Understanding Tokyo Addresses

On paper, Tokyo looks like the most convoluted and confusing city on earth. But once you understand how Japanese addresses differ from Western ones, finding your way around is a snap. Let me give you a brief lesson:

A typical address in Canada or the U.K. or the United States begins with a street number and street name, followed by the city -- postal listings in Japan are the exact opposite. Each street address contains three numbers that give you all the clues you need to find that location, but in descending geographic order. The first digit indicates the city district, the second is the block number, and the third is the building. It's also unlikely that the the street name will appear in the address (many smaller streets don't even have names) -- in its place, you'll find the ward within which that location lies. So an address like 2-2-1 Jinnan, Shibuya means the Jinnan-2 district, block 2, building 1. Sounds like a mess, right? The first time my very western-centric brain tried to comprehend this system, I thought, "How in the heck am I supposed to know what block is which? And what do you mean no street names? How do these people find their way around?"

Then I discovered a wonderful bilingual atlas that was a complete life-saver and the best $16 I spent preparing for this trip (it's highly recommended by expats who have permanently relocated to Tokyo, and I can now see why!) This is one of the most detailed city maps I have ever seen -- with each district laid out in exquisite detail, each block precisely numbered, and even the tiniest alleys and parks and landmarks included for your convenience. Simply flip to the page for your ward and start drilling down to the correct address. In a number of instances, all Matt and I had to go by was a street address for a particular restaurant or shop we wanted to check out, and no directions whatsoever -- but we never once ran into a problem. The most confusing aspect of locating a business comes from the fact that blocks are irregularly-shaped, and the entrance to a building could be on any side of that block -- we walked in a circle more than once to find some acceptable point of ingress. But honestly, if you can't maneuver around with this guide, you are suffering from a serious case of directional impairment, and should probably just stay home!

Pedestrians To The Left, Or Right?

To me, half the fun of exploring a new city is doing it on foot. When I'm traveling, I'm less worried about getting to my destination quickly, and more concerned about seeing as much as I can along the way. I am actively allergic to taxis (I've only taken two cabs in my life, and it's because I was with other people who refused to walk) -- so thank God that my husband is willing and able to keep up with me as I traverse a town on foot! Matt and I are big-time hoofers. We've walked from one end of Manhattan to another and back, wandered nearly every square mile of central London -- and Tokyo definitely falls into the category of pedestrian-friendly as long as you can stay out of the way of the bikes!

While bicycles haven't yet outnumbered cars, they are a major form of transportation in Tokyo -- for businessmen commuting to work, housewives running errands on their "mamacharis," and kids on their way to and from school. It makes sense for an overcrowded city that is concerned with becoming more green and trying to reduce traffic congestion -- especially when parking can easily cost upwards of $1000 a month! Some folks are daring enough to ride their bikes on the street (I would never be that brave, especially in a town where they drive on the left -- I'm certain I would forget where I was, end up face-to-face with a speeding taxi, and get flattened like a pancake!) But in most areas, the sidewalks are divided between walkers and cyclists -- it just took me a second to figure out exactly which half was mine! I thought that pedestrians ere assigned the left side of the pavement and wheeled vehicles the right -- until the day that I accidentally smashed some poor Japanese girl on her bike into a wall, not realizing she was coming up behind me (and she was the one worried about my well-being, bowing and apologizing and making sure I was unharmed!) Eventually, Matt and I discovered that bikes take the part of the sidewalk closest to the street, with pedestrians on the inside -- and we stopped being a danger to those trying to pedal their way past us.

That having been said, this knowledge is still not enough to prevent a head-on collision while walking through central Tokyo -- the bike-riders seem to go all over the place as they dart through intersections, swerve around pedestrians, and attempt to avoid crashing into stationary objects like light poles and vending machines. I learned a couple of lessons early on (pay attention, because these might save your life someday!) While walking, try to stay to the edge of the sidewalk, rather than planting yourself smack in the middle (Matt has a tendency to drift, and I was constantly pulling him out of the line of fire.) Avoid sudden stops and erratic changes in direction (at least without looking over your shoulder first to make sure you aren't about to be plowed over.) And when faced with a bike that seems prepared to run you down, you don't need to holler "it's coming right for us!" and bolt -- simply stand still and let the wheeled individual go around you. It's one thing to dance with another pedestrian on the street -- but if you get caught up in the "should-I-go-left-should-I-go-right-which-way-are-you-going" tango of locomotive indecision with a cyclist, you're dead!

I was also interested to see how accessible Tokyo is for the visually impaired -- there are literally miles and miles of tactile blocks (yellow "shikaku shogaisha yudoyo" bricks) sticking up from nearly every bit of pavement in town. Unlike American intersections which simply include bumps at points where the sidewalk and street merge, the Japanese provide a whole guidance system for blind pedestrians -- long grooves to indicate a straight path down the length of a block, advance warnings at staircases and drops, even a system for helping you find your way through the maze of train station hallways. I only saw one person with a white cane during our entire stay in Tokyo, but clearly the town is prepared for an international convention of the sight-impaired!

Which Train Line?

Unfortunately, Tokyo is just too damned big and spread out to be entirely walkable -- so Matt and I found ourselves relying on public transportation to take us to our starting point (and return us home again) on many days.

The train system seems to confuse visitors mightily, and many tourists avoid the rail in favor of taxis. But we quickly discovered that traveling by train in Japan is one of the easiest ways to get a long distance very quickly, as long as you know what you are doing. Tokyo has earned its reputation for a complicated rail system honestly, thanks to the fact that it has 5 different companies managing over 4 dozen separate train lines throughout the metropolitan area. It's easy to suffer from overload as you review a line map, trying to figure out the best way to your destination -- Japan Rail alone runs no less than 33 different lines across greater Tokyo! But only a few of the available options are designed for use by the casual tourist. Matt and I learned this lesson when we headed into a subway station, and were greeted by signs in nothing but Japanese -- no English translations anywhere. But you're good to go with Japan Rail -- JR stations have all signs in both languages, and usually sport a kiosk with an English-speaking ticket agent (this includes the Shinkansen bullet train, as well.)

Japan Rail is absurdly simple, once you figure it out. The Yamanote line goes in a circle around central Tokyo (the rail equivalent of Atlanta's perimeter or D.C.'s beltway) -- with other lines running out from these stations in other directions. Nearly any place of interest is accessible from either one of the Yamanote stops, or just a few stations away on another JR line. Purchasing a single-ride ticket at a self-service machine (available in English) simply requires you to know at which stop you want to get off -- look at the map, choose your destination station, and insert that number of yen in the machine. Then, you can choose your route -- these rail lines are almost entirely above-ground, so any way you go offers a great view of the city. For a scenic tour, take the Yamanote all the way around (it will take about an hour, because of all the stops) -- but if you need to get from one side of Tokyo to the other quickly, the rapid line straight across the city is a faster choice.

Some folks buy a JR pass to use for the duration of their stay, but I personally don't recommend it if you are simply traveling around central Tokyo like we did. First off, as a non-Japanese temporary visitor, you have to purchase your pass in advance before you arrive in country -- you can't simply walk up to a ticket window and buy one in Japan. And second, it's hideously expensive -- a pass for 14 days would have cost EACH of us nearly $600! Now granted, Matt and I would have been allowed to travel anywhere in the JR East area (all the way out to Osaka and Nagano, including the bullet train.) But we had no plan to wander the countryside -- we just needed a few stops here, a few stops there, all within Tokyo. On average, each ride on the JR cost us about $2 per person, and some days, we didn't ride at all -- so there is no way that a pass would have been worth the money. However, if you're heading out to far-flung regions each day, going to stops that would easily cost $35 or $50 or more round-trip, the pass is a great bargain.

Our home base was the Shinjuku station, known to be the busiest public transportation hub in the world, with more than 3.5 million people a day passing through. It also has over 200 exits, making it one of the easiest stations in which to get lost! Each line has its own cheery, cutesy, chimey little "you-have-arrived" song that plays as you exit the train -- the one for our major route sounded an awful lot like Bernstein and made me sing "Candide" for the rest of the day. It's actually impossible for a silly westerner like me NOT to sing along at each stop (something that, apparently, no self-respecting Japanese train rider does.) And if you're really enamored of these tunes, you can buy an alarm clock shaped like a rail car, with your choice of station songs to wake you in the morning (for those who just can't get enough public transportation in their lives!)

Train Etiquette For Westerners

If you're accustomed to riding subways in the U.S. or Europe, you'll find the train in Japan quite a bit different. Whether or not you have a place to sit depends on the type of rail -- on  express trains (like the one to Narita Airport) or the Shinkansen bullet train, your ticket comes with an assigned seat. However, on most JR trains in the city, the only seats are fold-down chairs intended for elderly, pregnant, and disabled riders. Unless you are severely incapacitated, you're expected to stand -- and during rush hour, there's no room to sit, even if you really need to. The only time in my life I have ever been so tightly packed was riding MARTA during the Atlanta Olympics. Let me say it now -- if you have personal space issues, DO NOT get on a train in Tokyo!

The worst we experienced was one evening around 8:00, coming back from Mt. Fuji (the rush hours in Japan seem to be later than in the U.S.) We were actually helping a family from San Diego who had never ridden the train get back to their hotel (fortunately, they were East Indian, and the mother and grandmother had both grown up in Mumbai, so they knew what to expect!) At each stop, the "pushers" (train employees hired to cram just a few more folks into each car) kept packing them in, to the point that I had a Japanese businessman practically laying in my lap. We were pressed together so tightly that I could tell whether the guy next to me was circumsized or not. But no one was going to go flying on a hard curve -- we were all well-padded, even if the train had crashed! I was in charge of keeping the 9-year-old daughter from being suffocated (her head barely reached high enough for her to get air above all the bodies), and I can see why few people travel with children during rush hour!

This leads me to another interesting phenomenon on Japanese trains. They've had a real problem lately with "groping" during rush hour -- sexually frustrated men are taking advantage of the tight quarters to cop a feel of any breast or bottom within reach. And Japanese women are too polite to pitch a fit (I never worried about being groped, even during the worst rush hours -- I think they know that a westerner will deliver a knee to the crotch without hesitation!) The solution was to create "women only" cars (clearly, lesbian groping isn't much of an issue in Japan!) From 7:30 to 9:30, morning and evening, these compartments are just for the XX set -- during the rest of the day, they are co-ed. However, the fact that men can ride in these sections of the train for a portion of the day does cause some confusion if you aren't paying attention to the time -- Matt and I accidentally got on one of these cars on our way out to Tokyo DisneySea, not realizing that it was rush hour. He glanced around and saw nothing but lovely female faces, politely ignoring his illicit presence -- we realized the mistake as the doors started to shut, and leapt back to the platform just in time to spare him an embarrassing transportation faux pas. Of course, none of the women on the train had said anything to him, and I don't know if a conductor would have come around and kicked him off. Or perhaps they would have waited until halfway to the next station, had him killed, and served him for lunch -- hard to say.

You might expect such close quarters to provoke a rash of bad behavior -- tempers flaring, arguments, even a bit of opportunistic pickpocketing. But from what I've seen, the Japanese are polite to a fault -- going past the point of stoicism and crossing into the realm of unconsciousness while riding on the train. Most people nap (I think Tokyo must be a sleep-deprived city, with as many folks as I've seen snoozing while standing up -- it's actually sort of impressive!) Some send text messages. Others read the newspaper or a bit of light manga porn on the way to work. But there are no loud conversations, no people yammering away in your ear talking on a cell phone, no disturbances from groups of rowdy teenagers. It's actually a bit unsettling to a westerner who likes to make eye contact and chat with strangers -- folks seem to travel in their own cocoons, oblivious to others around them (but not in an inconsiderate way), intentionally ignoring everything (even the person whose face is 3 inches from their own) until their stop arrives.

I personally spend my time people-watching, looking out the window, or snickering at the television. Each train car comes with a small TV screen, and shows a series of advertisements, public service announcements, and fun educational games (all in Japanese.) I've found these to be the most entertaining part of any trip -- the samurai in the Contac commercial who gets his head cut off because of an ill-timed sneeze, the old guy who is suddenly surrounded by Vegas-style female attention because of his energy drink, Santa eating french fries at McDonald's next to two ladies in kimono, and the talking cream-puff who teaches mathematics to kids. Matt and I were endlessly amused by these little bits of televisual entertainment, but we were the only ones who seemed effected -- everyone else was in a cryogenically frozen state, incapable of laughter.