Pokémon rooms are available in 10 MIMARU locations across three cities: Tokyo, Kyoto and Osaka. We are staying at the Ikebukuro site in Tokyo’s Toshima district, which is every bit the neon jungle your mind’s eye might conjure when considering this great city. The well-connected Ikebukuro station is an easy walk away and popular haunts such as Shinjuku, Shibuya and Harajuku can all be reached within a few stops. Ikebukuro itself is a high-energy haunt packed with shopping, dining and entertainment options.
Style and character
Each detail is playfully thought out, with the room surrounded by Pokémon elements from floor to ceiling. (Image: Kate Symons)
Oh, you want character? MIMARU will give you character!
Middle child – a daughter, seven – squeals with unabashed delight as we enter our room, which is decked with the colour and joy of the Pokémon brand. We had kept the unique nature of our accommodation a secret from the kids, hoping for such a reaction. Victory! Pokémon burst across the walls and ceiling via shiny decals, including in the kitchen and bathroom, and the Poké Ball motif features across plates, mugs and more.
A giant Snorlax stuffed toy certainly brings glee to the writer’s kids. (Image: Kate Symons)
Soon, the kids’ attention turns to the enormous Snorlax sitting on the bottom double bunk. He is quickly renamed Bluey – a nod to his vibrant hue – and becomes a soft, cuddly and much-loved part of our stay. On our last day, a mini Snorlax is on our souvenir shopping list – something for Master Three to remember Tokyo by. He still insists on snuggling with Lil’ Bluey each night. A take-home memory that we can all treasure.
Rooms
The fun Pokémon illustrations on the wall make the stay more immersive. (Image: Kate Symons)
Beyond the explosion of fun that hits you on arrival, MIMARU’s Pokémon rooms showcase thoughtful design elements that offer not only a sense of space, but also a sense of place. In our room, the double-bunk – while not an arrangement we’re about to adopt at home – was a playful and practical configuration for a family holiday. The bedroom is also laid with tatami-style mats, traditional Japanese flooring that has an uncanny ability to invoke calm underfoot.
A shoji blind – a traditional sliding screen door – closes the bedroom off from the kitchen/dining area, allowing for privacy, though it was no match for our efforts to quietly fill balloons with confetti and blow them up the night before Miss Seven-Turning-Eight’s (STE) birthday. Thankfully, we only woke up Miss 11, who found her parents’ antics to be ‘cringe’ – a glimpse at our future, I suspect.
Food and drink
Japan doesn’t skimp when it comes to yummy and accessible snack choices. (Image: Kate Symons)
Most MIMARU properties do not have in-house dining, but are equipped with kitchens and utensils, which was perfect for our stay. For meals, we either took advantage of the incredible nearby dining options – sushi, ramen, yakitori, sukiyaki; we didn’t eat a bad meal – or hit up the local 7-Eleven (they’re everywhere) where the snack and meal choices are abundant, cheap and delicious. I could live off their egg salad sandwiches, and Master Three did!
At MIMARU Ikebukuro, the check-in desk was well-stocked with Japanese snacks that kids, and kids at heart, could access in various ways: Show us your kendama (cup-and-ball game) skills? Have a snack. Complete a colouring-in sheet (provided in the lobby’s kids’ corner)? Have a snack. Fulfil the tasks on the tourist bingo card? Have a snack. And, as Miss STE discovered, brazenly include in your colouring-in that it’s your birthday? Have a snack, and another and another and another.
In some MIMARU locations, but not Ikebukuro, you’ll find a coffee counter in the lobby, operated by an external vendor. In others, vending machines
Access for guests with disabilities?
Accessible rooms are available at MIMARU properties across Tokyo, Kyoto, and Osaka. Guests with specific needs are invited to contact the reservations team to be matched with the most suitable room.
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Family-friendly?
Families, especially those with kids, will surely have a blast. (Image: Kate Symons)
I think I’ve made my thoughts clear on this subject. MIMARU’s Pokémon rooms are an excellent choice for parents who crave both space (relatively speaking) and locale, while also keen to inject a little extra magic for the benefit of the tots in tow. A bonus for bigger families, children six and under can often share a bed with an adult, in which case they are not counted towards the room’s occupancy limit. Since Master Three inevitably crawls in with us each night anyway, this was a no-brainer and a money saver.
For further proof MIMARU have families in mind, look no further than ANO-NE, a dedicated kids club (suitable for aged four to 10), the brand launched in Ginza earlier this year.
Details
Best for: Family or group stays
Address: 2 Chome-61-1 Ikebukuro, Toshima City, Tokyo
Cost: Prices start at around JPY 50,000 (approximately $520) per night (tax included), with a maximum occupancy of four guests.
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After youth-led protests in 2025, this year Nepal elected a 35-year-old former rapper as Prime Minister. In a country where tourism is its biggest industry, what’s next for travellers?
In 1986, Nepal changed its clock. It had used India Standard Time since 1920 so, to differentiate, it wound its clock 15 minutes ahead of, not behind, its big-brother neighbour. Boss move. “Nepal is strongly opposed to the idea that our identity is connected to India,” says Community Homestay Network (CHN) guide Bikal Khanal.
Tharu dance is traditionally set to hand drums. (Credit: Kate Lewis)
Today, Nepal is the only independent country with a 45-minute deviation to universal time; an oddity that’s become a symbol of national pride. The quirk is nearly as endearing as Kathmandu’s Tribhuvan airport where carved varnished wood and shiny red bricks rule. One sign points to a ‘Travelator’ and another to a ‘Grievance Handling Desk’ while visas are noisily stamped at customs for US dollars, cash only. When am I?
Spot the endemic Nepal gray langur. (Credit: Simon Urwin)
The 15 or 45 minute anomaly sees me tap out completely on timezone calculations. Why bend my brain calculating if it’s quarter to or quarter past elsewhere when I’m in the honking here and now of Kathmandu where the air is high-altitude crisp, the prayer flags flutter and the street dogs howl?
How tourism is changing in Nepal
Bardiya National Park is rich with wildlife. (Credit: Simon Urwin)
India is not the only association many Nepalis would like to shake. With eight of the world’s 10 tallest mountains, including Mount Everest and Annapurna, Nepal has long attracted mountaineers and trekkers, and expedition numbers are continuing to rise.
Tourism is one of the country’s biggest sources of foreign currency, so this growth is not negative, per se. But according to Ang Tshering Lama, who co-founded Phaplu Mountain Bike Club, being reduced to a mere trekking destination is limiting.
“Trekking is just one layer of our identity,” says Ang. “When it becomes the dominant narrative, it limits how we’re seen and how we see ourselves.” Nepal’s recent success, however, in diverting trekkers to less-trafficked areas such as Manaslu mofuntain, where visitor numbers rose by 117 per cent last year, offers hope that tourism can diversify even more radically.
Local men in Bhada village. (Credit: Simon Urwin)
The founder of CHN, Shiva Dhakal, wants that change. “The whole idea of the Community Homestay Network is to promote experiences outside of trekking,” he says. “Community tourism changes lives and helps kids stay home instead of coming to the city or migrating to the Middle East.”
Ang grew up seeing people leave, “not because they wanted to but because there weren’t enough opportunities to stay”, he states. Yet from remote villages to living traditions; food, art, music and emerging subcultures, “there’s so much that’s not being seen.”
CHN is opening some of those doors. It doesn’t own, or fund, any homes. Rather, it promotes homestays to travellers on a single, slick platform, while fostering entrepreneurship in places where women, marginalised castes, Indigenous people and the youth stand to benefit the most.
A new generation demanding more
Dalla Town Hall, where volunteers discuss anti-poaching tactics. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)
The future prospects of next-gen Nepalis can no longer be ignored. On a Kathmandu tour with 33-year-old guide Monica K.C, we pass buildings torched in the September 2025 ‘Gen Z protests’, including the Supreme Court and Parliament House. Seventy-two people died. “They were anti-corruption protests,” says Monica. “Politicians’ children are living a lavish life but the airports are crowded with youngsters leaving to find work.”
We stop in ‘little Tibet’ at the wondrous sixth-century Boudha Stupa. “The wheel of life is Buddhism in a nutshell,” says Monica. “Things such as hate, ignorance and anger keep you rotating around the wheel, so you must follow the principles of Buddhism to detach. If you can’t, there’s no nirvana for you.”
Boudha Stupa’s prayer wheels are used to recite Buddhist prayers. (Credit: Kate Lewis)
In a sun-drenched twist to the usual temple visit, we ascend the stupa’s sloping plinth and roam its whitewashed dome. Tendrils of diaphanous prayer flags stream from a steeple-like structure where the Buddha’s unblinking eyes stare out. No nirvana for you…
Tibetan-style prayer flags embellish the whitewashed dome of Bouda Stupa, a Buddhist temple. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)
The dome is delightfully free of guard rails or chiding from security. There is, however, a stern ‘No TikTok’ sign, perhaps in response to the youth’s newly flexed power. The booted-out Prime Minister, K.P. Sharma Oli, was replaced in a resounding election victory in March by 35-year-old Balendra Shah of the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) – a former rapper and mayor of Kathmandu. The RSP’s manifesto indicates tourism is a priority, and that Nepal’s cultural identity in areas such as gastronomy will be strengthened.
Vibrant souvenir shops and cafes around Boudha Stupa. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)
A more confronting stop awaits at Pashupatinath Temple. Today is Bala Chaturdashi, a Hindu festival where thousands of devotees gather to honour their dead ancestors. Vendors hauling foam mattresses do a lucrative trade as people set up for a night of vigil. This includes burning the bodies of recently deceased relatives on bamboo pyres in the Bagmati River, which flows into the sacred Ganges.
A woman at annual Hindu festival Bala Chaturdashi, in Kathmandu. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)
Wrapped in a shroud, the bodies are positioned with their heads facing north to the Himalayas where Lord Shiva resides. They’re covered with flowers and straw and set alight by male family members.
Hours later, the ashes are swept into the river where devotees will take a holy dip the next day. As much as Monica assures us it’s not voyeuristic to watch, I struggle to do so. “Here you see the reality of life because everyone ends up there,” she says, gesturing to the river.
Life unfiltered in the Terai region
Tharu woman and master weaver Parbati Chaudhary in Bhada Village. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)
The reality of life needs processing time, which the western Terai region delivers in spades. The Terai is largely separated from India by the Karnali River and Bardiya National Park, where elephants, rhinos and the elusive Bengal tiger roam.
Once a nomadic tribe, the Indigenous Tharu people are now the largest ethnic group here. “They didn’t know their daily life was interesting for international travellers but they’re starting to understand now,” says CHN founder Shiva.
Take a Jeep safari through Bardiya National Park. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)
We fly Buddha Air to Dhangadhi airport and drive five hours to stay in Tharu homes. The journey to Bhada village is a blur of roadside fruit stalls, traffic-stopping sacred cows and fields sown with wheat, rice, mustard, spinach, cauliflower and potatoes. Nepal’s agriculture feeds only Nepal.
Marigolds are an important part of Hindu rituals. (Credit: Simon Urwin)
“The only thing we export is young people,” says our guide Bikal. As the light dims and we plunge evermore rural, mysterious mounds of compacted hay – some house-sized – loom like the creatures from Where The Wild Things Are. Even our trusty driver gets flummoxed by a dirt road that abruptly ends and we find ourselves hurtling across a paddock.
On arrival, some are ferried to mud-walled cottages greened by gourd creepers, with thatched roofs and rustic-chic mosquito nets. Myself and two others are ushered to the home of corner store owner, mechanic and mushroom farmer Man Kumar Chilaruwa and his wife Rajkumari.
A warm welcome at a community homestay. (Credit: Simon Urwin)
They escort us to a bunker-esque back building with steel doors and a folding security gate, behind which is gleaming linoleum, dolphin-printed tiles and a shower cavity that must be gingerly stepped through to reach the toilet.
The ceiling lights emit a rainbow of colours (the bathroom light gets stuck in, frankly, a quite frightening red). We’re nevertheless touched that our hosts invested in all this bling when the average salary is around $275 a month.
In the coming days, we participate in Tharu traditions such as making moonshine, dancing, weaving straw handicrafts and gold-panning. We’re fed well with staples of rice, mustard greens, lentil pancakes, daal, curried chicken and tomato chutney served on antibacterial saal leaves.
Dig in. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)
Sonara community homestay president Indradevi Tharu tells us river snails are often served, and the boiled and pickled flesh of rats hunted in the rice fields. “Perhaps next time?” we say and all have a laugh.
The power of community homestays
Barda community homestay owners Parbati Chaudhary and Ram Krishni Devi Chaudhary. (Credit: Simon Urwin)
Immersing Western visitors in foreign cultural practices is not new. But with the Tharu, I never get that uneasy sensation that I’m being performed for. Despite being the only tourists, there’s no ‘othering’; just warm, composed and ultra-dignified welcomes. Like we’ve always been here.
“I love to have travellers in my village so I can see the world,” says local woman Parbati Chaudhary. “Why would I travel the world when the world comes to me?”
The graceful acceptance the Tharu offer, as well as the slow pace, works miracles on my frazzled nervous system. One day I even take a nap on a vacant homestay bed.
An authentic stay in the Sonara community. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)
Roosters strut and goats bray as we sit on the ground in al fresco kitchens, rolling rice flour into cylinders steamed to make dhikri (dumplings). When water is needed, we fetch it using a hand-operated pump as a family of ducks strolls by, side-eying us like curious neighbours.
Animal lovers will delight in Tharu villages. Kind and resourceful inventions are everywhere, such as snacking stations where two posts lean together, with leafy boughs dangling on rope for baby goats to forage from.
CHN’s CEO, Aayusha Prasain, nods knowingly when one in our group says she cried when she left her host, Shayam Chaudhary, in Bhada. Shayam’s 17-year-old son, Prashant, had translated, which deepened the connection.
“Community tourism turns travel into a relationship, not a transaction,” says Aayusha. “It places decision-making power in the hands of local communities, especially women and youth.” Since 2018, CHN has hosted more than 4000 travellers from 52 countries in 408 households, and estimates women’s participation has increased by 381 per cent.
Elephant watch. (Credit: Simon Urwin)
In the Bardiya community, where vexing human-animal conflict has been a balancing act for decades due to elephants raiding crops, long-time homestay operator Salik Ram Chaudhary says young people keep the older ones on their toes.
Gathering greens. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)
“We can’t keep homestays stagnant,” he says. “We have to upgrade our service and redefine our product or young people won’t see it as an attractive business. If we can keep evolving with this travelling trend we’re confident the youths will stay and continue it.”
Back in Kathmandu, Monica explains that after the deaths of young protestors in September, a determination had spread to not let their sacrifice be in vain. “We want to keep holding the government accountable,” she says. “We don’t know what situation we’re facing, but we’re ready to face it.”
Interested in Nepal but prefer to experience it in total comfort? Read our guide to luxury travel in Nepal.
