Our Friend, Matt, travelled to Japan in March. Here is a piece he wrote about his awesome time in Japan, where he talks about the richness of the Japanese culture, Japan’s accessibility, and his adventures.
Following my diagnosis with Friedreich’s ataxia in October 2021, international travel isn’t something that I’ve embraced. Airports, queues, crowds, and new terrains tend to spell trouble. But with the Covid-19 lockdowns firmly behind us and international travel restrictions lifted, I was keen to explore new places and cultures. On a cold October night, my partner and I booked return flights to Tokyo, to visit Japan for two weeks during the cherry blossom season. We were restricted to travelling during the Easter school holidays, as Helen is a teacher. So, we looked at cheaper options from mainland Europe and booked our flight to depart from and return to Paris. Our journey started on Thursday 28th March, taking the Eurostar from St Pancras to Charles de Gaulle airport, armed with a 23kg suitcase, an oversized rucksack, and a carefully crafted itinerary. After a short sleep at the Paris airport hotel, we were in line and ready for our 14-hour flight to Tokyo with Air France.
I had been interested in visiting Japan for several years. As a fresh-faced, soon– to– be History graduate, I attended a careers event at my university about the Japanese English Teaching (JET) programme. I wasn’t ready to start a new life in Japan at that time, and neither was my student bank balance. But now, 12 years on, I had touched down in Tokyo! My first impressions were shaped at the airport. We had departed Paris on the morning of Good Friday, and on arrival in Tokyo it was Saturday lunchtime. Heavily jet-lagged and without my regular dose of Baclofen, I was feeling the full force of muscle stiffness. As I awkwardly shuffled through the queue, a member of staff had noticed my gait while standing in line and offered us disabled access to get through passport control quicker. The perfect welcome to Japan. That epitomises Japanese culture. Everyone I encountered throughout my trip was extremely friendly, helpful, and polite.
Tokyo is a strange dichotomy: it is both busy and orderly, chaotic yet calm. My partner wanted to see areas of Tokyo like Harajuku, which perfectly encapsulated this strange juxtaposition. As we shuffled down the streets, toe to toe with other tourists, I was nervous and overly aware of my footing. But, because people are respectful and patient, it made navigating the streams of tourists and the awkward shuffle and stomps, just about bearable.
Away from the crowds, Tokyo is a very accessible city, with sprawling districts, beautiful parks, and quiet neighbourhoods, that I found manageable. Navigating steps has become an ever-growing worry for me since my diagnosis, but with handrails and patient people, I became less and less concerned with the prospect of climbing them – especially when a spectacular Shinto Shrine awaits you at the top.
From Tokyo we travelled to the mountains, to the Hakone region, famed for its hot springs and close proximity to Mount Fuji. Staying in a traditional Ryokan (traditional inn) was an experience I will never forget. Simple and functional yet delicate and elegant, our hotel room became a safe haven from the madness of Tokyo. When I enter somewhere ‘delicate’ I am immediately filled with dread. I quite simply feel like a bull in a China shop, ready to knock down walls and smash anything in my path, at any given misstep. However, because of the clever architectural design Japan has perfected, our traditional room felt spacious and shatter-proof. This is what Japan made me feel more generally: a little less clumsy, a little less concerned with movement.
From our mountain retreat, we headed to beautiful Nara, once the ancient capital, where the local deer rule the streets (but bow to you all the same!). From Nara, we journeyed to Kyoto, where the cherry blossom, Sakura, was in full bloom. Cherry blossom is a serious business, and not something to underestimate or diminish to a few Instagram photos. Tourists and locals alike go wild for the pink and white hues that paint the trees, especially as it signals the long-awaited Spring. Naturally, this means crowds. Everywhere. Again, this is something I normally avoid, but the politeness and respect people show in the streets, shops, and tourist hotspots, put me at ease. On a walking tour of the historical Gion district of Kyoto, our group was led up quite steep terrain, which I would usually panic about, but at this stage in our trip, I felt reassured that people would happily wait for me, if I needed more time.
Our final stop was Hiroshima, a sobering experience, given the events of 1945. The city is a story of resilience and peace, with a flame at the centre of the memorial park that will continue to burn, every minute, hour, day, and year, until the world is free of nuclear weapons. Travelling to a city like Hiroshima, gave me a sense of perspective and quiet reflection on how we treat each other, and how empathy is at our core.
Overall, my trip to Japan confirmed to me that exploring countries that seem so distant from not only home, but also my comfort zone, is something I can do, and should embrace. I feel more confident and excited about the adventures ahead, and I hope to share more about them in the future with the Ataxia community.
If you have an idea for a topic to write about already, speak with Irmak Dogan (communications@ataxia.org.uk) to discuss it further. If you don’t have any ideas, send along a self-introduction and she’ll commission you with a topic. Whatever you decide, it’s always best for your topic to be something you feel strongly about.
