What should I avoid in Osaka?

Dotonbori is worth seeing — the neon reflections on the canal at night, the mechanical crab legs clacking above Kani Dōraku, the sheer noise of it. But eating there is another matter. The takoyaki stands right along the canal walkway tend to charge ¥800 for eight balls that taste like they came off a production line twenty minutes ago. Walk ten minutes south to Ura-Namba and you'll find places like Takoyaki Wanaka, where the same eight cost ¥500 and the batter is still crisp enough to crack under your teeth. The restaurants with picture menus in four languages and a guy waving you in from the doorway? That's the Osaka equivalent of a Times Square Olive Garden. Locals eat on the backstreets between Namba and Shinsaibashi — narrow lanes with plastic-curtain izakayas where the counter seats eight people and the owner is also the cook. You'll smell the charcoal grills before you see the signs.

Kansai International sits on a man-made island in Osaka Bay, roughly 50 kilometers from central Namba. A taxi will run you ¥14,000–18,000 and take just as long as the train in traffic. The Nankai Rapi:t — that retro-futuristic blue train that looks like it belongs in a 1970s sci-fi film — does it in 38 minutes for ¥1,450 and drops you at Namba Station, which is where you probably want to be anyway. The JR Haruka is the better pick if you're headed to Shin-Osaka or continuing to Kyoto. Worth noting: don't buy a Suica or Pasmo at Kansai. Get an ICOCA card from the JR ticket machines instead. It works everywhere in Japan, but you'll avoid the occasional reader glitch that out-of-region cards still seem to cause at some older gates.

Universal Studios Japan pulls big crowds, and the Express Pass is the difference between riding six things and riding two. On a Saturday or holiday in peak season, the wait for the Mario Kart ride at Super Nintendo World can hit three hours by noon — you'll be standing in a concrete corridor breathing recycled air with several hundred other people. The Express Pass currently runs ¥7,800–13,000 depending on the day, and it sells out weeks ahead for busy dates. Buy it the moment your trip dates are fixed. Shinsekai, the neighborhood around Tsūtenkaku tower, has a similar tourist-trap dynamic. The kushikatsu restaurants right on the main drag tend to charge ¥200–300 per skewer for battered items that sit in oil too long. Walk one block east toward Jan Jan Yokochō — the coating at the smaller joints there shatters when you bite through it, which is the whole point of kushikatsu.

Osaka is one of the safest big cities you'll walk around at night, but the bar touts in Namba and around Amerikamura are the one exception worth knowing about. A friendly, well-dressed person approaches, invites you to a 'private bar' for one drink. The drink arrives. So does a bill for ¥30,000–50,000, and someone large appears near the door. This is the bottakuri — the rip-off bar — and it happens often enough that Osaka police currently post bilingual warnings at Namba Station. Stick to bars you find yourself or that your hotel recommends. On the weather front, June through mid-July is tsuyu, the rainy season. It's not tropical downpour but weeks of warm, sticky drizzle at 80–90% humidity. Your shirt clings to your back ten minutes after you step outside. Pack light, quick-dry layers and expect to duck into covered shopping arcades like Shinsaibashi-suji, which runs about 600 meters and keeps you dry.

Two more things. The fake monk approach happens in Osaka just like Tokyo — someone in robes hands you a 'blessing' bracelet near Osaka Castle or Namba, then asks for a ¥1,000–3,000 'donation.' Real monks don't solicit on the street in Japan. And skip the Osaka Castle interior unless you specifically want the museum exhibits. The current structure is a 1931 concrete reconstruction with an elevator in the middle; if you've been to Himeji Castle, roughly 90 minutes away by train, Osaka Castle's interior will feel like a government visitor center by comparison. The exterior and surrounding park are the actual draw — go late afternoon when the light hits the stone walls warm and gold, and in summer the cicadas are so loud you can hear them over the traffic on Chūō-ōdōri.