Traveling in Japan: All You Really Need to Know

Shibuya crossing, Tokyo

We were relieved to find that Japan - despite its very different language and very different culture - is a surprisingly easy country to visit. This is thanks primarily to the kindness and hospitality of the Japanese people; all you really need to navigate the country is a willingness to ask for help, a little bit of patience, and just a handful of practical tips: 

• Be prepared to pay cash. Yes, surprisingly, the world's most advanced economy operates primarily on a cash-only basis. This includes many restaurants and traditional hotels.
• Rail pass. You want one. It makes you a traveling God. But it's tricky: you have to buy it in advance from a limited set of vendors (see here).
• Stamps. If you are traveling by train, bring a blank book: every station (and I mean every station, even the local JR line stations in Tokyo) has its own stamp. Yes, stamp, as in the rubber and ink pad variety. Supposedly, the Japanese are avid collectors of stamps, but I only saw preteen boys and other foreigners hunting them down. Still, the hunt is a fun challenge - and the resulting collection a pictorial diary of your travels.

Cheap Eats Japan, Part II

Where was I? Ah, yes: noodles.  Plentiful, delicious, cheap -- but also just the tip of the Japanese convenience food iceberg. And so we move on to that second major Japanese food group, fried.

Fried food on sticks:  

Kushiage (which I think literally translates to "fried food on sticks") is exactly what it sounds like.  Any kind of vegetable and almost any kind of animal product is panko-crusted and deep fried to order, served with shredded cabbage and a sweet dipping sauce (in which you should never double dip).  As the Japanese know well, fried food goes best with beer, and it's the beer that will run up your tab in such places - each skewer on its own costs less than $2.  Greatest novelty: frying quail eggs turns them into squishy eye balls with the most amazing gooey yolk when you bite into them.

Lotus root has a most distinctive shape.

Okonomiyaki: 

Though kushiage could give it a run for its money, I would have to say Japan's premier drunk food is okonomiyaki.  Seriously, I don't understand why every college town doesn't have an okonomiyaki hole-in-the-wall diner, or why Portland appears still to be lacking an okonomiyaki food cart (Note to Portland: Get on it).

Okonomi-mura

One of the best cities for okononomiyaki is Hiroshima, where there is an entire building downtown (Okonomi-mura) made up of tiny okonomiyaki stalls. It's a little tricky to find the internal staircase that winds up through five or six floors of okonomiyaki paradise, and once you do, it's hard to differentiate one from another.  

We picked one on the fourth floor that seemed like it had been around for a while, was hosting three middle-aged Japanese business men, and was staffed by an older man with a yellow towel tied around his head who looked entirely displeased to see us sit down before his grill.

Cheap Eats Japan

Not gonna lie: Traveling in Japan is expensive. It's a wealthy country, goods and services are priced surprisingly consistently (so don't go holding your breath for bargain basement deals), and the exchange rate is most definitely NOT in your favor. Don't get me started on the exchange rate.

But eating in Japan: not expensive.  At least, not if you can content yourself with the Japanese equivalent of fast food.  

Now, I don't want to mislead you - we're still talking about spending $8-$15 a person here.  But there is a surprising diversity of options at that price point.  In fact, our love of street food and cheap eats while traveling reflects not so much our Yankee frugality (OK, maybe it does) as the thrill of cultural exploration.  

Breakfast noodles in a Tokyo back alley.

Noodles: Noodles are king. In Japan, one could eat noodles for breakfast, lunch and dinner and still respect oneself in the morning. Noodles are ubiquitous, and they are diverse: both in type (udon, soba, ramen, somen) and in context - from the somewhat upscale to the very back alley.  

At the higher end are the soba and udon shops that make their own noodles.  These places tend to lay claim to historical pedigree and have extensive menus with an overwhelming set of options for what to have on, in or with your noodles.  

Take, for example, Ebistu, a noodle shop that has been around for 150 years, give or take, in the alpine town of Takayama: