Leipzig Book Fair Preview 2026: Manga & Comic Con Highlights
Every year, the Leipzig Book Fair (LBM) attracts thousands of book lovers eager for author signings, panels, presentations, and literary discussions. While many visitors focus on these traditional offerings, my attention is usually drawn to the Manga & Comic Con (MMC) side of the fair, where Otaku subculture, cosplay, and Japanese pop culture come alive.
Otaku Culture and the Roots of Cosplay
The term Otakudescribes individuals with intense passion for anime, manga, and video games. Sociologist Ōtsuka Eiji and researcher Nakamori Akina have highlighted Otaku as a distinct subcultural identity, combining fandom, aesthetic appreciation, and community participation. In this context, cosplay—short for “costume play”—emerged as a performative aspect of fandom, allowing enthusiasts to embody characters and engage in creative expression. Cosplay itself is now considered both an artistic and social phenomenon, bridging fan activity, fashion, and performance.
I have been attending LBM almost every year since 2004, except during COVID-19 and in 2016, when I was on a Working Holiday in Japan. That year was also when Akira Toriyama, legendary creator of Dr. Slump, Dragon Ball, and character designs for Dragon Quest, made a rare public appearance in Leipzig for a signing session. Toriyama’s work remains foundational for the Otaku subculture, influencing generations with his iconic character design, humor, and storytelling.
2004 also marked a personal milestone: I created my first cosplay costume. I wore a different one—Himura Kenshin—publicly for the first time at a convention in 2005, starting my journey as an active cosplayer.
From Cosplayer to Photographer
Early on, I combined cosplay with photography, starting with a Casio snapshot camera (QV-R52) before moving on to:
Canon 350D DSLR
Canon 750D
Canon 6D II
Canon R5 (my main camera for several years)
I mainly shoot with a Samyang 85mm f/1.4 for portraits and a Canon 300mm f/2.8 for long-distance shots. The latter is perfect for capturing cosplayers in large halls like the Glashalle, where I can maintain the distance needed for cinematic composition.
The Purple Shirt Persona
In recent years, I adopted a second persona alongside my nickname Neko-Lord: the “Purple Shirt Guy”, inspired by my lavender shirt, which I originally wore as a “lucky drone-flying shirt.” Over time, this became a quasi-brand and a creative identity, documented on my blog here.
Looking Forward by looking Backward
Like last year's this LBM in 2026 will host numerous guests and panels. My focus will remain on cosplay photography, particularly in the MMC area:
Shooting at the Glashalle exterior with the 300mm f/2.8 lens
Capturing fullbody shots by using dynamic lighting with minimal interference
Maintaining uninterrupted sightlines for cinematic shots
I expect to photograph 12–16 sets, resulting in roughly 1,200–2,000 photos over all four days.
For many cosplayers, LBM is the first major convention of the 2026 season, despite earlier events like MagC, Dedeco, and AniMC. The fair is an opportunity to:
Reconnect with friends and fellow enthusiasts
Discuss cosplay, Japanese culture, and photography
Meet new cosplayers and potentially recruit participants for my future Cosplay portrait artbook projects
Flashback Moments
Recently, I rediscovered my old Banzai! magazines. Flipping through LBM articles triggered vivid memories: my first cosplay competitions, my early photography experiments, and the excitement of attending a convention focused on both literature and Japanese pop culture.
Why I Keep Coming Back
LBM has become more than a fair—it is a creative playground and personal ritual. Every year brings new inspiration:
Artistic cosplay interpretations
Emerging photographers and costume presentations
Japanese pop culture discussions
Networking with fellow creators
With camera in hand and purple shirt on, I look forward to capturing the essence of Cosplay once again in 2026.
PLACES – A Photography Artbook of Japan’s Beauty (MAKE/100)
Independent photography projects live and die by trust. When you support a photographer on crowdfunding platforms like Kickstarter, you’re not only backing a creative idea—you’re supporting the experience, dedication, and artistic vision behind it.
My newest project, PLACES – A Photography Artbook of Japan’s Beauty (MAKE/100), is the result of years of traveling, photographing, and exploring the visual identity of Japan. The book focuses on the atmosphere, landscapes, and cultural locations that make Japan such a fascinating destination for photographers and travelers alike.
A Limited MAKE/100 Photography Artbook
This project is part of Kickstarter’s MAKE/100 initiative, which celebrates limited creative productions with a maximum of 100 editions. Each copy of PLACESwill therefore be part of a small, exclusive print run, making the book both a photography collection and a collectible art object.
The concept behind the book is simple: capture the beauty of Japan through carefully composed photography—from iconic landmarks to quiet moments that reveal the country’s unique atmosphere.
Instead of focusing purely on famous tourist spots, the project aims to present Japan through the eye of a photographer who values composition, light, and storytelling.
Experience from Previous Photography Artbook Projects
While I may still be considered an independent or emerging photography artist, this project is not my first experience with publishing photo books on Kickstarter.
I already had previous successful campaigns which helped establish the workflow and reliability behind my projects, here are two examples:
Masked – Cosplay Portrait Artbook A MAKE/100 project focusing on artistic cosplay portrait photography, combining costume design, lighting, and character expression.
Japan in Black and White A photography book exploring Japan through monochrome imagery, highlighting architecture, streets, and landscapes through classic black-and-white photography adding written stories to each and every picture therefore sharing the creation of those pictures
These projects allowed me to gain valuable experience in artbook production, printing logistics, campaign management, and delivering rewards to supporters worldwide.
Why Support an Independent Photography Artist?
For independent creators, crowdfunding isn’t just a funding method—it’s a way to build a community around creative work.
Supporting projects like PLACEShelps photographers:
publish carefully curated photography collections
produce high-quality printed artbooks
continue documenting unique locations and cultures
maintain creative independence
In return, supporters receive exclusive, limited-edition photography books that will never be printed in large commercial runs.
Capturing the Beauty of Japan
Japan offers an incredible range of photographic inspiration—from historic temples and modern cityscapes to seasonal landscapes shaped by cherry blossoms and autumn foliage.
Through this project, I want to share the visual diversity and atmosphere of Japan in a curated format that invites readers to explore each image slowly, away from the fast pace of social media.
Photography books remain one of the best ways to experience visual storytelling, and PLACESaims to deliver exactly that.
Support the Kickstarter Campaign
If you enjoy photography, travel imagery, or limited artbook editions, you can support the project here:
Normally the Mag-C in Erfurt would be an easy going event and a great opportunity to use my small smoke machine for some amazing Cosplay shots especially using it in combination with the big curtains next to the main stages because it's perfectly blocking most of the light, so my LED RGB lights are the only relevant source of light and the smoke catches that colorful efffect perfectly...
BUT if you try to update the firmware of your camera the night before the event - just because there is a new sensor shift feature to create massive pictures, which is completely useless for portraits - and your battery fails during the installation process, you are doomed, because you made your cam a giant and very expensive "BRICK" being unasable.
Without a real cam (my CANON R5) going to the convention would be quite pointless, therefore I skipped day 1 completely while trying all day long to "revive" our big brick - it didn't work.
And once again there's a big BUT, because of some sort of "miracle" I was lucky in the morning trying a hard reset for one more time - I had already made a backup plan and prepared my GoPro as well as my DJI OSMO Pocket to be able to make at least a few pictures and capturing some of the convention's flare and impressions - luckily that HARD RESET worked and my R5 had its "REBIRTH", so I didn't need to rely on my small sensors.
The Mag-C originated from Magdeburg, therefore it kept the name but changed the location to Erfurt. It's already my third time and it's always a good mixture of Otaku convention but also fair. The event line-up itself with all those contests and photo opportunities as well as some Cosplay Influencer meet and greets is ok but especially the hall with all those vendors is more and more disappointing but not just at this con, but on all of them. Very often they either offer the same TEMU und Ali Express drop shipping low quality scam or overpriced prize game figures from Japan which were bought in bulk. In Japan those items are mostly cheap and can be obtained at crane games or HobbyOff shops for little money. And the "good stuff" is sold for 3-5+ times of the original price in Japan. That's why I don't buy at any of those booths for years and get my stuff, if I want something, directly in Japan when I do my trips. Normally I always try to find Game Guides or Artbooks with concept art and add some Games for the archive.
At the photo booths they had a nice throne this year, so I am not sad having missed my chances to visit DEDECO this year, because COSBOX is always having a nice Gothic set with a throne-like seat.
For me, the AniMC in Chemnitz has become a small but meaningful tradition. It’s not one of the huge anime conventions in Germany, but that’s exactly why I like it. AniMC is cozy, relaxed, and has a familiar atmosphere that makes it a perfect soft kickoff for the cosplay season each year.
After the quiet winter months, when conventions are rare and many cosplayers are still working on new costumes or recovering from the previous season, AniMC provides a gentle re-entry into the community before things become hectic again. Later in the spring events like Mag-C or the real major season opener, the Leipziger Buchmesse (LBM), will follow. Compared to those large conventions, AniMC feels almost like a warm-up session where everyone can slowly get back into the rhythm of convention life.
Unfortunately, this year the real challenge wasn’t the convention itself.
It was simply getting there.
Deutsche Bahn vs. Winter
The journey to Chemnitz once again demonstrated something many travelers in Germany already know far too well: winter and Deutsche Bahn do not mix well.
My route led via Geithain, which quickly became the center of the travel chaos that day. Delays piled up, trains were cancelled, and reliable information were hard to get. At one point I found myself waiting for over an hour with no clear indication of whether the next train would even run.
The frustrating part is that this scenario feels almost routine. Every year the same pattern repeats itself: once temperatures drop or snow appears, the German railway system seems completely overwhelmed. Whether it’s snow, ice, heavy rain, or even just “difficult weather conditions,” disruptions become the norm rather than the exception.
It’s difficult not to feel a bit cynical about it. Winter arrives every year, yet the railway operator still appears unprepared for it every single time.
Eventually I came up with a rather unconventional workaround to escape the waiting game. Instead of spending another freezing hour on the platform in Geithain, I boarded a train back toward Leipzig, remained seated, and simply rode the same train again when it departed back toward Chemnitz.
It felt slightly absurd — taking a detour in the opposite direction just to move forward again — but it was still faster than waiting endlessly for the delayed connection.
Finally Arriving at AniMC
Once I finally reached Chemnitz, the stress of the journey quickly faded.
AniMC is not a giant convention filled with massive crowds and endless halls, but rather a small, charming event with a welcoming and almost family-like atmosphere. Many visitors know each other, and the overall vibe is far more relaxed than at some of the larger conventions later that year.
For me personally, it marked the official beginning of my cosplay and convention season for 2026.
Over the past months I had mostly been focusing on photography while traveling, particularly landscape photography in Japan. Switching back into convention photography mode takes a bit of time — remembering how to interact with cosplayers, finding interesting photo spots, and simply getting used to the dynamic atmosphere of conventions again.
AniMC is perfect for that transition. It’s busy enough to meet people and see great costumes, but calm enough that everything doesn’t immediately feel overwhelming.
One amusing side effect of modern conventions is something I jokingly call cosplay face blindness.
Some costumes are so popular that you encounter them repeatedly throughout the day. Recently, characters from Genshin Impact seem to appear everywhere. That alone wouldn’t be confusing, but many cosplayers also use very similar makeup styles, wigs, and costume details or simply wear the same product which they bought on the identical webshop, if they don't DIY it.
The result is a strange situation where you see a costume you recognize and briefly assume it’s the same person you talked to earlier — only to realize that it’s actually someone completely different wearing the same character. Especially when the stature seems quite similar from far away.
For a moment you feel slightly disoriented, wondering whether you’ve forgotten a previous conversation or whether you simply mixed people up. It usually ends with a laugh once the confusion clears.
It’s just one of those quirky aspects of modern cosplay culture where certain characters become so widespread that they almost create a kind of visual déjà vu at conventions.
Originally I had planned to stay for both days of the convention. However, given the ongoing train disruptions, I decided to skip the second day entirely.
The journey home already confirmed that this was probably the right decision.
Late in the evening I once again ended up waiting in Geithain, this time stranded in the cold because the S-Bahn simply didn’t arrive. There was no clear announcement about delays or cancellations, and the loudspeakers remained silent while passengers waited and tried to figure out what was happening.
Situations like that are particularly frustrating because they highlight a larger issue: declining reliability and service quality while ticket prices continue to rise year after year.
The Inevitable Comparison with Japan
After spending extended time traveling by train in Japan, the difference becomes almost impossible to ignore.
Japanese railways — from small regional lines to the Shinkansen high-speed network — are famous for their punctuality, efficiency, and extremely clear communication with passengers. Delays are rare, and when they do happen they are communicated immediately and transparently.
Once you have experienced that level of reliability, it becomes difficult not to feel disappointed when returning to the constant uncertainty of train travel in Germany.
Sometimes, during the cold months of January and February, it almost feels easier to simply stay home and avoid the entire system until spring arrives.
Still a Great Start to the Year
Despite the travel chaos, AniMC 2026 still fulfilled its role perfectly.
It was a relaxed, enjoyable start to the convention season, full of friendly encounters, creative costumes, and the familiar feeling of returning to the cosplay community after the winter break.
Now that the first event of the year is behind me, the rest of the season suddenly feels much closer — and the big conventions like MagC and the Leipziger Buchmesse are already on the horizon.
AniMC may be small, but as a cosplay season kickoff, it does its job wonderfully every year.
Searching for the Dragon Quest I & II Game Guide in Ōsaka
One of the final days before returning to Germany was dedicated to a familiar mission whenever I visit Japan: tracking down items still missing from my shopping list. This time, my main objective was a recently released game guide for Dragon Quest I & II.
Since the game had only launched shortly before my trip, demand was still extremely high. As expected with anything related to the Dragon Quest series, the official guide had already sold out in many places. Even large electronics retailers such as Yodobashi Camera Umeda had no copies left.
That meant it was time to try the next logical location.
Den-Den Town: Ōsaka’s Otaku and Retro Gaming District
Whenever you are searching for niche gaming items in Ōsaka, Den-Den Town is usually a reliable destination. The district is often compared to Tōkyō’s Akihabara and is well known for:
retro game shops
anime and manga stores
figure retailers
electronics and hobby shops
Many stores in the area also carry game strategy guides, including both new releases and older publications. Unfortunately, despite checking several shops, the Dragon Quest I & II guide proved surprisingly difficult to find.
Even Super Potato, famous for its retro game collection, didn’t have it. That was not entirely surprising, though—Super Potato mainly specializes in classic titles and older gaming memorabilia, rather than brand-new releases.
Still, the visit led to an unexpected discovery.
The One That Got Away: Zelda Oracle of Ages & Seasons
While browsing the shelves, I came across a strategy guide for The Legend of Zelda: Oracle of Ages / Oracle of Seasons.
For collectors of gaming literature, guides like this can be a fascinating piece of gaming history—especially for older handheld titles.
At first, I hesitated. A moment of indecision that I would soon regret.
Only a few days later, after deciding I actually wanted to buy the guide after all, I returned to the shop. By then it was already gone. It is a small collector’s tragedy many enthusiasts know well: hesitate too long, and the item disappears.
FUN FACT - EDIT: Ironically, after returning home and inspecting my own shelves, I discovered something amusing—I already owned that exact guide. The regret suddenly felt far less dramatic.
A Lead in Namba: Junkudo Bookstore at OCAT
Back to the original mission: the Dragon Quest I & II guide.
After some additional searching, I decided to try larger bookstores instead of game shops. In Japan, chains such as Kinokuniya or Junkudo often carry extensive selections of gaming books and strategy guides. Eventually I found a Junkudo bookstore inside OCAT (Ōsaka City Air Terminal) in the heart of Namba.
Unfortunately, the guide wasn’t available on the shelves there either. However, the staff offered a solution: they could order a copy for pickup in the store.
Communication proved slightly challenging due to the language barrier, but after a bit of back-and-forth the order was placed successfully. The book would arrive within a day or two, if I remember correctly.
Mission almost accomplished.
Rediscovering an Artist: Genso
Before leaving the store, I remembered something else.
Back in 2022, during my semester in Matsumoto, I had discovered an illustrator named Genso. His work immediately caught my attention because of its unique concept: detailed post-apocalyptic illustrations of real Japanese cities.
In his artworks, familiar urban landscapes—Tōkyō, Ōsaka, and other locations—are depicted as abandoned ruins reclaimed by nature, creating a haunting but beautiful atmosphere.
At the time I had purchased one of his books, but I couldn’t remember his name for quite a while. A quick search finally brought it back: Genso.
Interestingly, since my previous visit he had released a new volume focused on Ōsaka and the Kansai region.
Picking Up the Dragon Quest Guide
When I returned to Junkudo to collect the ordered Dragon Quest I & II guide, the staff had to search for it behind the counter for several minutes. Watching the process made me briefly wonder how their internal storage system was organized, but eventually the book appeared.
Of course, I didn’t leave with just one item. Naturally, I also bought the new Genso artbook I had just rediscovered.
Expanding the Collection: More Game Guides
Throughout the trip I managed to add several other Japanese strategy guides to my collection as well.
Among them were guides for:
Romancing SaGa 2 (Nintendo Switch remake)
the original SNES version of Romancing SaGa 2
Japanese strategy guides are often beautifully produced, featuring artwork, developer notes, and extensive gameplay documentation—making them valuable not only as references but also as collectible books about gaming history.
A Funny Twist: Surugaya Strikes Again
Shortly after finally purchasing the Dragon Quest I & II guide, another ironic moment occurred.
While browsing Surugaya, a well-known Japanese second-hand retailer, I suddenly spotted a used copy in excellent condition.
Naturally.
Collectors will understand the situation perfectly: once you finally find something after a long search, it immediately appears elsewhere.
Still Missing: Pokémon Legends Z-A
One guide I hoped to find during the trip unfortunately did not exist yet.
There was still no official strategy guide for Pokémon Legends Z-A available in stores.
This is likely because the game’s DLC content was released very shortly after launch, meaning the publishers probably waited until all gameplay data was finalized before printing a comprehensive guide.
The Pokémon series has a long tradition of multiple strategy guides per game. For example:
Pokémon Scarlet & Violet received separate guides for the main game and DLC/postgame content.
Earlier Pokémon titles often had two different books as well: one covering the story and another focusing on the Pokédex and advanced content.
Sometimes several different publishers release competing guides for the same game.
So it is quite possible that the Legends Z-A guide will appear later.
Final Shopping Memories Before Leaving Japan
Looking back, the search for the Dragon Quest guide turned into a small adventure across Ōsaka’s gaming and bookstore scene.
Between Den-Den Town, retro shops, large bookstores, and unexpected discoveries like the Genso artbook, the final shopping days of the trip once again proved why Japan remains a paradise for collectors of gaming culture.
And sometimes the hunt itself becomes just as memorable as the item you were originally searching for.
Luckily they had this game delivered within one day to Junkudo at OCAT in Namba
Flying a Drone at Ōsaka Castle During Momiji Season
At first glance, that title may not sound particularly special. But if you combine it with flying a drone, it quickly becomes something extraordinary.
For 2025, I had planned to visit a few new places from my bucket list. However, I’ve become increasingly critical of the typical “bucket list mentality.” The fear of missing out (FOMO) has led to massive overtourism in many places. Too often you see long lines of people waiting for the exact same photo spot—not because they truly appreciate the location, but because they want the obligatory selfie for social media or to farm followers.
Still, there are places that are worth experiencing properly.
Applying for a Drone Permit in Japan
Just like in 2024, I applied for permission to fly my drone at Ōsaka-jō.
The first step is applying through the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure, Transport and Tourism (MLIT). The application itself isn’t too difficult, but it’s strongly recommended to submit it at least one month in advance. The review process can take time, and if authorities have questions about your flight plan, you may need to adjust your schedule.
My goal was to capture the famous momiji autumn colors around Ōsaka Castle.
Early Morning at Ōsaka Castle Park
When I arrived very early in the morning at the castle grounds, several sports groups were already there doing morning exercises and gymnastics. Fortunately, they left before my approved drone timeslot began, so they weren’t an issue.
Unfortunately, something else was.
Another drone pilot was already flying in the castle park—without permission. Not only did he ignore the drone regulations, but he also violated several safety rules, including flying directly above people.
Effectively, he had stolen my carefully scheduled timeslot.
Waiting for the Illegal Drone Flight to End
I waited for nearly an hour while the other pilot continued flying until both of his batteries were empty. By that point, I had almost given up on my plan because I originally wanted to capture the sunrise over Ōsaka-jō.
My motivation was pretty low. I also knew that bystanders who had already seen the earlier drone flights might assume that I was responsible for them once I launched my drone.
However, my official permit allowed me two hours of flight time, so I was completely within the rules.
Eventually, I decided to move to my preferred launch spot, the same location where I had started my drone flight back in 2024.
Capturing the Momiji Colors from the Air
Although I missed the sunrise, I was still very satisfied with the results. The vibrant red and orange colors of the momiji leaves created an incredible atmosphere around Ōsaka-jō koen.
The aerial shots and video sequences turned out beautifully, and the autumn colors made the castle scenery even more impressive.
Photography with the Canon R5
After finishing the drone flight, I walked around the park a bit longer. I even tried to find the mysterious “imposter” drone pilot—but of course that was impossible.
Instead, I focused on taking more photos with my Canon EOS R5 using my Samyang tilt-shift lens to create some unique perspective effects.
I also brought my DJI Osmo Pocket, which I’m still getting used to. It’s a great little camera, but it will probably take some time before I start using it regularly.
Searching for Copic Markers in Namba
After leaving Ōsaka Castle Park, I walked to Namba to look for some Copic markers at Hands.
Finding the store was surprisingly confusing because Tokyu Hands recently rebranded to Hands and also moved to a different location inside the mall.
Ending the Day with Pokémon
Back at the hotel, I relaxed for a bit and played Pokémon Legends: Z-A.
After feeling some overtourism fatigue during the previous days, this turned out to be a very productive and rewarding day, capturing new drone footage and photos around one of Japan’s most iconic landmarks.
It’s actually a bit of a shame that I hadn’t visited Katsuō-ji Temple earlier — especially considering how often I had already explored the Kansai region. But eventually, I finally made the trip.
Located in Minō, just north of Ōsaka, Katsuō-ji is widely known as the “Daruma Temple.” In recent years the temple has gained massive international attention thanks to viral social media videos. Many of them focus on the temple’s picturesque scenery and especially the postcard stamp stations, which have become a popular feature for visitors documenting their trips.
But my connection to this area actually goes much further back.
Looking Back: My Working Holiday Year in Japan
My first encounters with the region date back to my Working Holiday year in Japan from July 2015 until June 2016.
That year started rather spontaneously. Originally I had planned to begin with a pilgrimage on Shikoku, but the plan failed on the very first day. Suddenly the six weeks I had reserved for the pilgrimage were completely empty.
So I improvised.
The first replacement for that gap became a ryokan stay in Yufuin, a beautiful hot spring town near Ōita in Kyūshū. That filled roughly the first month. Afterwards I briefly returned to Tōkyō to attend Comiket, before heading south again toward Ōsaka.
For a while I worked with a small company called Radiostock, which specialized in refurbishing retro video games. That experience was surprisingly useful even today: I learned how to evaluate old Super Nintendo (SNES) cartridges, repair certain faults, and identify counterfeit games. The knowledge even helps when spotting fake Game Boy Advance cartridges nowadays.
Later I stayed with friends who were also in Japan on Working Holiday visas. Unlike me they already had a permanent apartment and address, so I could stay with them for about six weeks while continuing to explore the Kansai area.
We went on several trips together — including visits to Kyōto: the Kiyomizu-dera Temple, and the famous Fushimi Inari Shrine. I had actually visited Fushimi Inari earlier that same year with my former partner. We couldn’t reach the summit due to a typhoon warning, but we did manage to visit the Nintendo headquarters nearby, although she didn't like that day and we had an argument at the Fushimi Inari.
One of the trips I had originally planned to do alone eventually became something else entirely.
A Date Trip to Minō
At the time I had been seeing someone named Yuki, whom I met through Tinder. Today people might call it a “situationship,” but back then it simply felt like a spontaneous travel romance.
She lived in Jūsō, so we decided to take a day trip to Minō together on November 30, 2015.
The trip produced some fantastic photos and especially a few memorable GoPro recordings, but there was one small issue: the momiji autumn foliage was already past its peak that year. The leaves had lost much of their vibrant red and orange colors, making the scenery appear slightly duller and less saturated than expected.
Still, it was a great day.
Later that evening we visited her favorite bar. One amusing moment happened when the bartender admitted he had never heard of a “Sex on the Beach” cocktail and had to google the recipe first. The result was… considerably stronger than expected.
But the memory of Minō remained slightly unfinished for me.
Returning to Minō – This Time for Katsuō-ji
Because the autumn colors during my earlier visit were somewhat underwhelming, I always wanted to return to the area. This time my main destination was Katsuō-ji.
Reaching the temple isn’t entirely straightforward. The typical route starts at Minō Station, from where visitors can either take a bus or walk.
The bus only runs once per hour and takes about 30 minutes, with the first departure around 10:00 AM, even though the temple opens at 9:00 AM.
The alternative is more scenic — but also significantly longer. The trail to the famous Minō Waterfall is about 3 km, and from there it’s another 8 km hike to Katsuō-ji, naturally, I chose the long route.
Photography at the Waterfall
My plan was simple: wake up early, take the first train with the Ōsaka Loop Line from Shin-Imamiya to Ōsaka Station, then continue via the Hankyū Line from Umeda to Minō.
The schedule worked fairly well, although I arrived about an hour later than originally planned. At the waterfall I spent much longer than expected — a classic problem when traveling with far too much camera equipment.
My setup included:
Canon R5
Samyang 35mm Tilt-Shift lens (previously used in Hakodate at Goryōkaku)
14mm f/2.8 ultra-wide lens
DJI Osmo Pocket 3
DJI Osmo 360
When you carry multiple cameras and lenses capable of very different perspectives and effects, documenting a location naturally takes time and I am always going to take that time.
The early morning atmosphere was peaceful. Only a few joggers passed by during their morning routine, and for a brief moment the waterfall felt almost untouched by tourism.
That calm wouldn’t last.
A Chance Encounter
While packing my equipment for the long hike toward the temple, I noticed another tourist nearby. She needed a hand to take a proper picture of her and the waterfall, so I offered my help. We started chatting and I quickly realized that we were both from Germany because the typical German accent. Since she also planned to visit Katsuō-ji that day, we decided to continue the hike together.
The quiet mountain paths made the distance pass quickly, and the conversation helped the long walk feel much shorter. But once we arrived at the temple grounds, the atmosphere changed dramatically.
The Reality of a Viral Hotspot
Katsuō-ji was completely overcrowded.
What was most striking was the composition of the crowd: the majority of visitors appeared to be international tourists, while domestic visitors were noticeably fewer. It became clear very quickly that the temple had transformed into something different.
Rather than feeling like a traditional religious site, it felt closer to a tourism machine fueled by viral social media attention.
For me personally, the temple had a different significance.
The Meaning of Daruma
For several years now I have been running annual Kickstarter projects designing Daruma-themed coins, such as my Make-A-Wish Daruma Coin series.
The concept combines Daruma symbolism with the Chinese zodiac animals on the reverse side of each coin.
Daruma dolls originate from the legend of Bodhidharma, the Buddhist monk who founded Zen Buddhism. The iconic round, red dolls symbolize perseverance and determination. Traditionally one eye is filled in when setting a goal, and the second eye is completed once the goal is achieved.
Because of this symbolism, Daruma have become powerful icons of luck, resilience, and ambition in Japanese culture.
Visiting Katsuō-ji — one of Japan’s most famous Daruma temples — therefore felt like an important step in my personal journey as a "Daruma coin designer".
The idea for these coins itself originally grew from my fascination with souvenir coins, which I have collected for years. One example in my collection is the Tokyo Tower 60th anniversary coin from 2018, commemorating the tower’s construction in 1958 — the birth year of my father.
So in many ways, this temple visit felt like a full circle moment.
Creativity vs. Overtourism
Despite the many interesting motifs and photo opportunities, the overwhelming crowds made it difficult to work creatively. I felt strangely restricted — unable to fully explore my usual artistic approach to photography and videography.
This kind of experience is often described as overtourism fatigue.
Instead of feeling inspired, you become irritated, overwhelmed, and mentally exhausted by the constant crowds, noise, and pressure to move through spaces quickly. Even buying a simple Daruma doll or an amulet felt unnecessarily stressful due to the chaos around the sales area. Prices were also noticeably high, though that’s hardly surprising for such a popular destination.
Interestingly, obtaining a goshuin (temple calligraphy stamp) was relatively quick — perhaps because the practice hasn’t yet become fully viral among tourists. However, I do worry that this might change in the future. Some temples have already started handing out pre-printed goshuin sheets instead of stamping them directly into visitors’ goshuin-chō books, partly to manage the growing crowds.
That shift risks turning a spiritual tradition into just another souvenir activity.
Leaving the Temple
Eventually we decided it was time to leave.
And then we did we realize that the temple crounds had become even more overcrowde than it seems when being inside. Outside the entrance a queue over 100 meters long had formed. Our early arrival had clearly been the right decision.
The bus stop was completely overwhelmed as well, and the small temple parking lot was filled far beyond its intended capacity.
So we walked back toward the waterfall, which we had already planned before.
Along the road we briefly spotted a Japanese macaque walking quietly inside a fenced-off ravine — a small but memorable wildlife encounter.
Tourist Chaos at the Waterfall
When we reached the waterfall again, the scene was almost surreal. The peaceful morning atmosphere had completely vanished.
Instead there were massive crowds of visitors pushing toward the waterfall and then squeezing back toward the station along the same narrow path. Anxiety, overtourism fatigue, and sheer exhaustion all combined into a rather unpleasant experience.
Eventually we reached the station area, bought the local specialty — fried maple leaves (momiji tempura) — and said our goodbyes.
Returning to Shin-Imamiya
From there I took the Hankyū Line back to Umeda, then transferred to the Ōsaka Loop Line toward Shin-Imamiya.
Arriving back in my neighborhood felt like an enormous relief. Despite the fascinating subject matter and many good photos, the day left me feeling surprisingly conflicted.
Should I Return?
From an artistic perspective, returning to Katsuō-ji almost feels inevitable. My photography style relies heavily on unique perspectives and carefully composed scenes, and the crowds made it nearly impossible to fully achieve that during this visit.
But the question remains: would arriving exactly at 9:00 AM really make a difference? Given the temple’s viral popularity, the crowds will likely continue to grow.
One interesting possibility might be visiting shortly after New Year, when old Daruma dolls are ceremonially burned in ritual fires. The winter setting could offer dramatic photographic opportunities — and perhaps fewer visitors.
For now, it remains an open question.
Looking Ahead: The Next Daruma Coin
Meanwhile, work continues on my next Daruma coin project for Kickstarter.
The 2026 edition will celebrate the Year of the Fire Horse, and the planned design includes a horse with flaming hooves on the reverse side.Whether the concept — especially the flame details — can successfully move from the design stage to final production remains to be seen. I even left the 2025 Coin at the temple:
