Japan

Hanging out with my teenage son, Ben, isn’t easy. We have nothing in common. So, I’m always looking for creative ways to spend time with him. A few years ago, he was really into cars and racing. It turns out that Japan has an underground car culture of street racing and car customizing. So, I booked a 3-star hotel, and off we went.

I had never actually been to Tokyo, only Narita. But we figured things out. Ben is an awesome travel buddy and a competent navigator. We didn’t think we had wi-fi service so Ben painstakingly loaded directions from our hotel to various obscure car shops, showrooms, and museums. He was in charge of the street navigating and I handled the subway. We made a great team and we felt pretty proud of ourselves whenever we successfully arrived at our destination.

When asking for directions, Japanese people are very friendly and want to help, but the language is a barrier. I’ve also noticed that Japanese people will never say, “I don’t know.” They will send you somewhere. And when you get lost and ask another person, they’ll send you right back where you came from. You’ll wander around in circles bouncing between “helpful” Japanese people too polite not to give you some sort of answer. It’s a cultural exchange.  

On our first night in Japan, we went to see a very impressive Ferrari collection. Afterwards, the showroom attendant somehow directed us to a Pagani showroom using almost no actual words in English. But Ben understood “Pagani.” He was excited because he had never seen one of those cars in person.

During the next few days, we went to other car shops and showrooms, but sadly we never made it to the Nissan Museum. The Nissan Museum is outside of Tokyo and when I asked the lady at the front desk for directions, she frowned and made a sound like “ahhgrr.” It was going to involve several buses, a transfer, and a bit of walking. Japan is not easy to get around. Not many people speak English, we couldn’t read the signs, there’s no Uber, and taxi’s are some of the most expensive in the world. I assured Ben we’d make it, but he had his doubts.  

Unfortunately, we also didn’t make it to a parking garage where, according to Ben, people meet up to hang out and show off their cars.  Even if we’d splurged on a taxi to get there, without wi-fi, I had no idea how we would ever get back. That was a little disappointing, but it gives him (us) a reason to go back someday. I believe it’s always a good idea to leave wanting more.

Ben does want to go back, and not in small part because of the food. Japan has the greatest vending machines on the planet. Buying beverages feels like an adventure: hot, cold, exotic flavors, full of surprises. Once, I bought what I thought was a bottle of water, but no. I took a giant swig of some kind of clear alcohol, which I immediately wanted to spit out all over my fellow passengers on the train. But being a polite American, I choked it down. We also loved eating at 7/11 of all places. We discovered that Japan is also home to the greatest convenience-store food on the planet. But our favorite meal was at a tiny 5-table hibachi restaurant where Ben grilled us up some delicious chicken and steak. The place was so small that the waitress had to squeeze between the tables, brushing past our ears, carrying charcoal as hot as lava. It was a very dangerous business that would NEVER happen in the litigious United States of America. Ben loved it.

While cars were definitely our focus, we did manage to see and do a few other things. We sampled seafood at the famous Tsukiji fish market, visited a Buddhist temple where we received fortunes on strips of paper, and hung out in the Harajuko neighborhood shopping for vintage T’s and sipping coffee on a roof-top cafe.

We also canvased the restaurant supply district looking for fake food souvenirs, and played with cute little hedgehogs at a hedgehog cafe. Only in Japan!

It was a great mother/son trip at a time when sons don’t particularly want to hang out with their mothers. Good thing I’m a flight attendant.