Trading Bullet Trains for Beaches: Dropping Out of Society in Japan’s Tropical South
Back in 2017, Barbie and I spent two months exploring Japan’s mainland, hopping between iconic stops like Tokyo, Kyoto, Osaka, Hiroshima, Takayama, Kanazawa, and Kamakura. Zipping around on the Shinkansen, Japan’s legendary high-speed trains, was half the fun. Japan quickly cemented itself as one of our absolute favorite countries on our round-the-world journey, thanks to its mind-blowing food, calm and incredibly polite culture, and a pace of life that somehow feels relaxed, even within the controlled chaos of Tokyo.
This time around, we decided to switch things up and go full tropical.
No bullet trains. No neon-lit megacities. No dodging selfie sticks in Shibuya. Instead of revisiting the big-name mainland hubs, we slowed the pace way down and headed to Japan’s far south—its subtropical islands.
Before our first trip years ago, I didn’t even know Japan had white-sand beaches. Most travelers stick to the standard mainland route (and understandably so, given limited vacation time), but the southern islands offer a completely different side of the country. We decided it was time to trade skyscrapers for sand, and sushi for… well, actually, just more sushi.
The Ultimate Flashpacker Compromise
Barbie and I both love the beach, but we also adore the Japanese lifestyle. By heading south, we hit the ultimate flashpacker jackpot: we got to experience all the cool, quirky cultural perks that Japanese cities have on tap, but with a laid-back beach vibe twist.
There are plenty of highly rated islands to choose from—Okinawa, Amami Oshima, Miyako-jima, Ishigaki, and Taketomi, to name a few. With summer in full swing and beach days calling our names, we set our sights on Okinawa and Ishigaki. These two islands are technically Japan, but geographically, they’re actually closer to Taiwan than Tokyo. For us, it was the perfect blend: pure island life with a healthy dose of Japanese eccentricity.
The Japanese people remain some of the kindest and most respectful humans in the world—calm, quiet, organized, and spot on punctual. But even after 30 years of backpacking, Japan can still feel incredibly insular. Even as a tourist, you quickly sense a subtle “members-only” vibe. You’re either Japanese, or you’re not. It’s never unwelcoming, but you are always firmly aware of your status in the “foreigner” category.
Visiting Okinawa and Ishigaki requires you to be at the top of your travel game. You have to sharpen your navigation skills because you will constantly be figuring things out on the fly. That said, the hospitality here is unmatched; if you look remotely lost or confused, locals will literally drop what they’re doing to lend a helping hand.
To get around, renting a car was absolutely essential. Luckily, having driven on the left side of the road in Australia, New Zealand, Thailand, and Ireland, I was comfortable with the switch. My brain only raced for the first five minutes before I settled into the rhythm of the steering wheel being on the “wrong” side of the car.
The actual driving around the islands was simple, but reading road signs and eating was a different puzzle entirely. English signage? Basically nonexistent. Most storefronts gave no clue as to what they actually sold, and restaurant menus—when you could find them—rarely had pictures or English translations.
You could walk into a ramen shop and face a hundred different broth variations, none of which you understood. It was basically Fear Factor without Joe Rogan explaining what was about to go into your mouth. You could end up with a perfectly cooked bowl of comfort food, or accidentally order raw jellyfish.
Sushi was the exact same story. Sure, tuna, salmon, and yellowtail are easy enough to spot, but the rest? Total sashimi roulette. Dozens of mysterious raw fish varieties were lined up with zero translation. Google Translate helped occasionally, but sometimes we just pointed to whatever option on the menu had the most “thumbs up” icons and hoped for the best.
Beyond the seafood, Japan has a fascinating love affair with American culture. Hip-hop is massive, and tacos are all the rage. In fact, one of Okinawa’s hyper-local specialties is “taco rice,” which is exactly what it sounds like: deconstructed taco ingredients served over a bed of rice. And honestly? It completely works.
When we weren’t eating, we were stumbling into giant arcade halls filled with flashing claw machines. Interestingly, people weren’t just playing for stuffed animals; you could win practical daily prizes like toilet paper, dish soap, ramen packets, and luxury snacks. Watching teenagers, retirees, and probably a few off-duty corporate CEOs going all-in for household goods was oddly mesmerizing.
Naturally, I had to try. At one point, I had a kick-ass samurai doll with a kung-fu grip firmly secured in the claw. I was ready to claim my prize when the machine did a classic herky-jerky twitch and dropped my shit right before the chute. After that heartbreak, I officially resigned myself to the fact that the claw game is universally rigged.
Slowing Down in Ishigaki
While Okinawa gave us a busier, larger island vibe—to the point where Barbie and I would occasionally forget we were in the middle of the East China Sea—the island of Ishigaki felt like a truly remote escape.
Ishigaki is small, intimate, and quiet. The streets are peaceful, the pace is wonderfully slow, and it was almost exclusively Japanese locals going about their daily lives.
Flashpacker Tip: While there were plenty of enticing nearby tropical islands we could have reached by ferry, we decided to keep things simple. Instead of constantly packing bags and hopping from place to place, we settled in. We fully explored everything Okinawa and Ishigaki had to offer by letting each day unfold naturally, without the rush of catching the next flight.
We absolutely loved our time in Japan’s southern paradise. But now, it’s time to move on. We are heading back to our familiar stomping grounds in Thailand to regroup, reflect, and plot out the next leg of our journey through the summer months.
Big Doug & Barbie Drop Out of Society 