Tokyo overload

25 hours in Japan
How to Spend all Your Money and Become Threat to NAtional Security


I decided for sure to visit Tokyo only 12 hours before I left my friend’s Taipei home for the airport. I had flown through Narita Airport three times prior and never left security, and I decided fourth time’s the charm. I had $120 left, and figured I could go several days off that (considering I spent $100 in Hawaii for 5 days, $100 camping Texas for 3 days).

Not knowing the local language or anyone in the world’s most expensive city, which houses 20+ million people, was more overwhelming than I anticipated.

I kicked things off by forgetting a bag with two dozen gifts and trinkets in Celine’s room. Oops.

I arrived at customs, where it seems the officials weren’t as excited about my spontaneous arrival and lacking a place to stay. After speaking to two officials, they cleared me for entry.

Sitting at the arrival’s gate, I scrambled to find the best cheap hostel and scribbled down directions before my computer battery died.

I hopped on the subway and spent the next 70 minutes riding past rural rice paddies, through urban block apartments and into metropolitan Tokyo. After patting myself on the back for a successful start, I got lost finding the hostel and asked 7 people for directions. One was a nice American guy who I exchanged contact info with, who was spending the summer abroad for his master’s in nutrition. Kansas archery instructor whose first time out of the country was here- go big then go home!

My hostel reservation never went through, but things worked out.

I decided to grab some local food before my evening venture into trendy Harajuku and bustling Shibuya. Grasping just costly this place was, I opted for the cheapest meal at the cheapest café in the affordable district I was staying in. Tried ordering from someone who worked there, silly me, when they showed me they don’t directly make them- a fancy vending machine chose my meal. I got rice & cabbage, some yellow stringy side dish, beef noodles with greens, and fried “pork” (fish) for 350 yen.

Public transportation stresses me out. For 19 years, I never needed to know or understand how to use it except for an occasional bus ride. Everyone who’s ever been to Japan that I know always tells me two things- everyone speaks English, and the metros are efficient yet easy.

Well, I spent the next hour inside the entryway, asking for subway help from approximately 40 strangers. I felt so helpless and frustrated that I started crying - not the first time in my last couple years of intense international public transportation use. Finding a private space to have a pity party is not ideal in these situations, as even the restroom costs money and has attendants.

Thankfully, night walking in the city is always a good time. I bought a rancid Asian mango cocktail in a can for 100 yen and wandered the most famous and influential areas of Tokyo. While trying to trick myself into thinking it was drinkable, I struck up a chat with a Frenchman while people watching at a famous crosswalk rush. Certain times of the day, thousands of people cross this intersection within one minute. I joined le mec franҫais and his fellow engineer friend, wandering Shibuya side streets to sit in a restaurant discussing politics, religion, French film and food.

Feeling better about my night, I confidently strode towards the metro to take the last one of the day. I ran across two young men dressed in hardcore/punk black threads, who through hand gestures revealed I was confidently striding away from the metro. They walked me to the platform, and turned out to be videographers at an upscale marketing company in the main square.

The hostel bed was easily the most comfortable twin sized bed away from bed ever! Down blanket, rice pillow, tall bottom bunk allowing comfortable upright sitting for the win.

Woke up to a man gagging himself for 10 minutes while brushing his teeth. I thought he was dying and almost threw up from the incessant hocking sound. In the lounge, I stocked up on free toast and tea on a traditional style low table, perched on a thin pillow over straw mats.

Then I walked to Asakusa, the historic area where geishas used to stroll around the most famous temple in Tokyo. I was equally intrigued by the various festival days (visit on a particular day and your prayer is worth 14,000+ prayers) as well as the automatic flushing hole in the ground. I saw a tourist ship that James Bond (Tom Cruise era technology) must have owned as a submarine, parked across the river from a giant sideways golden flame statue that looks like fresh poo.

En route to meet yesterday’s American friend, I walked past groups of rather fit Japanese men pulling rickshaw and a man dressed as a Tibetan monk, who gave me a blessing and tried, without success, to make me pay for it.

We set off for the imperial gardens, located outside the royal family’s residence. I was packed and ready to leave for the airport from there, dragging my suitcase behind me for a couple hours. Tired of messing with it, I stationed it near a tree so we could walk unencumbered for a bit. We agreed the Japanese are an honorable people who wouldn’t steal anything, so what was the worst that could happen?

Found a rock slab atop a mini waterfall to rest on. After getting bit 10 times by mosquitoes, within 15 minutes of leaving my bag, we moseyed back.

Well, the bag hadn’t been lonely.

5 imperial guards, 2 detectives, 1 police car, 1 unmarked car with 3 men in suits and many passersby were so thoughtful to keep it company. One male detective was even so nice to put on gloves, open it and gingerly check to see if it was ok.

Only the Japanese can make a high-threat potential bomb on the royal family’s grounds seem like a jovial and welcoming chat. Thank God, with some quick thinking and smiling, I went from Terrorist Who Planted A Bomb to Naïve Tourist who left it to take photos. Playing dumb American Day Tripper (and actual proof of non-suspect materials) got me out of a sticky situation.

We booked it out of there, and were tailed for a bit, we think. Leaving the grounds, two guards we hadn’t seen told me to hold onto my bag from now on- news travels fast at the royal palace, it seems.

What should have been an hour trip to the airport took two and a half hours, so I missed my direct connection to Houston. Getting a new ticket to San Francisco was quite the fiasco: what should have taken 4 employees to get me on the plane took 11 instead. I got the last seat on a flight to LA, and there encountered the rudest United employees yet. I waited for a particularly saucy gate attendant to leave for a minute, and talked another one into letting me on the plane.

I managed to spend all my $120, by purchasing only one cheap meal, a cheap hostel bunk and using public transportation.

All in a day’s work, friends.