Tokyo: A City That Broke Us (Gently)
Japan has been on my bucket list for as long as I can remember, and somehow it kept slipping away — until now.
After a six‑hour flight from Kuala Lumpur, we arrived in Tokyo tired, weary, and probably a bit smelly. The exhaustion vanished instantly when we stepped outside the terminal and were slapped in the face by six degrees. A rude awakening after months of sticky Southeast Asia.
Tokyo — the largest city in the world with nearly 40 million people — is a sprawling giant. So naturally, we stayed in a suburb that felt more like a quiet village. Where was everyone? Why was it so silent? Was it national ‘don’t go outside day’. It’s was surreal.
Welcome to Rule‑Land
It didn’t take long to realise that Japan runs on rules. Rules for walking. Rules for queuing. Rules for litter.
This is challenging when travelling with two homeschooled children who treat rules as….suggestions. The sideways crab and prancing horse (see Hua Hin blog for context) were back, but this time they evolved — Pokémon‑style — into monkeys.
Monkeys that:
- Swing from subway handrails
- Sit on the floor of a packed train carriage
- Argue loudly on escalators
- Push each other for sport
It became clear very quickly: we are not city people.
Just getting to the metro felt like a military operation. By the time we reached any destination, we were already exhausted and slightly defeated, knowing we had to do the whole journey again in reverse. Unlike South East Asia, cabs were not a budget-friendly option.
But we cracked on – it was all part of the travel experience after all.
Japan Solves Problems We Didn’t Know Existed
And so, onto Japan’s toilets.
Japan has taken the humble toilet and turned it into a technological masterpiece. Here are some highlights of the toilet problems that they have solved (that I never knew were even a problem):
- More buttons than a spaceship. You need a degree to operate one.
- Three levels of bidet. Choose your own adventure.
- Heated seats. A genius invention that makes you want diarrhoea. Seriously, make sure you take a book.
- Noise‑masking button. Plays running water to hide the sound of you “dropping the kids off”. Volume adjustable, depending on the size of said kids.
- Umbrella hooks at urinals. I’ve never once thought, “If only I had somewhere to hang my umbrella while I pee.” Japan thought of it anyway.
- Baby seats inside the cubicle. Equal parts genius and disturbing. Baby gets a front‑row seat to Dad’s… performance. Maybe this is why Japanese kids toilet‑train early.
And yet, despite all this toilet wizardry, there are no bins anywhere. None. Not even in 7‑Eleven. And still the streets are spotless — like someone licks them clean every night.
Meanwhile, we were carrying around 14 snack wrappers at all times because 7‑Eleven packaging is 90% plastic and 10% food.
Order, Obedience & The Art of Queuing
Other cultural observations:
- Pedestrian red lights: Everyone stops. Even at tiny empty streets with no cars for miles.
- Queuing: People queue for everything. There are even painted lines showing exactly where to stand.
- Metro boarding: No London‑style scrum. No armpit‑in‑face. Just calm, orderly lines. It’s refreshing.
Lost in Translation (and 7‑Eleven)
We tried to embrace the culture immediately. Our first attempt? Trying to get a free cup for juice at 7‑Eleven.
We walked out having accidentally purchased a pack of ten cardboard cups.
My Japanese vocabulary consisted of “Konnichiwa”, “Arigato”, and “Toyota”, so we relied heavily on sign language and apologetic bowing.
The food, however, was excellent — even if the kids reverted to their default setting of “fussy”. Thankfully, every meal came with a sealed wet wipe, perfect for cleaning faces before they resumed swinging from metro handrails.
Tiny Restaurants, Big Queues
Some restaurants had only 6–10 seats, with people queuing politely outside. Inside, diners sat in little booth‑like sections, ate quickly, and left. At lunchtime, queues formed everywhere.
Japan is the only place where queuing feels like a cultural performance.
Tokyo: More Experience Than Sightseeing
We only had five days in Tokyo, and while we visited a few tourist spots, the real joy was simply being in Tokyo. Every corner was a wow‑moment — a mix of futuristic and traditional, Western and utterly alien.
One highlight was the Samurai & Ninja Museum, top of Alex’s list. The 45‑minute tour was brilliant — funny, interactive, informative and full of swords. We even threw shuriken (fake ones). I’m not sure who enjoyed it more, me or the kids.
Alex’s smile disappeared only when I told him it was illegal to import a real shuriken into New Zealand. I can still hear his screams ringing in my ears several days later.
A Night Out & A Blast From the Past
I even managed an evening out with an old school friend — a Tokyo veteran of 21 years whom I hadn’t seen in nearly three decades. We reminisced about small‑town England and he gave me a crash course in Japanese culture. Not the language though. All I added to my vocab was “Mitsubishi”.
The SkyTree Disaster
We attempted one big sightseeing mission: Tokyo SkyTree, all 634 metres of it.
We thought early evening would be quiet. We were wrong.
- 45 minutes queuing for the lift despite booking in advance
- Kids already tired and hungry
- A quick lap of the observation deck – which to be fair was incredible. This city really is gigantic.
- A queue for the second deck that we didn’t dare attempt
- Another 45 minutes queuing to get down
If they’d offered a bungee‑jump exit like Auckland’s Sky Tower, I’d have paid for all four of us.
By the time we got home, after dragging the kids through the streets, their eyes barely open, it was way past everyone’s bedtime.
Onward to Osaka
And so, after five chaotic, fascinating, exhausting days, we boarded our first bullet train to Osaka — just 2.5 hours away.
We’ll likely avoid observation decks for a while. And we’ll try to gather the courage to board more metro trains.
Tokyo didn’t break us… But it definitely bent us a little.
