A sudden drop in temperature. That’s the first thing you notice when you leave Kyoto for the mountains of Gifu. Tonight, the heavy humidity of the former capital feels like a distant memory, replaced by a sharp, crisp breeze rustling through ancient wooden streets.
Welcome to Issue 13. Let's dive in.
01 / THE PULSE - Mountain Air
There is a specific kind of silence that only belongs to Takayama after dark.
Years ago, Natsu and I escaped the June heat of Kyoto for a few days up here, and that cool mountain air instantly rewired my brain.
Walking down these pitch-black alleys, guided only by the warm, amber glow of traditional lanterns and the massive outline of a distant torii gate, you realize luxury isn’t about noise or neon. It’s about having the space to breathe.
02 / THE BREW - Falò Coffee Brewers
If you think deep Japan only runs on green tea and old-school kissatens, you haven't stepped into Falò Coffee Brewers.
Tucked away in a beautifully converted 100-year-old kominka near the historic district, this spot is the definition of grounded modernism. Run by a barista who honed his craft in Melbourne and Kyoto, they bypass the usual dark roasts for exceptionally clean, fruity light roaster profiles (sourced from Weekenders Coffee from Kyoto).
Sipping a pour-over next to their indoor wood-burning stove, surrounded by raw concrete and original earth walls, feels less like a tourist pitstop and more like finding your local sanctuary.
03 / THE SPIN - Michael Kiwanuka, Home Again
Every vinyl in my collection has a precise origin story, but this one is tied to a specific sensory memory.
2018, my second trip to Japan, sitting completely alone in a tiny burger joint in Takayama. The Hida burger was perfect, the streets outside were quiet, and Kiwanuka’s warm, textured soul production was floating through the room.
That exact cinematic moment convinced me to buy the record the second I got back. It’s a timeless, analog soundtrack for slow travels and introspective nights.
04 / THE SIGNAL - Live on the Edge in Yokohama
When architects design for themselves, the results are rarely conventional.
This week, I’ve been fascinated by this breakdown of a 57sqm home in Yokohama by architects Sachiko Kobayashi and Taiga Shiozaki. Built on a literal steep slope, they completely ripped out the floorboards to expose the raw, uneven hillside underneath, creating a multi-level concrete "pit" setup that doubles as a workspace and living area.
It’s a masterclass in embracing architectural constraints to build something entirely organic and intentional.
05 / THE THOUGHT - The Texture of Welcome
While wandering Takayama by day, I captured a moment that stuck with me: a local shopkeeper framed by a dark noren curtain, hands pressed together in a quiet gesture of welcome.
In a world obsessed with frictionless, automated retail, Japan’s streets still rely on these analog interactions.
The curtain isn't just fabric; it's a soft tactile boundary between the public pavement and a curated interior world. It reminds me that true hospitality isn't about seamless tech, it’s about the texture of human presence.
If you enjoyed this week’s curation, the best way to help this journal grow is to share it with a friend who appreciates the slower, more intentional side of design, coffee, and lifestyle.
If you’re looking to take a little breather and wander through Tokyo's charming, quiet lanes, you'll definitely enjoy my latest video
Stay grounded, and see you next week.
-Nicolas
