Return to Nihon & Nikon – Sleeping in a Bookshelf in Tokyo

Where Siberia ends, Japan begins. Our return to Tokyo comes at the very end of the Trans-Siberian Railway. When we set off on our month-long journey through Siberia, Japan had already been our original destination.
Our new nomadic life allowed for slow travel, so we chose the train over flying. Awaiting us at the end was familiar and beloved Japan.

We took this trip back in the fall of 2017. At the end of the Trans-Siberian Railway, we considered taking a ferry, but North Korea’s missile tests in the Sea of Japan altered our plans—especially given the concern from our loved ones. Flying was also significantly cheaper than the ferry.
So, Vladivostok was swapped for a direct flight to Tokyo.

If you prefer to read in Finnish, continue here / Jos luet mieluummin suomeksi, jatka tänne:
Paluu Tokioon, Nikoniin ja uniin kirjahyllyssä

Returning to Tokyo Streets so Familiar

Roppongi, Roppongi. The metro announcement makes me smile. That familiar earworm. I’m almost home—just one more stop at Azabu-Juban, then Akabanebashi. The station is familiar, but this time, I’m not headed to Hostel Zabutton. It was fully booked in advance, so I couldn’t show Ismo one of my former Tokyo homes.

However, in the familiar neighborhoods, we discover an intriguing new find: a hostel where you sleep on a bookshelf!

Dreams Between the Pages

Book & Bed is a hostel concept where bunk beds are built behind bookshelves – So they are more like sleeping pods, typical in Tokyo and elsewhere in Japan, not just regular hostel beds.

And yes, you can read the books on the shelves. At least in this particular hostel, the selection prominently features art books, which are easy to flip through even on a short visit.

Not only for reading—Japanese hostel dorms have always been great places for us to focus on writing projects, whereas elsewhere in the world, as homeless nomads, we’ve had to seek out rental apartments for peace and quiet.

At Book & Bed, the beds are typical Japanese hostel pods—almost like miniature studio apartments compared to European bunk beds. The best part is the privacy. The walls insulate the tiny sleeping compartments from the outside world, and the thick curtains at the entrance serve as doors to a private realm.

Technical Issues – A Camera That Travels More Than We Do

This time, staying in Tokyo had a third reason: shopping. As a minimalist, I generally avoid shopping—I put off buying even necessary items for as long as possible—but in Japan, I do buy a few specific things, like Muji notebooks and pens, external hard drives, and other small electronics. Just the kind of things modern humans seem to need every few years.

This time, the need was a bit bigger—a camera.

I had traded my workhorse Nikon for an Olympus better suited to backpacking, but the micro four-thirds camera I bought in Finland broke in less than a year.
While visiting Finland, I took the camera in for warranty repair, only to find out that repairs were physically handled in Portugal. Off it went with DHL, and I waited.

As our Siberian trip approached, there was still no sign of the camera. The distributor reassured me it would be back soon. I started getting nervous. Where would I even buy a new camera in Siberia?

The camera finally returned the day before our departure on the Trans-Siberian Railway. I breathed a sigh of relief—until I realized the body was in worse shape than when I had sent it in.

A call to the distributor resulted in a brilliant suggestion: “Just tap that button with a hammer, and it might start working.” Sure.

I asked whether I could get it repaired in Russia or Japan instead, but of course, the warranty only covered repairs in Europe. So, I packed up my unhammered camera and boarded the train.

Camera Shopping in Shinjuku

Shinjuku isn’t Tokyo’s biggest or most famous shopping district, but it still has its fair share of neon lights.

For a nomad, it doesn’t really matter where a warranty is valid or whether it even exists. You’re rarely in the country where you bought the device—especially not when it breaks.
I decided not to spend another cent on that headache-inducing camera and managed to take photos throughout Siberia with my broken device, using creative workarounds.

The first order of business upon arriving in Tokyo? To buy a new camera.
So, my return to Tokyo started with shopping.

Tokyo is a shopper’s paradise. For someone like me, who avoids malls and flashing neon lights, it’s a nightmare.
If you can handle the flashing signs, cash register chimes, and general chaos, head to the famous Akihabara, where there’s no shortage of electronic gadgets to buy.

Instead of the massive and well-known shopping district, we opted for a small store in Shinjuku specializing in used cameras.
I browsed, considered, and weighed my options. After finding a suitable camera body, I called the salesman to unlock the display door.

He then informed me that all new cameras were on sale, and I could get a brand-new one for just about a hundred euros more than the used model.
So, I didn’t just return to Nihon—I also returned to Nikon.

A professional model was out of my budget, but the D750 would do for now. With my treasure trove happily tucked under my arm, we headed off to dinner.

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The Book & Bed Hostel mentioned here isn’t unfortunately operating anymore, but they do have another in Shinjuku.
Check that and other affordable Tokyo hostels here: Where to stay in Tokyo on a budget.

Find more cheap inns & unique hostel pods in Tokyo

Where to stay in Tokyo on a budget