I have embraced being a tourist in Japan after my recent trip to Ise Shrine, one of the most important Shinto shrines in Japan. As you may know, I hate crowds. One of the most infuriating and uncomfortable days of my life was spent on a Saturday at Disneyland when everyone was out of school for winter vacation and the park was crammed with people. I spent the day squelching the urge to flail my arms and scream. Ostensibly, this kind of reaction would seal my fate in a country whose citizens love to be tourists and all the remotely interesting sights are crammed with people. But it's different here for some reason. I think it's because the people are so well-behaved and orderly. I went to the Van Gogh exhibit at the Aichi Arts Center and encountered one of the most crowded museum exhibits I have ever been to. But it was completely fine; everyone shuffled past the paintings, waiting for their turn. People who cut ahead stood back, looking at the paintings from behind the ones who had shuffled patiently. It also helps that almost no one in Japan has B.O.

So though the shrine was crowded, it still managed to be one of the most peaceful and rejuvenating places I have ever been. There was a charming little tourist district right next to the shrine selling omiyage (individually-wrapped shrimp crackers, anyone?) and food, much of it chestnut-related. (I'll get to that later.) For lunch I went to a restaurant specializing in Ise ebi (lobster). Funnily enough, when I was applying for the JET Program, I fell in love with the idea of Ise ebi. I never knew I would actually eat it one day and it would be delicious. I also ate a giant grilled snail and a salmon mochi. It turned out I was visiting Ise on mochi day, so everything was even more crowded than usual. Mochi day is the one day of the month when mochi is made and sold and apparently there is a stampede early in the morning and all the mochi is bought up within an hour. I was sad because after hearing about the mochi madness, I really wanted to buy some.

Speaking of madness, autumn has begun, so the nights are now chilly and chestnuts are in season. This is my first experience with a Japanese seasonal food mania, and it feels like chestnuts are everywhere: chestnut soft-serve ice cream, giant chestnut-roasting wheels, shows on TV about towns reknowned for their chestnuts, plastic chestnut replicas, and old women with sticks beating the hedges in search of fallen chestnuts. I have yet to eat a chestnut, but I have never in my life found the idea more appealing.

This weekend I am going to the Takayama Festival, touted as one of the Three Best Festivals in Japan. (There is a Three Best list for many attractions here. I’d like to be one of the Three Best of something in Japan. But I suppose I’m too much of a dilettante.) I’m excited about going to Takayama for the first time, but apprehensive about the crowds, however well-behaved and orderly they may be. I’m renting a car with a group of people and we just found out that the roads are going to be so crowded, we have to leave at 5AM or face spending half the day in traffic. With my new car-free life, I’ve been able to pretend that traffic no longer exists and I’m not sure I’m ready to return to reality. But at least I’m a dangerous American driver and therefore am not allowed behind the wheel without an international driving permit, which I didn’t get before I left the U.S. because I didn’t want to drive for a year. And my traveling companions are safe Australians who don’t need any kind of permit to drive in Japan. So I’ll be sitting in the backseat knitting and eating chestnuts and watching the autumn leaves go by and, really, what could be better than that?