On the flight to Tokyo, I happened to glance out the window — and there was Mt. Fuji, right below us. In early March, the mountain was blanketed in thick snow. From 10,000 meters up, the volcanic crater was so crisp it looked like a contour map, with the snow patterns on the slopes and Lake Yamanaka beside it all perfectly visible. I grabbed my phone and started snapping away. This was probably the most jaw-dropping aerial view I've ever captured.
This trip to Tokyo wasn't just a vacation — it was a pilgrimage. The 2026 World Baseball Classic was being held at Tokyo Dome, and Team Taiwan was back on the world stage facing off against the best. As a lifelong baseball fan, there was no way I could miss this.
My first morning in Tokyo, jet lag had me wide awake before 5 AM. Since sleep wasn't happening, I figured — why not go for a run around the Imperial Palace?
One lap around the Imperial Palace is about five kilometers — it's Tokyo's most iconic running route and a holy ground for local runners. It was only about five or six degrees Celsius on that early March morning. I threw on a running jacket and headed out from the hotel along Uchibori-dori toward the palace. The stone walls of the moat wrapped in a light morning mist gave me the feeling of stepping through time.
Along the way, you pass Sakuradamon, Hanzomon, and Chidorigafuchi — each stretch with its own distinct scenery. The cherry blossoms weren't out yet in early March, but the pine trees and the reflections in the moat were beautiful enough to make me forget my aching legs. Near Takebashi, you can see the skyscrapers of Otemachi in the distance — that blend of old and modern is so quintessentially Tokyo. Around 6 AM, Japanese runners started joining in, everyone silently keeping to the same direction (counterclockwise), exchanging the occasional nod — that unspoken camaraderie between runners is universal, no matter what country you're in.
Running through a foreign city in the early morning is my favorite way to get to know a place. Measuring a city with your own feet and breath — nothing feels more real than that.
Pool C of the 2026 WBC World Baseball Classic was held at Tokyo Dome, with Japan, South Korea, Australia, Czech Republic, and our Team Taiwan all in the same group. The schedule was intense — Taiwan played four games in four consecutive days, each one a battle.
The moment I walked into Tokyo Dome, I got goosebumps. Over 40,000 seats were completely filled, and the sea of blue in Taiwan's cheering section was a spectacular sight. When the FAN CAM flashed on the big screen, the crowd went wild — the entire dome felt like a massive pressure cooker about to blow.
Sitting in the stands with friends, a beer in one hand and fried chicken in the other, cheering along with the whole stadium on every great play. Although Taiwan finished 2-2 and didn't advance, that extra-inning comeback against South Korea was hands down one of the most electrifying baseball games I've ever seen in my life.
How can you visit Tokyo without doing the street go-kart experience? We suited up in Doraemon and Pikachu onesies, strapped on our helmets, and a bunch of grown men hit the streets of Tokyo in full force.
Zipping through the streets of Tokyo in tiny go-karts — from Shibuya to Tokyo Tower — pedestrians and passengers in passing cars were all snapping photos and waving at us. When we stopped at red lights, people in the cars next to us rolled down their windows and gave us thumbs up with big grins — this was probably the most insane and hilarious thing I've ever done in Tokyo.
As a sake enthusiast, a trip to Tokyo meant I had to make the rounds. At a specialty sake shop in Ginza, I stumbled upon 十四代 (Juyondai), 獺祭 (Dassai), 新政 (Aramasa), and other legendary labels that are virtually impossible to find back in Taiwan. It felt like walking into the promised land for sake lovers.
At that Ginza sake shop, I finally got the chance to taste multiple expressions of 十四代 (Juyondai) side by side. The Nakadori Daiginjo had an elegant, delicate fruitiness, while the Kurojou offered a deep, lingering rice aroma. Every sip was worth savoring.
Brewed by Takagi Shuzo in Yamagata Prefecture. Often called the hardest sake to buy in Japan — nearly impossible to find on shelves. Rich fruit aromas and a silky smooth palate make it the holy grail for sake lovers.
Brewed by Asahi Shuzo in Yamaguchi Prefecture. With a rice polishing ratio of 39% — more than 60% of each grain is milled away before brewing. Served hana-hie (lightly chilled), it's crisp and subtly sweet.
Brewed by Aramasa Shuzo in Akita Prefecture. The original brewery of the legendary No. 6 yeast. In recent years, Aramasa has revolutionized the sake world with its natural fermentation methods and distinctive bottle designs.
The most precious part of this Tokyo trip wasn't the snow on Mt. Fuji or the aroma of 十四代 (Juyondai) — it was experiencing all of it with a group of great friends.
Screaming our lungs out for Team Taiwan at Tokyo Dome. Laughing until our stomachs hurt while go-karting through Tokyo in Doraemon costumes. Sipping legendary 十四代 (Juyondai) at a sake bar and waxing philosophical about life — these are the moments we'll still be telling stories about years and years from now.