Michael Portillo on his Great Japanese Railway Journeys
Hot sand baths, risky sushi, robot carers... Japan delivered no end of thrills and suprises, says Michael Portillo
Ed Grenby - 14 April 2026
So you went to Japan and they buried you?
Up to my neck in black sand, yes. Hot springs are a big thing out there because of all the volcanic activity, and I went to one on Kyushu [the southernmost of Japan’s four main islands], where the subterranean waters heat the sands, and they bury you in it. It’s supposed to be good for all sorts of bits for you – people swear by it for the circulation, digestion and so on – and it’s really no odder than going to a sauna.
Except in a sauna you’re not buried. What if they forget to exhume you?
It’s doubtful whether you could get yourself out, but there are people on hand to help. And they’re very kind: they stuck a parasol on my head to protect me from the sun – although it then poured with rain, and it was one of those pretty paper ones so not terribly effective at keeping me dry. I won’t be hurrying to do the whole thing again, though I did love Kyushu. Not far from Ibusuki, where they buried me, is a very beautiful volcano called Sakurajima, which translates as ‘Cherry Blossom Island’. It’s perfectly volcano-shaped, and it’s one of Japan’s most active, so everyone in the area is drilled on what to do if it erupts. We saw all these tiny tots going to school in their pink hard hats and carrying survival cases.
You survived another near-death experience with your dinner, didn’t you…
Yes, there was the pufferfish. This is the Japanese delicacy that naturally contains a deadly neurotoxin with no known antidote, so chefs have to have something like 20 years of training before they’re licenced to prepare it. I tried it at Shimonoseki, on the main island, Honshu, and you have this real feeling of playing Russian – or Japanese – Roulette.
It tasted extremely like fish. It was quite pleasant – neither the best nor the worst fish I’ve ever had, though possibly the most exciting, given that I was dicing with death. It was certainly better than the fried octopus balls I had in Osaka, but nowhere near as good as the sushi. That was gorgeous. Sushi chefs, too, have years and years of training, and to see it carved in front of you, with all this delicacy and artistry, is tremendous. I’d never understood this before, but the chef told me the most delicate thing to do is swallow the entire piece of sushi in one go – and these are quite large pieces. Now mine is not a small mouth, but nonetheless conversation was not possible for some time after each mouthful.
You didn’t suspect they were giving you extra big bits just to shut you up?
I did not. That’s simply not the way the Japanese think. In fact, I found them incredibly friendly. Thanks to Google Translate, you can sit down with people anywhere and have a chat: if they don’t speak English, they simply pass you their mobile phone, you speak into it, and it’s immediately translated for them. It’s now very easy for foreigners to get about too: on the Tokyo subway, for instance, there are signs and announcements in English. In fact, each station has its own jingle. So if you’re a routine commuter, you don’t even have to look up from your iPhone: you just hear the jingle, have a Pavlovian reaction and leave the train.
Please tell me ‘tube stop jingles’ weren’t the most futuristic thing you experienced.
No, at Waseda University, also in Tokyo, I met these robots they’re developing to help elderly people, because Japan has such an ageing population, with low birth rates and very little immigration. That said, I think the robots have some way to go. There was one that’s meant to turn people over in bed: it sort of sticks an arm under your knees, and another one goes on your back, and it’s meant to give you a little flip.
It didn’t throw you halfway across the room, did it?
No, the opposite. I think it was used to more delicate Japanese forms rather than a heavy Westerner. I’m not a slight creature, so I had to give it a bit of help. Then there was another one that’s meant to take your shirt off and hang it up. It did that all right, but when it was offered one of my jackets, which are heaveier, that was too much for it. It just dropped it on the floor. Did it do that on grounds of taste, because the AI objected to my colourful wardrobe? I don’t think so…
Up to my neck in black sand, yes. Hot springs are a big thing out there because of all the volcanic activity, and I went to one on Kyushu [the southernmost of Japan’s four main islands], where the subterranean waters heat the sands, and they bury you in it. It’s supposed to be good for all sorts of bits for you – people swear by it for the circulation, digestion and so on – and it’s really no odder than going to a sauna.
Except in a sauna you’re not buried. What if they forget to exhume you?
It’s doubtful whether you could get yourself out, but there are people on hand to help. And they’re very kind: they stuck a parasol on my head to protect me from the sun – although it then poured with rain, and it was one of those pretty paper ones so not terribly effective at keeping me dry. I won’t be hurrying to do the whole thing again, though I did love Kyushu. Not far from Ibusuki, where they buried me, is a very beautiful volcano called Sakurajima, which translates as ‘Cherry Blossom Island’. It’s perfectly volcano-shaped, and it’s one of Japan’s most active, so everyone in the area is drilled on what to do if it erupts. We saw all these tiny tots going to school in their pink hard hats and carrying survival cases.
You survived another near-death experience with your dinner, didn’t you…
Yes, there was the pufferfish. This is the Japanese delicacy that naturally contains a deadly neurotoxin with no known antidote, so chefs have to have something like 20 years of training before they’re licenced to prepare it. I tried it at Shimonoseki, on the main island, Honshu, and you have this real feeling of playing Russian – or Japanese – Roulette.
What does it taste like? I’m guessing… fish?
It tasted extremely like fish. It was quite pleasant – neither the best nor the worst fish I’ve ever had, though possibly the most exciting, given that I was dicing with death. It was certainly better than the fried octopus balls I had in Osaka, but nowhere near as good as the sushi. That was gorgeous. Sushi chefs, too, have years and years of training, and to see it carved in front of you, with all this delicacy and artistry, is tremendous. I’d never understood this before, but the chef told me the most delicate thing to do is swallow the entire piece of sushi in one go – and these are quite large pieces. Now mine is not a small mouth, but nonetheless conversation was not possible for some time after each mouthful.
You didn’t suspect they were giving you extra big bits just to shut you up?
I did not. That’s simply not the way the Japanese think. In fact, I found them incredibly friendly. Thanks to Google Translate, you can sit down with people anywhere and have a chat: if they don’t speak English, they simply pass you their mobile phone, you speak into it, and it’s immediately translated for them. It’s now very easy for foreigners to get about too: on the Tokyo subway, for instance, there are signs and announcements in English. In fact, each station has its own jingle. So if you’re a routine commuter, you don’t even have to look up from your iPhone: you just hear the jingle, have a Pavlovian reaction and leave the train.
Please tell me ‘tube stop jingles’ weren’t the most futuristic thing you experienced.
No, at Waseda University, also in Tokyo, I met these robots they’re developing to help elderly people, because Japan has such an ageing population, with low birth rates and very little immigration. That said, I think the robots have some way to go. There was one that’s meant to turn people over in bed: it sort of sticks an arm under your knees, and another one goes on your back, and it’s meant to give you a little flip.
It didn’t throw you halfway across the room, did it?
No, the opposite. I think it was used to more delicate Japanese forms rather than a heavy Westerner. I’m not a slight creature, so I had to give it a bit of help. Then there was another one that’s meant to take your shirt off and hang it up. It did that all right, but when it was offered one of my jackets, which are heaveier, that was too much for it. It just dropped it on the floor. Did it do that on grounds of taste, because the AI objected to my colourful wardrobe? I don’t think so…
Great Japanese Railway Journeys
Monday-Friday 6:30pm, BBC Two