Getting Lucky in the Land of the Rising Sun
Ian D. Robinson
Met someone nice on your trip to Japan? Want to spend some quality time alone but don’t know where to take them? Don’t worry, everything’s sorted, waiting and ready to go in a ‘Love Hotel’!
In hyper-convenient Japan there is a push-button solution to every problem, minor or major, and the dilemma of where to spend a romantic hour or two in private seclusion with your sweetheart, or with someone you’ve just met, can be solved by the Japanese institution known as the ‘Love Hotel’.
Usually located in quiet streets on the city’s fringe, these discreet establishments evolved from chaya, tearooms once used by prostitutes, entertainers and lovers. During the economic boom of the 60s, 70s and 80s they became a solution to the problem of Japanese families living in increasingly small dwellings where a live-in mother-in-law could hear everything through thin walls. But let’s be honest, the real spirit of the love hotel comes from illegitimate couples on secret rendezvous, rabu hoteru are the places to go with someone you shouldn’t be going to such a place with.
The figures that illustrate the popularity of Japanese love hotels are a staggering 500 million visits a year, that equates to, on any given day, two percent of Japan’s population visits a love hotel! Much of the clientele are young unmarried couples; the flatting situation is almost unknown in Japan as the majority live with their parents until they get hitched and having your girlfriend over for the night at your folk’s place would be awkward to the point of being absurd for most.
There is a selection of establishments in the street my companion and I find ourselves in, places with vaguely suggestive names like ‘Hotel With’ and ‘Couple World’. These days the term ‘love hotel’ has become somewhat dated and other more colourful labels such as ‘leisure hotel’ or ‘amusement hotel’ are being applied. The ‘romance hotel’ we choose even has discreet parking behind a large heavy curtain, walking past I’m amused to glance under the screen and see the black and white markings of a police patrol car, perhaps someone is paying off a speeding ticket?
Through the front door and into a gleaming, silent marble lobby that has no reception desk, instead there is an illuminated board with photos of the different rooms available and their prices, by the hour, or three, or for the whole night. Fees range between three and five thousand yen for two hours (about $60 to $100) and can differ depending on the day of the week. The cost of an amorous tête-à-tête can skyrocket on Valentine’s Day and other public holidays. The pictures of those already occupied by clandestine couples are darkened and the dark pictures make me wonder who is behind them. ‘I wonder which one the cop’s in?’ I say.
‘Shhh! I’m shy! Just choose the room!’ My partner is embarrassed to be there at all.
I pick one, push a button next to the photo and we take the lift up to the fifth floor. The hallway is silent but a blinking white light on the wall directs us to our room. Inside we lock the door and remove our shoes, a moment later the telephone rings and an invisible receptionist wants to know how long we intend to stay and then hangs up.
Payment procedures differ from place to place but in our establishment there is a small opening set into the wall by the door, inside is a narrow plastic tube. The drill is to take out the tube, unscrew the top, insert enough money to pay for the room and replace the tube. Push another button and the tube is sucked away by vacuum up the pipe to an invisible cashier who takes the money and sends the tube back with the change. Everything is perfectly unobtrusive, secret and unseen; we have checked into a hotel room and not met anyone’s eyes.
With the routine complete it’s time to relax, or not. The room is windowless but large and softy lit, the bed’s huge and the bedside table is stocked with complimentary condoms, safety comes first in Japan! There is a jacuzzi style bath big enough for two (at least), adults only entertainment on TV (in case you run out of ideas), room service (just in case you get hungry), and many love hotels sell costumes, feather dusters, toys, and handcuffs (if you’re into that sort of thing).
In the corner there is also a karaoke machine, I’m guessing that’s for in case things don’t work out as planned or if you really get bored, and these days the growing concept of the love hotel is limited only by the imagination. Theme rooms are popular; full sized swimming pools, space ships, Arabian Knights, Medieval Chambers and I’ve even heard if indoor go-kart tracks for those wanting to take a naked spin, now that can’t be safe!
Ian D. Robinson
Met someone nice on your trip to Japan? Want to spend some quality time alone but don’t know where to take them? Don’t worry, everything’s sorted, waiting and ready to go in a ‘Love Hotel’!
In hyper-convenient Japan there is a push-button solution to every problem, minor or major, and the dilemma of where to spend a romantic hour or two in private seclusion with your sweetheart, or with someone you’ve just met, can be solved by the Japanese institution known as the ‘Love Hotel’.
Usually located in quiet streets on the city’s fringe, these discreet establishments evolved from chaya, tearooms once used by prostitutes, entertainers and lovers. During the economic boom of the 60s, 70s and 80s they became a solution to the problem of Japanese families living in increasingly small dwellings where a live-in mother-in-law could hear everything through thin walls. But let’s be honest, the real spirit of the love hotel comes from illegitimate couples on secret rendezvous, rabu hoteru are the places to go with someone you shouldn’t be going to such a place with.
The figures that illustrate the popularity of Japanese love hotels are a staggering 500 million visits a year, that equates to, on any given day, two percent of Japan’s population visits a love hotel! Much of the clientele are young unmarried couples; the flatting situation is almost unknown in Japan as the majority live with their parents until they get hitched and having your girlfriend over for the night at your folk’s place would be awkward to the point of being absurd for most.
There is a selection of establishments in the street my companion and I find ourselves in, places with vaguely suggestive names like ‘Hotel With’ and ‘Couple World’. These days the term ‘love hotel’ has become somewhat dated and other more colourful labels such as ‘leisure hotel’ or ‘amusement hotel’ are being applied. The ‘romance hotel’ we choose even has discreet parking behind a large heavy curtain, walking past I’m amused to glance under the screen and see the black and white markings of a police patrol car, perhaps someone is paying off a speeding ticket?
Through the front door and into a gleaming, silent marble lobby that has no reception desk, instead there is an illuminated board with photos of the different rooms available and their prices, by the hour, or three, or for the whole night. Fees range between three and five thousand yen for two hours (about $60 to $100) and can differ depending on the day of the week. The cost of an amorous tête-à-tête can skyrocket on Valentine’s Day and other public holidays. The pictures of those already occupied by clandestine couples are darkened and the dark pictures make me wonder who is behind them. ‘I wonder which one the cop’s in?’ I say.
‘Shhh! I’m shy! Just choose the room!’ My partner is embarrassed to be there at all.
I pick one, push a button next to the photo and we take the lift up to the fifth floor. The hallway is silent but a blinking white light on the wall directs us to our room. Inside we lock the door and remove our shoes, a moment later the telephone rings and an invisible receptionist wants to know how long we intend to stay and then hangs up.
Payment procedures differ from place to place but in our establishment there is a small opening set into the wall by the door, inside is a narrow plastic tube. The drill is to take out the tube, unscrew the top, insert enough money to pay for the room and replace the tube. Push another button and the tube is sucked away by vacuum up the pipe to an invisible cashier who takes the money and sends the tube back with the change. Everything is perfectly unobtrusive, secret and unseen; we have checked into a hotel room and not met anyone’s eyes.
With the routine complete it’s time to relax, or not. The room is windowless but large and softy lit, the bed’s huge and the bedside table is stocked with complimentary condoms, safety comes first in Japan! There is a jacuzzi style bath big enough for two (at least), adults only entertainment on TV (in case you run out of ideas), room service (just in case you get hungry), and many love hotels sell costumes, feather dusters, toys, and handcuffs (if you’re into that sort of thing).
In the corner there is also a karaoke machine, I’m guessing that’s for in case things don’t work out as planned or if you really get bored, and these days the growing concept of the love hotel is limited only by the imagination. Theme rooms are popular; full sized swimming pools, space ships, Arabian Knights, Medieval Chambers and I’ve even heard if indoor go-kart tracks for those wanting to take a naked spin, now that can’t be safe!
