Encapsulated

Emily wished for two things when we were planning our visit to Japan: learn how to make sushi and stay in a capsule hotel. Seeing pictures online of these tiny pod hotels filled me with some trepidation but I thought we could give it a go for a night and chalk whatever happened up to experience. And so we found ourselves checking in at one of Osaka’s capsule hotels and being handed a goodie bag along with a list of etiquette guidelines for the uninitiated.

The hotel is separated into girls and boys zones and our first stop was the area where you place your shoes on a rack and put on the slippers provided in the goodie bag which also included pyjamas, disposable toothbrush, toothpaste and hairbrush. Then we stowed our luggage in a large locker and took just what we needed for the night to our capsules. The capsule was exactly the length and width of the futon mattress and high enough to sit up in the bed. It was really well designed with a mini television, crisp linen, and nooks and crannies for recharging devices, storage etc.

Next was a trip to the bathroom which was so surprising that we spent ages just wandering around it and exclaiming happily over each discovery. First up were the toilets. A Japanese toilet is an object of beauty and we were already excited about them before we arrived in the country. These didn’t disappoint: firstly, one removes one’s normal indoor slippers before entering the toilet room and slips on a pair of ‘toilet slippers’ which are neatly awaiting one at the door. Then you glide into a cubicle and behold the spotless, like really spotless, toilet with.... a control panel beside it. As you step into the cubicle, the toilet lid opens silently awaiting your derrière. Confusingly for this novice traveller, the control panel buttons were in Japanese with icons depicting showers, water jets, dryers, toilet seat cleaning and even music (to mask your own noises!). I was a complete coward too scared to try any and decided just to do a Western pee. However I was caught out because I didn’t know which button was the flush and I ended up bashfully asking another lodger to save me.

Our bathroom delights continued with the discovery of a pristine row of dressing tables each complete with a stool and all sorts of cosmetics and equipment. The top of the range power showers proffered quality lotions and haircare products.

As the evening wore on, the hotel filled up mostly with Japanese girls, organising their travel bags and washing before quietly climbing into their capsule to sleep. It was endearing to see the rows of slippers in front of each pod in the dimly lit corridor. Emily and I slept deeply following our long and challenging journey from Hawaii via Tokyo.

As morning set in, guests slipped silently out of their capsules and into the bathroom and locker areas not disturbing others who were still dreaming of onigiri rice snacks (Emily) and Meiji chocolate-covered almonds (Gill).

Our two capsules cost €44 in total and the whole experience was so serene, relaxing and respectful that I pondered for days afterwards why this concept can’t be introduced in many more countries as a cheap and restorative way to rest a weary traveller’s bones and recharge for another hectic day in our busy world.

Le grá,
Gill