Into Osaka

Moving through the metropolis. The Manchester of the East, but built to a bigger scale. Rush hour, and dark suits move in columns, to bars and distant homes. A spring wind rushes along the river. A few days ago it was as warm as a hot English day in August. Now, you need a coat. Some 60% of Osaka’s central area was flattened in WW2. When I arrived here a few years ago, the grand buildings had an ’80s feel to them. Those structures are still there, but now, they are augmented by larger, cleaner, towers. I move to the subterranean bar operated by master, professional barman Shoki Sato. He honed some of his craft in a noted London hotel. When you have a drink there, you get that feeling of something a bit special. A sort of Concorde/ocean liner sensation. The attention to detail is everything.