Last summer I went to the World Expo in Osaka. You know how long Japan had been waiting to host one again. I wasn’t going to miss it.
I went for two days. I arrived at the gates as early as possible both mornings. I moved fast, waited in long lines, and hit as many exhibits as I possibly could. By the end of each day I was completely exhausted, blisters on my feet despite good shoes, running on empty.
And here’s what I actually remember.
Not the exhibits, though the France pavilion was worth the hour I waited to get in. What stayed with me were two lunches.
The first day, I wandered into the dining area near the Indonesia exhibit looking for a seat in a completely packed room. A family of three waved me over and offered their empty chair. They weren’t sure I spoke Japanese. I thanked them and we started talking, about the Expo, about where we were from, about nothing important. Before we said goodbye, they told me they felt relieved we could actually have a conversation. I felt the same way.
The second day, I found a seat at a long communal table in a crowded dining hall. Two women sat down next to me almost immediately. One asked where I was from, in English. When I said Oregon, her face lit up. She’d just returned from a trip to Washington. Turns out they’re both university administrators in Osaka. You can imagine we had plenty to talk about, given my work at Oregon State.
I went to the Expo to see the world. The world just sat down next to me at lunch.
Neither of those moments was on my itinerary. They happened because I stopped moving long enough to sit down.
This is what FOMO costs you. Not just energy and blisters. It costs you the unplanned moments that turn out to matter most.
So when you take your next trip to Japan, try this. For each place or region in Japan you visit, choose three things only: one cultural site, one authentic experience, one food per day. Those are your priorities. Everything else is a bonus.
Not because you can’t see more. But because a plan that tight forces you to slow down. And slowing down is how you leave room for a stranger to wave you over to their table.
That’s not something you can put on a list. But it’s almost always the thing you’ll remember.