I just returned from my second trip to Japan, and never thought I’d say these words until now. For most of my adult life, Japan was something I yearned for – observed through books, films and documentaries, but never quite experienced.

I finally went last Sep on a solo trip, as my 50th birthday gift to myself. And, one year later, I have yet to fully process what I was able to experience in person.

Perhaps understandably, the tourist in me tried to tick-off all the must-see stops, while the traveler in me tried to slow down and fully immerse myself in the culture. There were a thousand small things to pay attention to, if only one took the time… the sound of handling things gently, the way every one queues up every where, the quiet pride seen in a bowl of soba noodles.

Even before I had left the place, I began plotting my return! All those months (perhaps, years) of planning and anticipation deserved another shot, don’t you think?

So I went back last month, this time with my son who just turned 18. Travelling with him was quite an experience, since we had to figure out a balance between a first-time visitor and someone who is returning for more.

Yes, we did repeat some of the must-see sights, but we also ate in tiny places with no English menus, tried things just because they looked interesting, chatted with quirky tourists, and let much of the day unfold on its own.

No, not everything is picture-perfect over there. Japan is orderly and highly efficient, but it can also feel closed-off at times. The language gap is very real, and Google Translate is indispensable. And while some Japanese traditions make you slow down and smile, others take a bit (a lot?) of adjusting.

On one level, you can visit a mall in Tokyo, eat a ramen bowl, buy a few knick knacks, and wonder what the fuss is all about. After all, doesn’t it look like any other destination in South East Asia?

On another level, though, it is a country full of contradictions. Ultra high-tech gadgets coexist with deep-rooted traditions. Fast-paced modern lifestyles compete with time-honored rituals. How can anyone not find such contrasts intriguing?

I think Arthur Schawlow was onto something when he remarked that “Anything worth doing is worth doing twice.“

I look forward to sharing more reflections from both trips in the days to come.