Bullet Train! Blow-by-blows to Tokyo

Contemplating the nature of civilization on the Shinkansen

It is 2:53 pm in Mishima and my boyfriend, Josh and I have just boarded our very first bullet train. Since we booked the ticket Friday, we have taken to whispering the name of the famous line “Shinkansen” to ourselves. It’s real fun to say, especially if you say it softly and quickly, like a cherry blossom petal drifting on the wind.

We opted to take this route even though it meant a longer journey back to Tokyo. It also meant a pit stop in a non touristy place, how refreshing. I wanted to take at least one high speed train ride as I’ve heard so much about them. I have been dwelling on what to write for my Substack since we arrived in Japan on Wednesday night last week. Attempting to write while travelling roughly 180 mph seems like a novel way to capture a fleeting moment.

Photo by Josh Bruce.

It’s 2:55 and the train was meant to leave at 2:54. This is unexpected. Every other mode of transport we’ve taken in Japan has left exactly on the minute. We arrived a few hours earlier via bus. We observed these trains whizzing by with gusto. I tried to get a video, but I was too slow. Why can’t the US or Australia have trains this fast?

I knew nothing about Japan before we got here. We looked at tickets for months in advance, but they were all very expensive. Then two weeks ago, we found a last minute JetStar flight that returned to Australia overnight, followed by a fun five hour layover in Brisbane before we get into Sydney. It was not as long as we wanted, and it was not cheap. But, it was cheaper than the previous options and we still got to go to freaking Japan.

At 2:58 the train leaves Mishima. It doesn’t seem to be going as insanely fast as the previous trains we saw… oh wait, now it seems we’re picking up speed. I’m peeping out the window, looking over Josh. He always gets the window seat as he appreciates the views more than I do. Mountains are in the distance, and we are passing quickly through tunnels. No one is talking around me. A passenger to my left is reading a book in vertical Japanese. I wonder if he can read these English words I’m typing on my laptop. I feel like I’m typing quite loudly. I hope it isn’t annoying him.

On this trip I keep thinking about my old boss of whom I used to regularly have deep and meaningfuls with. He’s never left the country, but he knows far more about the world than I could ever dream. I envy his thirst for knowledge and the way he retains it. I’m curious about things, but only once they’ve been flung in front my face; this is one of my many reasons I adore travel.

A catchy little jingle has gone off, and we are arriving at a new station. People are standing to disembark.

“We will soon make a brief stop at Atami. The exit will be on the left side of the train” a woman announces in English (prerecorded) after the Japanese version is announced. The passengers are encouraged to be ready before the train stops.

Before I went to Buenos Aires in 2024, my boss encouraged me to look into the Falkland Islands once I arrived. I did and wrote about it also. As a result, I started thinking about so many ridiculous aspects of land ownership. If I still worked for him, he would have a factoid about Japan that would have given me a Substack idea, no doubt.

This morning on the bus from Lake Kawaguchiko To Mishima I listened to a podcast, a short history of Japan, produced by the BBC. I fell asleep a few times and had to replay it. On the flight to Tokyo, a similar thing happened. I listened to Johann Hari’s Stolen Focus and, again, fell asleep multiple times, even though the story is fascinating! One day I dream of finding time to abandon my smart phone and take a sabbatical to Cape Cod. Like Hari, I’d love to surround myself with books, interesting locals and scenic walks by the ocean.

Speaking of, we just got, I think, a glimpse of the ocean? A body of water glistened past before we entered another tunnel. The passenger beside me has changed. This person looks at his phone.

Is the soothing sound of calm British accents a trick for sleeping? We can call it the David Attenborough affect. I’ve slept better this last week than I have in years in Australia. In Lake Kawaguchiko we stayed in a traditional Japanese hotel, our futons low on the floor. I wondered if sleeping on it would be challenging, but every night I drifted off instantly, despite the sparkling sake I drank before bed. In my normal life when I drink too much wine I typically wake up around 3am, tossing and turning until morning. Japan has hit the rest and reset button.

Photo by Josh Bruce

“We will soon make a brief stop at Odawara” the English voice tells us.

Josh is taking photos out the window. The seat mate on my left has gone somewhere, leaving his bright green backpack on the floor and his fanny pack-esque bag on the seat. Are there snacks somewhere on the bullet train like the XPT has from Maitland to Sydney? Maybe that’s where he’s going. Maybe that’s where I should be going.

Countless friends have told me of Japan’s wonders; now that I’m here I am finally interested. I get it. I apologize to any weeb friend I have not listened to in previous times. (Weeb is another word I’ve recently learned. Maybe I am a weeb now?)

We had a traditional Japanese style breakfast this morning and of course as a vegetarian I had to give at least half of it to Josh, but nevertheless every bit I could eat was delicious, delectable and different, with hints at other cultures as well: a caprese salad, a little carton of yogurt. Coffee with cream on your way back to your room.

I have been thinking about culture, how to preserve it and which are worth saving. Maybe I shouldn’t think like that, but as I’m obsessed with travel I can’t help but have these troubling thoughts sometimes. Ideally we could save them. I’d like to keep the good parts of all of them. All of them have good parts.

Why do some cultures thrive and some fail? I mulled over this yesterday with Josh as we walked the perfectly manicured streets of Kawaguchiko, pontificating what might happen if certain states or territories across the world were dedicated exclusively to tourism and preserving culture.

Josh pushed back.

“Culture is always changing; it’s the survival of the strongest ideas,” he told me.

And while I do want to capture all the different cultures and keep them in my collection (a very Western individualistic way to think about culture I’m well aware), a million cultures have already existed that myself and no one else alive know about. That makes me sad. Maybe it doesn’t have to be this way, or maybe this is the nature of civilizations.

In the History of Japan podcast earlier, the narrator discussed how, in 1854, an American man named Matthew C Perry came to Japan and basically told everyone they could either trade with America in a friendly manner or alternatively America would make things very difficult for them. History writers credit him for ending Japan’s isolationism which was very strong prior to that. A bloody civil war followed, the Boshin. It was over two conflicting ideologies: being open to the West vs remaining isolationist. (Obviously it’s far more nuanced than this, but what can I say, I’m on the Shinkansan.) Then after World War Two, Japan underwent a massive cultural shift. But during and before the Boshin War, many people were not happy about opening up to the West. Eight thousand men died over it in fact.

From my humble five days in Japan, I can see that this country has beautifully preserved its culture despite the Western influences. Yes there’s plenty of English and Starbucks, and they’ve been quite impressive with their unique evolution of the Seven11, but, also, people still bow to one another! People worship at temples and shrines. I’ve now had two onsen baths which were both amazing. Anime characters adorn everything, as do bonsai trees in the suburbs. I can imagine how much more different it might have been 200 years ago, isolated from the West.

While I listened to the podcast this morning, I casually scrolled my socials, much to Johan Hari’s hypothetical disappointment. I regrettably read Trump’s latest Easter tweet. I rarely include his input in my Substack, but today it seems relevant, as he aggressively shamed Americans on the left for becoming too welcoming to certain types of immigrants.

Would the Japanese have seen Mathew C Perry as a disrupting Trump-like figure 170 years ago? I have no idea what kind of person Matthew C Perry was. I’m just saying, powerful people can make casual decisions and completely change the course of history, for better or worse.

These are the thoughts you have on the bullet train.

Donald Trump would maybe even applaud Japan’s current immigration policy. I was reading about this too. It’s not easy to migrate to Japan, particularly if you’re a refugee or an asylum seeker. Is this part of the reason Japan has preserved its culture so well? It’s worth mentioning that their birthrates are currently plummeting, as is the case in many Western countries.

History repeats itself. I think about my boss, passport-less, but with a wisdom of the old world that is perhaps now being lost.

I hate thinking about politics on our idyllic, speedy train trip back to Tokyo after several days of delighting in cherry blossoms, big mountains and ice caves. But as I continue to chase novelty and eat Matcha-flavored ice cream and live in the moment as is my life ethos, the bigger picture is always lurking in the background. There’s always the looming possibility of everything falling apart.

The doomsday clock says we are currently 89 seconds to midnight.

”We will soon make a brief stop at Shin-Yokahama.”

The time now is 3:31. We are set to arrive at 3:48. I’ll take these next few minutes to go over the above, see if it’s salvageable for tonight’s Substack. We continue to zoom through cityscapes and back into the tunnels again.

”We will soon make a brief stop at Shinogaya.”

I’m not sure I’ve written anything useful or interesting. I never am. I will make sure to include some pictures. Better yet some of Josh’s.

Photo by Josh Bruce

The jingle started again. It is 3:46. Our train is arriving. It is time to get our bags and go back to Tokyo.

*Please note. I went on to edit this Substack for a few more hours after I typed out the original draft.