Game Guide Haul in Den-Den-Town

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

Autumn leaves at Ōsaka-jō

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.

Enjoy the pictures!

2024 in comparison

Seeing thousands of DARUMA - Katsuō-ji in Minō: Daruma Temple, Viral Fame & the Reality of Overtourism near Ōsaka

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:

But just like the Daruma itself symbolizes:

perseverance is the whole point.

Goryōkaku Hakodate – Visiting the Star Fortress from Detective Conan

Chasing the Star Fortress – A Visit to Goryōkaku in Hakodate

For many years, Goryōkaku had been sitting firmly on my personal travel bucket list. The famous star-shaped fortress in Hakodate is one of the most recognizable historical sites in Hokkaidō. After seeing it prominently featured in the recent Detective Conan: The Million-Dollar Pentagram film, the urge to finally visit became irresistible.

Naturally, my plan was a little more ambitious than the typical sightseeing stop.

A Drone Flight That Never Happened

I had applied for an official drone flight permit to capture the fortress from above. The geometric perfection of Goryōkaku almost demands an aerial perspective. After all, the full star shape only becomes visible from above, especially a 90°-angle was the idea.

At first, my permit was approved — only to be revoked later, which was honestly heartbreaking, yet it was not revoked by the MLIT itself but by a female administration worker of the nearby tower. Applying at the MLIT is only step one, you need to apply at the town hall of Hakodate as well. Being there only 2 days made it impossible to apply at the townhall and shifting my pre-approved time slot, therefore I did the application process for nothing.

Because of being unable to do a drone shot, I walked around the whole park, took a few shots of the momiji Autumn leaves and practised a little with my DJI OSMO Pocket that I bought in Germany before coming to Japan and my new DJI OSMO 360 that I bought in Akiba just a few days, ago.

One of the main reasons I traveled all the way north to Hokkaidō was exactly that: photographing Goryōkaku from the sky.

To make the trip possible, I purchased the JR East-South Hokkaidō Rail Pass, which allowed several days of Shinkansen travel between Tōkyō and southern Hokkaidō.

Riding the Shinkansen to Japan’s Northern Frontier

The journey itself is already an experience. From Tōkyō, the trains of the Tōhoku Shinkansen continue north as the Hokkaidō Shinkansen.

The fastest service on this route is the Hayabusa Shinkansen, which travels from Tōkyō through northern Honshū before entering the famous Seikan Tunnel beneath the Tsugaru Strait.

This tunnel connects the islands of Honshū and Hokkaidō and remains one of the longest undersea railway tunnels in the world.

The journey from Tōkyō to Shin-Hakodate-Hokuto Station takes roughly four hours, followed by a short local train ride into Hakodate.

Interestingly, the Shinkansen currently stops there. The extension toward Sapporo is still under construction. Traveling from Hakodate to Sapporo therefore requires the Limited Express Hokuto and takes around 3.5–4 hours.

Because my itinerary also included stops in Sendai and Morioka, and the rail pass only allowed a limited number of days, a detour to Sapporo unfortunately wasn’t possible this time.

Anime Tourism: When Fiction Inspires Travel

Hakodate and its star fortress recently gained renewed attention thanks to the long-running franchise Detective Conan, created by Gosho Aoyama.

The 2024 film Detective Conan: The Million-Dollar Pentagram prominently features Hakodate and Goryōkaku as part of its mystery storyline.

Anime tourism has become a powerful cultural phenomenon in Japan, with fans traveling to real-world locations that appear in their favorite series.

Returning to Hokkaidō After Many Years

My previous visit to Hokkaidō dates back to January 2016, during my Working Holiday year in Japan.

At the time I participated in WWOOFing, which led to some unforgettable experiences. One of them involved sleeping in a treehouse during winter with more than one meter of snow outside.

Later I worked in an izakaya at the ski resort of Rusutsu Resort.

During that same winter I also visited the famous Sapporo Snow Festival and even had a surprisingly memorable Tinder date with a traveler from Hong Kong.

Although I would have loved to revisit Sapporo again — preferably at a warmer time of year — the limited validity of the rail pass and my travel schedule simply didn’t allow it.

A Familiar View with a Personal Twist

So yes — the drone flight above Goryōkaku never happened.

And technically the photo I captured is the same viewpoint millions of visitors take every day and every year.

But at least I tried to give it a personal touch.

Using a tilt-shift lens, I experimented with perspective and focus to create a miniature-style interpretation of the fortress. It’s a small artistic twist on a very famous scene. I always try to do some unique shots wherever I go in Japan and at some point there is barely any other way of doing exactly that except by either using a drone or a special lense.

Standing above the star-shaped fortress also triggered a small linguistic joke. Coming from Leipzig, the word Stern inevitably reminds me of Sternburg, a well-known local beer brand.

The idea of a “Sternenburg meets Sternburg” moment is admittedly a funny wordplay — although I should clarify one thing: I actually don’t drink beer at all. In fact, I generally avoid alcohol almost entirely.

So the connection remains purely linguistic.

Still, it felt strangely fitting that a star fortress in Japan would remind me of a Leipzig beer name — even if only as a playful coincidence.

The Disappearing Art of Video Game Guidebooks – And Why Japan Still Keeps It Alive

Why Video Game Guides Still Matter

In the 1990s and early 2000s, printed video game guides were an essential part of gaming culture. In countries like Germany, so-called Spieleberater or strategy guides were widely available in bookstores and gaming magazines. They offered maps, secrets, walkthroughs, and tips for players struggling with difficult levels.

Today, however, these books are often considered obsolete. Online walkthrough sites, YouTube playthroughs, speedruns, and Twitch streams have largely replaced traditional game guides. If a player gets stuck, the solution is usually just a quick search away.

Yet in Japan, video game guides never truly disappeared. In fact, they continue to play an important role—not just as gameplay references, but as cultural artifacts and artbooks.

Japan’s Physical Media Culture

One reason game guides remain relevant in Japan is the country’s strong culture of physical media preservation.

Across cities like Tōkyō and Ōsaka, massive second-hand retail chains continue to circulate physical media on a huge scale. Stores such as BookOff, HardOff, HobbyOff, OffHouse, and Surugaya keep older games, CDs, DVDs, Blu-rays, and books in circulation for collectors and enthusiasts.

This ecosystem supports not only retro gaming, but also the preservation of related media like strategy guides and artbooks.

Not every retro shop is equally recommended, however. The famous Super Potato has increasingly become more of a tourist attraction and influencer hotspot than a practical place for collectors. While the selection is good, the prices are often significantly inflated.

Overtourism and the Retro Market

The impact of overtourism has also reached the retro gaming scene.

In areas such as Akihabara in Tōkyō or Den‑Den Town in Ōsaka, the influx of tourists has pushed prices to extreme levels. What were once collector-friendly districts have increasingly become premium retail zones aimed at visitors rather than enthusiasts.

Even some branches of BookOff—for example the store in Namba—have followed this trend. Certain retro titles, especially from the Pokémon series, are sometimes priced at levels that border on speculation.

Scalpers and resellers have purchased large quantities of these games in recent years, creating artificial scarcity. As demand grew, stores adjusted their prices accordingly. For collectors who remember the earlier retro market, this change is striking.

Game Guides as Artbooks

Despite the changing market, Japanese game guides continue to offer something unique.

Unlike many Western guides that focused primarily on walkthroughs, Japanese guides often function as hybrid publications—part strategy guide, part artbook.

They frequently include:

• original character artwork

• concept sketches from the development process

• detailed maps and world layouts

• item lists and gameplay systems

• developer commentary and lore

For many players, these books are not only tools but windows into the creative process behind the games.

Nostalgia and Personal Memory

For collectors and retro gaming enthusiasts, game guides also carry a strong emotional component.

In my own collection, there are countless guides and artbooks that accompany the games in my retro archive. When revisiting an older title, these books become more than reference material—they reconnect me with memories from childhood and adolescence. Sometimes they remind me of the challenges I had to overcome while playing those games for the first time. At other times they simply evoke a sense of nostalgia or provide a small form of escapism.

Holding the original guide while replaying a classic game creates an experience that digital walkthroughs simply cannot replicate.

Game Preservation in the Digital Era

In recent years, concerns about game preservation have become increasingly important.

The industry is moving toward digital distribution models, subscription services, and limited physical releases. Examples such as key-based physical releases or digital-only titles show how fragile access to games can become. If a game is eventually delisted from online stores, access to it can disappear entirely.

Printed materials like game guides and artbooks therefore become valuable historical records. They document worlds, mechanics, and creative processes that might otherwise be lost.

The Value of Physical Books

The appeal of physical books is universal. Just as many readers still prefer printed novels over e-books, collectors and enthusiasts appreciate the tactile experience of printed guides.

The comparison is similar to vinyl records in music culture: while digital access is convenient, physical media provides a richer and more tangible connection to the art itself.

Events like the Frankfurt Book Fair and the Leipzig Book Fair demonstrate that printed books remain culturally significant even in a digital age.

Video game guides belong within this broader ecosystem of printed media.

A Creative Perspective

From an artistic perspective, game guides and artbooks represent a unique intersection between game design, illustration, and publishing.

They preserve concept art, design documents, and visual storytelling elements that often never appear within the games themselves.

This artistic dimension is also something I personally value in my own creative work. Through my photography projects and Kickstarter campaigns, I have published several limited photography artbooks, including cosplay portrait collections and visual explorations of Japan.

Just like game guides, these books transform digital images into a curated, physical experience—one that can be revisited years later.

Why These Books Should Not Disappear

Video game guides may no longer be necessary for solving difficult levels. The internet has made sure of that.

But their cultural role goes far beyond gameplay assistance.

They are:

• archives of game design history

• collections of artwork and creative ideas

• nostalgic companions to beloved games

• physical artifacts in a digital entertainment industry

For collectors, gamers, artists, and historians alike, game guides remain a medium worth preserving.

And perhaps that is the most important reason why they still matter.

Hiroshima - remembering a tragedy

This day is always tricky for me, because on the one handside it's my birthday and on the other it's the day that might have been the most tragic day in human history.

Today marks the 80th anniversary of one of the most devastating events in human history: the atomic bombing of Hiroshima. On the morning of August 6, 1945, near the end of World War II, the United States dropped the first atomic bomb ever used in warfare over the city. The weapon, nicknamed Little Boy, was released from the Boeing B-29 Superfortress Enola Gay at approximately 8:15 a.m., detonating high above the city center. In an instant, an enormous blast and heat wave destroyed much of Hiroshima and killed tens of thousands of people; many more died later from injuries and radiation sickness.

The bomb exploded almost directly above the Hiroshima Prefectural Industrial Promotion Hall—about 600 meters in the air. Because the detonation occurred nearly overhead, the building’s central structure remained partially standing even though everything around it was flattened. Its exposed steel dome became one of the most recognizable symbols of the bombing. Today the preserved ruins are known worldwide as the Hiroshima Peace Memorial (Genbaku Dome), or simply the A-Bomb Dome. Rather than demolish the damaged structure, the city chose to preserve it as a memorial to the victims and as a reminder of the destructive power of nuclear weapons.

The dome now stands within the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park, an area dedicated to remembrance and peace. Every year on August 6, ceremonies are held there to commemorate those who died and to renew calls for nuclear disarmament. Bells are rung, names of victims are remembered, and a moment of silence is observed at exactly 8:15 a.m., the time of the explosion.

This anniversary also makes me think about my own visit to Hiroshima in the spring of 2024. Early one morning, around 8:30 a.m., I arrived at Hiroshima Castle to do my first drone flight above the castle grounds. The quiet of the morning and the calm atmosphere around the reconstructed castle made the moment feel almost timeless. Standing there, it was hard to imagine that the city had once been almost completely destroyed.

Later that same day I traveled to Miyajima and visited the famous Itsukushima Shrine. I arrived at low tide, when the great torii gate stands directly on the exposed seabed rather than floating in the water. Being able to walk out toward it and capture the scene with my drone offered another powerful perspective on the region—one defined not by destruction, but by beauty, culture, and continuity.

This year’s anniversary carries special weight. Eighty years have passed since the bombing, meaning that the number of surviving witnesses—known in Japan as hibakusha—is rapidly declining. Many of them have spent decades sharing their experiences in the hope that future generations will understand the human cost of nuclear war. The 80th anniversary has therefore been marked by renewed global reflection on the dangers posed by nuclear weapons and the importance of preserving historical memory.

Remembering Hiroshima is not only about the past; it is also about the future. The A-Bomb Dome remains standing not as a monument to destruction, but as a symbol of resilience and a warning. Eight decades later, it continues to remind the world of what happened on that morning in 1945 and why such a tragedy must never happen again.

ShiroCo Chemnitz 2025: Cosplay Photography, Artist Booths & Community Highlights

A Third Year at ShiroCo

With ShiroCo 2025, I attended the convention for the third time in a row — and just like in the previous years, I had my own artist booth there.

For me, this makes the experience quite different from simply visiting as a photographer. Having a booth means being able to present my photography work directly, including my artbooks, prints, and some of my other creative projects such as my Daruma coin series.

It’s always interesting to see how people react to the work in person. Conversations at conventions often lead to unexpected encounters — sometimes with collectors, sometimes with cosplayers interested in collaborations, and sometimes simply with curious visitors who stop by because a particular photo caught their attention.

ShiroCo has therefore become an important event in my annual convention schedule.

How I First Discovered ShiroCo

Interestingly, I first heard about ShiroCo during AniMC 2023. Both conventions share the same organizer — which explains the similar atmosphere and strong community focus.

After learning about ShiroCo at AniMC, I decided to visit later that same year.

That first visit in 2023 immediately convinced me to come back.

Since then, I have attended every year, always with a booth presenting my photography projects.

From Power Plant to Large Convention

While AniMC takes place in the Kraftwerk Chemnitz, ShiroCo is the organizer’s larger and more ambitious convention.

The event has grown steadily and now attracts a much broader audience of fans interested in:

• anime

• manga

• cosplay

• gaming

• Japanese pop culture

Compared to smaller local meetups, ShiroCo feels more like a full convention experience, with multiple program areas, stage events, and a wide range of exhibitors.

Artist booths and merchandise stands fill the halls, while various activities run throughout the day.

One particularly popular program element are the autograph sessions with voice actors. In previous editions, visitors had the chance to meet German voice actors from the anime One Piece and other well-known series. Even though those guest appearances are a highlight for many visitors, my own focus during the convention is usually somewhere else.

Cosplay Photography Remains the Main Attraction

As much as I enjoy presenting my photography work at the booth, the main reason I attend conventions like ShiroCo remains the same:

Cosplay photography.

Conventions bring together a wide range of creative costumes and passionate fans, which creates endless opportunities for interesting portraits and collaborations.

Between managing the booth and exploring the convention floor, I usually try to squeeze in as many cosplay shoots as possible. Even quick spontaneous portrait sessions can lead to surprisingly strong results.

Over the years ShiroCo has introduced me to many new cosplayers, some of whom I later worked with again on other projects.

The Artist Booth Experience

Running an artist booth during a convention adds an entirely different layer to the event.

Instead of simply walking around with a camera, the booth becomes a small exhibition space where visitors can discover my work in a curated form.

This includes:

• photography artbooks featuring cosplay portraits

• Japan artbooks with many of my stories from Hokkaido to Okinawa

• selected photo prints

• and special projects like the Daruma coin series

The coins, inspired by the traditional Japanese Daruma symbol of perseverance and goal-setting, often attract curiosity because they stand out among the more typical convention merchandise.

Many visitors are surprised to see such a combination of photography, artbooks, and collectible coins at a convention booth.

But that mixture of creative projects is exactly what makes presenting them at events like ShiroCo so enjoyable.

A Look Back: ShiroCo 2023–2025

This section is perfect for showcasing some of the most memorable cosplay portraits from the past three years. Comparing the images also highlights how both the convention and the cosplay scene around it have continued to grow.

Community, Creativity, and Continuity

One of the most appealing aspects of ShiroCo is the community atmosphere.

Despite its growth, the convention still retains a welcoming and approachable vibe. Many visitors return every year, which means you often meet familiar faces again.

For photographers and cosplayers alike, this continuity makes it easier to build long-term creative relationships.

Each year brings new costumes, new projects, and new opportunities for collaboration.

Looking Ahead

After three consecutive years, ShiroCo has firmly established itself as a reliable highlight in my convention calendar.

The combination of:

• a friendly community

• interesting guests

• creative cosplay

• and the opportunity to present my own work through an artist booth

makes the event particularly rewarding.

If the past three years are any indication, I will almost certainly be back again next year — camera ready and booth prepared.