"You have to visit a cat cafe," said absolutely everyone ahead of my recent trip to Japan. And with good reason - Japan is the world's cat cafe capital. Tokyo alone is home to more than 50 such places, offering drinks and playtime with adorable felines, and locals and tourists alike are wild about them.
So massive is the phenomenon, it's spawned a whole host of other animal cafes, from owl and rabbit to even hedgehog ones.
It seems like a good idea. Especially because when you're a stranger in a strange land - even one as welcoming and friendly as Japan - sometimes a weary traveller just needs a bit of the unconditional affection only a cute animal can offer.
Cat cafes are everywhere, including New Zealand - but especially in Tokyo. Photo / 123RF
But here's the inherent flaw in the cat cafe concept: cats are typically not in the business of unconditional affection. I went to a cat cafe in Harajuku - which I regret - and the cats weren't in the slightest bit interested in us, or the fact we'd paid good money to hang out with them. They either slept, hid, or dramatically turned their heads and sashayed away whenever we came close.
I also visited a hedgehog cafe - a particularly bizarre offshoot of the cat cafe craze - and it was even worse. The tiny hedgehogs were balled up together and so shaking with fear we didn't have the heart to bother them, and we headed for the door as soon as we could.
I felt emphatically rejected by the animal kingdom, and uncertain about whether these cafes were even ethically OK. So later in Kyoto, when we got a tip about a place an hour away where you could pat and play with wild deer, I was sceptical. But on a quiet day, we decided to check it out - and this time, the advice was spot on.
Forget cat cafes. Forget hedgehog and owl and even snake cafes. If you want to get up close and personal with animals in Japan, Nara Park is where you want to go.
The massive public park, at the foot of Mount Wakausa in the small city of Nara, is overrun with hundreds of friendly, free-roaming Sika deer.
Deer are absolutely everywhere. Photo / Lauren McMah
It's one of the oldest parks in Japan and beautiful with its lush woodlands, tranquil gardens, wide open spaces and picture-perfect cherry blossoms in spring.
But it's the deer that Nara is really famous for. As soon as you arrive at Nara Station (we took the JR Nara Line service from Kyoto, about 45 minutes away) you're immediately presented with posters and statues of deer, the city's beloved mascot. On the bus from the Nara Station to the park (there are plenty of bus options from the station, and transport staff to help) cartoon deer are emblazoned on everything, even the seats.
The deer have long been considered sacred in Nara. They were revered as symbols of deities and they're now protected as national treasures.
They roam wild and free in Nara Park as they have for centuries - there are no fences keeping them in, no entry fee for visitors: you're free to enter and see them, pretty much as nature intended.
Two members of the welcome committee outside Kasuga-taisha shrine. Photo / Lauren McMah
And they're hungry buggers. As soon as we stepped off the bus we were ambushed by deer hustling for food. These were mostly younger ones; the older, wiser deer knew to hang out a few hundred metres further into the park, where vendors were selling "deer crackers" - large rice crackers, we think, although we weren't game enough to taste them - for 150 yen ($A1.80) for a pack of 10.
There were deer as far as the eye could see. They very friendly, although there were signs warning visitors not to agitate the deer, as they would - and occasionally did - get antsy. But the most remarkable thing about them was that they all knew how to ask for food.
No joke: the deer in Nara Park bow to humans to ask for food. (Want proof? Watch the video at the top of this page.)
I didn't know if it was Darwinism in action, or because bowing was so strong in Japanese culture even the animals caught on, or maybe that was just what deer did (I didn't know much beyond Disney's Bambi) but every deer we encountered would bow its head in anticipation of a cracker. If we held a cracker higher than they could reach, they'd bow again. It was extraordinary.
Kasuga-taisha, a Shinto shrine in Nara Park. Photo / Lauren McMah
After a few hours of this bow-and-feed game, and after we'd checked out the Nara National Museum on the park grounds, we walked deeper into the forest to visit Kasuga-taisha, a 1200-year-old Shinto shrine.
Along the way, we saw even more of the park's famous residents chilling among the ancient trees, some lining the gravelly path up to the shrine, others sitting on large concrete statues, like a welcome party of animated gargoyles.
But if you're keen to check out Nara Park for a no-cost, leisurely day in the great outdoors, let me offer this advice: as the day draws to a close, and most visitors start heading for the bus stops, take that opportunity to leave with them. You don't want to be outnumbered by hungry deer.
Enjoy feeding the deer, but try not to be the last ones left in the park. Photo / Lauren McMah
My last memory of Nara Park is the one that sticks out the most: of a young couple who'd suddenly found themselves the last humans in that section of the park. As we prepared to step on our bus back to Nara Station, we looked back to see the couple swarmed and mugged by a massive herd of hungry deer. In the near distance, another massive herd was galloping over the hill in their direction, just like the flock of dinosaurs in that iconic scene in Jurassic Park.
I guess there is such a thing as too much attention from animals.
