Taking the train

In my time in Japan, I’ve become something of a train nut. It’s been building for quite some time now: looking back, when I was a kid, my father would always be tinkering with his train layouts in his spare time, and he had (and maybe still does have) an impressive collection of tapes about trainspotting. Not the critically-acclaimed film about drug addiction, mind you, but the hobby of standing near railroad tracks and filming a train going by. Sometimes, these trains would be ridiculously long, and my father would sit there and watch as car after car passed by on screen. I never quite understood the appeal, but I didn’t mind too much all the train shows and exhibits he’d take me to, and after all these years, I guess his hobbies ended up instilling me with a latent appreciation for trains. I didn’t realize just how far I’d come, until a student labeled me a “train otaku” (an otaku is basically a hyper-geek of a specific hobby) after I gave him precise, unsolicited directions to a place he mentioned in passing that he’d like to visit. This is all a roundabout way of introducing my topic for this week, which is rail travel in Japan.

Those of you familiar with rail transportation as it exists in the US can be forgiven if you must momentarily suppress a shiver of revulsion. The heyday of railroads in the US can firmly be placed over 100 years ago, and its long decline has only been hastened by the advent of the automobile, as well as lack of upkeep in general on long-distance routes. (On a local note, there used to be a rail line into downtown Clayton, ending at a ferry terminal in what is now Frink Park. The track was disused for years before finally being removed in the ’60s.) It certainly doesn’t help the situation any that Amtrak, the government-run passenger service, is only slightly better than “abysmal”. Having few tracks of their own, they mostly run on freight lines, and when they’re behind schedule (i.e., all the time), it’s behind the freight trains they go. I won’t even get started on the safety record.

But here in Japan, things are quite different. The country in general has a very extensive rail network, which is no small feat for an archipelago that also happens to be covered by mountains. But aside from the impressive array of tunnels through solid rock and under bodies of water, the trains are also – for the most part – fast, safe, and reliably on time. (Japanese people tend to think of a train as “late” if it’s off the schedule by a couple of minutes; I’m just grateful it appears within the same hour as the listed time.) Osaka in particular is great for getting around by train: including the quasi-national Japan Rail (JR), there are some ten-ish operators and a plethora of lines to choose from in this prefecture alone. In fact (according to that bastion of trivia, Wikipedia), some 10 million people in the region use trains as their primary means of transportation, which is second in the world to (you guessed it) Tokyo.

Of course, Japan is better known for its high-speed trains, the Shinkansen (“Bullet Train” to the uninitiated). These trains move at phenomenally fast speeds, and will eventually form one grand arc across the spine of the island chain, from Sapporo to Kagoshima. Needless to say, this is primarily a means of intercity transportation – what with the “Super Express” surcharge and all – but I’m lucky enough to have ridden on it several times in the past. The experience is, in all honesty, quite mundane: although going through tunnels can be punishment on the eardrums, it’s rather like stepping off the platform in one city and stepping out onto another in a completely different part of the country. In a way, it doesn’t really allow you to take in the points in between in any meaningful fashion; they’re all a blur in the window. And that’s why, when I went to Tokyo for the New Year holiday, I took the regular train. It was, as it turns out, quite scenic, and I felt like I really got to see more of the country. It was also, as it turns out, 10 hours spent standing in uncomfortably crowded trains, versus two and a half with my own seat on the Shinkansen. Shizuoka Prefecture in particular was a form of torment, where the only regular trains were local ones, and the Shinkansen ran directly parallel, whooshing past every 15 minutes or so. All-in-all, while it was certainly an interesting trip, maybe next time I’ll just take the Shinkansen.

In spite of this long-distance experience, however, I am still quite fond of the trains within Osaka. I commuted using one for my first six months here, and I still make an effort to go to interesting places (or at least into the city) via rail every so often. In a way, the journey itself is part of the fun – even if people look at me funny when I can recite the train announcements verbatim. It’s probably far more enjoyment than I should be taking out of what is essentially a mass transit system, but I can’t help but feel a thrill when I learn that Hanshin Railway and Kintetsu Corporation will soon be operating through trains between Kobe and Nara via Osaka’s central rail hub at Namba. It’s a new route to explore, taking me through places I’ve never been (or at least, I haven’t seen from that particular vantage point). Does no one else find this exciting?

In the interest of full disclosure, though, I should at least mention that while riding Japanese trains is largely a painless experience, there are a number of issues that come up with rather unfortunate regularity: the number of “chikan” (molestation) incidents during peak hours, which has resulted in most railway lines adding “women-only” cars for particularly crowded periods; the general crowdedness of trains in general during rush hour; and the occasional decision of a beleaguered white-collar worker to slip the surly bonds of personal responsibility, and paint the tracks a shade of crimson (I feel kind of gross for writing that, but it’s sadly true).

Luckily, once again I can thank my lucky stars that I live in Osaka, because whatever problems might impact rail travel here, it’s worse in Tokyo. I suppose that’s inevitable considering Tokyo’s absolutely dizzying array of rail options, the number of people who use them, and the cascading effect a small delay on one line can have on precisely-timed transfers everywhere else, but at least Osaka doesn’t have people whose sole job it is to stuff more people into the train when it’s already full. That said, with my train obsession in full swing, there’s no way I’ll be able to stay away for too long, no matter where in the country I go.