In a move that can only be described as a diplomatic wedge, Japan has quintupled the visa fees for British passport holders. The Land of the Rising Sun now demands a staggering £115 for the privilege of sipping sake in Shinjuku, a hike that has left the Foreign Office apoplectic and threatening retaliatory strikes against Tokyo's trade partners. It seems the samurai spirit has been replaced by a rather mercenary one.
One can almost hear the clink of yen in the pockets of Japanese bureaucrats as they count the spoils from this latest salvo in the ongoing culture wars. The British government, never one to shy from a good scrap, has warned of 'robust action' against Japanese imports. But let us be clear: this is not about trade.
This is about a fundamental misunderstanding of the British tourist. We go to Japan for the neon, the noodles, and the chance to be photographed in a themed cafe. We do not go for the economics.
The Foreign Office's bluster is nothing more than a puff of gin-scented air, a desperate attempt to save face after years of neglecting our Far Eastern allies. Perhaps the real story here is not the price of a visa, but the price of our own national pride. Is it worth a fiver?
In this case, it seems we have been forced to pay five times that. Heaven knows how much that is in real money. The only consolation is that the gin in the departure lounge will surely have improved by the time we are processed through the endless queues.