The problem was noise. Osaka needed a new international airport in the 1960s, but residents near the existing Itami Airport were suing over jet noise. The solution seemed elegant: build the airport in the bay, where no one lives. Three mountains of earth were excavated, transported by barge, and dumped into 18 meters of water to create an island roughly four kilometers long and over a kilometer wide. It was the first airport ever built entirely on an artificial island. Construction required an estimated 21 million cubic meters of landfill, and the project became one of the most expensive civil engineering endeavors in modern history, with total costs exceeding $20 billion including ongoing fortification of the island against subsidence and seawater intrusion. On April 19, 2001, the American Society of Civil Engineers recognized Kansai as one of ten structures awarded their Civil Engineering Monument of the Millennium.

Italian architect Renzo Piano designed the main terminal as a single, flowing structure stretching 1.7 kilometers from end to end -- reputedly the longest airport terminal building in the world. Government officials urged Piano to shorten it to cut costs. He refused. The result is a building whose roof mimics the curve of an airfoil, channeling air through the terminal so efficiently that the number of air conditioning units could be reduced. Wing Shuttle trains whisk passengers along the interior, shaving half a kilometer off the walk to distant gates. Below the graceful exterior, the real innovation is invisible: 900 adjustable steel columns support the building, each fitted with jacks that allow engineers to raise individual sections as the island settles unevenly. Metal plates are inserted at column bases to compensate for the sinking. The terminal does not fight the subsidence -- it accommodates it, a building designed to be perpetually corrected.

From this island 40 kilometers south of Osaka, travelers fan out across a region dense with history. The JR Haruka express delivers passengers to Kyoto in 75 minutes. The Nankai rapi:t -- a futuristic-looking train with an insectoid nose -- reaches central Osaka's Namba district in 35 minutes. A high-speed ferry crosses to Kobe Airport in 31 minutes, offering foreign tourists a discounted fare of just 500 yen. Unlike Tokyo's notorious Narita, which sits far inland and serves few domestic routes, Kansai connects to cities across Japan, making it a genuine hub rather than just an international gateway. The airport's low-cost Terminal 2, built without jet bridges or air conditioning, hands passengers umbrellas when it rains and sends them walking across the tarmac to their planes -- a charmingly no-frills operation that keeps Peach Aviation's fares among the lowest in Asia.

From altitude, Kansai International Airport is unmistakable: a precise geometric shape sitting alone in the blue expanse of Osaka Bay, connected to the mainland by the 3.75-kilometer Sky Gate Bridge. The island's two parallel runways stretch across the reclaimed land, and at night the terminal glows like a luminous crescent against the dark water. Across the bridge, the 256-meter Rinku Gate Tower Building -- the fourth-tallest building in Japan -- anchors Rinku Town, a shopping and entertainment complex built to serve the airport. The Sky View observation deck on the island offers plane-spotters a panoramic view of takeoffs and landings, open until 10 PM. Budget travelers appreciate a quieter feature: the terminal stays open 24 hours, and the information desk lends free blankets until 11 PM. In a country famous for meticulous infrastructure, Kansai International Airport stands apart -- an island that should not work, serving a terminal that bends with the earth, built by a nation unwilling to accept that soft clay should stop an airport from flying.