(2019 Update!) 5 Apps to Download Before Your Trip To Japan

If you just love missing your bus because you waited in the wrong place, overpaying for things because you can't remember the exchange rate, or wandering around for hours looking for a wi-fi spot in vain - stop reading now, because this one's not for you.

I'd like to share with you five super-useful apps to download before you travel to Japan!

Whatever you've got planned in Japan, these apps should get you well-prepared.

1) HyperDia

Once you look past the sometimes awkward-sounding English (when Hyperdia tells you "TAKE TIME", it's not wishing you a leisurely trip, but telling you the duration of your journey), it's a solid tool for navigating Japan's wonderful rail system.

Hyperdia's app, just like the website, allows you to plan journeys and search timetables for (almost) all of Japan's train services. In English! It also benefits from the "Japan Rail Pass Search", which as you might guess allows you to search for routes you can take with the JR pass.

Hyperdia: App Store | Google Play

2) Norikae Annai - in English!

Norikae Annai is Japan's most-downloaded travel app. It's easier to navigate than Hyperdia, much more nicely designed and more user-friendly. The catch used to be that it was only available in Japanese. But now it’s available in an English version too, called Norikae Annai - Japan Transit Planner.

Norikae Annai - Japan Transit Planner: App Store | Google Play

3) Tokyo Subway Navigation

I LOVE the Tokyo Subway Navigation app, because as well as transfer information it also has a fully offline, pinch-and-zoom map of - you guessed it - Tokyo's metro system.

Good for getting to grips with (what often seems like) the world's most complex underground rail system!

Tokyo Subway Navigation: App Store | Google Play

4) Apps for Free Wi-Fi

Even if you don't want to be connected all the time, you'll probably want wifi at some point on your travels. Japan Travel by Navitime is an app with an offline map showing free wifi spots. It also has free downloadable offline maps of all the major cities in Japan.

Japan Connected-free Wi-Fi, similarly, has an offline map showing free wifi.

(Or you could just do what I do on holiday and stand outside McDonalds pretending to wait for someone while actually using the free internet. That's cool too, right?)

Japan Travel by Navitime: App Store | Google Play

Japan Connected-free Wi-Fi:  App Store | Google Play

5) XE Currency

Not Japan-specific, but definitely useful.

Until the exchange rate hits a nice easy number like 100 yen to the pound, you'll probably want a currency converter so you can figure out how far your spending money's going to go. And the XE converter works offline, too.

XE Currency: App Store | Google Play

So that's what's in my "essential Japan travel apps" folder! What's in yours? Let me know in the comments.

First published March 2016; updated 15 October, 2019

A Visit to Yokohama's Unko Museum (GUEST POST!)

I am delighted to introduce this guest post from Step Up Japanese student Philip Kinchington!

When I (Fran) heard that Phil was going to Yokohama's new poop museum on his recent trip to Japan, I knew there'd be some good photos in the pipeline...

So I was really pleased that he agreed to share these photos with you and this report from the Unko Museum.

(We got his friends' permission to use their photos too. When you’ve seen the photos, it'll be clear why this was important.)

Over to you, Phil! Yoroshiku ne!

On my recent visit to Tokyo I managed to meet up with my friends Tomo and Taka. They have a knack for sniffing out the most interesting and bizarre places to visit (the last time I met up with them they took me to the Monster Kawaii Cafe in Harajuku and then the Ramen Museum in Yokohama).

This time I was given the choice between the Kaiju Cafe in Kawasaki, or the Unko Museum (うんこミュージアム) in Yokohama. I had already been instructed by the mutual friend who introduced me to Tomo and Taka that I had to go to the Unko Museum or they would very disappointed in me, so the choice was simple (we ended up going to the Kaiju Cafe anyway, so it turned out to be a consequence free choice.)

うんこ (unko) is the Japanese equivalent word for poo-poo or poop, often used by small children. And while it is called a museum, it is more of a kind of crazy art installation with photo opportunities and a few interactive exhibits. There is very little of educational value beyond a display of some poop-themed toys from around the world.

While waiting for entry to the Museum, we were given the leaflet for the museum which doubled as a little spot-the-differences puzzle. We were also encouraged to don a 'poop-hat' for a photo opportunity (this will become a recurring theme.)

All photos courtesy of Phil Kinchington 💩

After queuing we were gathered into a group of about a dozen people and escorted into a small ante-chamber for instruction (none of which I understood.) Once the instructions had been delivered, we were encouraged to shout "UNKO!!" in unison before being directed through a curtain into the next room.

We found ourselves in a long, narrow room with half a dozen pastel-coloured thrones along one wall. We were directed to take our places on a throne and to make 'straining' faces for the obligatory photo opportunity.

Once they felt that enough photos had been taken, we were told to stand up and look into the bowl of the throne.

A souvenir poop to take away as a gift from the Museum. We were then funnelled from this room into the main Museum area. As we left the room, we were each handed a stick to place our souvenir poop onto for the convenience of carrying.

On entering the main room of the exhibition, we came face-to-face with a ball pit, at the centre of which was a giant poop sculpture (the Poop Volcano, apparently.) As we entered, a countdown was projected onto the side of the Poop Volcano.

10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1...0…

...and a fountain of small foam poops spray out of the top of the volcano. Two attendants came over to the edge of the ball pit carrying a giant, lidded potty. The children in the ball pit were then told to gather all of the foam poops and deposit them in the potty as quickly as they could. I have no idea what the purpose of this exercise was.

From here we worked our way around the other areas of the exhibition in a clockwise direction. First up was a handful of video games repurposed with a poop theme, or some kind of poop element.

Around the corner from the video games was another game, but one that was more physically interactive.

Near the end of the video I ask the rhetorical question "how old am I?" The official answer to this is (nearly) 44, but that's only because was a bit nervous and stuttered when asked my age.

Next was a room (sadly no photo) with three microphones and a large screen. The screen displayed what looked like a hosepipe pointing upwards from the bottom of the screen in front of each microphone. The instructions said to shout "UNKO!!" into the microphone. On doing this a poop was produced out of the appropriate hosepipe on the screen. It appeared that the louder you shouted, the larger the poop that was summoned, and the longer you held the shout, the poop would continue to float above the end of the hosepipe.

The remainder of the Museum was really just a series of photo opportunities (one of which looked worryingly like my Drawing Room at home.)

The Unko Museum is currently open in the Aso Building a short walk from Yokohama Station. The exhibition opened on 15th March 2019, but it is only open until 15th July, so you'd better be quick if you want to visit. You can find more information on their website (日本語だけ).

After the Unko Museum, we went to the zoo. They only had one animal, a small dog. It was a Shitzu.

P.S. Have you been somewhere cool and Japan-related that you’d like to share with us? Perhaps you have an interesting Japanese hobby or interest? Would you like to write a guest blog post for Step Up Japanese? I’d love to hear from you! Click here to get in touch! 

Hiking the Shikoku 88 Pilgrimage Trail in 2018 - A Round-Up

The week I spent last spring walking the first leg of the Shikoku 88 pilgrimage trail was peaceful, thought-provoking, and challenging - often all at once.

Here’s all my writing about that trip in one place.

Part 1 - Plan, plan, plan!

Are you a planner? Or a no-planner?

Some people like to "wing it" when they travel. They book a ticket and turn up, deciding what to do once they arrive. Me, I like to have things planned out. Especially when the trip involves a week of solo walking in Japan…

Click here to read Part 1 - Plan, plan, plan!

Part 2 - The Best First Day in Japan

Spoiler alert: this post isn't about the Shikoku pilgrimage, although it is about the same trip. It's about what I did with my spare first day in Nagoya: the lost day...

Arriving first thing in the morning on a long-haul flight is not ideal. You're tired, jet-lagged and yet you need to stay awake until a normal bedtime, so you can adjust your body clock.

I had almost 12 hours to kill on that first day, and was waiting for my friends to finish work.

So what do you do with a whole day to yourself?

Ciick here to read Part 2 - The Best First Day in Japan

Part 3 - What To Wear

When I told my Japanese friends I was planning to walk the Shikoku Henro trail, several of them said the same thing. "Are you going to wear a hat?"

For many people, the image of a walker in a bamboo hat is the first thing that comes to mind when they think of the pilgrimage.

But what "should" you wear on the Shikoku 88, a Buddhist pilgrimage trail?

Click here to read Part 3 - What To Wear

Part 4 - How to Talk to Strangers in Japanese

A stranger, they say, is just a friend you haven't met yet.

And talking to strangers is a great way to speak lots of Japanese. I did lots of this while walking the first section of the Shikoku pilgrimage this spring.

But how do you start a conversation with a stranger? Here are some ideas to get you going, even if you're a beginner at Japanese.

Click here to read Part 4 - How to Talk to Strangers in Japanese

Part 5 - Signs of Shikoku

I heard lots of "gambatte kudasai" (“keep going!”) walking the first leg of the Shikoku 88 pilgrimage this spring. It was written everywhere too - in fact there were lots of interesting signs.

The pilgrimage trail is pretty well marked. Signage is consistently spaced, and in many places there's a way-marker every 100 metres.

But it's also endearingly inconsistent in design - on some stretches every sign is different, and many are handmade….

Click here to read Part 5 - Signs of Shikoku

Part 6 - Shouting at the French

"Sumimaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeen!" I shouted. ("Excuse me!")

The couple turned round, but they didn't move.

They were both dressed in full pilgrim garb: long white clothes, their heads protected by conical hats.

"Otoshimono desu!" ("You dropped this!")

They stared at me blankly. I waved the little grey bag with its digital camera inside. "KAMERA!"

I still couldn't make out their faces, but I thought I saw a glimmer of recognition. One of the pair walked towards me, and it was only then that I saw her face.

"I thought you were Japanese," she said, and I heard a European accent I couldn't place.

"I thought you were Japanese," I said…

Click here to read Part 6 - Shouting at the French

Part 7 - Five Types of Rest Stop You'll Find Hiking In Shikoku

Kyūkei shimashou" (休憩しましょう) is one of the first phrases I teach all my students, and it means "let's take a break".

Rest is every bit as important as activity - perhaps more important. In class, it helps you digest and absorb ideas.

And on a long-distance walk, rest stops (called kyūkeijo 休憩所 in Japanese) can be a good place to

strike up a conversation.

Click here to read Part 7 - Five Types of Rest Stop You'll Find Hiking In Shikoku

Part 8 - O-settai, or, "I'll treasure this tissue case"

Near Kumadani-ji, temple number 8, we had stopped in front of some glorious cherry blossom, and I got chatting to two older gentlemen who were walking the trail. One told me he had never spoken to a gaijin-san, foreigner, before. We took some pictures in front of the cherry blossom, and walked up the hill together.

Further up the road, a lady came out of her house and gave us some hard-boiled sweets.

The sweets were a form of o-settai, small gifts given to walking pilgrims. Traditionally, pilgrims didn't carry money, so they were helped along their way by gifts of food, lodging and other acts of generosity from local people.

“Wait here,” she said when she saw me, “I have something else for you.”

Click here to read Part 8 - O-settai, or, "I'll treasure this tissue case"

Part 9 - Eating Shōjin Ryōri - Buddhist temple food

The “strange” meals were “quite unlike any food I’ve ever tasted”, wrote one visitor to the Sekishoin Shukubo temple in Mount Kōya, eliciting the blunt reply from one monk:

“Yeah, it’s Japanese monastic cuisine you uneducated fuck.”

Guests online also complained about the lack of heating in the Buddhist temple, the absence of English tour guides, and “basic and vegetarian” food.

I stayed in a couple of shukubo (宿坊) earlier this year…

Click here to read Part 9 - Eating Shōjin Ryōri - Buddhist temple food

Thanks so much for reading! I hope you found it useful and/or interesting.

I can’t wait to go back and walk the next bit…

Walking the Shikoku 88 Pilgrimage (Part 8) - O-settai, or, "I'll treasure this tissue case"

“Wait here. I want to give you o-settai.” 

Near Kumadani-ji, temple number 8, we had stopped in front of some glorious cherry blossom, and I got chatting to two older gentlemen who were walking the trail. One told me he had never spoken to a gaijin-san, foreigner, before.

(The cynic in me wonders if that’s really true, or if by “foreigner” he meant “white person”…)

We took some pictures in front of the cherry blossom, and walked up the hill together.

Further up the road, a lady came out of her house and gave us some hard-boiled sweets.

The sweets were a form of o-settai, small gifts given to walking pilgrims. Traditionally, pilgrims didn't carry money, so they were helped along their way by gifts of food, lodging and other acts of generosity from local people.

“Wait here,” she said when she saw me, “I have something else for you.” 

She came back with a colourful children’s section of the newspaper – a visual guide to the Shikoku pilgrimage, with readings for the kanji characters written above in hiragana.

It was several years old. I wondered if she had been saving it for a passing foreigner.

I briefly considered attempting to refuse it: I already had a good map, and I can read kanji, so I didn't need a children’s guide. The next non-Japanese person she met might have more use for it.

But explaining that would have felt arrogant, and you’re supposed to accept o-settai graciously, so I thanked her, and we went on our way. 

The next day, I heard it again. “Wait here. I want to give you o-settai.”

I was alone this time. I had stopped to rest on a fading bench outside a children’s centre, and was enjoying my first iced can coffee in a couple of years.

There were no houses on this side of the road, but an elderly lady had come out of her house and crossed the busy road to strike up a conversation with me.

She referred to herself in the third person as obaa-chan, grandmother. She was 82.

The obaa-chan had walked the whole pilgrimage twice, she told me, and had hoped to do it a third time.

“But I’m too old to walk it again now, so I give o-settai instead.”

She went back into the house, and I saw her in the front room with a cardboard box. She did look frail. I wondered if I should follow her over the road so she didn't have to cross it again, but I didn't want to intrude.

“I must have given out hundreds of these,” she said proudly when she came back.

Inside the box were dozens of cotton tissue cases, in all different colours, each with a small packet of tissues inside.

“Did you make these?”

“Of course! Choose one.”

I picked out one with black cats sitting by front doors.

“Thank you very much. I’ll take good care of it.”

The tissue case had a secondary compartment, and inside that was a paper insert. It was a photocopy of handwriting - guidance for living a good life. “I like these words, so I included them too,” she added.

“When you use it, please remember the 82-year-old obaa-chan from Shikoku.”

The tissue case has travelled 6000 miles with me back to England, but I haven’t opened the tissues yet. I’m know she wanted me to use it; but I just want to keep it safe. 

It smells faintly of incense.

I think about the obaa-chan sewing tissue cases. I wonder if she waits by the window in pilgrimage season – spring and autumn – waiting for walkers to pass by.

She gave me much more than a tissue case. She made me feel welcome, and showed me kindness. Perhaps that’s what o-settai is…? It’s about human connection. It’s not about things, it’s about people.

I’ll treasure this tissue case, I promise.

Related posts:

Walking the Shikoku 88 Pilgrimage (Part 1) - Plan, plan, plan!

Walking the Shikoku 88 Pilgrimage (Part 2) - The Best First Day in Japan

Walking the Shikoku 88 Pilgrimage (Part 3) - What To Wear

Walking the Shikoku 88 Pilgrimage(Part 4) - How to Talk to Strangers in Japanese

Walking the Shikoku 88 Pilgrimage (Part 5) - Signs of Shikoku

Walking the Shikoku 88 Pilgrimage (Part 6) - Shouting at the French

Walking the Shikoku 88 Pilgrimage (Part 7) - Five Types of Rest Stop You'll Find Hiking In Shikoku

And also: "I treasure this pen case"