Beneath the glowing lanterns of Shibuya Yokocho, sharing a cramped table with my friends — and suddenly the journey feels softer.

We sat down and ordered a steaming plate of Gyoza. The bottoms were perfectly crisp and bronzed, the savory filling steamy and rich, topped with fresh bean sprouts. Laughter over the savory aroma, the clink of glasses, and the low roar of conversation all around us. Each dumpling was passed around, a perfect, communal bite of comfort dipped quickly in shoyu.

Moments like this always remind me why I love traveling in Japan. It’s never just the flashing signs or the famous landmarks—it’s these tiny, shared flavors, these imperfect, gentle pauses in a crowded alley, that make the road feel a little warmer, and the day feel a little more alive.