A friend told me before I left that there were no trash bins in the city and this is true. When we get snacks along the way, we carefully put all the waste in the plastic bag usually provided, or we just take one with us, and carry it around until we get back to the hotel. A pleasant consequence is that so far we have seen practically no litter in the city.

Eating while walking or generally on the street is considered ill-bred. We don’t see much of it here, but a few cases have been spotted, for example in Harajuku, although ice cream or those creative desserts from Angel Crepes don’t seem to be an issue. What we did today was simply pick a bench and quietly eat with our backs to the street. Clever!

The Japanese are very good at recognizing which things will lead to questions from foreign tourists, as is clear by some English translations we’ve seen around. Just when you start wondering, voila, there it is, the crucial point. “Please don’t touch the puppies and ask for assistance” in a very expensive pet shop in the Daikanyama district.

Wearing socks with shoes is very popular among ladies, and oh, what socks they are. The shoes alone are worth several articles of ecstatic description, but the socks are not far behind, in every color imaginable, with ribbons, pearls, feathers etc etc. Feet are taken seriously here. As is everything else, it seems? I saw a woman with pearls lining the hems of her jeans and generally being “dressed” is certainly filled with a new meaning over here, at all times of the day.

In contrast to hotels in other countries I’ve stayed in, we have not heard or seen the housekeeping staff in our hotel, but when we come back from walking, everything is comfortable and pristine, and the robes (yes, we get robes, unexpected) are folded on the beds like I never could fold myself. Only it doesn’t button all the way down, because, once again, I’m too big for Japan.

Some of the talking does sound like what you may have heard during your childhood anime watching. It’s generally a melodious, sometimes even sing-song language, and you understand why the Japanese have a reputation of being musical and good at singing.

Long lines outside of Western eating places are a very common sight, often made up of mostly teenage school students or young people, none of them looking bored, but either doing something on their phones or chatting to each other. Dessert places are frequented especially heavily and the excitement about what’s on offer is palpable. The Disney theme regularly pops up among sweet food and seems to be at home among the poppy brightness that is one part of what we connect with Japanese culture.

Nobody stares at me when I think I’m being awkward with my chopsticks. They just enjoy their own meal and let others eat in peace.

And while locals do of course talk and laugh among themselves in the city, even in Shibuya I get the impression that if it weren’t for the traffic, it would generally be pretty quiet. It might be an inner quality, maybe that’s why it’s always possible to sit down and think here.

The toilets talk. It’s a wee bit unnerving. No (British) pun intended. OK, they don’t actually talk, at least I haven’t, er, experienced anything like that yet. But they are always warm. Some of them make a noise when you, er, get very close. Others lift the lid up by themselves when you enter and the panel of buttons next to the seat is intimidating at first glance, but the most important one is usually illustrated unmistakably or simply helpfully labeled with FLUSH in English.

There was one fantastic toilet I didn’t want to leave for a while, because there were paper cups by the sink and little packages of what turned out to be self-toothpasting toothbrushes. You hold them under running water and voila.

When shopping, cash is put in a small tray placed in front of you for that purpose, and if you miss this step and hand it over to the cashier, you apologize, because that is not how things are done around here, and since the cashier is thanking you so graciously you feel horribly disrespectful. Your change, though, is given back to you by hand, but I can’t help wondering if that is happening because of my aforementioned blunder.

Little towels soaked in warm water await on tables in almost all the cafes we’ve been to so far, and it’s very refreshing after a lot of walking in the city. Most containers on the tables will include a sauce for food, even if said container looks like a teapot to you and you accidentally ruin your sister’s green tea by wanting to be helpful and pouring in to her cup from said container.

Almost everyone, and that’s a seemingly constant stream of a great many people, walk on the left. Navigating becomes a habit, and even if you do err to the right, locals will politely skirt around you, giving you breathing space to step back to where you belong.

Even if your waitress only speaks Japanese and you, unfortunately, don’t, she will stay until she has made absolutely sure that she has understood your order correctly, even if you start repeating “OK” like a parrot just so as not to feel like an idiot and let her do her job. Her attentiveness will cause blushing and feelings of subsequent gratitude in your soul.

Locals also like to stop and watch traditional Japanese weddings and film them with their (considerably more advanced than mine) mobile devices. No pushing or yelling.

If you go inside a jewelry shop like Osemawa in the Harajuku district and open your mouth at the sheer amount of earrings on offer, after a closer look you will see a sign reading “FOR THOSE WHO DO NOT HAVE PIERCED HOLE”.

There are people everywhere and most of them look happy and industrious.

And I want to take pictures of practically every sign, poster or ad, because I can’t read them, but each letter is so intricate that it all looks like a work of art.