There’s no doubt about it: Japan is having a moment.
For months, people had been suggesting it to me as a place for fashion inspiration, for the shopping, the detail, the beauty, the ritual of everyday life. But this wasn’t my first time there.
Tris and I went to Japan on our honeymoon nearly 20 years ago. We’d never been before and chose it as a stop on the way to Europe, where we were heading to see family in England and Italy, both places we already knew. Japan felt new to us. Unknown. Exciting. So we landed with no research, no real agenda, and just wandered.
It was one of the best trips of our lives.
We ate incredible food, found beautiful shops, and felt constantly in awe. There were no viral cafés on our list, no “must do” locations, no algorithm telling us where to go. It was pure exploration.
One of the memories Tris and I still laugh about is finding a jazz bar in the basement of some building, filled with older people dressed beautifully, where they invited him up to play drums. It was random and perfect and exactly the kind of thing travel is supposed to be.
Then, 20 years later, Japan came back onto the radar.
This time, Tris was heading over first for a snow trip with friends, and suggested I bring the kids over a week later and meet him there. So we did. And, very much in character for me, I did almost no research beyond finding our hotels.
But travel to Japan now feels very different to how it did back then.
The internet gets there before you do.
The crème brûlée sandwiches. The soufflé pancakes. The secondhand designer bags. Endless Don Quixote hauls. Every “must eat”, “must shop”, “must film” location delivered directly to my phone whether I’d asked for it or not.
I wasn’t necessarily saving all of it with the intention of doing it, but I was aware of it. It’s almost impossible not to be.
One thing I noticed before we left was a lot of content, particularly in the travel mum corner of social media, suggesting that Japan isn’t especially welcoming for children.
Even before we arrived, that didn’t fully sit right with me.
A lot of the examples seemed to boil down to kids being noisy on trains or taking up space in quiet public places. And honestly, if I were on a train in Sydney and someone’s child was kicking the back of my chair, I wouldn’t love that either. That doesn’t feel uniquely Japanese. That feels like basic public etiquette.
My kids are not especially quiet kids. They’re not wild, but they’re chatty, energetic, and definitely capable of taking up space. And yet, we never felt unwelcome. We didn’t feel like we were a problem for existing as a family.
That was one of the things I appreciated most.
If I were giving one genuinely useful tip for families travelling to Japan, it would be this: plan around meals.
A lot of restaurants and bars are tiny. They fill quickly. And I noticed there weren’t many children out at restaurants in the busier parts of town, especially at night. Midweek, you can probably be a little looser. But on weekends, or busier evenings, I think booking ahead is essential.
Hungry kids and nowhere to sit is not anyone’s idea of a good time.
The queue culture
We noticed a lot of queues. Huge ones.
Not just for major attractions, but for snacks, drinks, desserts, and very specific little food items that had clearly become internet famous. It felt like people wanted to experience the exact version of Japan they’d already seen online.
At one point in Harajuku, I bought one of those fried cheese on a stick things from a stall with maybe two people in front of me.
Fine, easy, done.
Then not far down the road there was another stall selling effectively the exact same thing with a line that looked 50 people deep.
It felt mad.
Travel feels better when there’s still room for surprise. I love documenting travel. It’s fun, and I know friends and family like seeing what we’re up to.
But I think if you’re going to share it, make it surprising.
Show something you actually stumbled upon. Share what you noticed. Offer something beyond proof that you stood where everyone else stood.
What the kids actually loved
We didn’t do Disney. We were asked constantly if we would, but no, no Disney, no “worlds”.
What we did do was TeamLab. We saved it for the last day and the kids absolutely loved it. It felt immersive, special, and unlike anything we could really do at home.
They also loved the parks and being outside in Japan. We were there right on the edge of cherry blossom season, and that mix of water, gardens, blossom, and city energy was really beautiful.
In Kyoto, they loved roaming through Nishiki Market, the atmosphere, the little food stalls, trying different things as we went. That kind of wandering really suited them.
And then, of course, there were the shops.
Daff loved Don Quixote. A hot tip: the smaller Don Quixotes are much better than the giant flagships. The big ones are absolute chaos. The smaller ones are still fun, but far less bonkers.
We also loved Hands. The art supplies were completely out of this world.
And for Abe, the true highlight was the gachapon machines. Such a good travel tool. Such a good vibe. They became the perfect little incentive to keep walking, stay engaged, and get off the phone. Tiny plastic joy, but very effective.
One practical thing worth knowing: hotel rooms can be small.
Really small.
That’s useful to be prepared for if you’re travelling with children. But what they lack in size, they often make up for in thoughtfulness. Even compact rooms were usually beautifully appointed, efficient, and genuinely pleasant to stay in.
I was especially curious about vintage shopping in Kyoto and Tokyo, because it has become such a big part of the Japan travel fantasy online.
A lot of what I found was American imported vintage, with some European imported vintage too. It was the kind of thing you could quite literally find on King Street in Sydney.
What was special was the Japanese vintage.
The most exciting treasure hunting happened at the flea market at Tō ji Temple in Kyoto.
It was absolutely packed, properly shoulder to shoulder, so if you’re going with kids, or even on your own, it’s worth being prepared for that.
But it was worth it. The atmosphere was incredible. And the vintage felt far more interesting than what I was finding in the more polished shopping districts.
I found handmade matcha bowls, antique matcha bowls, and pieces that felt deeply tied to place rather than globally circulated vintage styled up in a prettier setting.
That market had soul.
Another standout was Chicago in Kyoto, specifically the Japanese section upstairs.
There were heaps of vintage kimonos, obis, shibori fabrics, and pieces that felt distinctly Japanese in the way I had been hoping to find more often.
What I spent the most money on
Ceramics. Paper. Stationery. Textiles.
That’s where Japan really got me.
I bought ceramics, antique bowls, handmade bowls, beautiful paper, and all sorts of stationery. Japan is just exceptional when it comes to paper goods, art materials, and all those tiny, thoughtful objects that feel both useful and beautiful.
We are definitely going back.
Plan enough to make things easy, but leave enough room to wander. Book the dinners that need booking. Know where you’re sleeping. Have a few anchors in place.
But don’t let the internet convince you that the whole point of being in Japan is standing in line for the same things as everyone else. Some of the best moments are still the unplanned ones, the tiny shop, the side street, the unexpected meal, the beautiful object you weren’t looking for.
That, to me, is still the best part of travel.
With love,
Laura x