There are holidays where you come home with a camera roll full of photographs, a suitcase full of washing and a vague sense that you need another holiday to recover. And then there are holidays that somehow give you something more. Our family trip to Japan was the latter.

We spent time in Osaka, Kyoto and Tokyo, ticking off all the main attractions along the way. We saw the bright lights and energy of Osaka, the temples and traditions of Kyoto and the sheer scale and excitement of Tokyo. We saw the sights you would expect to see, ate an enormous amount of delicious food and experienced that wonderful feeling of being somewhere that is completely different from home.

But, for me, the most valuable part of Japan wasn’t the sightseeing, it was the time we had together as a family.

The year before our trip had been a big one for our family. There had been exams, the emotional milestone of coming of age, leaving primary school, adjustments in our job roles and alongside all of that, the much harder reality of family trauma and the loss of two people close to us. It had been a lot. So having uninterrupted time together, away from school, routines, responsibilities and the usual noise of everyday life, felt incredibly precious.

We weren’t rushing between school and homework. Nobody was worrying about the next exam. We weren’t dealing with the constant demands of everyday life. We were simply a family exploring somewhere new and Japan gave us plenty to talk about.

The reality: it was HOT

Before I romanticise Japan too much, there is something that needs saying. It was ridiculously hot and humid. Every. Single. Day. The kind of heat where you can leave the hotel looking reasonably respectable and arrive at your destination wondering what happened to you.

Walking around Tokyo, Kyoto and Osaka in the summer heat was hard work, particularly when you were already doing thousands of steps a day. Add in the humidity and the stairs and suddenly that seemingly innocent decision to walk somewhere becomes quite an adventure. But even that became part of the experience. The children learned that travel isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes you’re hot, tired, sweaty and slightly lost and you carry on anyway. That’s part of travelling too.

The cleanliness was extraordinary

One of the first things you notice in Japan is how clean it is. And what’s particularly fascinating is that there seem to be hardly any bins anywhere. At first, this feels completely counterintuitive. Where are you supposed to put your rubbish? But somehow, despite the scarcity of public bins, there was very little litter. You carry your rubbish with you. You don’t automatically expect someone else to deal with it. and you respect the space you’re in. It made us think about personal responsibility in a completely different way and that’s quite a lesson for children.

Food is an experience

Food in Japan isn’t simply something you grab because you’re hungry. Presentation matters. Ingredients matter. Seasonality matters. Even something as simple as a little snack from a convenience store can feel beautifully considered. For children, this is such a brilliant way of opening up conversations about food and culture.

Why do we eat what we eat?
Why is breakfast traditionally sweet in Britain?
Why shouldn’t soup be a breakfast food?
Why does the way something is presented affect how we feel about eating it?

Suddenly, a meal becomes a lesson without anyone realising they’re having one.

And then there was the snacking…

Another thing we noticed was the lack of constant grazing between meals. There was no feeling that we needed to buy a snack every time we walked past a convenience store or sat down somewhere for ten minutes. Food seemed to have its place and its time. Coming from the modern Western world, where children and let’s be honest, adults, can spend the entire day picking at something, it felt like quite a distinction.

Meals were meals.

Japanese meals themselves were another revelation. Breakfast could quite happily consist of what we’d consider dinner food in Britain: rice, fish, vegetables, soup and other savoury dishes didn’t seem remotely out of place first thing in the morning. It made us realise just how many of our own ideas about food are simply habits we’ve inherited.

Quiet, calm and incredibly civilised

Japan also has a wonderful sense of calm in its public spaces. Even in enormous, busy cities, there is often a feeling of quietness and order. People seem conscious of those around them. Queues are orderly and public transport is remarkably calm. There is little of the shouting, pushing and general background chaos that can sometimes accompany busy public places elsewhere. It felt civilised. And that was another thing I wanted my children to experience. Not because Britain doesn’t have manners or consideration, of course it does, but because seeing another culture operate according to a different set of social expectations makes you question your own.

Children learn so much when they realise that the way we do things isn’t the only way to do things.

Punctuality is a different level

And then there is the famous Japanese punctuality. The trains aren’t something you casually hope might turn up sometime soon. There is a sense that timetables, appointments and other people’s time matter. For children growing up in a world where we’re constantly told to hurry but are also frequently waiting for something to happen, experiencing that level of reliability was fascinating. It shows that systems work best when everyone plays their part and that idea runs through so much of Japanese life.

Everyone has a place

One of the things that struck us was the apparent dignity attached to everyday life. Whether someone was working in a tiny restaurant, cleaning a station, serving customers, driving a train or working in a smart Tokyo office, there seemed to be a sense that their role mattered. We came away feeling that people appeared proud of doing their jobs well, whatever their occupation or social position. Of course, we were visitors and outsiders looking in, so we can’t pretend to understand every aspect of Japanese working life. But that impression stayed with us. It was a useful thing for children to see: Success doesn’t have to mean having the flashiest job, the biggest house or the highest status.

There is value in contributing, taking pride in what you do and being part of something bigger than yourself.

A culture that gets you moving

Japan also made us walk. A lot. Stairs are everywhere. Public transport means you naturally spend plenty of time on your feet, and walking is simply part of getting around. Rather than thinking about movement as a separate activity that has to be scheduled into your day, it is woven into everyday life. We didn’t need to find a gym. We didn’t need to plan a workout.

We just walked. And walked. And walked some more. Even in the ridiculous heat.

It was another interesting contrast for us and a reminder that healthy habits don’t necessarily have to involve organised exercise. Sometimes they’re simply about how a society is designed.

Take your shoes off. Slow down. Notice things.

There are little cultural differences everywhere.

Taking your shoes off when entering certain homes and traditional spaces. Bowing. The careful way things are handed over. The quietness on trains and the thought given to presentation. None of these things individually seems revolutionary. But together they create a different rhythm. And that rhythm is something children notice.

Ancient and futuristic at the same time

Perhaps one of the most brilliant things about Japan is the way the ancient and the futuristic exist side by side. One minute you’re standing in an ancient temple surrounded by centuries of history. The next you’re surrounded by skyscrapers, neon lights, technology and trains that seem to glide through the city with incredible efficiency. For children, that’s extraordinary. History isn’t something that lives in a textbook. The future isn’t something that exists only in a science-fiction film. They can both exist in the same place.

Vending machines, convenience stores and tiny discoveries

Then there are all the wonderfully ordinary things that become exciting simply because you’re somewhere else. Vending machines everywhere.

Convenience stores that are genuinely convenient.
Little shops selling things we’d never normally see at home.
Packaging that looks completely different.
Foods you can’t identify.
Restaurants where you don’t know quite what you’ve ordered until it arrives.

These are the moments that often become the stories you tell afterwards. Not necessarily the biggest attraction, but the tiny thing that made everyone laugh or wonder what on earth we’d just bought.

And the children become more independent

One of the things I loved about travelling somewhere so unfamiliar was watching the children work things out.

Reading signs.
Following maps.
Navigating stations.
Working out where we needed to go.
Trying foods they hadn’t seen before.

Realising that you can be somewhere where you don’t understand the language and still figure things out. Travel teaches independence in a very natural way. You don’t have to sit your child down and announce, “Today we’re learning resilience.” You simply get slightly lost, work it out together and carry on.

Japan gave us perspective

This, I think, was the biggest gift. When you’ve had a difficult year, it’s easy for life to become very inward-looking.

School.
Exams.
Growing up.
Leaving one stage of childhood behind.
Family worries.
Loss.

The ordinary stresses that can feel enormous when you’re in the middle of them. Then you travel 6,000 miles away and suddenly you’re reminded that the world is enormous. There are other languages, Other traditions. Other expectations. Other ways of eating, travelling, working, socialising and raising children. And somehow, seeing that makes your own world feel a little bigger too.

So, should you take your children to Japan?

Yes.

If you have the opportunity, I genuinely think Japan is one of the most interesting countries you can take children to. Not simply because there are incredible things to see, although there absolutely are. Take them because it challenges their assumptions.

Let them see a society where public spaces can be quiet and calm, where litter is scarce despite the lack of bins, where public transport is a normal part of everyday life, where punctuality matters, where food traditions are completely different, where ancient culture sits alongside extraordinary modern technology and where movement is simply built into daily life.

Let them experience being somewhere where they don’t automatically know how things work.
Let them feel a little out of their comfort zone.
Let them discover that unfamiliar doesn’t necessarily mean scary.
And let them realise that the way their family lives isn’t the only way a family can live.

For us, Japan came at exactly the right time. After a year of exams, milestones, growing up and heartbreak, we needed somewhere that would pull us out of our normal routine. Somewhere that would make us look up. Somewhere that would make us talk. Somewhere that would give us experiences to share.

We came home with photographs, souvenirs, tired feet and an enormous amount of laundry. But we also came home with something far more valuable. Perspective and perhaps that’s the best reason of all to travel with your children. Don’t just show them the world. Let the world show them how many different ways there are to live.

SISTER STORY Japan: The Family Holiday That Gave Us More Than Memories