The Sunrise Express: An ode to slow travel in Japan.
by Jonny Gleason
Exploring the Romance of Japan's Sleeper Train
Jonny Gleason is a London-based travel writer and photographer. When not traveling, you can catch him with a good book (or two).
It’s 8 pm on a wet Okayama evening, and I’m exhausted. We’ve been traveling for the past 5 hours, hopping between local trains from Fuchū in Hiroshima - a coast-clinging route that passes Tadanoumi, the port town for the infamous Okunoshima. Our dwindling yen means we’re fueled only by konbini (convenience store) hashed potato and the occasional onigiri. There’s no hotel waiting to check us in, nor do we intend to find one. We’re floating in purgatory, waiting for the Sunrise Express, Japan’s last regular sleeper train.
Since their unofficial opening on the morning of October 14th, 1872, Shinkansen, steam trains, and sleepers have trundled up and down the country, whisking salarymen, tourists, and locals toward their destination. For most visitors, the flashy allure of the 320kph bullet trains catches their eye, though for some, there’s a quiet intrigue to an almost extinct species, and the Sunrise Seto Express is just that.
Introduced on July 10th, 1998, the Sunrise Express services have shuttled passengers up and down the country for two and a half decades. They were newly designed trains designed to reduce the journey times of the preceding “Blue train” service. But with a dwindling passenger base tempted by the faster and cheaper alternatives, its future remains uncertain.
Traveling just over 800km, the Sunrise Seto and Sunrise Izumo carry passengers from Tokyo to Okayama, then split to the smallest main island of Japan—Shikoku (Home to the 88 temple pilgrimage)—and up to Izumo. We chose to get the return service from Okayama to Tokyo.
Boarding
After falling once again for Japan’s retail charm in the nearby AEON Mall, filling our bags with a makeshift ekiben (駅弁, railway bento) and senbei (煎餅, Japanese cracker), we made our way to track number 4.
Despite traveling only days before Golden Week, the station was mostly empty - apart from the crowds of people waiting on our platform. For such an abundant mode of transport, the train spotters were out in force - yet tourists were nowhere to be seen.
Just before half past 10, the Sunrise Seto pulls in, two minutes before its sister, the Sunrise Izumo. Through a volley of camera flashes, quick sprints down the platform, and bated breath, the trains connect. Our ride for this evening was ready.
When you book the Sunrise Express, you’ll be given a small ticket stub with your seat number and departure time. Most luxury rooms go quickly, but at ¥14,500, the budget-friendly nobi nobi seats hang around slightly longer. Ideally, book a month in advance.
We stepped onto the train, 60l backpacks in tow, and were met with a deafening silence. I’ve been on some of Tokyo’s busiest trains during Golden Week and rush hour—silence is rarely a running theme, though I assume tiredness was to blame this time.
We shuffled through the cabin to our bed for the night—it was more like a glorified semi-private floor, though my back and aching body thanked me nonetheless. The nobi nobi seats aren’t the epitome of Japanese comfort, but they’re the traditional way of sleeping I’ve become accustomed to in Japan and well worth experiencing if you get the chance.
Should you prefer something more private, you have a few other options at the time of booking: Single berth, Single-Twin berth, and Single Deluxe ‘rooms.’ Bear in mind that most of them are booked fast. If you’ve got your heart set on it, act as soon as the tickets go on sale, 30 days in advance.
After climbing into our lower-floor pods, the friendly-faced and softly-spoken conductor came to check our tickets. Other than an occasional glimpse of polished black shoes pacing up and down the carriage, this was the last we’d see of him.
The Nobi Nobi Seat
Its size was the first thing that struck me. Perhaps I was expecting a coffin-like outdated capsule hotel from the bubble era, but the reality was a whole lot... roomier.
At 6ft, I’m used to several Japanese building practices that don’t seem to have been written for people my height. Luckily, those designing these budget-friendly seats didn’t get the memo - I can and did comfortably sit up with ample headroom.
‘In-room’ comforts are few, but so were my cravings. Each seat came equipped with a plastic-wrapped paper cup, crisply folded white bed sheets, and a smaller sheet for a non-existent pillow. You’ll have your own light and an air conditioner - the latter of which does little against the heat of the train. There’s also no plug, so make sure to grab a Charge Spot from 7-Eleven if needed.
After arriving downstream, I quickly devoured two sticks of freshly cooked miso dango and jumped on the shuttle bus back to the station. With my stomach momentarily satisfied, I hopped on the train and made my way to Tōbu-Nikkō station.
Inside The Train
While most of the passengers were sleeping, and before any more boarded in Himeji at midnight, we took the opportunity to venture through the cabins, which were filled with hundreds of people who had chosen to take Japan’s final regular sleeper train instead of the quicker and cheaper alternatives - I continue to speculate on their reasons why, though sadly never find out.
As we passed row after row of beds, a light peeped through an open door from a private cabin - a carefully folded pile of Japanese pajamas and a pillow waiting for its passenger’s arrival lay on the bed.
The Viewing Deck
A few steps past the end of our carriage was the Viewing Deck - a handful of chairs with two windows on either side. Rest here in the evening and you’ll be treated to pockets of neon-lit cities in the distance, and the occasional blinding lights of a passing train station. Sit here early in the morning to see firsthand how Japan wakes up - if it ever slept in the first place.
The Shower And Powder Room
A crisp ¥1000 bill or a handful of coins nets you a 30-minute shower. If your journey continues further than Tokyo, it might be the best ¥1000 you’ve spent - even more than that gacha sitting at the bottom of your bag. In the powder room, a sink and a lit mirror can be used freely for your morning and evening routine.
The Sleep
Light and snapshots of life regularly flashed before my eyes between passing towns: drivers making runs to 7-Eleven, the late-night pachinko parlor patrons chasing their losses, and the Asahi-drunk Izakaya regulars who missed the last train home.
If you need pitch black to sleep, bring an eye mask. The constant glow from the hallway makes an effective nightlight, to say the least.
Hanging by my feet was an old material curtain—it failed to keep the light out and didn’t quite hang properly, but it was fine for privacy. My sheer exhaustion seemed not to care, and part of me couldn’t help but daydream about the thousands of people and stories that had occupied this seat before I had—the constant use and lives lived that contributed to this broken, sorry-looking net curtain.
Traveling through Japan is mostly a meditative experience - and surprisingly, this is one of them.
Ohayou Gozaimasu
20 minutes out from Tokyo, we passed through Yokohama, one of the first Japanese ports opened to foreign trade. Arriving at rush hour in the coziness of your train bed is an odd experience. The shuffle of boots and briefcases was all I could see and all I needed to see to relax back onto my private floor.
As we departed once more, I daydreamed about life in one of the countryside towns we passed—I think I’ll move there one day.
I could barely make out “Tokyo…” over the speaker as Sunset Road by Reiko Takahashi was playing in my earphones, and my mind was in the clouds. With only 5 minutes left before reaching Tokyo, our journey was coming to a bitter-sweet end.
The Sunrise Express train has its flaws, and if you’re expecting a budget version of the Seven Stars in Kyushu (the next train on my list), you’ll be disappointed. Yes, it’s a little rough around the edges, but it’s also romantically poetic and a travel experience like no other. You get transport and somewhere to sleep—that’s it—but that’s all you need.
It’s a doorway to Japan’s past, to a time when sleepers were a romantic way to travel. In its simplest form, The Sunrise Express is an ode to slow, purposeful travel. With its future uncertain, there’s never been a better time to ride.
Interested in exploring Japan via sleeper train? Get in touch with our team of expert consultants today to learn more about this romantic and special way to adventure through all of the country’s beauty.