Authenticism

Tried the authentic Japanese experience. No, not the tea-ceremonies, kimonos or shinto shrines. Rather, sleeping on a Japanese-style futon, which is basicallly a thin mattress on the floor. It may work if you weigh 40 kilos, but it certainly is not my cuppa, reminding me far too much of uncomfortable camping trips.

Then, commuting on the early morning 1-hour train from suburbia to Tokyo. For each stop getting increasingly filled up with suited salarymen reading porn manga, office ladies plonking away at their mobiles, young punks listening to music and shortskirted girls applying make-up.

Being lucky enough to salvage a seat after 20 minutes I could even enter the classic Japanese state of semi-conscious subway sleep, slowly rocked by the beat of the tracks.

My bout of authenticism happily ends when reaching the city, instead of heading to the office for 10+ hours of wageslavery, off to my hotel-apto to check mail and catch some sleep in a real bed!