The new (better) Bali
“Don’t lick the tray table!” I warned my three-year-old as we boarded the plane to Tokyo.
His bottom lip dropped and he whined, “Are we there yet, Dad?”
“No, we’re still on the runway, mate”, I sighed.
Still, I knew that wedging myself into an economy seat next to germ-boy for the next 10 hours would be well worth it. After all, Japan is the thinking man’s Bali. (In fact, Bali was dethroned as Aussies’ favourite spot for international travel on last year’s Expedia ranking.)
So it’s official: Kuta is cringe … Kyoto is cool.
And the figures back this up: the number of Aussies visiting Japan in May this year is up a staggering 63% on last year, according to the Japan National Tourism Organization (JNTO).
Why?
Well, because for many Aussies Japan is a parallel world:
Everyone is impeccably polite and respectful.
Their subway system is cheap, clean, safe and on time (as in, to the second).
Their public toilets are cleaner than mine at home … and they sing when you flush them.
Yet the biggest thing you notice is that food is really cheap. Unlike in Australia, where you have to Afterpay a banana, in Japan we would load up on good-quality gyoza, sandwiches and bao buns from the 7-Eleven for A$3 a pop … or we’d grab a bowl of ramen at a restaurant for less than A$10.
This is a far cry from the go-go 80s when Tokyo was one of the most expensive cities in the world.
Yet with their economy a chopstick away from a recession, and the yen plummeting – it’s now 25% cheaper to visit than since before the bat-flu – Tokyo has actually become a shopper’s paradise (especially given that in most department stores you can shop tax-free simply by showing your passport).
Ring those bloody registers!
This explains why ‘G’day’ to a Japanese shop owner translates to ‘kerching’: Aussie tourists are (per capita) the biggest spenders in Japan, according to the JNTO.
Not that I got to do much shopping.
A few days into our trip, germ-boy predictably came down with a fever … and promptly gave influenza to his mother, sister and two brothers. They couldn’t lift their heads from their futons. So I spent the last week in a hotel room roughly the size of a Kia Carnival – with no windows or natural air – playing doctor Scott.
Sayonara, Tokyo!
Tread Your Own Path!