It is difficult to be caught short in Tokyo. On a recent stroll through a suburban Tokyo park, I was relieved to come across a magnificent public lavatory. And then another…

My three-year-old grandson is learning to follow the rules at his Japanese kindergarten. Slowly. It has taken him a while to twig that life in Japan comes with strings attached.

We’re told not to judge a book by its cover. But my slapdash gift-wrapping at Christmas raises few expectations.

Surely this ubiquitous bite-sized titbit holds few surprises? But as with most things Japanese, there is more to it than meets the eye.

If, on a cloudless day, it suddenly starts to rain, beware. It might be a fox’s wedding. And witnesses aren’t welcome.

At formal Japanese gatherings, the last piece of sushi will languish on the plate long after its fellows have been snapped up. Everyone has their eye on it, but no one makes the move.

Once in Tokyo, on returning home from work, I found dried soya beans scattered around the threshold of our apartment.

If you’re strolling beside a river in Japan and happen to bump into a kappa, make sure you have a cucumber handy. A kappa’s favourite food. You might just escape the clutches of this malevolent water sprite.

I remember showing off my newfound skill with chopsticks by offering a titbit to my Japanese wife across the table. I expected her to take it with her chopsticks. Instead she looked at me with horror.

On any ancient pilgrimage walk in Japan, you can be sure of one constant companion along your way: the bodhishattva Jizō.