Day 18: Last Day

We took the morning slowly, the kind of slow you only allow yourself on the final day because you know it’s about to be taken off you like a hotel robe at checkout. No rushing. No heroic plans. Just one last stretch of room-luxury and the quiet satisfaction of not having to pack again, yet.

Lunch was at one of our favourite coffee spots, our little “we’ve been here before” place. Caden went straight for their signature burger. I had a teriyaki chicken toasted sandwich, and we both ordered Vienna coffees that were far too sweet to be called breakfast, but delicious enough to ignore that technicality.

Then we were back on the trains, heading to the Osaka Aquarium.

We bought tickets onsite, which felt slightly reckless, but we took a chance. Turns out we were early for our timed entry and had about an hour and a half to kill.

Luckily, there was a giant Ferris wheel sitting there like a polite dare.

We chose the full-glass cabin, because apparently I enjoy re-learning things about myself the hard way. About thirty seconds into rising, I discovered that I am still afraid of heights. Not “a bit nervous.” Properly afraid. Gripping-the-handrail, eyes-forward, do-not-look-down afraid.

It also made me realise I am absolutely not cut out for the skydiving mission I’m supposed to be doing with Alissa (my eldest) next month. I keep telling myself I’ll be brave. The Ferris wheel politely informed me that I am being delusional.

Caden, of course, was calm. He took photos while I tried to compose myself. There was a little speaker inside the cabin narrating what we could see in three languages, which felt almost comedic given I was too busy negotiating with gravity to appreciate the educational component.

But the view really was incredible. Osaka spread out beneath us. Bridges, water, buildings, the city lit up and moving, like someone had tipped a box of lights across the landscape.

Afterwards we wandered through the mall nearby, which was everything the Mt Fuji “mall” was not. Bright, modern, alive. Food options that looked genuinely edible. Good souvenir and clothes shopping. A Pokémon store. A mini Lego land. It was the kind of place where you could accidentally lose three hours and not even be mad about it.

Time moved quickly, as it does when you’re enjoying yourself, and soon it was aquarium time.

The Osaka Aquarium is designed like a slow descent through the planet. You start up high and follow a spiralling path down through different environments and climates, coastal, polar, temperate, each space shifting in light and temperature and mood. It guides you deeper and deeper until you reach the main feature, a massive central tank themed around the Pacific Ocean, with the path circling it so you can watch the life inside from different angles as you descend.

And it was mesmerising.

We spent far longer than expected at the otters. They were absurdly cute, busy, curious, slippery little comedians. The kind of animals that make you forget you’re an adult with places to be.

We also spent ages with the seals. So much personality packed into one enclosure. One absolute character kept launching himself up onto a little makeshift raft and perching there like he’d been trained for it, chest out, chin up, holding the pose as if he knew we’d all paid to see him. Then he’d slide back in with this smooth confidence, loop around, and do it again, like a performer doing encores for an audience he definitely believed he deserved.

Then the big tank held us. Whale sharks moving with that calm, ancient dignity. Rays gliding like silk. Schools of fish flashing and turning as one body. Sharks cruising through like they owned the place. And a solo sunfish looking slightly confused, as if it had arrived late and missed the briefing.

Penguins were next, we were close enough to see their tiny expressions, waddling with that awkward grace that somehow makes them even more likeable.

By the time we finally resurfaced and stepped back outside, it was night. The area had transformed, lights glowing, reflections on the water, that familiar feeling of Japan becoming even more beautiful after dark.

We had dinner, and ordered some donuts to go (because of course), and made our way back to the hotel full and happily tired.

It felt like a perfect final day, light-hearted, easy, and exactly the kind of ending you hope for.

Tomorrow we fly to Singapore before the last stretch home.

And yes, I’m already mentally booking my next trip.