I Got Stabbed in Japan
Welcome to my random musings about the world, on a weekly-to-occasional basis.
Where we are: We’re still in Dubai. Things just work here—it’s sleek and modern and organized. The weather is perfect at this time of year. The food is delicious and the malls are glamorous. I’m very happy to be staying put for a few weeks. I wrote this a couple of months ago, around New Year’s.
I Got Stabbed in Japan
Here at the dawn of 2024, I suspect some of you are starting to plan a big trip for the coming year. If last year’s travel trends are any predictor, I also suspect Japan is high on the wish-list for more than a few of you. And I’m writing this in Kathmandu, which is basically the opposite of Japan in every way, so I’ve been sifting through my memories of our time there last year, as sort of an antidote. I thought I’d sum up a few of those memories/lessons, in case they might be of use to any of you who are planning a Japan trip this year.
Forthwith, ten travel tips for Tokyo—the highly personal what’s-important-to-Lisa version:
If you buy a bento box (or two pieces of inari sushi and a giant bowl of salad) at a depachika (department store), there’s usually a place somewhere that you can sit to eat it. Sometimes there’s even a beautiful rooftop garden. Just ask (I ask before I buy, just to be on the safe side).
The public toilets are fine everywhere—no need to seek out a Starbucks or hotel. Even the toilets in metro stations and on trains—perfectly fine. Probably nicer than any toilet you’ve ever used in the US, because washlets. (If you don’t yet know what a Japanese washlet is, stop reading right this very second and google it. Then buy one. I’M NOT KIDDING.)
Google Maps works really well for transit in Tokyo.
Related: the metro stations in Tokyo are numbered. It took us a couple of weeks (on our THIRD visit) to figure this out, but on the sign in each station, the name is written in big letters, and the number is in a little circle. Same on Google maps. With my inability to make sense of Japanese place names, I find it much easier to navigate by number.
Almost (not quite all, but almost all) vending machines have a recycling bin. Stand there, consume what you purchased, and put the container in the bin. Trust me on this: if you carry that bottle or can away from the machine, you won’t be able to find another bin.
Laundromats are amazing—and in 2 months, we never needed to add soap. It’s added automatically. Throw in your laundry, close the door, press the button that looks like it might mean start. Or use Google translate, if you want to be certain. Just … be sure to close the door carefully. You wouldn’t want to *cough* flood the laundromat.
There is an agency that will buy baseball tickets for foreigners, because buying your own on the website is pretty much impossible. And you should definitely go to a baseball game.
In restaurants, even the tiniest or most casual, there’s always a basket for putting your purse or bag into, or a hook, but the hook is sometimes in an unobtrusive place, so look for it. You can also put your umbrella there, nicely wrapped in plastic if it’s raining, or just tidily closed if it’s not. Because you did buy a Japanese umbrella, didn’t you?
Also related: buy an umbrella while you’re in Japan. Mine is UV-blocking, and reduces the ambient temperature by four degrees. Yes, I’m more interested in staying cool than staying dry (but it does that too). Mine is also covered in purple flowers, which makes it one hundred percent better than yours, plus it fits in my purse.
In conveyor-belt sushi places (which work perfectly well for vegetarians, fyi), there is often a tap at your seat that dispenses hot water. Green tea powder is in a pretty little lacquered box. Mix it yourself.
Amazon Japan works brilliantly; you can specify pick-up at a convenience store. It’s so … convenient.
7-11 has a payment machine that you can just dump your change into and it sorts it. The screen tells you how much more you need to add. It’s the easiest way to manage the pile of coins you’ll accumulate.
At Uniqlo, you can pay by just putting your basket on the self-checkout counter. The machine automatically knows what you’ve bought—no tedious scanning required. It’s like magic. I may have bought things just for the joy of seeing that technological miracle in action.
At the bakery, you take a tray and a pair of tongs by the door, use the tongs to put what you want on the tray, then take the tray to the cashier. Do NOT put the tongs back on the rack by the door; leave them on your tray.
It is normal to seat diners at tables with more seats than they need—this drove Lee a little crazy (he hates using more seats than we need), but I loved it.
Don’t crush the chopstick wrapper into a ball—there might be a toothpick inside. I have the stab mark in my palm to prove it.
Use your inside voice. One of my very favorite things about Japan is the culture of quietness. It’s the best country in the world for an introvert, so put a book on your phone and embrace the respite from American volume.
And finally, just because no one points out your rudeness doesn’t mean you aren’t being rude. It’s just that it would be rude to point it out, and rudeness is to be avoided.
Take care,
Lisa
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