Leaving Paradise
We left Hakone just as the sun was beginning to rise above the horizon. The sunrise here was intense, leaving an impression that even now, almost two months later, still leaves me longing.
Most of Japan was still tucked away in warm beds as we drove by beach after beach, the sun climbing higher and higher as we passed by. Every now and again windsurfers or wake-boarders could be seen taking in some morning waves and making the most of such a gorgeous morning.
From within, I felt a longing for Hakone despite having left not more than a few minutes ago. The night we spent in the rooftop onsen had affected me deeply. Not only physically, as I felt that my bones and joints were made new with the hot mineral waters of nearby Mt. Fuji. But also new emotionally. We had talked and laughed and much of what I loved was on the forefront of my mind, not with longing but with a desire to enjoy for them.
We drove along the coast for a while, watching the sun rise and Japan wake from its slumber. Little by little, we were joined on the streets by kei cars, any of the numerous tiny cars that have democratized the automobile industry on the island nation.
We caught what we figured would be our last glimpse of Mt. Fuji as we pulled away from the coast. It would be the clearest and best view of Mt. Fuji that we'd get on our trip. In truth, I am disappointed that this is the cleanest photo I got of Fuji, but what am I to do?
We knew we had a stop before Tokyo, but what that stop was we did not know. Akiko had another of her signature surprises up her sleeve. These surprises had not disappointed yet and we didn't feel that this one would either.
We stopped in Kamakura, beautiful city with the largest open-air Buddha in Japan. We went directly to Kotoku-In temple to visit the great Buddha. it was indeed massive and there was a mass of people gathered to pay respects. I also felt motivated to make an offering and pray for my kids as I spotted a statue of Jizō Bodhisattva and couldn't help myself.
We walked around Komachi Street, in the area surrounding Kotku-In for a while. There were many shops and there were still some gifts I'd been unable to find: a Totoro and Cat Bus figurine for Wes, and Pokemon cards for Link. I was unsuccessful in procuring these gifts, but did find some incredible food. I had some grilled oysters, fresh sushi, and frozen and delicious ice cream. In all, I didn't make many photos in Kamakura, but Tokyo was calling.
It felt like we'd spent only moments traveling when we finally saw Tokyo looming over the horizon. We'd spent quite a while in Kamakura, but having left so early from Hakone, surely we must have spent a good deal of time traveling? Was it interesting conversation? Good company? Beautiful countryside? I don't remember clearly, but I do remember having a fantastic time riding into Tokyo.
The sun was getting low in the sky as we finally transferred highways and entered Tokyo.
I don't prefer this kind of landscape. I like to take my time and compose these type of photos carefully, taking great pains to place foreground elements carefully in relation to the subject far back in the frame. But because I'd been given one last chance to make a photo of Fuji, I had to take the shot.
I don't usually discuss my editing process, but this one required significant work. Using Adobe Lightroom's removal tool, I was able to scrub many pesky reflections from inside the window that I used to take this shot. I also lifted shadows and raised exposure slightly on the kei car that found itself into the bottom left hand corner of my frame. Not much, as a little goes a long way here, but I was left with my favorite photograph of Fuji. Off in the distance, hazy from the distance, and dripping in golden sun, this was how I saw Fuji in my mind before the trip and just as far away as I'd been from Japan with those thoughts. I wasn't sure when I made the exposure, but it's become one of my favorites from this adventure despite not being made withe the same time dedicated. The intentionality, however, is still there. I carefully waited for the vertical foreground elements to frame Fuji and when I noticed the car driving into frame, waited for the right moment to release the shutter. It was an exercise in stepping outside the box and still applying my tried and true techniques. And what's more, it announced our arrival in Tokyo.
Tokyo A-Go Go
What is there to say about Tokyo that hasn't already been said and by better writers than I? My approach then, to this final chapter in my adventure journal will be to simply speak to how I felt in Tokyo. It's the only way to really capture Tokyo anyway.
All big cities are the same. I had said this countless times before I was in Tokyo. I still believe that statement is mostly true, but in Tokyo, the same feels sexier and certainly tastier. Tradition meets modernity in a way that seems impossible. Having travelled throughout Europe, where the same can be said, the seamless amalgamation of the two ideologies is effortless in Tokyo.
While many around the world look at tradition as something to be celebrated in contemporary times, in Tokyo the feeling is different. It's as if tradition isn't celebrated so much as appreciated. Never have I seen a city so willing to acknowledge its past and continue to live in the here and now in such a way. It isn't a hybrid, exactly. In London you'll find streets that are ancient next to those that are modern. This is something different. As if the two coexist in the same space. Simultaneously in the past and in the present, all while looking towards the future.
More than anywhere else in Japan, Tokyo felt like a place where anyone could come and find their own niche. Be it the fashionistas in Harajuku, the consumers of Shibuya, the partiers of Shinjuku, the elite of Ginza, or the hipsters of Golden Gai, there is a place for everyone.
It was almost like being in different cities. All around everyone whipped from one place to the next, seemingly moving at the pace of a DC Comics speedster. But where needed, there was peace and tranquility. Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples coexist with the hustle and bustle of city life. Tokyo breathes and its people move with it.
And it never stops breathing.
When I was a child I thought my dog never slept. She was up when I awoke and she was still up when I went to bed. And she was always wagging her tail when I got home from school. My small and inexperienced mind couldn't grasp that she slept when I slept and almost certainly while I was at school. But I still can't figure out when Tokyo sleeps.
From the time that the sun begins to set there is no measurable change in how the city operates.
Sleep, it would seem, is for the birds in Tokyo. And possibly for family dogs waiting for their young humans to go to school or enter dreamland.
And Tokyo was made for CineStill 800!
When the sun would set, I'd be even more excited to make nighttime pictures of poorly lit bars filled with exciting people. These dark and dingy places were filled with more life than any bar I've ever been to in Miami, at least none that still exist (RIP Churchills). The patrons were fascinating people. Like characters out of a well-written murder mystery, they all had incredibly stories about lives lived in sexy and exciting places. And the bartenders were all professionals, life-long barmen that knew how to sling cold drinks and sly comments.
Without a doubt, this is where I felt most at home in Tokyo. Particularly in Golden-Gai, a district within Shinjuku.
All throughout Japan I'd seen what is expected: most people keeping to themselves, respectful of the public/private space paradigm and keeping a quiet calm. But once the sun set on Golden-Gai, these same people became storytellers interested in my own story.
Like Naoki, and actor we met at a bar that specialized in whiskey. Naoki and his friend, whose name escapes me, were expert level conversationalists, inspiring some of the best conversation I've ever had. We spoke about art, cinema, and photography and the history of each.
Naoki was smitten with my camera, which was what kick started out conversation. I let him play around with it for a while and he made a portrait of me sitting at the bar.
When using manual focus lenses, as I often do, usually the end result of someone else handling the camera is a blurry and out of focus shot. Sometimes only slightly so, but often severely so. But Naoki was a natural. He grabbed the focus ring and made one of the sharpest photos I've ever seen a novice make without so much as a word of advice from me.
The photo itself is also one that is of some importance to me as it's the only photo of just me I have of myself in Japan. A memory, I think, I won't lose any time soon.
Mata Ne
When writing the Star Trek Episode Amok Time, Theodore Sturgeon wrote, "Having is not so pleasing a thing, after all, as wanting." I have found this to be true of so many things in life. Where Japan is concerned, however, it is my opinion that this is impossible. My expectations were high, having built up Japan into this mythical place where perfection was around every corner. And yet somehow that beautiful island and its even more beautiful people not only met these expectations, but exceeded them.
I don't know when I'll be back, but I know that a return is inevitable. Because I've never felt more at home than in Japan. So, this isn't sayonara. That's too final for me. No, this is mata ne.
More photos from Hakone, Kamakura, and Tokyo
All images © 2020-2025 David Ulloa Studio. All rights reserved.


