If Viktor Navorsky – the character in the film Terminal, who made New York's JFK airport his home after a political coup back home rendered him stateless – had glimpsed Tokyo's train stations, he'd surely have moved in. These eternally busy hubs are more than transit points. Of late, they've become places to meet friends, shop, dine and even de-stress.
With Tokyo-dwellers spending a large proportion of their lives commuting and catching trains, it's no wonder a plethora of services have sprouted in and around many ekis (the Japanese word for station). You could amuse yourself at these stations all day, especially at the major ones, most of which have undergone major refurbishment.
Ueno station is a prime example of how these hubs have been improved over the years to cater to urban citizens' hectic lives. Past the turnstiles is the stylish Atre leisure complex which includes a supermarket, flower stand, trendy clothing boutiques, a frame shop, day spa, and Starbucks and Doutor coffee shops (the latter is a home-grown chain serving really strong brew). It also has a delicatessen offering French pastries, traditional green tea and red bean cakes, and an "American pharmacy" stocking items usually found in the US such as Woods of Windsor toiletries, Hawaiian-made lotion and aromatherapy candles and essential oils.
There's even a Hard Rock Café that was packed at lunchtime. It's the first one I've seen at a train station.
There are some Japanese traditions remaining. Alongside French outlets such as Brasserie Le Crin at Ueno, the tachi-kui (stand-and-eat) is still the popular choice for harried salary men. After studying pictures of the dishes on the vending machine by the door, customers purchase a ticket which they hand to the server upon entry. Prices start from Y360 (£1.79) for a simple bowl of noodles. I was tempted to try it until I noticed this type of dining attracted a mostly male clientele and I thought better of it.
At the Shinagawa station, the tachi-kui establishments, located near the train platforms, are spacious, modern-looking, offer seating and frequented by both sexes. And the food isn't bad either.
Then there are the ubiquitous Japanese establishments with garishly coloured fake food on display (see box on Kappabashi, page 72) where the most popular orders are for the deep-fried items, brown curry rice and hamburger steak.
After almost a week in Tokyo of taking trains (I took taxis four times and only because I was running late for appointments), I came to admire this city's concern for those with special needs, particularly the visually impaired. To guide them, international-standard yellow textured lanes have been integrated into much of the metropolis' street infrastructure, and are found in train stations as well. Going down the stairs at the Shinagawa station, I touched something on the railing that felt to me like braille lettering, and indeed it was (although I never found out what the figures meant).
Still, anyone who has visited Tokyo will vouch (perhaps after finding out the hard way) that there are a number of real challenges in navigating its subway system.
First, you must decide whether the subway is the best way to the destination you wish to reach. Second, you should determine which line or which combination of lines to use. (Tokyo is served by the Tokyo Metro, the Japan Railways or JR line, which runs the shinkanzen or bullet trains, as well as a suburban line.) Third, how do you buy tickets? Then you have to identify the station nearest your destination (be warned: there are over 250 stations) and finally, find the correct exit to use after you have disembarked at the right train station.
Of these challenges, the last one – using the exit closest to your destination – could prove the most difficult of all. In general, Tokyo's subway stations have two or more exits but many have over a dozen. If you can't read or speak Japanese, exiting in the right place can prove surprisingly tricky.
Unless you are going to a well-known place, station attendants can usually furnish only general directions based on the area address of your destination. The difficulty locating a building in Tokyo (this applies to Seoul as well) is due to the fact that most streets, except major thoroughfares, are not named. Addresses are based on location starting with the wards, progressing to smaller districts and then to individual lots.
If you don't know which exit to take and opt for the wrong one, you could end up blocks away from where you want to be. And there are many stations where you could end up on the opposite side of sprawling complexes or other barriers that block your passage back to the right place. This could mean a major trek to your destination or, more likely, getting hopelessly lost.
I found it useful to ask friends or the hotel concierge to identify the station nearest to my destination, which fortunately on this trip were major landmarks such as the ANA Hotel, the Ginza and Omotesando shopping strip, Kappabashi Street and the Yasukuni War Shrine. So I didn't have to face the dilemma of not knowing where I was. It might have been a different story had I been bound for a lesser-known place, but I opted to test that theory on my next visit.
What puzzled me most, given the diligence in other aspects, was how little provision is made for non-Japanese speakers at the ticket vending machines. The rail map on the wall above the dispensers, where fares are indicated, was almost always written in Japanese. Only in some stations did I spot an English map – the one found in tourist brochures – clumsily taped up in a discreet corner. You had to really hunt for it. And if you weren't wearing your reading glasses, you needed to squint to read the small print.
Frustration led me to devise my own method of determining fares. I studied the railway map, particularly the Tokyo Metro, which I used frequently, and simply memorised the location of the station (on the map) I wanted to visit. This I mentally transferred on to the larger wall map, and I instantly knew my exact fare. The formula worked without fail.
Later on, I learned the easier (or lazier) method was to put your coins in the machine and punch the lowest fare button (Y130; 65p) which gets you on the train. Once you reach your destination, you can correct your fare at an attended ticket gate or with an automatic fare adjustment machine.
Tokyo is still a smoker's paradise but authorities are slowly trying to clear the air. At the Tokyo Station, tobacco addicts can only light up in special glass enclosures. From 7.30am to 9.30am, smoking on the train platform is strictly prohibited.
Tokyo's train stations have also become the place to restore your equilibrium. Those in the field of promoting wellbeing believe their establishments couldn't be better located, given the heavy traffic. And who can resist a soothing back or foot massage, trudging home from the pressures of the office?
The Temomin group entered early in the game and now boasts a number of branches in and around various Tokyo Metro and JR line stations. Their centres, although small, are spotless and their therapists friendly and experienced. Members of their club are entitled to discounts.
If you notice the sign saying "Relaxation Space", chances are it's a Temomin-managed establishment. After many days on the move, I was in need of therapy. I submitted my legs and feet to them and after 30 minutes, walked out of there a new woman.
War and Peace
What should greet me as I approached the main building of the headline-hugging Yasukuni Jinja War Shrine but a white dove perched on top of theTorii Gate, which seemed symbolic in these contentious times.
Unknown to many, Yasukuni Jinja, means "peaceful nation shrine", a place of worship and remembrance for many Japanese, mostly the older generation, and their families.
From 1869, this Shinto shrine has been honouring the souls of Japanese killed in battle since the Meiji restoration, their names entered in Yasukuni's book of souls. According to local beliefs, once a person died in battle he became "a guardian of the village" and was duly worshiped as a Shinto deity. Controversy swirls over the inclusion of 14 Class A war criminals (as determined by the postwar Tokyo War Crimes Tribunal), including Hideki Tojo, prime minister of Japan from 1941 to 1944 — the period when it conducted aggressive forays into neighbouring Asian countries. The public visits made by current prime minister Junichiro Koizumi have also attracted much attention.
Whichever side you take, Yasukuni remains an interesting and important attraction that merits a look during a trip to Tokyo. The weekend I visited, there was nothing obvious to indicate that this place venerated Japan's militaristic past — except for a group near the parking lot, selling t-shirts with kamikaze airplane images and soliciting membership for some campaign.
A cultural group performed on a small stage on the grounds and a group of citizens staged a lively bazaar. The laughter of schoolchildren was a predominant sound.
The Yushukan, Japan's oldest museum established in 1882, should not be missed. Recent renovation has added a new, sleek building and two screening rooms among other facilities. One may not agree with the interpretation of historical events presented here, but it's clear that much work and research went into the exhibits.
The Spirit of the Samurai rooms were particularly outstanding and, being the first exhibit that visitors encountered, put Japanese military sensibilities, right or wrong, into perspective. Same for the modules on Yasukuni Jinja, which served to explain why many Japanese did not understand why they could not be left alone to mourn.
The tour ended in a room whose walls are plastered with photographs and personal mementos of war victims, many of them young or in the first flush of adulthood. I stared into their eyes, and suddenly, I found myself mourning too.
How I got there The Namboku line, getting off at Yotsuya Station (N08). It's a short uphill walk from there.
Plastic town
Even with little or zero knowledge of Japanese, it would be difficult to starve during your trip to Tokyo.
At least, not while you can point at those display boxes fronting restaurants, lined with what appears to be the entire menu: plates of curry rice with deep-fried prawns or pork cutlet, rows of sushi and sashimi, bowls of soba noodles with seaweed and chicken, hamburger steak, towering ice-cream parfaits and colourful desserts.
Thanks to Japanese ingenuity, owners of these establishments need not worry about replenishing the food items. If you haven't noticed, they're made of plastic or wax.
If you're thinking of collecting such novelties or opening your own Japanese eatery, the place to go is Kappabashi Dogugai Street in Asakusa district.
Also known as "Kitchenware Town", the 800-metre stretch is packed with over 170 stores selling not only plastic food but also cooking utensils, crockery, pots and pans, silverware, chopsticks, espresso machines and drip coffee-makers, steel tables and trolleys, mountains of plastic wrap and paper towels, barbecue pits, neon signs and electric lanterns. Everything possible needed to start up your own food enterprise.
Back to those plastic food items — they're not exactly cheap but they do make unusual souvenirs. Knowing that most tourists would probably not be too keen to buy food samples, businessmen have cleverly scaled them down, producing fridge magnets, key chains and accessories meant to dangle from mobile phones. Prices range from 95p to £200 depending on the size.
And if the sight of all that food makes you peckish, you'll have to go elsewhere for a meal. There doesn't seem to be a proper restaurant on this street.
How I got there The Ginza line, getting off at Tawaramachi Station (G18) and using Exit 3. I went straight until reaching the koban (police station). I turned left and walked about two blocks to Kappabashi. Shops open 10am-5pm. They're closed on Sundays and holidays.
