Japan withdrawal?

I love my own bed but Japan is something else

During my research and planning for our family trip to Japan last month, I kept coming across posts and reels talking about Japan withdrawal or post-Japan depression (there are many subreddits about this). Having travelled quite extensively, I dismissed this notion. Of course one is sad after returning from a trip. Going back to your normal life, to your job, to cleaning your house and making your own bed can be depressing. This should not be a shock to anyone.

But let me tell you…we’ve been home for a week. The bags are unpacked, the laundry is done. We’ve been working our way through the many-flavoured Kit Kats we bought. While the jetlag was knocking us on our asses, this post-Japan depression creeped in. Kick em while they’re down, I guess.

While our luggage is empty, I am still trying to unpack just how deeply Japan affected me. I tried to write my thoughts down with pen and paper, but I had to break up that task over many days. There is just SO MUCH.

The first thing that struck me was how in Tokyo, life happens on all levels. I’d be standing in front of what I thought was an office building, but when I looked up, the signage invited me to eat on the 7th floor, or join the karaoke party on the 9th, or shop on levels 1-6 for shoes, video games, clothing, cookies, souvenirs, etc. That same building also has two subfloors with shops, restaurants, and entertainment. I honestly couldn’t tell I was in the basement.

On any street or in any alley, we needed to look up. That’s where you find the real gems. Restaurants are tucked into every corner, including the attic. My husband and eldest son had a spectacular meal at a restaurant where the window overlooked the electrical wires and venting and those things were dripping with cooking grease. The table at a another tight-fit izakaya they stopped in had tabletops supported by milk crates.

If you can get past the grease dripping off the wires or milk crate tables, you will be rewarded with delicious food cooked in a 3x4ft kitchen.

The lights, the noise, the crowds, and the overstimulation are a constant assault. But I could not wipe the smile off my face. There was so much to take in at all times. We discovered that early mornings before 9am is the best time to wander. Most retailers don’t open until 10 or 11, so the streets are relatively quiet. We saw salary men and women on their way to work, as well as uniformed kids on their way to school.

The same intersection early in the morning at later at night. Shibuya Scramble has 3,000 people crossing every time the light changes. That's double the number or people who visit Heritage Park in a day.

Food was delicious, but sometimes also a disappointment as will happen anywhere. There are more varieties of Ramen than we’ll ever see in Calgary. I saw oysters as big a saucer and fresh crab legs that the fishmonger would throw into a steamer or onto a grill as soon as you paid. Vending machines are truly everywhere, offering beverages hot and cold, soup hot and cold, ice cream, and yes, even oysters, fresh or fried.

I wish I was hungry when I saw these crab legs at the Tsukiji fish market. You can also see the difference in the ramen. The first was made with bonito broth; the second with soft-shell turtle meat. And the vending machines sell everything you can imagine and even some you cannot (oysters).

What also surprised me about Japan, was just how green and lush it was. In Shinjuku, a popular area of Tokyo, we wandered away from the busy hub. We came across a shrine in the middle of the city, turned the corner, and it was like we had been transported somewhere else entirely. We were now in a heavily-treed residential and commercial area.

The giant billboards at the edge of Shinjuku. Walk in the opposite direction and you'll find a shrine in the middle of the sidewalk and then a pastoral scene around the corner. Japan is full of surpirses.

So much greenery. The famous Arashiyama Bamboo forest in Kyoto, some gorgeous contrast at Fushimi Inari Taisha (the famous red shrines), and the Japanese garden at Gyoen National Garden, a 160-acre park in the middle of Kyoto.

And everything is SO DAMN CLEAN: the trains, the public bathrooms, the streets; all are a pleasure to patronize. Cars are all newer models. We did not see one rust bucket.

I can’t talk about Japan without addressing the stairs. OMG THE STAIRS! We went down two flights of stairs, then back up two, then back down two to access the subways. One day, facing three sets of stairs that would take us out of the train station, I counted the climb: 73 steps. My body and my feet took such a beating every day with incessant walking and climbing. By the end of the trip, I felt like I had been through a 14-day boot camp. I had to massage my feet and stretch my legs and glutes every night and morning. Stairs became a relief for my feet, allowing me to step on the ball and stretch out the arch to the heel. 73 times. 😉

All the stairs prepared me for the climb up Himeji Castle’s rickety narrow stairs. It was so hot and humid that day, perfect for testing the Japanese mascara I had heard so much about. I had sweat running into my eyeballs and that shit did not move. It’s called Kiss Me Heroine and locally, it’s usually available at T&T Supermarkets.

Yeah, I climbed to the top of that. And my mascara did not run at all.

This was the first family trip we’ve taken with the boys as adults. As a parent, it’s a remarkable thing to watch your children flourish in a foreign country. We discovered our youngest is a super-navigator. He can read a map once and know exactly where to go. Within three days, he had figured out the complex train system. He led the way every single time and he did it with shoulders back and his head held high. The confidence to guide us from point A to B to C and to set us right when we got turned around just oozed from him. Our eldest took a day to explore Osaka on his own. We never once felt unsafe in Japan, so it felt natural to let him go while the rest of us went to Hiroshima. Yes, we left him in a foreign city 340km away. I could feel the positive vibrations coming off him when we connected later that evening. He was absolutely energized.

Out third day in Tokyo at the Tsukiji fish market with our newly acquired coin purses, an absolute necessity in Japan

Even now as I write this, the thoughts and reflections about this trip in general and Japan in particular are still popping off in my brain. I can’t keep up with how this trip changed all of us.

Maybe that’s where the depression comes from: the idea that growth has happened and we are not who we were before. Living every day for two weeks in a state of wonder and discovery would put anyone into a euphoric state. When you come home, nothing you left is really that different. In Japan, I saw my children in a new light. They are adults now, and they’ll be fine wherever they land. It’s not depression I’m feeling, it’s a bit of loss. My world has shifted and not just geographically.