Everyone, it seems, is going to Japan. Since last year, the land of the falling Yen has been attracting millions of visitors for whom it is suddenly just about affordable. The sights of greatest interest, previously merely infested with tourists, are now rendered almost invisible under a writhing mass of them.
The most egregious consequences of this stampede have already been widely reported: Geishas being pestered for photos in the picturesque streets of medieval Kyoto, Mount Fuji viewing points being boarded up, noisy Gaijin being ejected from the most important shrines. Having been to Japan twice before, I must confess I’m somewhat surprised by all this. Things must be getting really out of hand, because in my experience there is no nation in the world more adept at subtly training foreigners.
It starts as soon as you arrive. Think that other immigration queue looks much shorter and you could just slide over to it when no one is looking? Don’t even think about it. You’ve been told to join the queue you’re in and there you will remain, even if the tail end languishes in another time zone.
Think your (really very modest) rucksack could just nestle on your lap on the shuttle bus to the hotel? Sorry! Into the hold it must go, along with items of luggage capacious enough to accommodate a small family. Busy Ginza (Image: David Cunningham) Before this all threatens to devolve into a rant, I should say at this point that I have huge respect for the Japanese. Daily life, ev.
