Japan, a land of contrasts where the buzz of city life harmonizes with the serene embrace of rural landscapes, has always beckoned me as the ultimate sanctuary for a creative reboot. With each visit, it’s as if Japan whispers, “Welcome back,” promising a jolt of culture shock to stir my artistic spirit into uncharted territories.
The idea first tiptoed into my mind’s wanderings about three years ago, a hazy collage of images and snippets, like a mood board brought to life. But as the pandemic slammed shut borders, those dreams became captives of our collective imagination, yearning for liberation.
Fast forward to 2023, and it was time to turn those nebulous fantasies into concrete plans. Summoning the courage of a seasoned dreamer, I punched in flight details, transforming vague desires into tangible dates. Narita Airport became my gateway to adventure, while Naoshima, the fabled art island, awaited me on the auspicious occasion of my birthday. My vision: me, gazing out at the vast expanse of ocean, ensconced amidst awe-inspiring art installations and monumental architecture, all serving as the ultimate birthday gift to myself—a poignant punctuation mark in my itinerary.
But what lay beyond that? Cue the wide-eyed gaze into the abyss of my 40-day itinerary.
At first, my inner rebel urged me to embrace spontaneity: “I’m on sabbatical, for crying out loud! I’m untethered, not bound by any system!” I protested. But as reality sobered me up, I realized that navigating from Tokyo to Naoshima, and then wherever else my whims led, wouldn’t be as easy as closing my eyes and clicking my heels.
And so, the odyssey of planning commenced—a delicate dance between longing and logistics, between the thrill of spontaneity and the embrace of structure. Here’s how it all unfolded.
Defining the Route.
Until now, I’d been indulging in the romantic and metaphorical aspects of my journey—pondering life’s unexplored corners, the goals lurking beneath symbolic rocks I hadn’t yet overturned, and the philosophical blooms within me.
But let’s get real, shall we?
Inspired by the tantalizing glimpses of Japan’s wonders flooding my Instagram feed, I delved into YouTube travel videos for firsthand accounts of budget-friendly accommodations and off-the-beaten-path gems. These virtual voyages not only stoked my excitement but also provided invaluable insights into the practicalities of long-term travel. Armed with newfound knowledge, I began crafting a wishlist of destinations. With Narita Airport and my birthday in Naoshima as my anchors, I meticulously connected the dots on the map, selecting each destination with care to strike a balance between adventure and introspective tranquility.
Perhaps the most daunting aspect of planning lay in the logistics of navigating Japan’s vast expanse. With distances measured not in miles but in hours of travel, the task of navigating the country’s extensive rail network loomed large before me. Reluctantly, I plunged headfirst into the challenge armed with timetables and train passes, inevitably leaving a few destinations on the cutting room floor—reserved for future rendezvous with Japan.
My research led me to chart a course from the bustling streets of Tokyo to the serene shores of Naoshima, then onward to the northern reaches of Japan via Osaka, Kyoto, Mt. Fuji, Aomori, Sapporo, and Asahikawa, before circling back to Tokyo. It felt akin to coloring in the intricate pages of an adult coloring book, with the satisfaction of filling in those final fields with two cities I’d only discovered a week prior but whose natural beauty and culture had immediately captivated me.
That route, my friends, became my pièce de résistance—my MAGNUM OPUS.
WHERE TO Rest My Weary Head?
Amidst the whirlwind of excitement and discovery, the ever-practical voice of budget-consciousness would rear its head and wag a stern finger in my direction. “You’re not exactly rolling in dough at the moment, missy!” it chided.
As a solo female traveler navigating the realms of budget constraints, every yen counted. Safety and practicality took center stage in my quest for accommodation. Gone were the days of carefree hotel bookings, where I’d click “reserve” with the nonchalance of an easy, breezy Cover Girl. Now, with a tight budget, safety concerns, and the sensibilities of a solo traveler, I delved deep into the labyrinth of Google tabs, scouring user reviews to ensure no stone was left unturned and no dodgy neighborhood was risked. It was all about finding that elusive sweet spot between comfort and frugality.
Spreadsheet Savvy: From Chaos to Color-Coded Bliss.
At this juncture, I found myself swirling in a whirlwind of scattered information—booking receipts here, email confirmations there, all arriving from different corners of the digital universe.
Enter the unsung hero of this entire odyssey: Spreadsheets. Once the thorn in my side, often the butt of my jokes, now my knight in shining armor and newfound object of affection.
Here’s the lowdown:
1) Day-by-day itinerary: Cities, accommodations, and key activities, with room for spontaneity and play.
2) Transport logistics: Train connections mapped out, with timetables and costs meticulously accounted for.
3) Budget breakdown: A comprehensive tally of expenses, ensuring I stayed within budget while still indulging in moments like the dreamy Ryokan stay in Kyoto and a requisite whisky sip at the Park Hyatt Tokyo bar a la Lost in Translation.
the JR Pass will be worth it.
Amidst the frenzy of data entry and the monotony of number crunching, something remarkable happened. I discovered a side of myself previously unknown—a side that reveled in organizing, categorizing, and color-coding data as if my life depended on it. At one point, it almost became an obsession, my favorite evening pastime! As I surveyed my handiwork—a vibrant mosaic of destinations and budgets (all in the spring color palette of cherry blossom season, naturally)—I couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. Turns out, there’s something oddly satisfying about being organized.
“But you’re a CREATIVE, Shelley!” I said to myself. “You’re not meant to be organized!” Yet, as I continued painting each section in different hues, I silenced that nagging voice.
Armed with spreadsheets and dreams, I stand ready to pen the next chapters of my life. And as I take that first step into the unknown, I’m reminded of the words of my ceramics teacher as I struggled with the pottery wheel: “Enjoy the process.”
And enjoy it, I shall.
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