no plans to return next year (a trip of this scale requires financial prudence), I expect that there will be points in the near future where I will at least begin daydreaming about a return trip and jot down notes, thoughts that may just end up becoming a reality.

In terms of surface area, Japan is 57 percent the size of my home province, Alberta. Despite this, there remains a lengthy list of locations I’d like to visit, and return to anew. If I were to return to Japan with twelve full days of time available to me, I’d prioritise a return to the Seto Inland Sea region, travelling to Nagasaki to see the spots seen in Iroduku: The World in Colours, and doing a tour of Kyushu, perhaps even doing a detour to Kumamoto and Ashikita, home of Houkago Teibou Nisshi. On such a trip, I would return to Hiroshima and travel to the Shishiiwa Tenbodai on Mount Misen for a view of the city by night and swing by the Maritime Museum in Kure. I’d return to Takehara and appreciate the quiet streets outside of the Shokei-no-Michi Festival, and this time, I’d thoroughly research ferry routes so that I could do a day trip to Mitarai Island, where Maon’s parents ran their family inn. Besides a return to Onomichi, I’d also stop in Fukuyama and Kobe, before rounding out the trip in Osaka. Under a tighter schedule, perhaps around eight full days, I’d concentrate my trip on Tokyo, dividing my time between Tokyo’s most iconic sights and perhaps a day trip to Tsukuba and Kawagoe to visit the spots seen in Koisuru Asteroid, as well as Ooarai in Ibaraki. My best friend would likely appreciate such a trip, since the Sagamihara Vending Machine Park would be an hour away from Tokyo, and he’d previously expressed an interest in checking this attraction out. Alternatively, I’d divide my time between exploring Yamanashi and Tokyo, or even spend that week in Hokkaido on a culinary tour of Japan’s freshest seafood and potentially making a stop at Lake Kiriya, home of Sora no Method. Quite simply, the potential set of destinations for a return trip are nontrivial: if I were to realise all of the trips I’ve described here, it would already give me four reasons to return to Japan. The prospect of a return trip is very tempting, but for the present, I am content to appreciate being able to see the very things that animation studios, like Kyoto Animation, have brought to life in their works: their short, Uji ni wa Monogatari ga Aru brings viewers on a very concise and colourful lightning tour of Uji, following a young woman whose travels here blur the line between reality and fantasy amidst Uji’s historical streets and signature attractions.

Anime: Reflections, General Discussion, Japanese Animation, Operation Usual Scenery Japan, Kyoto, Kyoto Animation, life, life experience, Mihara, Nishinomiya, Onomichi, personal reflection, photography, Sony, Sony A7III, Sony Alpha, Travel, Uji, Uji ni wa Monogatari ga Aru