Japan Diaries: DisneySea & Returning Home
To quote Bill and Ted, this has been a most excellent adventure
This is the final entry in my Japan travel series. Here you can find Part I, Part II, and Part III. Writing about our trip has helped me live in it a little longer. But I also need to wrap this up so I can get to more current stuff going on, because life has been bonkers ever since we got back home. Thank you for indulging me during my detailed reminiscing!
You may recall that I adore theme parks, so for the final stop of our trip, I scheduled two days at Tokyo DisneySea. Unique to Japan, this particular park was designed by local imagineers specifically for a Japanese audience, with a theme less focused on characters and more so on myths and legends of the sea. Instead of a princess castle at the end of Main Street, there is a smoking volcano on the waterfront. Tokyo Disney Resort sits on an outcropping of land jutting into Tokyo Bay, creating a panoramic ocean view. On the day we arrived back in Tokyo, the sea was a stormy gray, slants of rain streaking the windows of the train. I hoped the weather would keep crowd levels down and remained thankful I brought waterproof hiking shoes.
In addition to the sleet, I was battling a bout of motion sickness from the shinkansen ride. My middle-aged equilibrium hadn’t fully recovered from an attempt to play Star Wars Battle Pod in an arcade in Akihabara the previous week; I lasted about forty-five seconds in the Battle of Hoth before bailing out of the pod—the barf risk was too high. Meanwhile, Kurt sat next to me on the bullet train, unbothered and eating a fluffy cheesecake he purchased at Shin-Osaka Station; when they pulled his cake out of the oven, the workers sang a song to it. I was able to enjoy some cake later in our hotel room, where I drank Chilean wine purchased at the konbini for 580 yen ($4 USD) and watched Mad Max: Fury Road with Japanese subtitles.
I won’t get too deep in the weeds on Disney park culture because I think that appeals to maybe two of my readers tops, but one of the wild location-specific things I’d learned while researching is that everyone gets to DisneySea several hours before opening because you can’t reserve lightning passes until you’ve been scanned through the front gate. We set an early alarm, then filed out of the hotel shortly after 7 a.m., joining other guests trickling into the monorail station decked out in Mickey ears.
The line at the park gate was boisterous with chatter, a stark contrast from the silence of the train. Most of the weekday crowd was made up of local teens and young adults. Around us, girls passed the time by doing each other’s nails or applying makeup using full kits they pulled out of their large tote bags. We inched our way toward the gate and through the meticulous security line, where smiling cast members sanitized the tray for personal items between each guest and inspected each umbrella. Then we were in! What a rush, to enter a new theme park for the first time and drink in all the details, the greedy thrill of wanting to experience it all, like we’re all suddenly Veruca Salt singing “I want it now!.” A well-planned theme park is calibrated to deliver a steady stream of joy—popcorn buckets this way! Thrill rides that way—punctuated by nostalgia kicking in before a moment has fully passed by. My fingers were numbed from the long wait in wintry temperatures, but I couldn’t stop clacking through the app on my phone, snapping up the free anniversary passes for the most sought-after rides. It was the absolute best kind of chaos.
Some of the highlights from our two days at DisneySea:
Theme parks nerds often rank DisneySea as the greatest of all Disney parks because of the fully immersive feeling in each of its distinctive lands. My favorite was Mysterious Island, a steampunk fantasy world surrounding the volcano. Kurt’s favorite was Mermaid Lagoon, an enclosed cave with dayglo lights evoking sea anemone and floating jellyfish. In the Neverland corner of Fantasy Springs, you could actually board the pirate ship floating in the harbor by the Skull Waterfall. I chuckled at a cargo box labeled “Puffy shirts” (I really hope that was the work of a Japanese Seinfeld fan).
Having been to all of the U.S. Disney parks, I loved the unique experience of visiting a location in a different country. All of the ride dialog and songs were in Japanese, so my focus shifted to taking in the ways that the music, track changes, and special effects help tell a story. I also enjoyed seeing the reactions of other riders. On Tower of Terror, our car filled with teenage girls began screaming the moment the elevator doors slid shut, and didn’t pause until the moment the camera snapped our photo, when they all posed in unison flashing peace signs.
There was clearly a Disney fit among the locals: groups of friends dressed identically, using a character as their shared theme. In one moment you’d see a quartet of girls in matching schoolgirl uniforms, penny loafers, and furry white leg warmers wearing white cat ears and a pink bow as Marie from The Aristocats. Next you’d pass a girl gang in black moto-style leather jackets, black platform sneakers, and Baymax hats from Big Hero 6. Fashion took priority over dressing for the weather, but everyone carried an umbrella and hand warmers just in case.
Kawaii culture (“cute” culture) really shows up in the food and snacks. Some of my favorites included Mickey macarons and a Mount Fuji-inspired custard pudding.
While in line for the roller coaster Raging Spirits, Kurt was asked twice by different cast members if they could measure him to make sure he wasn’t too tall for the ride. This will never stop delighting me.
At the end of the day, my smartwatch clocked us at 22,000 steps; the remaining bottle of cheap wine and leftover cheesecake in our hotel room felt well earned.
On our very last day in Japan, we leaned into tradition, visiting a rescue cat cafe, staying at a ryokan in the historic neighborhood Asakusa, and having an omakase (chef’s choice) dinner at a nearby sushi restaurant. The last day of any long trip feels like a bittersweet liminal space; you haven’t physically left yet but your thoughts are geared towards preparing for departure, remembering all of the final to-do list items like returning the pocket wifi and pre-checking a bag in the United app because you bought way too many gachapon, anticipating reuniting with your pets with big snuggly hugs. We arrived in Chicago safely with flavored Kitkats in tow, stories for our loved ones practically bursting out of us.
A few days after we got home, my sister jokingly texted me “Are you forever changed?” Honestly I kinda am! Not just because of the trip but because of the last few months and its breadth of experiences, the reminders of how precious life is, how quickly things can change. The Japanese notion of impermanence resonated deeply with me; a country that prides itself on retaining its rich history and traditions is also aware that all things are transient, especially with its precarious position in the Pacific Ring of Fire.
Within days of returning from our bucket list trip, Kurt and I were inundated with life stuff to deal with—family illnesses, a tree falling on our garage causing thousands of dollars of damage to our backyard, and the declining health of our cat Esteban, the first pet we adopted together. Our home country is certainly a hot mess right now, and after a two-week break from the news it was a harsh re-entry into present-day reality. Life can come at you fast and sometimes I feel like I’m spinning my wheels—some of my creative projects feel plateaued, I’m nearly a decade deep into a career I stumbled into almost accidentally, I am only getting older and achier. And yet, I feel all the more certain that I know what I want from my life and what I need to be happy: be goofy and curious and adventurous. Sing Chappell Roan at the karaoke bar. Visit all the theme parks and wear ears without caring if you get called a Disney adult. Eat something new even if you don’t know what it is. Take that long hike to the end of the trail because you can. Sleep somewhere uncomfortable to remind yourself of your incredible ability to adapt to your surroundings.
May you choose your own next adventure!
My favorite paragraph-- “Are you forever changed?”
I think that travel of any kind changes us in some ways. As you say, the breadth of experiences and reminders of how precious our one life is. That's exactly why I travel while I can-because nothing is permanent. What will you do with your one precious life?! Whatever it is, my motto is, do it NOW.
Beautifully written!