Taking the wrong train and the fun times that ensue

There are many different train lines and companies in and around Tokyo. Typically, each train has its own stop on its own platform or on a particular side of one platform so it's very easy to know which train you're getting on in principle.

However, in practice some trains will change into other trains or the line will branch or something else. Generally, the terminal stop is indicated both on the train and on the signs so you should know what you're in for, but sometimes you're not paying attention when you get on the train or you just get really unlucky when a train that you thought would turn into a local train turns into an express.

In general, the best thing to do in this situation is to get off the train as soon as you discover your error and either backtrack or take an alternate route (if you know one). As long as it's not the last train, it isn't necessarily that big of a deal, although taking an alternate route might cost you a bit more, especially if it involves changing to a different train line or company. Also, if you mess up your attempt to backtrack, you might also end up spending more than you planned on.

For example, the other week I was taking the Fukutoshin line (part of the Tokyo Metro system) home from Ikebukuro. This platform has one Fukutoshin train going toward downtown Tokyo and one going further out. A few stops after Ikebukuro on this line, however, this train branches; one line continues to be the Fukutoshin while the other becomes a Seibu-Ikebukuro train or something (owned by Seibu).

I wasn't paying attention and I accidentally got on the express train that was going to turn into a Seibu. I could have got off at the next stop on the express and it would have been fine, but I was reading or playing with my phone or something and didn't notice until the announcement for Nerima started. I know that Nerima is definitely not the right way.

So I got off at Nerima and went onto the platform that I believed should be retracing my steps (also, everyone on the platform stared at me so I suspect that not many foreigners go there), but instead of getting onto the Seibu train that would turn back into a Yurakucho, I got on one that remained a Seibu train until it rolled up to Ikebukuro on a different platform.

So I had to leave at the gate, pay my 440 yen (I had taken a different Tokyo Metro train line to get to Ikebukuro in the first place) and then go back to a train that would take me to my station, paying another 240 to get home (for reference, I can go almost all over Tokyo from my station on 240 yen).

I could have got back on the train going the other way and get on the correct train that would take me to the right platform. However, I was tired and hungry so I just wanted to go home instead of continuing to play train pinball.

Since then, I definitely pay much more attention to the trains before I get on them.

IC cards and you

In an earlier post, I mentioned that Japan is a cash-based society. There is one notable and interesting exception to this, however. While stores will often not accept credit cards, they will sometimes accept integrated circuit (IC) cards, especially if they are in or near a train station.

IC cards are essentially little plastic cards that one loads up with cash, which one then spends later. Their primary purpose is for use on public transportation in Japan since they are accepted in many places and mean that one does not have to calculate the fare (because train fare is a combination of start up fee + distance charge) and buy tickets for every part of the journey.  Instead, one can just wave their card at a card reader and have the appropriate fare deducted from the card.

Train safety poster

Around train stations, I'll sometimes see these posters which I find inexplicably funny.

I suppose it's the way the salaryman is depicted as being drunk that's so funny. It's effectively conveyed without the usual sort of cues of drunkenness. He's not holding a bottle or half-passed out; instead, he's merrily (if haphazardly) walking along the edge of the platform without a care in the world and only his loosened tie, rosy cheeks and obvious poor decision making tell you that he's probably not sober.

It might also be funny to me because it's a businessman who is drunk instead of a student or someone who is more typically associated with drunken behaviour in Canada (like people wearing hockey jerseys after a playoff game). While I assume that business people go out and get drunk after work with their colleagues sometimes in Canada, it's not something I think of as happening as much (perhaps in part because the transit isn't generally as good so many people have to drive to work).

These posters advertise the existence of these emergency stop buttons (shown on the centre left and bottom right of the poster), which can stop an incoming train if someone has fallen onto the tracks. It's also possible that it's supposed to give some lesson about how safety on the platform. In the bottom right of the main image, there's some statement about alcohol (presumably about alcohol-related accidents around the train platform, though I mostly understand "platform", "alcohol" and "63.5%") and one might note that the drunken salaryman isn't the only person being unsafe (there's someone strolling along the wrong side of the yellow line reading a book as well).

One thing that I quite like about Japan is that even though I can't read these kinds of posters especially well (yet), the message is relatively clear and the posters themselves often pretty cute. I'm not sure I can say the same about posters I'd see on mass transit in Canada (where images of poorly-rendered cartoon characters standing around are sometimes supposed to tell you to be polite on the bus).

Rush hour train insanity

It was a little after 9 in the morning when we got down to the platform. I took a picture of a funny-looking bench and we chatted while waiting for the train. We were both pretty tired, having been out until we missed the last train back home the night before (fortunately, Chase let us crash at his house) and I wanted nothing more than to get some breakfast and take a nap.

The train rolled up and as the first few cars rolled by, I didn't notice anything unusual. However, as the train started to slow down, I began to realize how uncomfortable our ride to Shinjuku would be.

I thought that I'd seen crowded trains before, but I'd never seen anything like this. Behind each door, there was a wall of people. In one car, a mittened hand was smushed against the window on a door. In the next car, a man's cheek was flattened on the glass.

"What in the fuck?!" I exclaimed in disbelief. "Maybe some of them will get off?"
"Not enough." daid replied.

When the train stopped, some people got off and I was hopeful for a moment. Until they all turned around. They'd gotten off the train because they were getting out of the way in case anyone else wanted off, not because they were getting off the train.

After the few people getting off the train were clear, we approached the train and tried to press ourselves into the solid wall of people standing in front of the door. daid managed to get into one door and a railway employee helpfully directed me to the next door over where there was a small space (though it took him two tries because I didn't understand what he was saying since my Japanese still sucks).

I got on the train and the doors barely shut in front of me. I managed to move my arms enough to hold my bag up to make more room at hip level where it seemed to be required and I tried to hold onto the small ledge above the door. Although everyone was tightly packed, the trains on the Keio line lurch more than most trains around Tokyo and I didn't want to accidentally lean heavily on one of my neighbours. The ride was uncomfortable enough without doing that.

It was a bit difficult to breathe from the weight of everyone around me and someone behind me was squirming a bit. I couldn't turn around to see who it was and I couldn't move anywhere to give them more space. I just stood there waiting for the next stop and hoping that nobody else would want on the train.

At the next stop, the line ups extended from the edge of the platform to the wall. I got off the train to let anyone who wanted off get off the train and I got the first look at the person who was squirming behind me as a woman and a young boy got off the train (I imagine that as bad as a train that crowded is for adults, it's probably worse for kids).

Luckily, almost half the passengers on the train got off. When I got back on the train, I was able to actually stand in the aisle and move my arms and hold onto a strap. The train was still pretty full once all the new passengers were on, but it was much better than before. When the train got to Shinjuku, everyone emptied out and I reunited with daid as we followed the crowd up the stairs and through the transfer area to the JR line.¹

As we waited for the train on the Yamanote line, we discussed how ridiculous the last train was and how it was somewhat infamous for this sort of thing. In principle, busier trains exist (at least the guy at the station didn't have to push anyone into the train) and probably the train we were on was much busier earlier in the day since we got on the train after 9 when many people would already have to be at work. I do not especially wish to experience those trains though.

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^{1. In general, it is much easier to follow the crowd when getting off a train and typically, the crowd knows where to go so you probably want to follow them anyway.↩}