By Editor Jonica Bray
Exhausted and frustrated, I pushed open the glass doors of the 7-Eleven and made a beeline for the chilled section to pick out dinner for my tired, hungry family.
Cream and strawberry sandwiches, raw spicy tuna and rice, or something fried on a stick?
There’s no doubt the options were plentiful, but another packaged meal wasn’t on my bingo card for our bucket list trip to Japan.
When I booked our flights to Osaka with my husband Clint and our three children, Jonty and Hendry, eight, and six-year-old Stanley, I’d heard so many great things about travelling there with kids.
Eating three meals a day from a convenience store was not one of them.
Where was all the sushi, sashimi and Yakitori? Why weren’t we in a cute little restaurant getting that authentic experience, steam rising, sipping saké and people-watching?
It was because we were not welcome.
In Japan, you can hire a boyfriend or dine at a café staffed by young women dressed as maids who call you ‘master’. You can pet hedgehogs or pigs. You can eat raw horse – basashi – or visit a love hotel in Asia’s largest red light district, Kabukicho.
But kids are ‘naughty and dirty’. Seriously.
During our two-week trip in June, I lost count of the number of restaurant staff who took one look at us and raised their arms in the cross position barking ‘no!’ or ‘full!’ as we peered in past their shoulders to see completely empty tables and chairs.
It wasn’t just restaurants – taxis drove straight past us on the street with their green lights shining. On the rare occasion when we did manage to flag one down, we were swiftly kicked out again.
I was beginning to feel offended – but I also wasn’t oblivious to the fact a big family comes with more noise, more bags, and greater potential for disruption.
By Australian standards, I’d say my kids are fairly typical. They are by no means wild. They sit at the table while eating and don’t run amok in the city. They don’t put their feet on train seats, nor do they throw tantrums in public.
The three brothers certainly have their moments and give each other the odd boisterous shove now and then. And sure, they can be irritable after a long day. Plus, they moan relentlessly about carrying their own bags.
I would compare them to Japanese kids we encountered… but I can’t, because we didn’t meet any. Not a single one.
Apparently, Japan’s population is declining and the average household with children just has one. Still, they must have been hiding somewhere because I never saw one.
I’m not exaggerating here: in two weeks I did not see a single Japanese kid under the age of 16 on a train or bus, in a shop, at a playground, on the street, at the beach or in a restaurant.
Yes, it wasn’t school holidays in Japan, but we had two weekends there and evenings, too. The whole country felt like a child-free zone.
Okay, Disneyland was different – but only just. I’d say the adults outnumbered children at least 50 to one. Universal Studios in Osaka was more like 100 to one. And the kids we did see were mostly Western tourists.
Once we were out of the city, it didn’t get any better. Our hotel in Mt Fuji gave us a back room with no view as soon as they realised we were travelling with children.
The room was booked for five adults – only because there was no other option on the website. We’d been promised a view, only to be ushered with much tut-tutting down the corridor to the last available room. Out of sight, out of mind.
Halfway through our trip, we met up with some friends from Australia who also have three children. As we gathered our broods at a busy train station in Tokyo to head to our hotel, things got worse.
We had nothing but eye-rolls and dirty looks, and when one tired seven-year-old sat down next to her bag as we tried to work out the map, several passengers stormed over aggressively telling her she was ‘naughty’ and ‘dirty’.
It had to be us, I thought. We must be doing something wrong because all I’ve ever heard back home is: ‘Go to Japan! They love kids! It’s so family friendly.’
So, that night I googled, ‘What is considered rude in Japan?’
The results came in thick and fast.
Blowing your nose, eating on the street, eating while standing, mishandling chopsticks, leaving chopsticks facing up, passing food with chopsticks.
Tipping, public displays of affection, crossing your legs on public transport, chewing, making noise.
Pointing with your finger, not removing your shoes, using bathroom slippers outside of the bathroom, drinking your glass dry.
Getting out of the elevator first, making direct eye contact, talking loudly, talking on your phone, giving or receiving money with one hand, bringing towels into bathing areas.
‘Wow, it would perhaps be a shorter list if they told me what’s not rude in Japan,’ I muttered to my husband.
Looking deeper, I read that children in Japan are supposed to be independent by grade six and some schools don’t even employ janitors because the students do all the cleaning and upkeep.
In 2016, Japan’s strict parenting culture became a cause célèbre when a couple left their seven-year-old in a forest as punishment for throwing stones at cars. Little Yamato Tanooka was missing for six nights before being found safe and well.
It sparked conversations around the expectations of children and if society was too harsh on parents whose children didn’t fit into the meek, well-mannered expectations.
I’m not saying they are wrong or that anyone should be changing hundreds of years of tradition and culture to appease Western families on their two-week holidays.
But I am saying our expectations for our Japanese holiday were vastly different to the reality.
My husband and I have travelled a lot with our children – and I’m not just talking the usual tourist hubs for Australians, like Bali and Fiji.
We’ve done Vanuatu, France, Namibia and South Africa – plus, trips to Thailand, Malaysia and Korea. We loved the Philippines and had a great time in Hong Kong. Returning to Britain, my native country, is always a joy.
But Japan is not a country I would recommend to anyone with children under the age of 15, and it’s certainly not a destination I will be going back to.
It’s not just the locals either – the transport system is outdated and clunky. Yeah, bullet trains are fast, but booking a seat costs as much as a flight and you have to negotiate buying multiple tickets because trains are owned by different companies.
Everything is time-consuming. Despite being the country that produced Nintendo and Sony, the technology is outdated – and you’d better be prepared to walk. Everywhere.
We were doing about 10km a day – even clocking 20km on a couple of busy days – and that was after carefully planning our days to avoid excessive walking.
But one thing I did love? 7-Eleven.
Yes, we have them back home, but 7-Eleven in Japan is a different beast entirely and I adore it. They have a divine skincare selection, amazing egg sandwiches and sweet treats that compete with the best Paris pâtisseries. Five stars. Would recommend.