Leopalace Internet: LEO-NET

Leopalace apartments come wired with the company's own proprietary broadband Internet service, dubbed レオネット, or LEO-NET. This is, to me, is one of the apartments' biggest strengths, but it also highlights exactly how little control you have when you live in Leopalace.

Check out our AccessJ review below.

Internet Speed
Of course the first thing any Internet-nerd is going to want to know about is the connection speed. LEO-NET is broadband, and in my case fiber-optic, but some buildings may use ADSL. And remember, since it's proprietary, that means every other apartment in your building is using the same main line as you.

That said, the speeds were, in my experience, fine. I didn't dread downloading 100MB files like I did back on my terrible DSL connection in the States, but things over a couple gigs (like a Steam purchase or something) usually meant I'd be leaving the computer on overnight. Compared to other fiber-optics connections I used, it felt slow; I couldn't expect the several-megabit-per-second speeds I'd had on NTT Flets or whatever tiny regional company it was that strung cables into my university dorm room, intent on swaying me to their service with bright-minded catchphrases about their Internet being "本当にベリーファスト."

Anyway, if you're mainly concerned about things like watching Youtube, then no worries: LEO-NET buffers streaming video as soon as you hit the page.


Reliability
In my case, I could almost expect LEO-NET to be down for a few days every other month for maintenance or some problem with my building. I imagine this isn't representative of all buildings, as it turned out that there was some physical damage to the line, and some third-party company had to come out on more than one occasion to fix it. The modems are all proprietary, of course, and can't (easily) be replaced by something else you buy yourself. They aren't bad, but they don't seem to be built for continuous operation. If you leave yours on all the time (instead of turning it off each time you're done using the Internet), you may find that every few weeks computers will mysteriously stop connecting to it. Cycling the power on the modem should fix the problem.

Signing In & Compatible Devices

I had some qualms about LEO-NET, the first of which was that it requires you to sign in every time you want to use it on a freshly rebooted device. If you're turning your computer/console on after a complete shutdown, the first time you open up a browser window and try to navigate to a page a popup will trigger asking you for your LEO-NET username and password.


That username and password should have been provided to you from the realtor in your moving-in booklet. Mine was on a flimsy blue sheet of A4 paper. The username and password are both long strings of numbers. Because they are a pain to remember, I used a magic marker to scrawl mine down in big numerals on a piece of paper and hung that on the wall (so I could see it from anywhere in the room).

Regardless, nothing on the Internet is accessible until that login information has been entered. Aside from PCs (Windows, Linux, and Mac), I was also able to get a Playstation 3 to connect to LEO-NET. You have to open up the console's browser once after every boot-up to get the "popup," but after you enter your credentials there you can play online without any hitches.

As for entering the username and password each time, I think I eventually got an obscure Linux browser (Kazehakase, perhaps?) to remember the credentials and automatically log me in whenever I started that browser, but I never found a way to do the same with Firefox or Chome at the time. For the PS3, I just had to enter the username and password on the crappy on-screen keyboard each time I played.

Multiple Devices

My other major complaint with the default setup is that it only allows you to attach one device to the Internet at a time. A standard ethernet cable snakes out from behind the LEO-NET modem, and you can attach that in to one device. If your device doesn't have an Ethernet port (i.e. iPad), LEO-NET tells you that sorry, you're just S.O.L.


I never tried to hook up a wireless router to my LEO-NET modem. It may be possible, but I don't know how you'd configure your router settings. It may "just work" or it may require you to play around a bit with the internals. Either way, I assume that after you got your device connected to the modem, you'd still need to open up a browser and enter your credentials into that obnoxious HTML port popup. Devices unable to provide that login prompt may simply be unable to use the connection.

I did, however, make good use of a cheap $10, 5-port hub. With that and a small collection of short Ethernet cables, I was able to connect all my devices and have them online simultaneously. Yes, I had to enter login credentials on each of them every time I powered them on.


Ready to Go

Perhaps the biggest strength of LEO-NET is that it's already wired into your room and ready to go, even before you move in. At other apartments, you have to contact a provider, make sure they have main lines installed at your building, then schedule a day for them to come and run a smaller line up to your actual apartment. During peak moving times, the installers can be booked at all times of day for 3 or 4 weeks. That can mean a sizable gap between moving in and using the Internet. And if you insist on a Saturday installation (because, you know, you have a job), you may be stuck waiting for a month or two before they can come hook your apartment up. This is pretty obnoxious around moving time, when you might want Internet access at home to communicate with family, employers, or to shop online for furniture and stuff for your new place, and I think this is especially pertinent when you're moving into a new place abroad. LEO-NET preemptively knocks that problem out of the way for you.


I hope you enjoyed our series on Leopalace apartments or found it useful in your own preparations to move to Japan. If you have any more comments on your experiences using LEO-NET, or if you have any questions about it, let us know!

Leopalace Furnishings and Bathrooms

They advertise it like this.

Recently we've been looking at the ubiquitous pay-by-the-month Leopalace apartments of Japan. ALTs are often placed in these buildings, because their managing company (that is, the apartments' managing company) plays down a few rules of traditional Japanese real estate, including nixing the need for a guarantor and being friendly, or at least open, towards foreign tenants.

Today we'll take a look at the furnishings and bathroom setup of your standard, run-of-the-mill 1K Leopalace.

But it'll probably look like this.

Furnishings
The furniture and appliances in a Leopalace are cheap. Think entry-level Ikea. Everything in my room had a nice wood-grain finish over it, but an accident several months down the line revealed that behind a lot of that pretty finish is about two slabs of plywood separated by a half-inch of air. When I had to buy my own appliances later, I recognized the models from my time at Leopalace: They are the cheapest models sold by the big-name manufacturers. Expect to be stuck with the entry-level bachelor pad 20,000 yen refrigerator from Mitsubishi, a 14-inch (but flatscreen!) television, and the one-wash-setting 20,000 yen laundry machine from Panasonic. If anything breaks down though, Leopalace is obligated to send someone out to fix and/or replace them for you.

The floors, for me, were hardwood. It was nice, but I've always preferred carpet, and I found out really quickly that dropping anything hard on wooden floors marks them all up. So, I measured my floorspace, then went to my local department store to buy a rug large enough to fill the entire bedroom. For me: Perfect!

The table I had was a hinged thing attached to one of the walls in the bedroom. You could use the hinge to collapse it against the wall, which might be nice if you purchase your own table to use in there. Otherwise, the table will probably stay extended at all times. It's big enough to have a light dinner with a visitor, and the 1K apartments come with two chairs. That table represents about half of the precious flat, waist-high surface area in your apartment, and it was a bit of a chore to always have to rotate that space between a computer, pen and paper, books, and dishes, relegating the other concurrently-unused items to the floor, bed, or sink. Buying another small folding table or a wire shelf on rolling wheels will give you extra space to keep your stuff on.

I heard one website describe making coffee in the Leopalace kitchen on a difficulty level akin to skirmishes in the Middle East... or something like that. Mine was small, but I got over it. I bought some wire racks to place above the stove, giving me some much-needed shelf space. That's really the main problem with the kitchen--the entire counterspace is consumed by the sink and stovetop, so you don't have anywhere to put things down like ingredients, a cutting board, or the bowl you want to put your now-cooked food into. Finding some creative solutions, like shelves that support themselves with spring loaded legs pushing against the walls of your little kitchen-alcove, will greatly ease your life in a Leopalace kitchen. By the end of my stay, I thought I was almost going to miss it. (But... I don't. Nothing beats having proper counter space.)

Bathroom
Leopalace offers apartments that have a separate bathroom and toilet. However, I don't think this is always the case. If that matters to you, you'll want to check that point thoroughly. I do have the experience of living in another apartment where the bath and toilet come packed together, so I can tell you what that's like: It's a setup called "unit bath" in Japan, often also found in hotels, and it's usually a slightly elevated, box-like room in which you have a bathtub just large enough for someone to stand in and take one step forwards or backwards (or sit in by hugging your arms around knees bent up to your chin) on the right-hand side, and a simple Western-style toilet on the left-hand side. In between them is a sink. A lever on the sink allows you to route running water through the faucet (which is also used to fill the bathtub) and a shower with a flexible rubber hose. If I remembered to close the lid of the toilet before showering, I found it to be a livable arrangement. (If you don't close the lid, the toilet seat is freckled with water droplets.) I like to dry myself off, particularly my feet, inside the shower room so that I don't get wet footprints in the rest of the apartment or leave the shower rug drenched (and eventually moldy). The true "unit bath" setup sucks for this, because there's not a lot of space to stand and towel yourself off between the bathtub and the toilet.

In Leopalace apartments that don't have the toilet and bathtub together, the bath is usually in a partial "unit bath" arrangement. That is to say, your bathtub and shower are still inside the same kind of elevated, hermetically sealed box-room, there's just no toilet on the right-hand side taking up space. This leaves half of the room empty and available for you to buy a Japanese-style bath seat and an oke to pour water on yourself.

By the way, the floors inside these rooms (even the ones with a toilet attached) are plastic and have drains, so you can take a shower standing inside or outside of the bathtub, although in the toilet-included variety it's much easier to stand in it.

Whew! That was a fair amount to move through. In the comments below, let us know of your own experiences in Leopalaces and any questions you have about living in one. Check out next week's article for details on Leopalace's included Internet connection service.

Living in a Leopalace Apartment

My last apartment in Japan was a Leopalace. These are becoming a more common setup for ALTs in Japan, and many people seem to be curious about what the buildings and facilities are like. Although I'm sure my experience won't be representative of every Leopalace in Japan, I'll be sharing some of my memories of the place in this brief set of articles.

To begin with, I'll address my personal experiences with and opinions on noise, insulation, price, and guarantors.




Noise
In my building, the walls weren't thick enough to block out very noisy neighbors, but neither were they paper thin. I could have a friend over and talk in a normal voice or Skype home and not appear to bother other people in the building. However, I did have a neighbor who came home at 1 or 2 am rather frequently and was either on the phone or bringing a boyfriend in tow. Against the otherwise completely silent backdrop of rural Japan, I could hear their vocal rumblings through my walls well enough to be woken up a few times, although never clearly enough to understand any words being said.

Insulation

The tiny "1K" (that means: bedroom + kitchen-in-the-entryway) Leopalace setup, which is the most common type--although I've also seen 3-room family setups, is pretty good in terms of insulation. The door to the outside world is usually made of metal, which lets in all the cold during wintertime, but between that door and your bedroom should be another wooden door. When that bedroom door is closed, you'll have a nice, cozy living space. Running a computer and just sitting emanating heat from your body is enough to carry these tiny rooms through cooler months, and in anything more extreme than that, turning on the heater or air conditioner brings about almost immediate results.

Price
I was able to get used to living in my place easily, and I think that's the most important quality of an apartment. However, I've gotta say that the pricing on Leopalace apartments is steep. The building I stayed in was new and in exceptionally good condition, but even so, other 1K apartments in my backwoods area were running for 10,000 to 20,000 less per month. Of course apartments rented on a monthly-basis (instead of with annual contracts) are generally a bit more pricey, but I think another part of Leopalace's pricing rationale is that you're paying for the amenities inside the room--rented furniture, appliances, and a provided Internet connection.

Guarantors
A big draw of Leopalace for foreign tenants is that they do not, in principle, require you to have a traditional Japanese-style guarantor to move into one of their facilities. In my case, the apartment had been arranged through work. However, later, when I wanted to arrange for my own private parking space, it was easy for me to walk in to the local Leopalace agency and sign up for one without a guarantor present. (They did ask for me to provide contact information for my closest relative in my home country, however.) And don't think that's because it was "just a parking space." It's true of apartments as well. (I sure as hell needed a traditional Japanese-style guarantor to get my next parking space, by the way.)

Over the next couple of weeks, we'll continue this series with detailed articles on furnishings and Internet connections in Leopalace apartments. Be sure to check them out. We as always welcome comments, and particularly would like to hear from readers who have experience living in Leopalaces. What is/was it like? Is the description here accurate? Any DIY tips on how to make the most of the cookie-cutter floorplans?

Save on Apartment Rent and Deposits

So, we talked a bit about the kinds of fees that factor into the property deposit on a new apartment in Japan. The general conclusion is that it is easy to burn through a lot of money setting yourself up. Here, we introduce some tips to help you save a few of those ichi-man yen notes from the fire.

As we alluded in our last article, one of the first places to start looking to save money is the agent fee, the chuukai tesuuryou (仲介手数料). The trick here is to shop around with agencies until you find one running a sale campaign.

Often, agencies will quietly offer deals like 50% off the 仲介手数料 for everyone or elimination of the 仲介手数料 if you meet a certain demographic, like students or females or young professionals. The campaigns aren't necessarily by company but by shop, so the downtown branch of a company may give you a better deal than the suburb branch of the same company. You won't find out about these campaigns unless you contact shops directly or drive past them and look for campaign signs on the windows.

Once you have found one shop that will offer you a campaign discount, you can use it as leverage to get other shops to give you the same discount. When I looked for an apartment, I found out about a 50% campaign at one local shop, then mentioned the campaign to other shops I visited. I just asked if they would be willing to match the price, and in most cases received very prompt, positive responses.

If you have time (and really, you should give yourself a lot of time for apartment searching), take it slow. Stretch out negotiations over a couple days, even if you've identified the building you like. Ask the agency, a couple times if necessary, "Can't you talk to the landlord again?" "Don't you think you could make this a little cheaper?" "Wouldn't it be possible to cut the shikikin out in exchange for 3,000 yen more per month?" (This last one is a deal I often read in ads, and it is sometimes negotiable even if it is not listed in an ad.)

If your heart is set on a specific building, run its address through Google or search for it on competitors' sites. Properties are usually cross-listed across multiple sites. The landlord just wants it rented, he's not exclusive to Apamanshop or Minimini or whoever else. You shouldn't be exclusive either. Make sure your agent is offering you the best price of the ones listed by different agencies online. One agency may have marked the rent up differently than another. Or, the landlord may have listed it with different shikikin or reikin requirements on different sites.

As soon as you find a better price, call your real estate agent. Keep on top of him (or her)! Even if you have to pester him. Remember, his job is to find you a good apartment. (And he will make bank if you sign on something.) Make it his job to get you the best price on the property, too! Whatever you agree on now will be with you for months or years to come.

Finally, when you sit down at the negotiating table, the agent may talk about other fees that I haven't covered here or in the other guides. Be wary and ask questions about each one. I have been offered things like the "Anshin Life Plan," which was a 30,000 biannual investment claiming to insure me if I lost my key or had a backed up sink. On closer inspection, turns out the "Anshin Life Plan" only covers the cost of someone coming out to the apartment and opening the door or unclogging the leak, and the renter still ends up footing a key replacement or cleanup bill. I was initially told the plan was mandatory for my apartment, but when I expressed doubt about the coverage, the agent made a ten second phone call and came back to pronounce, "We can take it off."

More Navigating of Property Deposits

Several months ago, we outlined some of the major points of the monetary deposits you'll be likely to make when you rent an apartment in Japan. After some more first-hand experience on the matter, we have some more details to add, and in the next post, we'll share some money-saving strategies to use in your apartment hunt.

Furthering the discussion of shikikin (敷金) and reikin (礼金), which we covered in our last article, note that landlords tend to trend their shikikin and reikin habits in different regions and neighborhoods. For example, in one neighborhood, it may be thought standard for an apartment to carry 3 months' shikikin and 1 month's reikin. In another neighborhood just across the city, most properties might carry 1 months' shikikin and 1 month's reikin.

It certainly doesn't mean there aren't exceptions to this rule, and you may run across a no-shikikin, no-reikin property right beside a 3-months', 3-months' monster. It's just worth considering how certain regions or neighborhoods seem to run in trends.

Outside of shikikin and reikin, there are a bunch of other fees that factor in to the final property deposit. You will probably be asked to pay chuukai tesuuryou (仲介手数料). This is a cut of money given to the real estate agent for showing you around, processing paperwork, and contacting the building owner on your behalf. Even if you find the apartment online yourself and just contact the agent to make a purchase, you will be charged this amount.

Each agency has its own 仲介手数料 policy. For some, it is a flat rate for every contract. Minimini charges, I hear, 40,000 yen no matter what property you decide on. Apamanshop is said to be more expensive, around 70,000 yen. For other agencies, 仲介手数料 is based on your monthly rent. For example, if your apartment will be 55,000 yen per month, the 仲介手数料 will be 55,000 yen. (And often, the agent will ask you to pay tax on that amount to boot.)

However, you have more bargaining power here than an agent will let on--check out our next article for money-saving tips.

Anyway, after that, you'll be charged for fire insurance, or kasai hoken (火災保険). This is often mandated by the municipality in which you live and unavoidable. It is a yearly charge running around, in my experience, the 10,000 yen mark in big cities.

Next, recently landlords require renters to have guarantor company insurance, hoshou gaisha hoken (保証会社保険). I had heard of guarantor companies before, in the sense that they are available for people who cannot provide a guarantor (i.e., a financially established Japanese citizen) when they look at apartments.

However, this hoshou gaisha hoken is different. Even after you provide a legitimate guarantor, landlords are asking for you to buy insurance just in case you default on your rent payments. In essence, you are paying a company to follow up on you if you don't pay your rent on time. (Ridiculous.)

If your agent has personal connections with the landlord, it is possible he can ask for this insurance to be waived. But, I was told in my search that some 80 to 90% of rental properties have over the last couple years begun requiring this guarantor company insurance.

Anyway, the hoshou gaisha hoken cost depends on which insurance agency is used. Some of them charge a lump sum on signup and no additional payments later, and others charge annually. The price is based on your rent. In examples I saw, a 50,000 yen per month apartment cost 20,000 yen the first year and 10,000 yen each subsequent year to insure. It scaled to 30,000 yen the first year (and 10,000 yen each subsequent year) on an apartment that cost 60,000 yen per month.

Finally, on your upfront costs the landlord is going to ask you to pay through the first full month's rent in advance. This means that if you start renting an apartment for a portion of a month (with a move-in date of, say, January 15), the agent will ask you to send the rent for January 16-31 as well as all of February's rent at the time of contract.

All in all, when playing the new apartment game, you may want as much as six months' worth of the monthly rent available, on-hand in order to meet the down payment on your apartment. Yes, I understand what an astronomical figure this is. Older apartments and apartments in less pristine condition will require less set-up money because of lower monthly rent and smaller shikikin and reikin deposits. And, as our next article shows, it may be possible to sneak out of some of that obnoxious chuukai tesuuryou money.

After you have hammered out the initial payment, read the contract carefully for other fees. Sometimes a landlord will request a "renewal fee" in which you have to pay some 10,000 yen to "renew" your apartment contract each year. Sometimes the renter will get pegged with the cost of changing locks on the apartment building when they leave. There are lots of ways to hide additional fees, and you need to check the contract carefully to know what you're getting in to.

Some alternatives to this kind of set-up money are monthly apartment companies like Leopalace. However, be very careful about contracts for monthly apartments. Often they will draw renters in with promises of "no shikikin" only to charge you a "cleaning fee" when you move out of the apartment: You end up paying shikikin, you just pay it at the end of your rental period and under a different name.

If you have any comments or experiences to share, please leave them in the comments below. I hope this article was helpful, and keep an eye out for next week's post on saving money in the apartment search game.

Buying a House in Japan: Foreclosed Properties 裁判競売

You may know that it's possible to buy foreclosed properties. That is, property seized from the owner due to non-payment of the mortgage etc.

You can do this in Japan, too (called saibankeibai 裁判競売). Two websites which lists such opportunities are foreclosedjapan.com (English) and bit.sikkou.jp (Japanese).

If you're looking to buy a house in Japan then this is a great alternative to the regular method.

You can see a vast catalogue of houses, condos, commercial properties etc. I even found several very close to my little place in the obscurity of the Nagano mountains.

The prices are incredibly low. A small shop with living quarters upstairs on the main street of my town went for 1.6m yen (currently about 12k GBP/19k USD). It's now a really nice, and popular, yakitori place. I've also seen huge, sometimes lovely houses go for only three or four times that.

Condos seem to come with the potential of excess debt which you will be responsible for paying. Apparently that is not so common for houses.

NB: Those in the big cities are often snapped up by agencies/companies set up specifically for this kind of thing, but outside of the heavily populated areas are some real bargain to be found. Check foreclosed Japan's completed listings for more examples.

You do not need to be a Japanese citizen, or even resident, to bid on and purchase foreclosed property.

The process and charges were explained to me by the PR man at Foreclosed Japan:

The process:

Once you have located a potentially suitable property we
can provide you with further details on that property once you have signed
and returned our non-circumvent/non-disclosure agreement.

Review the property details and ask any questions you may have.

If you wish to place a bid, we will then provide you with further info in
order for you to determine an appropriate bid amount.

The court requires a deposit to be made, generally 20% of the minimum bid
amount, in order to submit a bid for the property.

If your bid is unsuccessful, the court will then return the funds in full
(within about one week of tender opening) and our fees are zero.
Please note that you will be responsible for all bank transfer fees
and any fluctuations in currency exchange rates.

If your bid is successful, you will have about one month to pay the
balance due.


Total acquisition cost:

The AIE auction service fee is 6% of the actual bid amount plus debt, with a minimum charge of 630,000 yen (600,000 yen plus 5% consumption tax).
Additional closing costs are estimated at 6% to 8% of total, but can vary widely depending on the property and the discount achieved.

The above usually covers all closing costs - acquisition/registration taxes
and costs, our fees, and administrative charges.

Insurance, property management, and renovations will be extra, if required.

In regard to debt, you would be made aware of the full amount before
placing any bid. This usually only comes into play with condos, though
does come up from time to time with other property classes.

Also, note that we require a couple of days before bid deadline for the
bid paperwork and submission.

The catch

It seems too good to be true, doesn't it? Well sometimes you may run into problems. Real Estate Japan claims that the buying process can be long and drawn out. Occasionally you will be responsible for excess charges such as returning the deposits paid by current renters of the property (who you may also need to evict - this is what takes the time; sometimes up to six months). It is also not possible to inspect the inside of a foreclosed property if tenant are still in situ, so you have to rely on potentially outdated images of the interior (if available).

In summary, you must be thorough with your search, checking every detail of the property and what responsibilities will fall on you as the owner. If you do all that and the deal still looks good, then go for it! Many people do, and find great homes or make good money in development.


If you have any experience with this, please let us know in the comments.

Accommodation: Budget Hotels

Budget accommodation options aren't limited merely to Youth Hostels, sleeping in Internet cafes, sleeping on a stranger's sofa, squeezing into a capsule hotel or finding a love hotel. You can also find yourself a decent bed for the night at some of Japan's budget hotels.

The price can be very reasonable, as can the quality if you pick carefully. Here's a guide to finding good deals.

The thing about a lot of cheap hotels, often referred to as "business hotels" is that they can often be dirty, stink of smoke and be in a poor location. If you're looking for the cheapest option then you may well come across this on a regular basis.

However, there are some low-budget hotel chains that pride themselves on not fitting that stereotype. One company which I've stayed with a couple of time is Toyoko-Inn (English website, though the staff at the hotel may not speak any).

Toyoko has very nice quality, although sometimes small, rooms in business districts all over Japan. The price for a twin or double room is usually at the lower end of 6,000-9,000 yen. Don't expect any stunning views, but I would heartily recommend staying with them. Book ahead.

A one-time 1,500 yen charge will get you a members card entitling you to 30% off future stays.

One last great thing about Toyoko-Inn is that they usually have beer vending machines which have the cheapest prices you will find in Japan! 

Another good chain is the reassuringly-familiar name of Holiday Inn. They have affiliates in many Japanese cities, but prices can get quite high. Expect to pay around 10,000 yen if you're lucky. Prices start from 7,000 in some places, but in others the minimum will be way out of your budget (22,000+).

Sunroute will also sell you a bed for the night for under or around 10,000 yen in many big cities or major locations.

Another option is a booking company, which will scour the net for the cheapest rooms in a given location. They often return some great deals. There are loads of these companies, and I've had good results using hostelworld.com (searching for just hotels), and Agoda. Agoda gave me an excellent price, and there were no problems. However, the company often gets bad reviews based on their cancellation policy (they have been known to not return any of your payment if you cancel), so tread carefully.

There are literally hundreds of other booking companies, including international entries on Expedia and Hotels.com. A quick search on google for your location will throw up a whole list of them. If you don't mind working your way through some Japanese, Jalan.net is another fantastic site to search for cheap hotel deals in the country.


Know of any other good chains or websites? Let us know in the comments.

Other posts in this series:

• Love Hotels
• Sleeping in Internet Cafes
• Capsule Hotels
• Youth Hostels
• Couch Surfing

Why Are Japanese Houses SO COLD?

I feel your pain. It was -1C in my room this morning, with ice on the inside of the windows.

After writing about how to warm up your house in these cold winter months, I realised that perhaps we should cover exactly why the Japanese house is such a freezing nightmare.

Here's your answer: they aren't insulated.

The reason for that is quite interesting, I guess:

As you will know if you've ever been to a traditional Japanese house, the old-time heating method was a simple fire in the middle of the room where the cooking was also done. In more recent times the primary method has become kerosene electric-heaters. The problem with both of these techniques is and was that potentially poisonous fumes are released (though of course much less significantly with modern stoves).

The architectural solution to this (and simultaneously the humidity of summer) was a house design which drew air up from under the house and deposited it (and the acquired heat and bad air) outside. That's why there's a cavern of unused space under the floor in most houses. In olden times there was a large vent in the (very high) ceiling, whereas more recently we can see smaller vents above doors, hollow walls and a massive mysterious tanuki den of unused space in the roof.

The freezing house this (and the single-pane glass doors everywhere) produces is one of the reasons why Japanese families traditionally shared one tiny room. The small space is easier to make and keep warm + sharing body heat = almost adequate standard of winter living (?).

As I already mentioned I wrote about some solutions to this lack of insulation, but now I'm coming round to the idea of just spending the winter evenings in an izakaya or an onsen. Or if you have a heated toilet seat, like more than 50% of people here do (but not me), maybe you should just spend winter sitting on that with a cup ramen for company. You could even move it to your sofa instead of those hideous electric blankets.

Why the more modern houses and apartments still have this design and lack the central heating and double-glazing which the rest of the world has heartily embraced is something of a mystery. For me the kotatsu doesn't cut the mustard as a solution, and I don't particularly want to spend my winter days dressed in a muu-muu. I'm tempted to move to Hokkaido just for the possibilty of proper insulation.

So how do you stay warm in the winter? I'm getting sick of the ying-yang of being punched in the face by kerosene-scented air then doused in a magic moist breeze blowing through the window panes. Let me know in the comments.

More

• Here's an interesting interview with a Japanese architect.

Insulating a Japanese House for the Winter

For the most part, the Japanese still haven't discovered either central heating or double-glazed windows (another example of low-tech Japan). Not only that, but old Japanese houses are actually designed to be cold. Kerosene heaters and kotatsu are the obvious ways to heat up your home, but if your house is anything like ours, you'll need to do some extra work to keep that heat in.

Read on for hints on tape, bubble-wrap and various other solutions designed to stop you resorting to buying one of those monk-outfit/blanket/muu-muu things with arms.

The horrible relentless cold has just started to peek ferociously around our shouji screens this year, after a brilliantly long and hot summer. Our house is very old and has very thin walls. It also seems to suck cold air in through all the cupboards. Time for some preventative measures.

•  Bubble-wrap



My toilet windows, minus curtain.

• Possibly the most effective solution.
  Shouji screens do act as a primitive form of insulation to the heat-sapping windows prevalent in most Japanese places, but it's much more effective to give the windows themselves another layer. The Japanese way of doing this is with bubble-wrap. There's nothing special about it (unless you buy the fancy designs); it's just bubble-wrap (in fact, buying a roll of industrial-issue stuff would be much cheaper than getting the purpose-packaged stuff in housing stores). Stick it on the whole window/door and that alone will make a huge difference to the room temperature. Instead of radiating cold like an open fridge, your frosty windows will now be tamed and ready for action. Take that Japanese tendency to make 1/4 of the walls of a house out of single-pane glass!
  
  
• Heat-applied insulation sheets
• Usually found next to the bubble-wrap in home-stores, and advertised to be the most effective insulation idea ever, is some kind of plastic sheet which can be melted to your doors (as an alternative to bubble-wrap). The picture on the tube shows a hair-dryer, though I think an iron would be more fun. See the picture below for full details of your options.

These are the various things presented at my local hardware store. From left to right we have: 

• Condensation Stopper Sheet, attach with water
• Clear Window Glass Thermal Insulation Sheet, attach with water
• Window Glass Heat Generation Sheet, attach with water
• Window Glass Condensation Stopper Sheet, attach with water
• Window Glass Clear Thermal Insulation Film, attach with heat

The star ratings indicate how efficient they are at:

• Transparency  
• Effectiveness of Heat Insulation
• Condensation Deterrence 

• Tape

• A good idea is to add another layer to the anti-hero all-powerful metal window-frames that give off cold like it's going out of fashion. Bubble-wrap won't work here, so the Japanese sell a special kind of tape (although I'm sure a regular packing tape would probably work too) with which you can cover all the metal surfaces. This does make a difference, although it's not the prettiest thing in the world.
  
  
•  More tape

• After that, you'll want to ensure you have a good seal around all of your windows. Our house is wonky thanks to generations of earthquakes, and this is especially important for us. Don't think that just because your apartment or house is new that you'll escape this one, however. Even our old (modern) apartment had places where outside was clearly visible through gaps between the doors. Again, the solution is tape. You can buy a slightly padded roll for a couple of hundred yen which will stick across/between the joins in your doors/windows.
  
  
• Block up those vents
• I don't know if it's universal anymore, but in the dark-ages when our house was built it came complete with vents to the outside world (presumably to help circulate air in the summer). Being holes to outside, these are cold. The hundred-yen store is your friend for this one - the bigger stores, like Daiso etc, often have a DIY section. There you can either find pieces of wood or plastic which you can use in place of the vent (with some modification). Just take the grill out of the wall, stuff some newspaper in there and then screw the new article in place (some sealant or rubber is an optional bonus). It helps.

  
  
  

  Before

  
  

  

  After

  
  
• Draft excluders

• They look stupid, but these things are designed to stop the draft from around the bottom of your windows and doors. It seems like there should be a better way than this - I'd go with the tape first, and this as a last resort.
  
  
• Condensation absorbers

• Quite a good idea to stop your tatami/door frame from getting damp and rotten. Place them at the bottom of the glass to catch the drips. Removable.
  
  

Still less revolutionary options of making your Japanese house warmer involve curtains (if you can brace yourself against Japan's exorbitant prices), and finding some kind of hippy wall-hanging to dangle in-front of your cupboards. Also: yakiniku/nabe in the living room anyone?

JapanProbe has a video of a batty old woman who has fearlessly covered the inside of her house in rags and old futons to keep out the cold. Well, she's in Hokkaido, so desperate times call for such measures... I guess.

Well, that's all we've got. If you have any bright ideas or success stories, please let us know in the comments.

Accommodation: Capsule Hotels

If a Love Hotel seems too lonely, Couch Surfing too scary, Youth Hostels are full of roudy youths and an Internet Cafe too sleazy, why not opt for a capsule?

People bang on about capsule hotels being a Japanese revolution of quirkiness and efficiency. To be honest they're just a crappy version of a bunkbed, but they can be handy when you need a cheap place to stay in the business district.

Beware: Height Resitrictions.


カプセルホテル(capuseru hoteru) are pretty common in the bigger cities, and are almost always catered towards business workers who are too drunk to get home or working too late for trains. They will sometimes have a 24 hour onsen as part of the fee, and will almost always have alcohol, cigarette and food vending machines. They're easy to spot by generally having photos of capsules outside in the same way that internet cafes have pictures of the "beds" they offer.

Their reputation for being quirky is not really deserved. Apart from the concept of sleeping in front-loading bunkbeds there's not really anything new here, except that the capsules are usually made of plastic and have a TV, radio and alarm-clock fitted inside. Invariably the TV will have several porn channels, and if you're lucky (like I have been) you can hear other customers enjoying theirs throughout the night.

Those with claustrophobia issues needn't worry unless it's very severe, as there's usually enough room to sort-of sit-up inside. The standard size is 1 metre x 1 metre x 2 metres. This can be a probelm for taller people, however. I'm 6'4" and have a problem with the privacy shutters on some capsules which you pull down in front of the entrance, and closing this means that I can't lie completely flat comfortably and have to do a feotus impression all night (or leave the shutter partly open).


Prices

• These will vary from 2,500 to 4,500yen depending on the location and amenities. Many places in the business districts will offer a point system or pre-paid option (pay for nine nights and get the tenth free). Booking ahead is not usually necessary.

More

• Women are not usually allowed in business capsules, but the more tourist-orientated ones will usually have a women's room, or mixed section at the very least.
• Some capsule hotels offer rooms of four+ capsules for private hire. Capsule Inn Akihabara is an example of this.
• In Akebonobashi (Shinjuku) there is a gaijin-targeted capsule hotel with larger-sized wooden units (~3,500yen). It gets very hot and can be pretty noisy in the mornings, however. They also offer budget beds (although you must request them specifically) for around 2000yen.
• In Kyoto there is a place called Kyoto Ryoukan Capsule, which is a curious cross between a traditional Japanese hotel and a capsule place (3,500yen). The capsules have tatami floors and futons, and the place has a traditional setup. There are also standard ryoukan rooms.

Other posts in this series:

• Love Hotels
• Sleeping in Internet Cafes
• Capsule Hotels
• Youth Hostels
• Couch Surfing
• Budget Hotels

Accommodation: Couch Surfing

If you are on a very tight budget and can't afford the other budget accommodation options (Love Hotels, Capsule Hotels, sleeping in Internet Cafes and Youth Hostels) or just looking to meet new people then you may want to consider Couch Surfing.

CS is a project where people around the world list themselves as free places to stay for visitors. Through the site you can contact them and see if it's alright for you to visit on specific dates and stay for X amount of time.

There are loads of people in Japan offering this. 1200+ in Tokyo alone.

A few good friends of ours tried CS across Japan. They had mixed things to say. The first guy they stayed with was an American ex-pat who treated them like family. He showed them the sites of Tokyo like it was his job, paid for meals out etc. Sounds great. The second person, however, was so bad that they left almost immediately and stayed the night in an internet cafe instead. Apparently she had a couple of dogs who lived in awful conditions and were kicked around the house. The place stank, too. Well, that's a 50/50 result. Better than the odds at Pachinko. People have usually been rated by other users, so I'd check that first.

I haven't tried it, so I can't give you my opinion, but if you have the guts to stay with a complete stranger then Japan is surely one of the safest places to do so. Incidentally, you can also meet people on the site just for a cup of coffee and tourism advice.

If you do or have tried it, let us know about your experience in the comments box below.

Other posts in this series:

• Love Hotels
• Sleeping in Internet Cafes
• Capsule Hotels
• Youth Hostels
• Couch Surfing
• Budget Hotels

Property Deposits

Japanese landlords are infamous for requiring huge amounts of deposit money in the form of 敷金 (shikikin) and 礼金 (reikin). Plenty of posts have been written about this on the web, but here is a run-down in case you aren't familiar with real estate deposit practices in Japan:

Shikikin (敷金) is like a Western-style deposit: You pay money up-front, usually calculated based on the monthly rent of the apartment. "No deposit" apartments are becoming more popular, but 1 or 2 months' worth of shikikin is still standard as a downpayment, and for prime real estate it is possible an agent will ask for 6 months' of rent or more as shikikin. In theory, you get this money back when you move out of the apartment, minus the cost of damages incurred during your stay. However, stingy landlords are very good at finding damage where none exists. It is safer to assume you will not be getting your shikikin back at the end of your stay; if any money does make it back to you, you'll then be pleasantly surprised.

Shikikin is also sometimes called 保証金 (hoshoukin), which is closer to the Western term "deposit."

Reikin (礼金) is sometimes called "key money," but this term can be misleading. Reikin is, ultimately, just a gift to the agent for introducing you to and setting you up in the apartment. It usually equates to about 1 or 2 months' rent. But, again, it's becoming popular for agents to advertise "No reikin" properties in order to draw in more customers. Reikin is never refundable.

On top of shikikin and reikin, it is likely you'll also be asked to pay chuukai tesuuryou (仲介手数料), fire insurance (火災保険), and guarantor insurance (保証会社保険料), which we've explained details of in another article.

Related:
Housing Guide