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:
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.
