The Holy Trinity of Japanese culture in the eyes of outsiders may be sushi, sumo and samurai, but one unforgettable aspect of culture often unknown outside the country immediately springs to the minds of those who live here: Love Hotels, or as they are far too appropriately katakana-ized, Rub Hotels.

Any garish, neon-plated building entirely out of context with its surroundings which isn’t a pachinko parlor will invariably be a Love Hotel, (or “Fashion Hotels” as they are becoming known in an attempt to clean up their image), further identifiable by their faux-English names and their subterranean car-parks. For you innocents who have never visited, privacy is protected at all stages in the modern Love Hotel, from the little trolleys that cover your license plate, to the human-free reception areas. Simply choose your room from a board of options, follow the arrows to your boudoir, and make sure you haven’t left anything in the car, as most rooms are self-locking until you pay, (a Blade Runner-esque moment in itself, bill, cash and receipt all being exchanged by a hydraulic tube system, although some old-style places still favor the traditional method of handing over cash through a slot in a wall, or a curtained window). Prices range from lows for what is colloquially termed “rest-time”, (interestingly, usually charged by the hour in Osaka, but in three-hour blocks in Tokyo), to around ¥10,000 for an extravagant entire night of “accommodation” and weeknight prices can be cheaper than staying in a real hotel, with a far more interesting variety of TV programs. Pile four or five friends in and it is usually the cheapest way to spend a night away from home, (although some places won’t even allow two men to share a room, let alone a party; welcome to Joykill Japan!). The best part about Love Hotels (besides the obvious) is the array of rooms available, although again re-classification by the government has led to a drying up of the fantastic decors: from jungle themed rooms overlooking lakes with plastic monkeys and automated pirate ships, to Hello Kitty S&M rooms, the spice of life is provided for you, along with karaoke facilities, games consoles and two, (but only two), prophylactics. Who has time for that nonsense, when there’s karaoke and a PlayStation 2 waiting!

The cynical may see Love Hotels as the place where teachers take their students, husbands their mistresses, and wives their flings; the realistic point to the thinness of walls and the over-crowding within families’ houses to account for their numbers, (around 20,000 nationwide, with 2,000,000 visitors a day, resulting in annual earnings of four trillion yen!). Both may well be true, but either way, surely there’s good money to be made out of an old car, a carefully timed collision and a guilty conscience?…

Written by Doron Kelmer and originally appeared in The Tombo Times, April 2006.