One Month in the Land of the Rising Sun | 日出ずる国の一ヶ月間


The trouble is that we have a bad habit, encouraged by pedants and sophisticates, of considering happiness as something rather stupid. Only pain is intellectual, only evil interesting. This is the treason of the artist; a refusal to admit the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain.

Ursula K. LeGuin, “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas”

I may look tired in the above photo, but I was elated. The lighting might’ve been bad. I don’t care. Yesterday was this trip’s one month anniversary. It was also one of its highlights.

Actually, the past three days were all amazing. Not really owing to traditional Japanese attractions and experiences, but rather to the people I got to meet and the fun we’ve have together.

It feels weird to say this after a rocky couple of weeks. I don’t have any bleak thoughts for this post.

The writer in me feels lackluster, while the social creature in me is currently fulfilled. Perhaps the two stand in opposition to one another. Writing is a lonely affair.

7 March 2023

  • 9:37-11:07 Nagoya station to Iseshi station
  • Outer Shrine (30m)
  • 13:25-13:50 Outer Shrine to Oharai-machi bus
  • Okage Yokocho
  • Inner Shrine (30m)
  • 17:05-17:31 Inner Shrine to Outer Shrine bus, 17:34-43 Iseshi station to Futamino station train
  • Meoto-Iwa (30m)
  • 18:33-18:44 Futamino to Iseshi train
  • Rotenburo at hotel

Last night made me miss the futuristic, albeit cold, capsule hotel in Sendai. While I did get the lower bunk this time (I hated going up and down the ladder in my previous accommodations and making noise), I kept smelling an awful stench, and not just in the restroom. The open-floor design was bothersome, too: everyone kept bumping into each other.

When the Japanese guy warned me of capsule hotels and snores, he wasn’t kidding. They should be renamed Snores Galore.

I took my time in the morning. Then I saw that I had a train in 7 minutes, or an hour after that. I sprinted to the station with my luggage and made it to the train at the last minute, sweaty and panting. Thank god Japan Railway I had a JR pass and didn’t need to waste time on buying a ticket.

So no breakfast for me today, either.

The train ride felt extraordinarily long, since I still hadn’t drunk or eaten anything. When I arrived at Ise, I couldn’t see any convenience store at the small station, so I headed instead to the tourist information centre and asked for recommendations.

Ise

The clerk immediately bombarded me with heaps of maps. She drew her favourite spots on them, wrote exactly how to get there (including bus times & platforms!), what to eat, how long to spend at each place, all quickly and deftly. I’d done my fair share of research beforehand, yet gotten so much good advice from her; it just showed how locals gave you a different picture than the internet. Visiting tourist information centres should be mandatory, as far as I was concerned. The clerk reminded me of the receptionist from Kanazawa.

I’d planned to drop my luggage at my hotel and then continue to Ise Grand Shrine (the holiest shrine in Japan), but this would have required a large detour, and the receptionist advised me to store my luggage instead at a clothing shop near the station. The station’s coin lockers were usable until 17:30 (and cost 700 yen), while the shop was opened until 20:00 (and cost a mere 200 yen). This was the kind of tips you could only get from locals.

I looked for the shop, missed it, ended up near the tourist centre at the opposite end of the boulevard, asked them for directions, and a woman promptly offered to guide me all the way to the shop.

Afterwards, I bought a huge croquette filled with all sorts of vegetables, fish, and a quail egg in the center: my first bite of the day. I emptied my bottle. It was hot, so hot that this was my first day in Japan without my big coat.

Outer Shrine

Now came the time for the first of the two grand shrines: Outer Shrine. As always, a visit to the shrine began by purifying my hands at the water fountain. There was a giant torii gate, of course, marking the entrance to a sacred place, only this one was not red, but a stoney gray. Locals bowed upon crossing it, and so did I.

Both grand shrines were in a forest. The road inside was covered in gravel: the clatter of pebbles under shoes was incessant. Multiple stairs led worshippers up to the various shrines that comprised this large complex.

Apart from me, there were no foreigners whatsoever.

The signs lacked English translation. The restrooms, western toilets. There were squat toilets instead.

I prayed twice, using this opportunity to get rid of some 1 yen coins. The older generation bowed the lowest and clapped the loudest. I noticed a couple of priests in puffy white garb and matching hats. Photos were obviously forbidden.

I forgot my goahuincho (stamp book) inside my suitcase. I returned to the store to fetch it, then to the shrine. The priest stamped it by writing the kanji on the spot, instead of giving me a premade piece of paper. Oddly enough, this was cheaper than those premade stamps I’d bought.

Okage Yokocho

Next, I took the bus to Okage Yokocho, a series of traditional streets bustling with shops and people. I saw a few people in kimonos, before trying multiple local specialties:

  • Appetizer: Ise udon at Okada-ya. The thickest, yummiest udon noodles ever, in a black sauce.
  • Main course: Tekone-zushi at Sushikyu. A centuries-old restaurant with tatami mats and floor seats. The first meal in recent memory that I could barely finish.
  • Desert: Akafuku mochi at Akafuku-honten. It was an interesting regional variant, but I didn’t like it much.

All establishments naturally required waiting in line. I left them not feeling hungry for once.

When I entered the first restaurant, I dropped my goshuincho. A Japanese customer next to me kept bowing in horror. That might’ve been a rude accident.

Inner Shrine

From there, I walked to the Inner Shrine.

It was pretty much the same as Outer Shrine. Legend said Amaterasu had once resided there. Worshippers were touching torii gates and certain large trees, bowing and praying. I supposed they believed there was a spirit inside. It made me think of pantheism and the idea that god and nature were synonymous. The divine not being a unique entity, but the world itself.

I left Inner Shrine a bit disappointed. To be honest, I’d expected something holier and more grandiose. Gold embellishments; dwarfing structures; signs with bold letters. Tourists flocking to take pictures. That is what western religion had conditioned me to.

In Shinto, everything was plain and simple. The torii gates were a drab gray; the shrines, mere wood. Glitz and glamour were distractions. To connect to something bigger than you, all you needed was a tree.

Meoto Iwa

On the bus back to the station, I realised I might have just enough time to squeeze in one last thing. I ran to the train, and from there to Meoto Iwa, AKA Wedded Rocks: two rocks in the ocean, one small and the other large, connected by a giant rope.

I wanted to see them before it got dark, and made it the precise minute the sun had set. Seeing the moon rise above the sacred rocks was truly a sight to behold. The impressive rope, the crashing waves – I was surprised by how mesmerising it all felt, considering I hadn’t even planned on coming here. Yet another recommendation courtesy of the tourist information centre.

After a full day of seeing no white people, there were around 5-10 of them there, taking pictures of the wedded rocks with extravagant cameras on tripods.

I peeked at the train’s timetable. It was time for yet another run. Every train I’d taken today, I’d rushed to.

The walk from the station to my hotel took twenty minutes. If memory served me right, this would be the farthest I would stay in this trip from a station. I dragged my luggage through sleepy streets, with minimal streetlights and no light whatsoever inside the houses. I checked my watch to ensure this wasn’t the dead of the night.

My phone battery was at 7%. My charger had died earlier today. Once again, I found myself in the middle of nowhere, with limited battery, and no one around to ask for help in case I got lost. It was unnerving, to say the least. Japan was a land of extremities: old and new, tradition and technological progress, kinky anime and holy shrines, rural towns and megacities. The latter point had been catching me by surprise over and over again. The younger generation had escaped to the cities, where the streets were bright with neon lights, and pavements were overcrowded. In the countryside, I felt on my own.

I made it to the hotel. The first question I asked the receptionist was, “Is there a bus from here to the station leaving tomorrow morning?”

“Yes,” she replied, praise the lord.

After checking in, she informed me of the times of the hotel’s rotenburo.

“There’s a rotenburo?!”

My eyes lit. I hadn’t recalled this feature of the hotel. “Yes,” I thought, “soaking naked in hot water with Japanese strangers sounds like the perfect way to cap off this day.” Was there a support group for people addicted to open-air baths?

I threw my stuff into my room, changed to a yukata, and headed upstairs. I’d only been to a nighttime rotenburo once, my first one in Utoro, which was a small, private bath in a wooden cabin.

Every onsen I’d been to had introduced me to a new atmosphere, and tonight’s was no different. It was on the twelfth floor, on a balcony overlooking the city.

I soaked for five minutes, cooled off on the balcony for five minutes, and so on, for an entire hour. It got boring at times, so I tried to focus on the uniqueness of this experience.

I was standing naked on a high balcony and watching the meagre cars around slowly criss-cross the city. Three quarters of it was pitch-black; there was a stark contrast between the main streets and the residential ones. A train slugged by every half an hour. The full moon shone bright directly above me. A breeze was blowing. It wasn’t cold. More hissing than biting. To my left was the sea, while the rest of the view were dark mountains.

I commanded myself to remember this moment. To savour it. To cherish it. Because where else in the world could you stay in a hotel that offered you this? When else would I have another day like this? The best period of my life had a ticking clock attached to it. It was a rocky path, through vacant streets and winding roads, with ups and downs, ebb and flow, highlights and low points.

I listed all the emotions I’d been feeling. Wonder, surprise, boredom, pleasure, sadness, disappointment, joy, fear, content, regret, loneliness, apathy, pride, jealousy, shame, frustration, hatred, longing. I felt unmoored. When was the last time I’d been through so much? Who knew life could be such a rollercoaster?

The last point dejected me more than it thrilled. It was ludicrous, absolutely ludicrous, how my routine had gone from rock bottom to fantasy. Until it would return to its former state.

In two days, I would celebrate one month of traveling Japan. Without realising the date, I’d booked something expensive and exciting for this day.

Such a celebration could be the happiest of my life. This trip had been the first dream of mine that had come true. Yet thoughts such as the above had been holding me back from engaging in nonstop festivities.

Most days, I had been focusing on the here and now, on my itinerary for the next few hours, what food I should eat, how much money I’d been spending, the people I’d been hanging out with. But then someone would ask, “Do you realise you’ve already been in Japan for an X amount of time?”

“When are you coming back?”

“What are you going to do after this?”

And my head would turn heavy, crushed under a weight that would grow from the back of my mind. My shoulders and arms would tire from carrying heavy bags and a heavier balloon throughout cities and rural towns. And all I would think about would be the end of this trip, the modern world, and the grand scheme of things, and today, about silence and holiness, transcendental spirits, vacant roads, and a vacant heart.

Today’s highlights: Ise’s culinary specialties; the disappointing mundanity of Ise Grand Shrine; running to catch trains and the sunset; not entering a single convenience store for a full day; and the rotenburo with a night view of the city.

8 March 2023

Returning to Nagoya for a Date

Today I left Ise. My time there had come to a close. It was short, but sweet: a great city for a day trip.

The hotel I’d stayed at, despite its distance from the train station, turned out to be fantastic. A cheap, large room on the ninth floor with a double bed; that rotenburo; and a free shuttle service to the station.

I scrapped my plans for today and took a long detour on my way to Osaka, to hang out with a local guy. He was half Japanese, half Brazilian – a cool mixture; and, surprisingly enough, wore a “Hai” necklace (Hebrew for “alive”) that I’d previously seen on religious guys only.

Basically, I returned northeast to go west. It was well worth it, and my JR pass ensured it didn’t cost me a thing.

Too bad it would expire tomorrow.

When I returned to the train station in the evening to book a Shinkansen to Osaka, there was only one seat left, for passengers with an oversized luggage. My luggage was perfectly average. I faltered and then chose this seat, hoping no conductor would notice.

I sat in the back row next to the window, reclined all the way, and watched the night view.

Osaka

My plan was to take a long, local train from Ise to Osaka. Instead, this detour allowed me to board yet another Shinkansen (my fifth one?), which was always an orderly and pleasant experience. Every plane should be like this. Easy, roomy, quiet, with little time spent at the station beforehand. Oh, and, on land.

I reached Shin-Osaka Station in the evening, and transferred to Osaka Station. Both were the biggest train station I’d ever seen.

They were full to the gills with passengers, who barely left any room for walking or standing on the countless platforms. Who knew Japan had so many people?

Oddly enough, everyone here rode escalators on the right-hand side. Literally every place I’d been in Japan had used the left-hand side. As someone who is left-handed, I found this disappointing.

Another surprise was the lack of beeping sound when the light turned green at pedestrian crossings. 

My hotel was a ten-minute walk from the station. I passed lots of spots for street food emitting amazing scents. At some point, I crossed an alley where multiple girls (and some guys, too) stood in front of each and every establishment, holding signs of set meals. This startled me. In the west, if a girl stood in a dimly-lit street and looked at passers-by, it wouldn’t be to advertise a culinary deal.

I checked in, came close to dying of thirst, and bought a carton of milk and a carton of apple juice at the Family Mart next door. Then I saw that the lobby at my hotel featured a free drink bar: water, coffee, tea, orange juice, veggie & fruit juice. I drank four cups of the latter. It was that good.

Finally, I went to bed, knowing full welI I wouldn’t get enough sleep. Tomorrow would have an early start.

I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but I knew it’d be worth it.

Today’s highlight: acting spontaneous enough to drop my plans and hang out with someone I’d been wanting to. I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.

Stray observations:

  • I rode an elevator with a Japanese person. When he went out, he quickly pressed the “close doors” button, so I wouldn’t have to wait more than I needed to.
  • Japan has not heard of whole grains and whole wheat yet. Disappointing and fattening.
  • Half of the western hotels I stay at have a clock above the bed with an alarm function. Super convenient for a person like me, who’s been carrying an alarm clock around so I could turn my phone off at night.
  • This isn’t a recent observation, but in Japan, ‘conditioner’ is called ‘rinse’.

9 March 2023

  • 7:45-8:05 Osaka station to Universal Studios
  • The Wizarding World of Harry Potter (4h)
  • Super Nintendo World (4h)
  • 16:40-17:00 Osaka station train
  • Bar at night

Universal Studios

Today made the fanboy in me the happiest he’d been.

I’d been a diehard fan of Harry Potter and Nintendo ever since I was around 6. Universal Studios featured a bunch of sections, but I only cared about those two. Four hours for each might’ve been a tad excessive, but not for me.

The park was scheduled to open at 8:30. I’d known it was advisable to arrive 1h early. So I woke up at 6:30, but got lost in the labyrinthian Osaka Station. I arrived at the park 30 minutes before opening.

The train wasn’t packed like sardines. Such a description would be an insult to the madness that went on there. At some point I had to stand lopsided on one leg, because there wasn’t room for both.

Then I saw that the park was already open.

The crowd was so excessive, that they probably figured there was no reason to keep everyone waiting. The lines were far-reaching, while theme music was playing. A rollercoaster darted upside down above us, its passengers screaming at the top of their lungs. I felt giddy.

Later I learned that this was a school holiday, hence the absurd hubbub on an early March weekday.

There were lines everywhere. Outside buildings, to join the line inside. In front of juice stalls. If you didn’t wait in line while visiting Japan, you did not visit it.

The first thing I did was head to Super Nintendo World. It was only section in Universal that required a timed entry, owing to its immense popularity. Apparently, all you had to do was open the app and pick a time slot.

The Wizarding World of Harry Potter

It was 8:30. I got 11:40. I had three hours. So I went straight to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter.

I could go on and on about how delightful I’d found it – the music, the decoration, the cosplayers – but then I would never finish writing this post.

Without thinking, I joined everyone ascending to Hogwarts castle. There was a long line, I didn’t know what for, but I stood in it. A family of American tourists (the only other foreigners) told me it lead to the best ride around, and that Florida’s own Wizarding World was even bigger.

Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey was a rollercoaster. Pun intended. Through the castle and Quidditch and the Chamber of Secrets and monsters and a dementor that flew super close to me at some point and sucked my soul. My first time in an amusement park since ninth grade. I kept laughing because it was fun, but also hilarious to hear the characters speak in Japanese.

Since I arrived early, the line took 30 minutes long. Upon exiting, it was 130.

I’d had a small and quick 7/11 breakfast before entering the park, so by 10:30, I was dying. I figured the food at Universal would be overpriced, and worried about the well-being of my wallet.

Second breakfast / early lunch was at The Three Broomsticks. I ate a small yet overpriced plate of fish and chips outside, in front of the lake and the castle. Everything about this moment was beautiful.

(Well, not the greasy food, but the view.)

But my timed entry into Nintendo was fast approaching. I decided to return for the Hogsmeade shops in the afternoon.

Super Nintendo World

Just like Harry Potter, entering the green pipe that led into Super Nintendo World was euphoric. I waited in line for a long time to take a photo with the pipes. The Mushroom Kingdom was abuzz with insane attention to detail, constant sound effects, and infinite colors and joy.

I ate caramel popcorn in the middle of this lively scene. It was lunchtime, and I’d barely digested anything today. Nor did I had anything to drink between 7:00-14:00. All this time, I’d been fueled by the magic in the air.

Slightly re-energised, I infiltrated Bowser’s Castle for the Mario Kart rollercoaster. Solo riders enjoyed a much shorter line. We were given Mario hats and VR goggles, to collect coins and power ups, aim at enemies, and throw shells.

The ride was pure fun. It culminated in Rainbow Road: an explosion of sound effects and color, borderline psychedelic, that made me wonder if this was what being on drugs felt like.

After that, my side bag suddenly began to feel suspiciously light. Had I forgotten my phone or wallet somewhere?

No, a quick search told me, everything was there. It was just my coins that had somehow vanished into thin air.

I visited every shop on the premises, and kept repeating my mantra for today.

“Do I need this?”

“YES”

So I bought a Luigi side bag, to replace my current ugly one. Fashionable AND useful. Then I waited in line for Yoshi’s Adventure – a laboriously slow and juvenile ride, that nonetheless offered great views of the Mushroom Kingdom.

The Wizarding World of Harry Potter… Again

At 15:30, I returned to Harry Potter, watched a Beauxbatons and Durmstrang show led by a Hermione lookalike (who occasionally sprinkled words in Japanese in a heavy British accent), and waited in line for the wand show at Ollivander’s. He was played by an old British man who spoke English and then perfect Japanese.  

The latter show was awfully rehearsed, to the point of being cheesy. They could’ve come up with something a bit more dynamic.

I scoured the Harry Potter shops, but decided I’d already bought enough merch when I was in London. The UK had had a better and cheaper selection.

Exhausted yet content, I returned to my hotel at 18:30. My shoulders hurt like crazy from standing all day while carrying my bag.

Doyama-cho

I spent two hours in bed, planning my itinerary for the next few days. Even though I was tired beyond what was medically normal, I didn’t want the day to end. So I decided on a whim to check out a bar that was a mere seven minute walk from my hotel.

It was small and nearly empty. Most of the time it was just me and the owner – an Australian man who’d been living here for a few decades. He had so many incredible stories to share, that despite my fatigue, I grew immersed in them.

First, his friend had supervised the construction of The Wizarding World of Harry Potter and Super Nintendo World at Universal Studios. The owner told me a few behind the scene secrets.

Second, people like Adam Lambert and Lady Gaga had visited his bar. He was the one who’d given Gaga the idea for ‘Little Monsters’ and the phrase ‘Born this Way’. He even let me touch the lipstick she’d used the night of her visit.

As the night progressed, a few people showed up, nearly all of them from Florida for some strange coincidence. It felt like Florida night at the bar. I met two guys, one from Wales and the other from Florida, who’d also been to Universal Studios today. They were visiting from Tokyo, where they’d start working as actors and performers in Disneyland.

We made plans to hang out the next day. I went to bed at 2:00 with a smile on my face.

Today’s highlights: THE WHOLE DAY! but more specifically: entering Universal Studios; entering Hogsmeade; riding the Forbidden Journey (especially the dementor bit); eating in front of Hogwarts castle; jumping from a Mario pipe; eating caramel popcorn at the bustling Mushroom Kingdon; riding Mario Kart: Koopa’s challenge (especially the Rainbow Road bit); and touching Lady Gaga’s lipstick.

10 March 2023

  • Tenmangu shrine (10m)
  • Osaka castle (30m)
  • Shitennoji temple (30m)
  • Tennoji station to Yodoyabashi station (15m)
  • National Museum of Art, Osaka (1h)
  • Higobashi station to Nishi-Umeda station (5m)

Osaka Castle, Shitenno-ji Temple

Today I woke up at 9:00 and walked for 15m to Tenmangu shrine. A very important one, but pretty underwhelming nonetheless. There wasn’t really anything special about it.

I met the two Disney guys at the castle. The exterior was gorgeous, with its gold embellishments, yet the interior had been completely modernised, and lacked the traditional vibe that Matsumoto castle had boasted.

We ate lunch at a random, lousy place after searching for a restaurant for too long. It was weird how the streets were practically empty. Where was everyone? Where were the tourists? This was a business city. Or maybe we were just not at a foodie neighborhood.

Shitennoji temple was way more interesting than Tenmangu shrine. An extravagant pagoda, cool sculptures of demons, etc. I wish I’d gotten my goshuincho (stamp book) there; they had the best selection of covers I’d seen as of yet.

Finally, at around 17:00, we took the train back north. I had a lot of fun with them, so saying goodbye was sad. They made me want to go to Disney during my upcoming visit to Tokyo and see them in action.

I might do that. It would require a whole day and a lot of money, but the show they’d perform in looked awesome.

My final stop for the day was the National Museum of Art, Osaka. It reminded me of Fondation Louis Vuitton: an architecturally impressive building with small, underwhelming exhibitions. This time of the year, the NMAO presented Picasso, Matisse, Klee, and Giacometti. I’d seen better works by them before, so I was a bit disappointed.

Doyama-cho… Again

At night, I went out to a different bar than last night’s, a 5-minute walk from my hotel. It was just me and Japanese patrons. Most of them were smoking, which I disliked, but I also felt uncomfortable saying something or leaving because of that.

I talked to a couple of guys my age. One of them spoke English well, and told me he’d been to Israel on a business trip. It was nice to chat with them, but you could tell none of us were really feeling it.

Some patrons started singing karaoke (more like yelling off-key), and it occurred to me that I’d been in this land for a month already, and hadn’t tried it.

The songs the two guys chose were kind of lame. “My Heart Will Go On” wasn’t exactly party material. But we did do “Bad Romance” in the end, which was better.

It didn’t go very well – the place was too noisy, and my microphone wasn’t really working – but I liked the fact that I got to try karaoke, and was already looking forward to the next, and hopefully better, time. For now, this became yet another one of today’s highlights.

Today’s highlights: hanging out with the Disney guys; karaoke at night.

The music video for today’s song was partially filmed in Japan. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the singer had chosen this country for it.

I dedicate it to the people I’ve enjoyed spending time with, to the amazing food I’ve tasted, to the places that have given me memorable experiences, and to the natural wonders I’ve witnessed. To everything that hasn’t happened yet, and is bound to come. And, above all, to one land, or rather multiple islands, where dreams can come true.


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