Osaka was ready for its close-up in 2025. It hosted Expo, which attracted more than 29 million people during its 184-day run.
There’s a saying in this bustling food and nightlife mecca – kuidaore. It literally means “to eat yourself bankrupt” or “eat until you drop”. And that attitude permeates the Osakan way of life – to do everything to the full.
That’s on display in areas like Dotonbori, the city’s tourist hotspot. If you’ve seen photos of Osaka at night, there’s a good chance they were taken around here – the Glico Man billboard, the giant animatronic crabs, puffer fish and other novelties outside restaurants, the boats full of merrymakers cruising along the river, the crowds teeming around Ebisu Bridge.
But a little further north, tucked in next to the skyscrapers, department stores and upmarket restaurants of glitzy Umeda, is Nakazakicho, a bohemian neighbourhood that is a maze of walkable narrow streets and alleyways, lined with low-slung, wood-framed, cottage-style houses and buildings.
Much of it looks unchanged from a century ago – that’s because this is one of the few areas in the city that was spared by the firebombing of World War II. But as recently as 2000, due to neglect and an ageing population, this area was a ghost town.
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One man changed that. His name is Jun Amanto.
First stop on my visit to Nakazakicho is Salon de Amanto, a cafe and cultural hub he established almost 25 years ago. You could be forgiven for walking straight past without noticing, as the front is shielded by overhanging vines, but once through the door it’s like entering a somewhat ramshackle but welcoming home, shelves stuffed with books, nooks and crannies and loft areas for sitting and lounging around, coffee, beer and home-cooked food on offer.
Amanto, who is a dancer and actor, first visited Nakazakicho in 2000, and was astounded to find this hidden corner of the city that even many Osaka residents didn’t know about. He opened Salon de Amanto soon afterwards, and convinced other artists, creatives and makers to set up workshops, galleries, cafes and stores in the area, while also encouraging the use of recyclable building materials and consultation with residents so it would be a low-waste, community-led rejuvenation of the neighbourhood rather than rampant gentrification.
Walking around Nakazakicho today, it’s obvious the plan has worked. Old school cafe New Masa exists alongside third-wave joint Osa Coffee. There are vintage stores everywhere, from small shopfronts Tad and Trico to larger, more swish emporiums Pigsty and Vivie. Many of the places I visit are hybrids, such as Arabiq, which is a quaint bookstore, art gallery and cafe.
It’s an arty area – striking murals, paintings and prints hanging on doors and walls, a cluster of galleries and studio spaces called Irorimura under the railway tracks.
I’d read about Gallery Yolcha, punched the name into Google Maps, and was eventually standing in what was meant to be the right spot. It was in a quiet, narrow street but all around me there seemed to be only private homes.
There were three women talking outside one of the houses, so I showed them my phone with the name of the gallery. They shook their heads in confusion. But one finally put her finger in the air and beckoned me to follow her. She led me off the tiny street into an even tinier alleyway, and pointed to a nondescript wooden door. This, apparently, was the place.
Once inside, the ceiling was so low that I had to duck my head. The exhibition was from a family of folk artists from northern Japan and featured works made with animal bones, fur and horns.
I got talking to the owner, Ilbong, who opened the gallery 15 years ago.
“There used to be nothing here in Nakazakicho,” he told me. “It used to be a dark and sometimes dangerous place. Then Amanto opened his cafe. Things changed, and they changed quickly. Now it’s a place where people want to visit.”
He asked me if I wanted to also see the upstairs gallery and directed me to a narrow, steep ladder. I climbed it, and there was a small loft with an even lower ceiling than downstairs, so I sat on a cushion and viewed the striking tribal prints lining the walls.
Minutes ticked by, and I happily sat there in the silence. Not far away, Osaka was thumping. But in Nakazakicho, there was space to breathe and time to contemplate, an oasis of calm in a big, buzzing city.
THE DETAILS
FLY
ANA flies twice daily from Sydney direct to Tokyo, with connecting flights to Osaka; from Perth, flights are daily between December 1 and April 20 and three times a week otherwise. See ana.co.jp
STAY
Koko Hotel Osaka Shinsaibashi is a smart boutique property in the heart of the city, a block from Shinsaibashi’s popular shotengai (shopping street), an easy stroll to bustling Dotonbori, and three train stops and a short walk to Nakazakicho. See koko-hotels.com
The writer travelled to Japan as a guest of Fender, and to Osaka at his own expense.
Barry Divola is a journalist and author who specialises in music, popular culture, the arts, podcasts and travel.Connect via email.


















