Experiences – Life – Inspiration 🇨🇭🇯🇵

This summer in Japan has been… wow. I knew it was going to be hot and humid, but honestly, I’ve never experienced anything quite like this before.

By midday, stepping outside feels like walking straight into a wall of steam. The heat doesn’t just warm you up—it pulls the energy right out of you. It’s not just the temperature; it’s the humidity wrapping around you, making every step feel heavy. Back in Europe, summer heat was something you could usually shake off. Here, it’s inescapable.

And it’s not just during the day. Even after sunset, I thought I’d find some relief, but nope. The air still hangs thick and heavy, and even a casual walk in the evening can leave me drained. It’s like the heat and humidity have teamed up to remind me that they’re not going anywhere anytime soon.

What I’ve also discovered is that plain water doesn’t cut it here. I never had to think much about electrolytes back in Europe, but in Japan, they’ve become part of daily life. I keep myself going with iced Pocari Sweat or something similar, and it makes all the difference. It’s like giving my body the recharge it desperately needs just to handle the climate.

Lately, though, I’ve noticed something curious around our home: cicadas lying on the ground, half dead or already gone. My wife told me this usually means summer is coming to an end. I had no idea—that was new to me. Honestly, at first I thought they just couldn’t bear the heat either. Even the mosquitoes seem to have given up; they don’t make it through these scorching days. Somehow, that small detail makes the season feel even more intense—and also a little more alive, because you realize the creatures around us are experiencing this summer right alongside us.

In Japanese culture, cicadas aren’t just insects; they’re the soundtrack of summer. Their loud, constant chorus fills the air from the moment they emerge, and their brief lives—just a few weeks above ground after years underground—have long been seen as a symbol of both the fleeting beauty and the passing nature of the season. When cicadas start to die in greater numbers, it’s a quiet reminder that summer’s peak is over and autumn is on its way.

So, my survival strategy this summer has been simple: avoid going out during the hottest hours, keep things light in the evenings, and stay cool and hydrated no matter what. It’s a new rhythm, but one that’s keeping me steady.

Japan’s summer might be intense, but it’s also teaching me to slow down, listen to my body, and notice the little signs of the season shifting. Maybe by the end of this, I’ll not just survive summer in Japan—I’ll actually be grateful for what it taught me.