There are some mistakes you can avoid, and some you can’t, and today’s I could’ve.
One of the more vivid memories I have from my last Japan trip 7 years ago is visiting a Don Quijote — a massive and extremely popular Japanese variety store chain — at odd hours of the night and finding it packed. Inside the store, it was like there was no sense of time. That was the definition of ‘Japan night life’ I took back from that trip, and I loved it.
Growing up in India was a lot worse in this regard. I basically lived on house arrest because of how paranoid my parents are of crime in the country. It sounds like prison to my friends that hear of it now, but at the time it was the only reality I knew and I grew to believe it was normal.
When I went to university in the Netherlands, I suddenly experienced a level of freedom I didn’t know existed. As much as I wanted to leave (for other reasons) when I was there, I have to admit: I never once felt unsafe on my own.
In my mental ranking of places, India was where stepping outside alone felt unthinkable (again, not because the country is actually like that, but because I was raised in an echo chamber). The Netherlands was on the other end of the spectrum, and London? Somewhere in the middle. As a woman in London, I’m independent but cautious. And oh, the comfort of not having to be eternally cautious.
That’s Japan.
So naturally, you can understand my excitement when I discovered that there was a 24-hour McDonalds near the place we were currently staying.
Okay, technically, there’s almost nothing near where we’re actually staying — Rokugōdate — but just one train stop away, in Kawasaki, there’s plenty.
This detail is important, so pay attention.
Our so-called “hotel” isn’t exactly welcoming (mom found a roach floating in her coffee after leaving it unattended for a while, and I get the creeps every time I’m indoors). So, we make a conscious effort to stay outside as much as possible. Our current routine mostly involves studying for the JLPT, and libraries in the area all closed at 7 PM. Which made McDonald’s — a big, well-lit space with free WiFi — the perfect place to camp.
On top of that, I was excited to relive my idea of ‘Tokyo nightlife.’ So I convinced mom to pull an all-nighter at McD’s.
Surprisingly, she agreed pretty easily. Soon we found ourselves deliberately going home and taking a long nap in the evening in preparation for the ‘fun as hell study night’ that was to come.
At about 10pm we headed out towards McD.
At 11:30pm, I told mom that if she was sleepy, she could still take a train home and I’d be fine on my own.
At 11:45pm, I told her it was her last chance if she still wanted to leave — the last train would be departing soon.
At 11:50pm, I said well that’s that, it’s too late now.
And at 11:52pm, McDonalds said ‘Thank you for visiting. We’ll be closing soon.’
Mom and I stared at each other for a long minute.
That was not meant to happen.
Google Maps said 24h.
Moreover, the front door said 24h too.
Wasn’t that enough to make sure that McDonalds would be open all night?
Without a backup plan, we walked down the stairs to leave the building. On the way, I noticed a small sign mentioning something about cleaning or inspection from 00:00 to 05:00.
“Takeout Open,” it said.
I whipped out Google Maps again. ‘24 Open’, it still said. I tapped the little arrow to expand it. 24h on all days except Mondays. It was Monday. Why hadn’t I checked before?
It would've been a lesser deal had I been on my own, but as the plan-maker, I felt responsible for mom’s impending suffering too.
We stood on the street outside McD in the freezing November cold, facing the night with no plan.
Home was a half hour walk away and half an hour in this weather seemed torturous.
I looked up shops nearby that were still open, in search of shelter. There turned out to be another McDonalds a 10 min walk away, that was open until 1am. 50 more minutes of shelter was better than no plan at all. So in the cold and wind, we walked.
At 00:45 we heard the same tune playing on the speakers — Auld Lang Syne. I remembered it playing at the other McD too, when it was almost 12am. Soon followed the closing announcement. This time I connected the dots and figured Auld Lang Syne was their way of saying bye. Very subtle.
Desperate for shelter once again, we went to check out a Don Quijote we spotted nearby. I used to think Donki was incredibly fun to explore, but this time round we’d found a lot better stores and Donki was no longer one I’d go to by choice. Tonight, those choices were limited though, so between outdoors and inside Donki, it was definitely inside Donki. We passed half an hour here, buying food for the next day because their was nothing better to do.
As we checked out, we were grasping at straws. We checked out a half dozen or so konbinis in search for one with seating. Seats are rare anywhere in Japan though, and we had no luck. A Natural Lawson had a cafe, but cafe hours were 06:00-20:00, although the shop itself was open.
It wasn’t long before we knew we were out of options. It wasn’t even 2am yet — 3 more hours until the first train, and nowhere to stay. We had to walk back. And walk back we did.
Strangely, along with the sense of impending doom, a sense of humour kicked in. I knew it would make a funny story for later, but somehow it was even funny in the moment. Mom was taking it rather well too.
On the way, we opened the steamed chocolate cake that I’d bought at Donki and it turned out to be the best I’d ever tasted. The taste was impeccable, and the texture was simply heavenly.
The weather was tough on both of us — elevated if anything by the cold winds on the seemingly never-ending bridge over a river we had to cross to get home — but the walk felt shorter than it seemed and we were soon home. Sneezing, perhaps, but in one piece. No frostbite.
In hindsight, I realize how much our minds overcomplicate things. The idea of walking home had felt overwhelming, but in the end, it wasn’t so bad. Our brains were over-braining initially, but eventually we adapted and dealt with it.
That being said, tonight could have been a lot worse. We were lucky to be just one station away from home, but just a few different factors could’ve made this situation way more miserable. I made a mental note to be more careful going forward — to “change the things I can”, as the prayer goes — especially when my decisions affect others like mom, who suffered more in the cold than I did. Sure, once the damage is done we may as well make lemonade out of it, but when it’s something as simple as checking opening hours properly, it’s best to prevent the damage from happening in the first place.
Now that it’s over, mom has told this story to half the family and will continue until every last relative knows. I got a story out of it too. And, honestly? Even in the moment, it was a little bit fun.