By Staff Writer: Kayla Kocher
When I went to Japan for my honeymoon last month, I expected great food, exciting shopping and beautiful sights. What surprised me most, though, was how the ordinary parts of life in Tokyo felt just as unforgettable, as if even the simplest moments had been brushed with a little extra magic.
My husband had been to Japan before, but it was my first trip, and everything felt new in the most enchanting way. We stayed in a tiny Airbnb in Shinjuku near Nakai Station, and that little spot quickly became one of my favorite parts of the whole experience. Tokyo’s public transit made it easy to drift almost anywhere, and I loved being in a place where trains and walking shaped the rhythm of daily life.
Not every moment was effortless. When we landed at night, the international phone plan I had carefully set up ahead of time failed, leaving us to figure out the train system without Apple Maps. In the moment, it felt stressful and disorienting, like being dropped into a maze of lights and motion. But after getting help at the station and later buying eSIMs, we found our footing and were back on track.
Once we settled in, Tokyo felt incredible. We walked about 20,000 steps a day, moving through the city on a steady stream of vending machine coffee and convenience store breakfasts. The 7Eleven next to our apartment became part of our little routine, and some of my favorite foods ended up being the strawberry sandwiches, egg sandwiches and pumpkin soup.
The food surprised me most of all. I usually do not like fish, but in Japan, even sashimi tasted fresh, clean and delicious. My husband and I both have sensitive stomachs, and somehow everything we ate agreed with us, which felt like its own kind of miracle.
I also fell in love with the shopping, especially the Sanrio store inside Tokyo Station, which felt like stepping into a dream for someone like me who loves cute things. Between the fashion, the themed cafés, the shrines and the quiet politeness woven into everyday life, Japan felt deeply thoughtful in a way that stayed with me.
By the time I came home, I understood why people talk about “post-Japan depression.” It was not just a great trip. It was a place that made ordinary life feel extraordinary.