My First Day in Japan: A Love Story with Tokyo!

When I booked my ticket to Japan, I had no idea what to expect. I knew I had bikes to fix and a workshop to run, but my mind couldn’t wrap around what Japan really was. All I knew was that something big was waiting for me.

Fuji San from the airplane

I landed in Tokyo on a gorgeous, sunny day. The air was warm, almost like it was breathing life into the streets. My fiancée, Nada, and I made our way to our cozy little bed-and-breakfast, a tiny spot near the shop I’d rented for my bike repairs. The place was small but comfortable, and I was already blown away by Tokyo’s sheer size and organization. It’s massive, yet everything runs like clockwork.
That first night, we wandered into a tiny noodle restaurant.

 That’s when Japan started to reveal itself. Watching the two cooks prepare our meal was like witnessing art in motion. Every movement was precise, deliberate, and filled with care. It wasn’t just cooking—it was love made edible.

 

 I sipped my first Japanese beer, and when I tasted the food, something shifted inside me. I’ve traveled the world my whole life, but I’d never been this far—mesmerized by flavors that hit me like a revelation. My love story with Japan had just begun.

I couldn’t sleep that night. By 4 a.m., I was wide awake, so I decided to explore the neighborhood. Tokyo never sleeps—24-hour shops glowed everywhere. I grabbed my first Japanese coffee from a FamilyMart, and as I wandered, I noticed how kind and polite everyone was. Their warmth and respect started sinking into me, wrapping around my heart in just a few hours.
Back at the Airbnb, I did my morning meditation and waited for Nada to wake up. Then we headed to the shop to set up for the day. Waiting by the door was Kohei, a sharply dressed young Japanese man I’d been chatting with online. Meeting him in person felt like reuniting with a long-lost brother. Kohei had helped us rent the shop and was eager to learn the art of fixing VanMoof bikes with me. He was my apprentice, my pupil, and from the moment we met, we clicked.

Kohei Suzuki learning the ways

 

We got to work organizing the workshop—arranging tools, setting up the space for the flood of bikes we’d be fixing over the next three days. Watching Kohei, I couldn’t help but feel like a bit of a barbarian next to his precision and tidiness. The Japanese way—kind, polite, meticulous—was sinking deeper under my skin. Despite the language barrier, with translation apps and goodwill, Kohei and I understood each other perfectly. The workshop was ready. We were ready.

Then came our first customer, Sendi-san, a young Japanese guy who brought sunshine with him. We bonded instantly, like brothers from another time. He was thrilled to get his VanMoof fixed, and I was just as excited to work on it. When I handed him his bike, it was like a party broke out in the shop. Sendi-san was over the moon, Kohei was beaming, Nada was glowing, and I felt like I was floating. A special kind of energy was building in that workshop.

Sendy-San and his S3.

As I write this, tears well up. Those moments were so precious. And that was just the first hour. Imagine what the next 30 days held! Japan felt like home in a way I’d never experienced before. I grew up sailing the Caribbean on a 45-foot boat, traveling the Americas, living in the Italian Alps, and settling in Amsterdam. But nowhere—not once—had I felt truly at home. Yet in those first hours in Tokyo, fixing bikes, I knew: this was my city, my place. Not in a possessive way, but in a deep, respectful connection that made my soul sing.

Me and Nada, nothing would be possible without you.

The day flew by, with bikes and customers pouring in. Each person felt like family. Artists, dreamers, kind souls—they all came through, bringing gifts of gratitude and stories that made me feel like I was fixing bikes for the gods. I swear, I wasn’t high; this was just Japan working its magic. Every person who walked through that door was so happy, so grateful, and they made me feel special. 

Amazing Erina.

 

Yosuke and his X3

 

Marcos Garcia, the genious behind the best tacos of Tokyo

 

My Tokyo WorkShop

This was just the first day, the first few hours, and I already knew: Japan was where I was meant to be, doing what I was born to do, surrounded by people who made me feel like the best version of myself. Tokyo, you stole my heart, and I’m never letting you go.