Tom Feiling has spent his career going where things get complicated. From the drug trade’s global machinery to Colombia’s fractured politics to the colonial echoes still reverberating across the Caribbean, he writes about the systems that shape lives – and the people caught inside them. His latest book, Alone in Japan, takes that restless curiosity quieter: into the phenomenon of social withdrawal in a country built around belonging.
It’s an unexpected move. Feiling is the author of The Candy Machine (2009), Short Walks from Bogotá (2012) and The Island That Disappeared (2017) – three books that between them mapped some of the world’s most complex territories. Now he turns his lens on solitude, and on what it means to disappear in plain sight in one of the world’s most hyper-connected societies.
You first lived in Japan in the ’90s; what was the most jarring change upon your return?
In my experience, Japanese people go out of their way not to jar. Lots has changed since the country’s heyday in the early ’90s, but it’s still a remarkably peaceful place. The government has done a good job of maintaining the illusion of continuity.
Did your time in Japan rewire your own relationship with solitude?
No, I don’t think so. Some countries, like Turkey, are very good at making solo travellers feel at home. In others, like Japan, you stand out like a sore thumb.
What is the biggest misconception about Japan’s aging crisis?
That it’s a uniquely Japanese problem. In every country in the developed world, over-65-year-olds are going to comprise upwards of a third of the population in the next 20 or so years.
Having written about both Old Providence and Japan, is there a shared ‘island’ psychology?
I haven’t considered that before, but now you mention it, there probably is. A shared love of seafood, perhaps?
What draws you to the world’s margins, from cocaine cartels to depopulated villages?
I’m not sure – who knows why we do the things we do? Maybe it’s down to a healthy scepticism for received wisdom. Or maybe it’s just a love of the countryside, and dramatic scenery.
Is there a specific region in Colombia or Japan that the world consistently misunderstands?
It’s not so much that people misunderstand places. They either don’t know anything about them, because those places don’t make the news, or they have a superficial, usually sensationalist view of them, because those places do make the news.
What is your core ritual for turning raw field notes into a narrative?
I try to imagine that I’m telling the story of what happened to me to a friend in the pub, rather than delivering a lecture. It’s a bit disingenuous, because in truth, I am delivering a lecture. But nobody likes to be lectured to, do they?
Which writers or memoirs do you return to when aiming to capture a place’s ‘soul’?
There are so many, so I’ll plump for some imaginary places. Gulliver’s Travels, by Jonathan Swift; Robinson Crusoe, by Daniel Defoe; The Asiatics, by Frederic Prokosch; and Invisible Cities, by Italo Calvino.
What is the best book discovery you’ve made recently?
The Betrayal of Prince Genji, by Alfred Birnbaum. It’s partly set in 11th century Japan, and partly in Kobe after the 1995 earthquake. It’s a wonderful book – I can’t believe it hasn’t found a publisher.
Favourite local restaurants?
Khans on Brixton Water Lane in south London. It’s just around the corner from where I live, and it does a wonderful lamb shashlik.
Local hidden gem?
The secret garden in Brockwell Park. It’s a walled garden dating back to the time when Brixton was a village and the park was a farm.
Best local bars?
I like the London Beer Lab and The Beehive on Brixton Road.
Where do you go for creative energy?
When I’m writing, I like to find somewhere hot to hole up for a few months – Taganga, on the north coast of Colombia, and Oaxaca in Mexico were both excellent.
Where do you go for pure escapism?
I suppose all travel is escape from the familiar. The further you go, the more you escape.
Favourite hotel, anywhere in the world?
I usually plump for hostels or guesthouses over hotels. But the Pension Roma in Cairo is much like a hotel. It’s a great place for fans of Agatha Christie.
What’s always in your carry-on?
A good book.
Most inspiring city for writing you’ve visited recently?
I really like Cairo and Mexico City. Nagasaki was a nice city as well.
Your top three museums in the world and why?
The Savitsky Museum in Nukus, Uzbekistan is little known, which is a shame, as it has a fantastic collection of paintings that were rescued from Stalin’s censors. I’d also recommend The Frick Collection in New York City, for the Holbeins, and the Estorick Collection of Modern Italian Art in north London.
Travel splurge you’ll never regret?
I’m not one for splurging. I travel on the cheap!
Dream vacation, not yet fulfilled?
There are still lots of places I’d like to visit. Patagonia, Morocco, China, India…
Best travel advice or philosophy?
Everything is important except time and money.
