Weekend Argus (Saturday Edition)
Going on a trip to tokyo solo
How to navigate the highs and lows of travelling alone
IT WAS barely 5am when I realised I made the first mistake of my trip to Japan. I’d left my laptop at home, and discovered the nightmare when I was more than halfway to the airport. Travel upsets two and three came later – some my fault, others out of my control.
The only thing that comforted me was the fact that I was travelling alone. If I were travelling with others, things would have been more complicated. Forgetting important things? My problem alone. Flight delays? My stress alone. Holding up the line at immigration because I didn’t write down my Airbnb address correctly? My shame alone.
The discomfort is part of the allure. Despite the early-morning hiccups, I made it to Japan. My fifth trip to the country. Japan is one of the best places on the planet for solo travellers because, in many ways, the country is optimised for solo success.
You can nestle into a solitary routine without judgment. In the morning, you’re not some person sitting by yourself at breakfast. You’re one of eight. Doing things on your own here is standard.
That doesn’t mean travelling alone in Japan is always easy. Like anything, travelling by yourself comes with its own highs and lows. But there are lessons that can help you navigate the challenges.
Fight the urge to get on your phone when you’re feeling shy.
The smartphone is the perfect travel companion. It’s there when you’re lost, providing a map to guide you home. It’s there when you’re lonely, connecting you with friends and family. It’s there when you’re bored. But if I give into the siren song of my iPhone, I won’t talk to anyone new. From my experience, strangers in Tokyo will generally leave you alone unless they get the sense you’d like to chat.
After two snack dinners during my first full night in Tokyo, I walked back to my home-base neighbourhood with a nightcap in mind. I spotted a bar entrance that looked like a theme-park version of a dungeon. Bernard Herrmann’s
played eerily as I ascended the nearly pitch-black staircase up to the second-floor bar and eased myself onto a teetering stool at the bar.
Twisted Nerve