So I celebrated the only way I know how.
It’s been far too long since we’ve talked.
In the meantime, I turned 40!
So I celebrated the only way I know how. On a solo trip to Japan.
It was a 10 dayer, which gave me a lot of time to be with me. In fact my lengthiest conversation with another human lasted 10 minutes with the owner of the donut shop I would quickly come to adore. This left ample space to work things out in my head and unabashedly talk to myself.
Between trying to figure out Japanese culture, wondering if I was doing things right, calculating how many miles I was walking without a step counter, and scheduling my return…my brain all but exploded.
Japan is a different planet and a different people. I’ve visited Vietnam, Laos, Bangkok, and Myanmar, and Japan is similar to exactly none of them.
It thoroughly swept me away and my emotions are bordering on obsession. I think, read, and dream about Japan the way someone might when they first fall in love.
Clearly, to dissect it all in one love letter wouldn’t be possible. I also want to talk about why Japan is ideal for a solo female traveler and general musings about the culture itself (because as my friend Lana so articulately put it, I left Japan with more questions than answers).
There is one question with a definite answer. Would I go back? 100 times yes.
Here are a few things I loved about being in Japan at this stage of my life.
the way it made me think in an all-consuming, non-stop, almost exhaustive manner.
discovering new corners of my mind and recognizing that there will always be uncharted mental territory no matter my age.
having time to process the palpable changes I’m going through.
walking until I was in pain. (For real. My kidneys hurt. I never walked that much in my life.)
the boost of confidence it gave me. (Especially when I successfully bought stamps in a Seven Eleven.)
the tranquility. 38 million people live in Tokyo yet you could hear a pin drop at any given moment.
forcing myself to eat sushi for breakfast at the fish market just to see what it felt like.
the way it almost-but-not-quite brought me back to a feeling I’ve been trying to recreate, without success, since I started my traveling journey when I was 24. It’s a super-surreal awe that surges through every nerve and blood vessel in your body and viscerally shifts your perspective. For years I’ve been chasing this sensation, and even in all Japan’s differentness I didn’t get it. I now accept that it’s not coming back. Not through travel, anyway.
crying uncontrollably on my final night. Not necessarily over leaving Tokyo (though that was hard) but in detaching from my purpose in being there.
having the unique experience of seeing it for the first time. (It’s unlike anything else.)
reconnecting with my favorite travel partner. (Me!)
that despite wanting to stay, like really stay, I made the big-girl decision to choose the known and return to magical Mexico.
Here are a few of my favorite things.
My favorite place was Tokyo.
It’s elegant, clean, safe, spectacular, chic, endless, mature, dainty, efficient, seductive, orderly, perfect.
See my photos of Tokyo and Ginza.
My favorite find was in Kyoto.
I stumbled upon a small cafe on my way to another cafe and decided to walk in. It was an ancient donut shop run by a beautiful, graceful Japanese couple who I immediately took a liking to. The inside was simple and artful, just like its menu. The music was soft and peaceful, just like its owners.
I went back every day except Friday because it was closed, and stayed late in Kyoto on Saturday so I could have a final cup of perfect drip coffee and a donut before zipping to Osaka by train. I don’t know why I loved it so much but I did and I do and it’s one of my favorite places in the world.
See my photos of Kyoto.
My favorite surprise was Osaka.
It’s chaotic and loud and ridiculous. Full of little alleys with Japanese lanterns rocking in the wind, Japanese businessmen getting loud and drunk on whiskey, and wide boulevards that transform into Victorian-esque bridges that cross over a literal-teal river.
One street is covered in cigarette butts and trannies with multiple piercings and on the next block are flocks of porcelain-skinned 20-somethings in lace dresses and pointed kitten heels with lace socks. It’s a confusing mess and I loved it.
See my photos of Osaka.
If you’re thinking to do it, do it. The yen is weak and won’t be for long.
More to come!
With love,
Bethany
