I Went to Japan for 3 Weeks With Only a Backpack—Here’s What I’d Do Differently

I’ve been dreaming of Japan since I watched Spirited Away as a kid. So when I finally booked a three-week trip in May 2026, I wanted to do it right—no suitcases, no checked bags, just a 30-liter backpack and a loose itinerary. I’d read all the blogs, watched the YouTube videos, and thought I was prepared. I was wrong about a lot of things. But I also discovered things no guidebook mentions.

Let me start with the obvious: Japan is incredible. The trains run on time. The food is mind-blowing. The toilets are from the future. But it’s also exhausting in ways you don’t expect. The social pressure is real—you’re constantly aware of not being rude, not making noise, not taking up space. By week two, I craved a loud, messy diner where I could just be myself. That’s not a complaint; it’s just reality. Here’s what I learned.

Packing: You Need Less Than You Think (But Also More)

I packed five t-shirts, two pairs of pants, a hoodie, and a rain jacket. That was enough. But I forgot one crucial thing: comfortable shoes that are easy to take off. In Japan, you remove your shoes constantly—temples, restaurants, traditional inns, even some shops. My hiking boots had laces that took forever to untie. I ended up buying slip-on sneakers from a Don Quijote store in Tokyo for ¥3,000. They saved my trip. Also, bring a small towel. Many public restrooms don’t have paper towels, and some older ryokan don’t provide hand towels. A microfiber towel is a lifesaver.

The 4 AM Convenience Store Ritual

Jet lag hit me hard. I woke up at 3:30 AM every day for the first week. At first, I tried to sleep in. Then I gave up and started exploring. That’s when I discovered the magic of Japanese convenience stores at dawn. FamilyMart, 7-Eleven, and Lawson are everywhere, and they’re open 24 hours. I’d grab an onigiri (rice ball) with tuna mayo, a bottle of green tea, and a pudding cup for breakfast. The food is genuinely good—fresh, cheap, and varied. I ate convenience store food at least once a day for three weeks and never got tired of it. Pro tip: the egg salad sandwich is the best thing in the store.

Osaka Is Better Than Tokyo (Sorry)

I know this is controversial, but hear me out. Tokyo is amazing—it’s huge, futuristic, and has endless things to do. But it’s also overwhelming. The subway system is a maze. Restaurants are often hidden in basements. People are polite but distant. Osaka, on the other hand, is laid-back. The food scene is more casual and more accessible. Dotonbori at night is a sensory overload in the best way—neon signs, street food, and loud, friendly people. I had the best okonomiyaki of my life at a tiny counter in Osaka, cooked by a grandma who didn’t speak English but smiled the whole time. Tokyo felt like a museum I was visiting. Osaka felt like a home I was invited into.

Trains Are Efficient But Complex

The Shinkansen (bullet train) is as good as everyone says. But local trains are another story. Each city has its own system—Tokyo has JR East, the Metro, and private lines. You can’t just tap your Suica card everywhere; some lines require paper tickets. I missed a train twice because I didn’t realize I needed a different ticket. The Japan Rail Pass is worth it if you’re doing a lot of long-distance travel, but you have to buy it before you arrive. I didn’t, and I paid more. Also, avoid rush hour (7:30-9 AM and 5-7 PM). I got stuck in a train car so packed I couldn’t move my arms. It’s an experience, but not a fun one.

The Language Barrier Is Overrated

I speak zero Japanese. I got by with Google Translate, pointing, and a lot of smiling. Most signs in tourist areas have English. Restaurants often have picture menus. But here’s the thing: people appreciate effort. I learned three phrases—arigato gozaimasu (thank you), sumimasen (excuse me), and kore kudasai (this, please). Every time I used them, people’s faces lit up. It broke the ice in a way that English never did. One restaurant owner in Kyoto gave me a free dessert just because I said “oishii” (delicious) while eating.

My Biggest Mistake: Overplanning

I had a spreadsheet. Yes, a spreadsheet—with train times, opening hours, and restaurant reservations. By day four, I was burned out. I felt like I was checking boxes instead of experiencing Japan. So I threw the spreadsheet away. I spent an entire afternoon sitting in a park in Kyoto, watching people and eating a melon pan. That afternoon is my favorite memory of the trip. My advice: plan a few things you absolutely want to see, then leave the rest open. You’ll stumble into better experiences than any guidebook can offer.

Would I go again? In a heartbeat. But next time, I’ll pack fewer plans and more comfortable shoes.