Last November, Matt and I flew to Japan for two weeks. We’d been planning it for the better part of a year. Then we landed, and every plan we’d made turned out to be a rough sketch of a country that was much bigger, kinder, and more organized than either of us was ready for.
I wrote something every night from wherever we were. Partly to remember it. Partly because a few people back home asked me to, and once you have an audience of eleven, you owe them an update. Those entries are below, mostly as I wrote them, with the jet lag left in. This is the Tokyo leg. Osaka, Hiroshima, and Kyoto get their own posts.
My first impression of Tokyo, for the record: if the sight of a well-written instruction manual has ever given you a thrill, welcome home.
Day 1: DisneySea
Seventeen hours of jet lag? Adorable. While everyone back home was tucked in, dreaming peacefully, we were out here power-walking through DisneySea like two overcaffeinated tourists on a mission. Matt knew we weren't flying across the planet for me to miss this place. It’s amazing. It’s enormous. It’s basically cardio with a plot.
32,000 steps later, we called it an early night, because tomorrow Tokyo Disneyland tries to finish what DisneySea started.
Day 2: Disneyland, and the ancient art of the line
Another 30,000 steps, another day of Disney magic and back betrayal. Tokyo Disneyland is gorgeous. Lots of familiar rides, except here you can see what Imagineers create when they’re given carte blanche. Beauty and the Beast was a three-hour wait, but honestly it felt like waiting for a Broadway show that ends with animatronics flexing on your childhood.
This morning we learned, while packed into the entrance like polite sardines, that the park was sold out. I’m slowly learning the ancient art of waiting in line, while the locals are clearly black belts in queue etiquette.
Meanwhile, Matt is out here resurrecting his high school Japanese, trying to be culturally respectful. My role? Offering a look of pure panic whenever anyone speaks to me. It’s a system, and so far it seems to be an effective communication strategy.
Day 3: The palace, the trains, and Harajuku
We “took it easy” today. Only 17,000 steps. We’re staying near Tokyo Station and the Imperial Palace, which has been the perfect jumping-off point for exploring.
This morning we wandered over to the Imperial Palace grounds. They’re massive. Peaceful, quiet, and somehow right in the middle of Tokyo. The walls and moat are incredible; they honestly look like they were contracted out to the Incas. So much history, and all of it older than anything I thought was “ancient” on the East Coast.
Then we braved the trains to Harajuku. At first the Tokyo train system felt like it might chew us up and spit us out, but we’re getting the hang of it and actually starting to feel confident. We also discovered that Japan walks on the left. Meanwhile, our American instincts keep steering us right, so we’re basically salmon swimming upstream. Even the escalators call us out; we keep approaching them from the wrong side like confused tourists (because we are).
But we made it to Harajuku with zero disasters, where Matt discovered Uniqlo and promptly bought the place out.
We wandered Takeshita Street, grabbed lunch at a tiny Indian restaurant with only five tables (and somehow snagged one), and explored Harajuku’s high-fashion chaos. Picture LA’s chic shopping district, luxury cars, designer outfits, while Matt and I trudged through in jeans, sweatshirts, and backpacks. Not our scene, but definitely fun to witness.
Tonight we hurried back to meet our close friends from Maine, who just arrived. They’re total Japan pros and know every trick in the book. We survived three days on our own. It’ll be nice to have people who actually know what they’re doing.
Day 4: Toyosu, teamLab, and a very large robot
This morning we met our friends for coffee and pastries that absolutely put American breakfast to shame. Then we managed to outsmart Google Maps (a rare feat) and made our way to the Toyosu neighborhood, reclaimed land out in Tokyo Bay and one of the Olympic sites from a few years back.
Our first stop was the Toyosu Fish Market, where all the freshest fish arrive at sunrise for a massive bidding war before being shipped to the best sushi and seafood restaurants in Tokyo, across Japan, and throughout Asia. We quickly learned the fish wake up long before the rooster. The real action was over by the time we arrived. But that was fine, because our true goal was teamLab Planets, just around the corner.
And WOW. It’s hard to explain teamLab. It’s a series of immersive art experiences you walk through, sometimes wade through, sometimes crawl through. We started by taking off our shoes and stepping into flowing streams, then wandered into a room where we waded through a digital koi pond. Another room felt like walking across a giant pillow (my favorite). There was a room full of lights, rooms where you interacted with extinct animals, and an “athletic forest” that felt like a playground for all ages. We even drew pictures that came to life. It’s impossible to fully describe, but it was incredible.
Afterward, we took the train deeper into the Olympic Village and visited a Gundam, which Matt and I had to Google because we had no idea what it was. Essentially: a giant robot from a beloved anime. Kids were thrilled. We grabbed a snack at a nearby mall, where a crowd of kids was waiting for someone called “Sweet Steady,” which made me feel 200 years old because I have zero idea who that is.
We wandered down to the waterfront at sunset to take in a rare view of Tokyo from the outside, something you don’t really see when you’re inside the city. Dinner near our hotel was a Korean barbecue feast; the meat kept coming and everything was delicious.
Only 18,000 steps today. Practically a rest day.
Tokyo continues to amaze me, but even more than that, I love the people. Everyone we’ve met has been kind, welcoming, excited to share their culture, and equally curious about us. We’ve only been here four days and it already feels special. The culture, the warmth, the hospitality. It’s beautiful.
Day 5: Mario Kart, Shibuya, and the Shania Twain incident
Our last full day in Tokyo, until we swing back before heading home. And apparently we’ve developed a travel log following now, so here’s today’s episode of “Two Husbands and Some Questionable Decisions Abroad.”
We kicked things off with the greatest activity known to mankind: real-life Mario Kart through the streets of Tokyo.
Yes, it’s exactly as unhinged as it sounds.
Chris, Matt, and I strapped into tiny go-karts and launched ourselves into traffic like three delusional Mario Kart characters. We dodged taxis like they were Koopa Troopas, waved at pedestrians who did not sign up for this, and I swear someone spiritually threw a banana peel at me because my kart absolutely did a “what is happening??” skid.
No blue shells were thrown, but emotionally? They landed.
Shauna, naturally, chose peace and sanity, spending her afternoon exploring beautiful parks instead of reenacting 150cc mode in public.
After reconnecting, I dragged everyone to Shibuya, where Tokyo said, “You thought you understood crowds? Cute.”
Shibuya Scramble is a whole experience. Thousands of people crossing in every direction like a live-action simulation that can’t remember its own programming. Bright lights, huge screens, energy cranked all the way to 11. Pure, glorious madness.
Next up was one of Shauna’s must-do items: karaoke in Tokyo.
We went in reluctantly, full “this is going to be embarrassing” energy, and ended up having an absolutely ridiculous amount of fun.
The only heartbreak of the night: Matt could not sing Shania Twain’s “Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under” because it wasn’t in the system. Honestly tragic. Shania deserved better.
Don’t worry. Karaoke round two is coming, and we will right this wrong.
With unlimited drinks and our questionable renditions of Chappell Roan, ABBA, Neil Diamond, and “Shiny Happy People,” we basically held our own private concert for an audience of ourselves.
Leaving Tokyo
Tokyo has me completely smitten. The energy, the creativity, the food, the lights, the people. So kind, so welcoming, so patient with our confused faces and our desperate attempts to get on the left side of the escalator.
Five days is not enough. Not even close. I could stay two more weeks and still barely make a dent.
But tomorrow begins the next leg. Osaka, then Hiroshima, then Kyoto. Sore legs, full hearts, questionable voices, and all.
Part Two, Osaka and Hiroshima, is next.
— Patrick