From Ramen to Ryokan: Travelling Around Japan
Lessons and Tales
My brother and I set off on a journey across the world to a country whose people, hospitality, and respect amazed us. From vending machines selling meat, tamed deer, kind strangers and glorious ramen to exhilarating baseball games (we won), arcades, temples, and hidden dojos — this was a trip that we will struggle to forget.
Instead of writing a day-by-day summary of our trip, I thought it would be more fun (and interesting for you) to write down some notable memories of Japan before writing about some lessons and anecdotes learned during this spectacular trip to Japan.
Some notable memories
Shizouka — The day we hoped to climb Mt Fuji
The serenity of the waves as they crash over the tsunami defences. The sexiness of the Shinkansen bullet train — who would have thought I would get this excited about a train? The omnipresence of FamilyMart. The Sunpu castle with its multiple moats, gardens and tea shops. The flooding of the heavens as the lightning struck and epic thunder boomed.
Kyoto — Catching up on life
Nighttime in Kyoto is something else. Strolling down narrow rainy streets, red lanterns lit up, old temples on either side. Friends and couples walking ahead of us. Feeling ecstatic after enjoying ramen and some local beer. A day full of small but joyful encounters: a Danish man seeing his son after he just became a professional cyclist; a US family from Washington (state not DC) in the laundromat; a Japanese photographer and civil servant showing us magic tricks by the breakfast table.
Hiroshima — Tragedy
Heading to the Hiroshima Peace Museum and seeing the utter destruction, the death of the dreams of children, the pain of burns and the missing of daughters and mothers and siblings. Feeling (not just knowing) the suffering that bomb caused to the people of Hiroshima. The weather befit the mood — torrential rain — though the eternal flame remained alit. We met another Australian traveller here alongside some teachers from Taiwan.
Osaka — The one and only night out
Unlimited drinks for less than the equivalent of £6 in a bar with Jenga, arm wrestles, darts, Japanese board games and unexpected table-top dancers? What a crazy night, one that started (of course) in an English pub somewhere in Osaka. Fuelled on two hot dogs from earlier in the day, many a glass of Kirin beer was drunk alongside the company of others from Nottingham, LA, San Francisco, Germany, Australia and New Zealand.
Fukushima — Natural hot springs
Exhausted from travelling from the south to the north of the country, we found ourselves in the mountains of Fukushima. Encouraged to take a bell to ring at the sight of bears, we forgot and hiked across suspension bridges and hidden footpaths. Futon beds and a room filled with the meditative sound of a river gently flowing just beyond the ryokan put us to sleep rather quickly.
Life doesn’t always go the way you would expect
It is ironic that we only saw the great mountain of Mt Fuji once on our travels around Japan.
We had set off to the Fuji area with great expectations, aiming to summit before dawn in anticipation of an unforgettable sunrise.
Alas, we did not.
We went to the beach and to the nearby city of Shizouka instead.
But how else would we have met an Australian traveller in an isolated wine cafe in the middle of nowhere?
How else would we have enjoyed the company of a shop owner sheltering us from an almighty storm and teaching us the history of those who had ruled the castle nearby?
How else would we have enjoyed the fine lagers of Fuji and hour-long conversations?
It’s okay to take it slow
On the first day of the trip, we woke up at 3:30pm local time.
We had slept through our alarms and I woke up panicked, thinking that we now have no time to explore everything in Tokyo.
And so, on our way to the tube station, we met the kindest stranger who bought our metro tickets, PASMO cards (Oyster card equivalent) and gave us her number in case we had any questions at all.
When we got to Senso-Ji, we stopped off for dinner and had our first taste of Japanese cuisine — Okonomiyaki. We were utterly confused about customs and whether it was up to us or the waitress to cook the meal in front of us (it was the waitress’) but we enjoyed the meal and even had a photo taken with the incredibly enthusiastic chef.
Without rushing, without any will of our own, such things happened.
What did my brother teach me during this trip?
The science of chilling, the fine art of horizontal living, the indulgence of serious non-activity.
The philosophy of going with the flow.
Is it the journey or the destination?
Travelling alone can be incredible. The sheer amount of freedom: to go where you want, to eat where you want, to sleep when you want. There need not be any compromise.
But sometimes after watching an awe-inspiring sunset, eating a hearty pizza or finding oneself at the peak of a mountain after a gruelling climb, a thought might spring to mind: “But who to share this with?”
It can be so joyous to share that moment, to reflect on the idiocy of what is deemed art in a modern art exhibition, to talk about travellers we just met, to recall the hilarious encounters of our first night out together, or to smile cheerfully at my brother after finishing the extra large bowl of ramen (he got the smaller one).
This is not to undermine the different but special nature of travelling alone. The relationship one has with oneself is incredibly important. We keep ourselves company every waking day of our lives.
Nevertheless, one might ask, “Is it the journey or the destination?”
It’s the company.
Life goes on
It is funny how what may seem life-threateningly important in the traffic of the city dissipates as one goes on holiday.
The must-dos scrawled over my bedroom whiteboard.
The urgency of writing that article on my trip to Japan.
Okay, maybe not that one.
The urgency of responding to all those messages.
I was not just physically across the world but mentally too. The bubble had burst and I had entered a space in which I could look back, something difficult to do when one is immersed in that very space.
One can begin to think that the world might end without their constant presence, constant working, and constant productivity.
But after a while and especially when coming back from travel or Japan, one realises:
What is meant to be, will be.
The people who are meant to be in your life will be in your life.
Forever will the cycle of sunrise and sunset, growth and decay, night and day occur.
Life goes on.
