Getting on the plane to Tokyo was a clue that we were going to a wholly different world. The seats were too narrow. You could get free postcards of the plane – on the plane. The meal came with metal knives. The in-flight entertainment system had a ‘Bird View Camera’ that streamed what was below us (it was actually quite cathartic).
However, only when we touched down did it become clear just how different Japan is. What makes it so much fun, is that Japan has many similar things as the West, but due to their Galapagos Syndrome, everything is slightly – or occasionally bafflingly – different.
Take the airport.
As you go through customs, the fingerprint scanner has multi-coloured pictures of Mt Fuji on it. Having trouble reading your customs form? Why not borrow one of the free reading glasses (much older population here). In addition to signs, the airport has a mascot (more on those in a future post) that guides you through the airport.
After navigating the airport, we headed for the train to Tokyo, where the Japanese version of Dudley Do Right stopped us to inspect our passports. These police were the least intimidating cops ever (like a cartoon version of cops come to life) and sheepishly wished us “a great time in Japan” after taking our details.
Once on the train, it was an hour long ride through the rice paddies and cedar/bamboo forests outside Tokyo to Shinjuku station:
As the jet lag began to wear on us, we found our hotel and checked in. I am always amazed that you can book a trip online in a different continent and then show up weeks/months later and it just works.
If only our bed worked like that; it’s so small that we’re sleeping head-to-toe, but at least the room comes with lots of green tea and free toiletries (toothbrush! razor!).
I digress.
After a cat nap, we rushed out to soak in the Tokyo atmosphere. We immediately came face-to-face with the chaos that is Shinjuku rush hour traffic:
As we wandered the alleyways (Tokyo is a maze of streets drunkenly laid out over thousands of twisting alleys), a cacophony of signs competed for our attention:
None of it made sense. Why was the Louis Vuitton store across from a discount pharmacy? Why could we turn the corner from a major intersection and suddenly find ourselves going down a cedar-lined alley?
Rather than make sense of it, we just soaked it all in. As we hit Kabuki Cho, it almost became too much. I thought I might have a seizure and Wendy ran crazed into the night (or perhaps not).
Salarlymen were eating and drinking the night away while watching crazy Japanese television. Touts offering drinks at girlie bars (we did not oblige. And FYI, I think “Filipino bar” is a euphemism for something else). We had no choice but to leave.
On the way back to the hotel, we stopped for ramen noodles at Shouhei Ra Men. The food was delicious, but we forgot that everyone smokes in Japan while they eat. Made for an interesting combination of flavours.
We also realized that we didn’t know how to end the meal. We waited for the servers to clear our table. It didn’t happen. Finally, we asked and they happily did.
Then we waited for the bill to come. If we hadn’t asked, we’d probably still be waiting.
Payment then became a concern. Do you leave cash on the table? Turned out that there was a cashier downstairs.
Japan: where you need to unlearn every cultural norm you ever adopted.
There was one more bit of the sublime on the way back to our hotel. It turned out that it’s a block away from a shrine that is lit up at night:
And thus ended a 36 hour day and our introduction to Japan.