Much like drinking sake, singing karaoke or haemorrhaging yen, a night in a capsule hotel is a quintessentially Japanese experience. It wasn’t exactly recommended in my guide book, but it is cheap, unforgettable and answered any questions regarding my susceptibility to claustrophobia.
Osaka, where I only intended to stay one night, seemed like as good a place as any to experience the confines of what my guide book described as a ‘spacious coffin’. After wandering hopelessly back and forth through one of Osaka’s liveliest districts, a spruiker outside a sushi restaurant took pity and in true Japanese fashion departed his post and walked me to my destination, the Kapsel in Osaka.
Upon entering the foyer I removed my shoes and was shown towards a large wall of very small cupboards and choosing cupboard number 281, I locked my shoes away and took the key to the reception desk.
My capsule would cost me 2500 yen for the night and after paying this and handing over my shoe cupboard key, I was issued with a numbered velcro wrist band, with an attached barcode and key and a set of printed instructions in English that explained how a capsule hotel worked.
Osaka, where I only intended to stay one night, seemed like as good a place as any to experience the confines of what my guide book described as a ‘spacious coffin’. After wandering hopelessly back and forth through one of Osaka’s liveliest districts, a spruiker outside a sushi restaurant took pity and in true Japanese fashion departed his post and walked me to my destination, the Kapsel in Osaka.
Upon entering the foyer I removed my shoes and was shown towards a large wall of very small cupboards and choosing cupboard number 281, I locked my shoes away and took the key to the reception desk.
My capsule would cost me 2500 yen for the night and after paying this and handing over my shoe cupboard key, I was issued with a numbered velcro wrist band, with an attached barcode and key and a set of printed instructions in English that explained how a capsule hotel worked.