Country of extremes

I guess I was always destined to enjoy a country where slurping food is actually seen as a compliment to the chef...

But don't get me wrong; apart from this one (to me) highly amusing, but surprisingly liberating custom, Japanese folk are incredibly civilised.

They don't drop litter, the few homeless people there are make money not from begging but by recycling rubbish they find on the streets and everything (and I mean everything) runs on time - the average delay for the famous 150mph 'bullet' trains in the half a century they've been running is just six seconds!

Yet stepping out on to the bustling, high rise, neon-blitzed streets of Tokyo for the first time is a huge shock to the senses.

If you've ever seen the film Lost in Translation, it really does capture the contradictorily hectic but, unbelievably orderly, pace of this 20 million person city.

After spending the customary Johnny-foreigner 25 minutes trying to comprehend the subtleties of the ticket dispenser and the underground map - which truly does resemble a plate of spaghetti - I inserted my 3,000 Yen card into the machine, walked through the gate and found myself waiting on an early morning platform with hundreds of carefully coiffured, sharp-suited city gents.

Being late for work or an appointment in Japan is a huge 'no no'. So to ensure as many people as possible squeeze on to the regular-as-clockwork rush hour trains, an army of what appear to be a cross between mime artists and snooker referees have been hired.

Known simply as 'people pushers' the job of these white-shirted, white-gloved men (always men for some reason) is literally to give the poor folk caught in the no man's land between platform and carriage a big 'shove' into the trains.

I'll be honest, catching a rush hour Tokyo tube wasn't particularly relaxing, but I did get to inspect the dandruff levels on scores of Japanese heads (generally pretty clean), because even though I am certainly not tall, compared to the natives I'm a relative giant.

Despite the lack of breathing space, the 'salary men' all somehow manage to digest a broadsheet newspaper. Using some kind of magical origami-style-folding technique they manipulate their papers into about twelve neat readable sections.

Exploring Tokyo is definitely worth the slight discomfort of a packed train. The centre consists of about a dozen different areas each with its own unique character.

I started off my exploration in Ginza. This is the chic, shopping heartland (think Oxford Street) where you can buy a beer for £25 or go and play with the latest toys (think Hamleys) at the country's biggest toy shop Hatuhinkan Toy Park.

The district of Akihabara has more stores selling hi-tech, electrical goods than you could possibly imagine. Shelf upon shelf, in street upon street, of digital cameras, Ipods, mobile phones and computers.

They are supposedly discounted, but Japan is not a cheap country and I found things were about the same price, if not slightly more than in England.

A quick people push, and another intake of breath among a sea of people and I was in the district of Asakusa where the city's most impressive, and the country's largest, temple - the Senso Ji - sits adjacent to a much more modest Shinto shrine.

The city also boasts the biggest fish market in the world at Tjukiji.

Japan is big on fish and this is the place where the city's restaurateurs come to get their produce. Everything from giant squid to four-metre long tuna fish are on sale here.

The most neon-lit, labyrinthine, hustley bustley part of the city is a place called Shibuya.

Arriving here in the early evening, I went into sensory meltdown as I scanned the horizon to see high-rise building after high-rise building, each plastered in lights.

In the city, I never once felt in threatened or in danger.

The facts speak for themselves. Apart from some fairly nasty violence between the mafia-style Yakusa gangs, petty crimes, such as muggings and thefts are almost non-existant in Japan. People seem to just go about their own business and only worry about anybody else's if they sense they need help.

But there is a lot more to this wonderful country than Tokyo, so I took a two-hour train ride away from the city to check out the famous Mount Fuji, but, before I could attempt to climb it I had to purchase some trainers, as I had been told that its thick, black, powdery volcanic rock would destroy whatever I was wearing.

Trying to find a pair of size 11 trainers in Japan is no easy task however, as the average Japanese foot is a good five sizes smaller. And after a lengthy search, the only place I could find anything that fitted was in a secondhand shop.

Although the footwear I stumbled upon was described as 'all terrain' it clearly wasn't and I was done like a kipper by the Arfur Daley of Japan - a 70-plus-year-old woman who used her only two words of English 'werry handsome' to smooth talk me into buying what were effectively a bright blue pair of slippers.

Although there are some beautiful places in Northern Japan, I decided to catch a night bus south to the city of Osaka.

Night buses obviously aren't the most luxurious way to travel, but they are a good, cheap option. I had plenty of room to stretch out and with military type precision I soon learned that the lights are always switched off at exactly 11.30pm.

Arriving in Osaka at about lunchtime I spent the afternoon looking around the city's main attraction, 'the old castle', before heading to the business or capsule hotel (men only).

After taking my shoes off in the downstairs lobby I was shown to my room or rather my capsule, which was literally a three-foot high, seven-foot long plastic shell with a mattress on the floor, an alarm clock and a TV attached to the ceiling. To my right were at least 30 more capsules, with two more rows, accessible via ladders, above me.

I put my rucksack in a locker and went to find out where I could get a wash and finally discovered a giant bath on the eighth floor full of naked Japanese men...

Confused, mildly embarrassed but highly amused at the same time, I thought 'what the hell', stripped off and put on the dressing gown I had been given. I took a shower and then joined the stern looking Japanese faces in the tub of warm water (known as Onsen).

It was a slightly weird experience because nobody spoke or looked at each other. In fact, I quickly concluded that this was very much an eyes down wash and get the hell out of there situation and so made a swift exit.

Osaka has a great nightlife and there are a hundreds of restaurants and bars. The local delicacy is Octopus balls - that's bits of Octopus in batter. They're okay, but I don't expect to see Jamie Oliver raving about them any time soon.

My final destination was the former Japanese capital of Kyoto.

I decided to take the Bullet train which was obviously a lot more comfortable than a night bus, and a lot faster too. I shot along at 150mph and amazingly it was one of the smoothest rides I have ever experienced.

Having booked myself into a small motel in Kyoto where the owner had an unhealthy obsession for Queen I spent a day looking at temples.

Don't get me wrong, I'm as impressed by a nifty piece of architecture as much as the next man, but sometimes when you've seen one temple you've seen them all and after my ninth of the day - "oh look another Buddha statue" - I was pretty much templed out so I headed down to the district of Gion, made famous by the book and later the film, Memoirs of a Geisha.

Although the number of women still partaking in this discipline has decreased in recent years, I saw several of them shuffling down the old streets heading for tea houses in the district.

And all too quickly my travels in this incredible country were over.

I was surprised by the lack of Westerners I saw holidaying in Japan. Apart from businessmen I can count on one hand the number of Western faces I came across. And yet I really did love this place.

It is safe, the people are friendly, it has probably the best public transport system in the world...