I spent a night in a capsule hotel in Japan. It was cheap, but it was also some of the worst sleep I had on my 14-day trip.
- Capsule hotels originated in Japan, so I insisted on staying in one on my first trip to the country.
- The capsule I slept in was small but also affordable.
- I'd likely pay a bit more for a hotel next time, but I don't regret trying out the unusual experience.
Capsule hotels fascinate me. As a traveler, they combine both my biggest desires and largest fears.
First, they're cheap. They typically cost the same as a hostel, but they offer the privacy most hostels lack.
However, I also think capsule hotels have an eerie resemblance to coffins. The idea of being claustrophobic in a tiny rectangular box is something from my nightmares.
Unfortunately, my budget (or lack of one) wins, and if I were ever going to sleep in a capsule hotel, Japan would be the place.
It's no surprise capsule hotels were developed in a business-focused country like Japan. According to Condé Nast Traveler, capsule hotels launched in the late 1970s to offer businessmen a place to rest after a day of work and a night of drinking.
Source: Condé Nast Traveler
Slowly, capsule hotels began to target populations beyond salarymen. The hotels turned to tourists, who were searching for affordable places to sleep in popular cities and neighborhoods.
The concept continued to expand, and today, capsule hotels exist around the world. I've even braved some of the lowest-rated ones in cities like Sydney, Australia.
I wanted to have a true capsule experience while visiting Japan. So on my first night of a 14-day trip, I checked into Cocts Akihabara, a capsule hotel in Taito, Tokyo.
Read more: I visited Japan and fell in love with the country's bathrooms
My capsule cost $82 for one night, and breakfast was included in the price.
I arrived at Cocts Akihabara and it immediately felt like stepping inside a hostel. On one half of the first floor, there was a lounge and restaurant.
Read more: I visited Japan and fell in love with the country's bathrooms
The second half of the capsule hotel was home to the check-in desk.
I also spotted a communal kitchen on the first floor with appliances and cookware guests could use.
Read more: I visited Japan and fell in love with the country's bathrooms
At the check-in desk, I filled out some paperwork and was told my capsule would be number three on the fourth floor.
There were no room keys — just codes to unlock the door to my shared room. I headed upstairs, where I found my door.
I plugged in the code, opened the door, and revealed a room with 14 capsules.
A mix of emotions flooded in. The capsules were bigger than I expected, but I was concerned that 13 other people might be sleeping in the same space that night.
I feared the others around me would be snoring, coughing, sleep-talking, watching TV, or listening to music. More importantly, I feared I wouldn't get any sleep.
I took a deep breath and walked over to my capsule, where I discovered a pull-down curtain to create a level of privacy. I doubted it would offer any soundproofing, though.
Inside the all-white room was clean bedding, a pair of earplugs, two outlets, and a light switch.
The room also had a small curtain rod for clothes.
The rest of the room was bare. The comforter was soft, but the pillow was firmer than I'm used to.
I used a small ladder to climb up into my bed, which brought back memories of the bunk bed from my childhood. The climb was easy, although I'm not sure it's something I'd want to do every night and morning.
According to my phone's measuring app, the room was about 3.5 feet by 7 feet. Luckily, I could stretch all the way out, but I couldn't help but feel cramped in the small space.
My capsule itself didn't have any locks, so I stored my luggage in a nearby locker.
A shared bathroom was located outside of my room. It was spotless, which hasn't been the case with the other hostels I've slept in.
In one corner of the bathroom was laundry.
Against another wall were toilets, with, of course, bidets.
Read more: I visited Japan and fell in love with the country's bathrooms