How to navigate restaurants, counter seating and standing bars as a solo traveller

Solo travel is my guilty pleasure. I love traveling with my partner, my friends, and sometimes my mom, but there is something so liberating about traveling alone. I can be selfish or lazy and there is no one to save me from the mistakes I happily make.

But if there’s one part of the solo travel experience that I struggle with, it’s eating alone. I’ve been to countries many times where people eating alone are treated like something to be thrown aside. I’ll take in the gorgeous view of the bathroom while waiting for a meal designed to be eaten “family style” before consuming 10,000 pieces of eggplant while everyone around me acts like I don’t exist.

Japan is the exception. In Japan, I can go out to dinner without making eye contact with another person. My order starts at a ticket machine, my ramen is delivered from behind a small curtain, and I eat it in a partitioned “delicacy collection booth” which is the most Japanese thing I’ve ever heard.

Although this sounds dystopian, it is a reflection of the “ohitorisama” culture, where there is no shame at the table for one.

ohitorisama

Ohitorisama is a polite way of saying “a person” that uses honorifics to transform someone from the loneliest number to something worth celebrating. Historically, the word was used by waiters to greet lonely guests, but it has since become a sort of cultural movement that allows people to enjoy themselves without feeling the need to validate their experiences with others.

I’ll say “hitori” (a person without an honorific title) to let the staff know I’m dining alone, and they’ll pick me up and direct me to the restaurant, where I’ll try to get the best seat in the house.

Kaunta-seki

Kaunta-seki (counter seating) is huge in Japan. Most restaurants have counters where you can sit, eat and watch the chefs prepare the best meal of your life. I love how these seats make you feel like you’ve been invited to the party, rather than just looking out the window, and how you can rub shoulders with the locals on what feels like a regular Tuesday night.

I will always ask to sit opposite, which simply means “kaunta-seki?” It can be done as simply as saying: with an upward twist. The prevalence of these counter seats at kaiseki and omakase restaurants also makes treating yourself to a fancy meal a lot less awkward.

tashinomiya

If sitting isn’t your style, you can always find a bar where you can stand. These bars are perfect for making friends, because it’s hard not to interact with the people around you when you’re drinking in a bar the size of a broom closet.

The drinks are good, the conversations on Google Translate are oddly entertaining, but my favorite thing about this place is the tiny dishes known as otsumami (bar snacks). None of this “the menu here is not designed for sharing” nonsense. It’s pure, selfish indulgence where you can taste exactly what you want and put the “me” back into your food.