Things I have noticed after seven weeks in Japan:

The Japanese may as well have a PhD in 'disgust management'. As expected, white masks covering nose and mouth are a common sight in Japan (though I didn't realise they are worn by the sick, to avoid spreading their own germs around). There is a hypersensitivity here that would be considered OCD in the UK. It seems to date back pretty far. Taking your shoes off indoors is an age-old custom still respected in many restaurants, homes, schools (which makes unloading our set from van to stage much like a challenge from 'The Crystal Maze').

I was prepared for a lot of kook when I arrived in Japan but I didn't expect the massive cultural contrasts in place. It's rude to blow your nose at the dinner table but it's de rigueur to slurp away to your heart's content over a bowl of steaming hot ramen. Sake induced vomit on the last tube home is a daily hazard. It's acceptable to ignore pedestrian entrance/exit signs on the underground but you will probably be told to reposition your car if it's not parked straight.

The Japanese fascination with Western culture is the most bewildering juxtaposition of all. For a country so steeped in tradition and proud of its heritage, it's difficult to account for this cultural leaning. East and West seem to abide harmoniously side by side, as oblivious to their differences as John and Yoko. Spotting an immaculately kimono-clad lady walking side by side with a Japanese Justin Beiber-wannabe is as common a sight as sushi. And don't even get me started on post-teenage girls in school uniforms.

Working as a 'sold-my-soul' sales girl in Harrods there was a popular market for skin whitening formulas, bought mainly by East Asian females in their 20's/30's. They weren't part of the money-soaked Kensington clique we were used to seeing in Harrods; these were hard-working professionals, insecure about the darkness of their skin and willing to spend their hard-earned dosh to lighten it. It is a common sight across Japan to see girls flaunting milky complexions and whitening formulas fill the shelves of every pharmacy. As soon as the sun comes out, so do the umbrellas.

Along with road-side diners, the education system and an over-whelming taste for Halloween, another Western tradition that the Japanese have gone mental for is the Christian wedding service. You can't go anywhere on the underground without running into countless advertisements for white dresses and wedding locations. This is big business. Some of the hotels we visited on our travels have built-in fake chapels to draw parties in. The most extreme example is Tokyo Bay Wedding Village. This is a newly-built complex in the capital where couples pay a mint to live out their dream wedding; there's confetti, hired Caucasian people to act as priests, Disney-style architecture to provide a traditional 'village' backdrop. I wonder if you have to pay extra for an inappropriately drunk Best Man with lager down his shirt and a sing-along circle of guests to wail 'New York New York' at the end of the night. To be honest, given the enthusiasm for karaoke in this country there's probably some sort of murderous activity of the microphone variety involved at the reception.

The tea ceremony is a hugely respected ritual in Japan and serves as quite a contrast to the 21st century face Tokyo puts out. The preparation and ritual of serving tea can take anything up to six hours (which does make the queue in Starbucks seem a little easier to manage), but shorter ceremonies these days mean that it is a tradition still in practice. As you would expect there is enormous emphasis on doing things correctly; you must take the bowl of thick, bitter matcha in both hands, turn it clockwise (to display the decoration on the front) and drink it in three slow sips (very important to feign enjoyment at this point). What interests me about this ancient ceremony is that, aside from the precise detail involved, part of the tradition is to embrace the imperfect (the Japanese aesthetic of wabi-sabi); a concept derived from Zen Buddhism. The Japanese pottery used should be rustic and flawed (i.e. with a wonky shape), reminding us to cherish the simple things in life and appreciate the beauty in the imperfect. Rather alien to Westernised ideas of beauty then… Mmm.

Well, the Japanese might be happy living among such opposites, but I'll take tea in a s***ty cup over a Chanel handbag any day.