Stepping off the train in Shinjuku Station, the busiest railway hub in the world, with nearly 3 million people passing through each day, I’m immediately engulfed by Tokyo’s electric energy.
Neon billboards flash overhead, and a sea of commuters flows with purpose. Yet amid this ultramodern rush, it takes only a short wander to find an opposite world.
Ducking into a side alley, I suddenly find myself under the gentle glow of red lanterns, enveloped in the smoky aroma of grilling skewers.
In Tokyo, hypermodern skyscrapers and bullet trains coexist with hidden shrines and quiet alleys frozen in time.
It’s this seamless blend of old and new, the city’s ability to be at once a futuristic metropolis and a bastion of tradition, that makes Tokyo one of the most fascinating cities on the planet.
Tokyo’s Urban Dazzle
I join the crowd at Shibuya Crossing, surrounded by towering video screens and kaleidoscopic neon signs. The first time you cross here, with lights blaring and giant screens flashing J-Pop idols overhead, is an almost cinematic thrill.
This intersection holds a Guinness World Record as the busiest crossing in the world, and it’s best experienced after dark when all the signs and screens are lit up in dazzling color.
From the far side, I gaze back at the endless stream of humanity flowing across in every direction – a living symbol of Tokyo’s pulsating modernity.
Just a few blocks away, I slip into an elevator that whisks me up a skyscraper for a bird’s-eye view. Tokyo’s futuristic skyline stretches to the horizon – a glittering forest of high-rises punctuated by landmarks like Tokyo Skytree, the tallest tower on earth at 634 meters.
On its observation deck, 450 meters high, I peer out over a seemingly infinite cityscape, city lights fading into the distance and (on a clear day) even glimpse the distant cone of Mt. Fuji. Far below, the city buzzes. Down at street level in Akihabara, nicknamed “Electric Town,” I dive into Japan’s pop-tech mecca.
The streets here are a sensory arcade of anime billboards and gadget shops. Multi-story electronics stores blare J-Pop tunes; arcades overflow with colorful claw machines and retro games.
Once a hub for radio parts, Akihabara today is ground zero for otaku culture – a place to shop for the latest high-tech toys, flip through manga comics, or geek out over vintage video games.
It’s not unusual to see cosplayers on the sidewalks or to duck into a themed café (ever been served coffee by a maid in a frilly costume?). Tokyo’s obsession with innovation is on full display here and in glitzy districts like Ginza, where sleek flagship stores and avant-garde architecture line the boulevards.
Tokyo’s modern delights aren’t just about lights and shopping – they also include nightlife and cutting-edge art. In Shibuya and Shinjuku, as evening deepens, the city truly comes alive.
The famous Shibuya “Scramble” transforms into a neon wonderland at night, and just a stroll away is a jungle of entertainment. Shibuya offers countless dining options and multi-level clubs where you can dance till dawn, often topping off the night belting out karaoke in a private booth.
Over in Shinjuku’s Kabukicho district, glowing signboards advertise everything from themed bars to robot cabarets, and the alleyways of Golden Gai hide tiny 6-seater bars each with its own quirky theme.
In this hyper-modern city, you can sip craft cocktails in a swanky high-rise lounge, or just as easily step back down to street level and grab a steaming bowl of ramen at a vending-machine ticket shop that’s open past midnight.
Tokyo constantly dazzles you with its urban intensity – yet whenever the sensory overload hits a peak, relief is never far away, for this city is equally a place of unexpected calm and tradition.
Traditions of Old Tokyo
Despite its cutting-edge image, Tokyo is profoundly rooted in history and ritual. One morning, I trade the rush of Shinjuku for the calm of Asakusa, one of Tokyo’s oldest neighborhoods.
As I pass under the giant red lantern of the Kaminarimon Gate, I feel I’ve stepped back in time. This is the entrance to Sensō-ji, Tokyo’s oldest Buddhist temple, originally founded in the year 628.
The temple’s classical roof and vermilion columns survived centuries of change (rebuilt after wartime destruction) and continue to welcome over 30 million visitors each year. Senso-ji’s sprawling complex is alive with tradition: pilgrims waft incense smoke over themselves for good fortune, and visitors clap and bow in prayer before the gilded altar.
I toss a coin offering, gently ring the prayer bell, and draw an omikuji paper fortune from a wooden box – a centuries-old ritual still practiced today. The atmosphere balances reverence with festival-like fun.
On the approach to the temple, Nakamise-dōri shopping street bustles with vendors selling luck charms, folding fans, and sweet rice crackers, just as they have for generations. Standing in the shadow of Sensō-ji’s five-story pagoda, I close my eyes and hear the deep toll of a bronze bell – a timeless sound amidst a modern city.
Not far away, I wander into a neighborhood of low eaved houses and old wooden shops. This is Yanaka, an area often called a “living museum” of Shitamachi (old Tokyo) life. Here, cats nap on shrine walls and locals still greet the tofu seller by name.
In Yanaka’s winding lanes and hidden temples, Tokyo’s history isn’t trapped behind glass – it’s in the rhythm of daily life. I pause at a small shrine where paper lanterns sway in the breeze, and I’m struck by how centuries-old traditions quietly endure.
Even in hypermodern Tokyo, families still dress in kimono for holiday shrine visits, and spring cherry blossom season sees everyone from grandparents to schoolkids picnicking under the pink canopy in an annual hanami celebration of nature’s beauty.
In Ueno Park, which bursts with cherry blossoms each spring, I find a peaceful reprieve after exploring the surrounding alleys and retro izakaya taverns of Ueno – an older district that balances energetic street life with tranquil green spaces.
One of Tokyo’s greatest escapes is hiding in plain sight in the heart of the city: the forest of Meiji Jingū. Next to Harajuku’s ultra-modern shops lies a huge Shinto shrine dedicated to Emperor Meiji, nestled within a deep evergreen forest.
I arrive through a towering torii gate of cypress wood and follow a pebbled path into the woods. Here the city’s clamor falls away into a chorus of rustling leaves. It’s hard to believe this peaceful enclave sits within walking distance of Shibuya’s neon mayhem.
In fact, the shrine’s dense forest was entirely man-made, planted a century ago with 100,000 trees donated from across Japan. Now fully grown, these woods are an oasis of calm in the bustling metropolis, and the shrine welcomes over 3 million visitors each New Year while somehow retaining its serenity.
I cleanse my hands at the shrine’s water pavilion (a purifying act called temizu) and observe locals respectfully bowing at the altar, offering up prayers.
If you visit, you might catch a glimpse of a traditional Shintō wedding procession – brides in snowy white kimono, grooms in crest-marked haori jackets – moving slowly across the courtyard.
Meiji Shrine, open from sunrise to sunset and free to enter, is a testament to the contrasts at Tokyo’s core: a sacred stillness set amid one of the world’s busiest cities.
From Electric Towns to Old Alleyways
Tokyo is often described as a collection of distinct villages, each with its own spirit. Traveling through its neighborhoods is like hopping between different worlds. In Harajuku, I am swept into a riot of color and youth culture.
Takeshita Street is a crush of trend-setting teenagers and curious tourists nibbling rainbow-hued cotton candy and crepe ice creams. On Sundays, this area becomes a stage for style – I spot girls in frilly Gothic Lolita dresses, guys in elaborate cosplay, and even the famous rockabilly dancers at Yoyogi Park, greasing back pompadour hair and dancing energetically to 1950s rock’n’roll.
The whole neighborhood feels like an open-air fashion lab where Tokyo’s youth subcultures experiment with looks that range from quirky to downright fantastical.
For a dose of pure whimsy, I duck into a purikura photo booth where you can adorn your snapshots with cat ears and sparkles – a Harajuku rite of passage.
Yet, as surreal as Harajuku can be, it sits literally next door to the stately Meiji Shrine grounds, proving Tokyo’s contrasts are often a few footsteps apart.
In nearby Shibuya and Shinjuku, the themes are innovation and nightlife. Shinjuku’s skyline is dominated by sleek towers like the Mode Gakuen cocoon and Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building (which has a free observation deck for panoramic city views).
Below them sprawls an urban playground: massive department stores, game centers, karaoke parlors, and bustling izakaya alleys. Come night, salarymen in suits loosen their ties and crowd into the tiny taverns of Omoide Yokocho (Memory Lane) by Shinjuku’s west exit.
Nostalgic Omoide Yokocho: Tucked under the neon glow of Shinjuku, this narrow alleyway of closet-sized eateries is like stepping into postwar Tokyo. In Omoide Yokocho’s warren of lanes, steam from charcoal grills mingles with lantern-light, and you find yourself shoulder-to-shoulder with locals perched on tiny stools.
I squeeze into a yakitori joint barely wider than a phone booth; smoky charred aromas fill the air as the chef fans chicken skewers over hot coals just inches away. Elbow-to-elbow with a friendly businessman and a fellow traveler, I raise a frothy mug of draft beer in a silent toast. Here, conversation and laughter flow as easily as the house sake.
The scene is straight from a bygone era – rustic wooden facades, hand-painted signs, red paper lanterns swaying overhead – a stark contrast to the high-rise jungle outside. Slurping grilled skewers and noddles in this alley, I feel the convivial intimacy that Tokyo’s tiny pubs and eateries cultivate, where strangers chat like old friends over late-night bowls of soba and udon.
In places like Omoide Yokocho and the bar cluster of Golden Gai, the city’s modern pace slows and the nostalgia of old Tokyo is alive and well.
Meanwhile, across town in upscale Ginza, a different vibe prevails – polished, elegant, and artful. This is Tokyo’s luxury quarter, home to flagship boutiques, sophisticated cocktail bars, and the famous Kabuki-za Theater where classical kabuki plays are still performed.
Strolling Ginza’s wide sidewalks is like browsing a living gallery of high fashion. Even if you’re not shopping for designer wear, the window displays and architecture (think buildings shaped like stacked lanterns or a glass sailboat) are stunning.
Ginza also boasts some of the city’s top art spaces, like the Mori Art Museum in nearby Roppongi, which showcases cutting-edge contemporary art high above the city in the 54th-floor Mori Tower.
I recall an exhibit I saw there – a mesmerizing installation of thousands of red threads woven spiderweb-like across a huge room – it was an immersive art experience unlike any other.
Tokyo’s art scene spans from such avant-garde installations to traditional arts: you can witness a tea ceremony in a tranquil garden teahouse, or spend an afternoon at the Tokyo National Museum in Ueno, admiring samurai swords and ukiyo-e woodblock prints.
Every neighborhood contributes a new chapter to Tokyo’s story: bohemian Shimokitazawa with its indie music clubs and vintage shops, electronic Akihabara with its anime shrines and gadget havens, historic Asakusa with its temple markets and rickshaws.
Exploring Tokyo feels endless and endlessly rewarding – “dizzying to do it all,” as one travel writer put it – but the diversity of its districts is exactly what makes the city so captivating.
Sushi Mornings to Midnight Ramen
No exploration of Tokyo is complete without indulging in its culinary wonders. The city is a food lover’s paradise, from simple street stalls to the height of gourmet dining.
Early one morning, I venture to Tsukiji Outer Market, the famed seafood bazaar that’s been the beating heart of Tokyo’s sushi scene for decades. (The wholesale fish market itself moved to Toyosu in 2018, but Tsukiji’s outer market remains lively as ever.)
By 6AM, the narrow lanes of Tsukiji are already humming – knifework demonstrations at tuna stalls, vendors shucking fresh oysters, shoppers jostling for bags of dried seaweed and green tea.
I join a line at a tiny sushi stand where the chef presses jewels of ruby-red tuna and glistening salmon onto vinegared rice pads. By 7AM I’m savoring the freshest sushi breakfast imaginable, a melt-in-your-mouth reward for braving the early wake-up.
Between bites of fatty tuna, I nibble on street snacks like tamagoyaki (fluffy rolled omelet on a stick) and onigiri rice balls stuffed with salmon – classic market bites that taste of tradition.
If seafood isn’t your thing that early, Tsukiji’s lanes also offer mochi rice cakes, grilled eel skewers, and even an omelet-on-rice sandwich acclaimed by locals. It’s a crash course in Japanese cuisine’s freshness and variety, all before the rest of the city has had its coffee.
As the day goes on, Tokyo continues to tempt your palate at every turn. Lunch might mean ducking into a humble ramen-ya shop with noren curtains out front. I find one in a Shinjuku backstreet – inside, salarymen are standing elbow-to-elbow at a counter (no chairs here) hurrying through bowls of shio ramen.
These tachigui stand-and-eat noodle stalls are beloved by Tokyoites on the go. Slurping is encouraged – in Japan, the louder the slurp, the greater the compliment to the chef. Don’t be shy to make some noise as you inhale the hot noodles; it’s part of the experience.
For a quick nibble, I often pop into one of the ubiquitous convenience stores like 7-Eleven or Lawson. It still surprises me how conbini (convenience store) food in Japan is legitimately tasty and high-quality.
Shelves are stocked with everything from sushi rolls and onigiri (seaweed-wrapped rice triangles with savory fillings) to cream puffs and freshly brewed drip coffee.
I grab a few onigiri – one with salmon, one with pickled plum – for barely a couple hundred yen each, and they hit the spot perfectly. Whether it’s a hearty bowl of beef curry at a standing counter or a skewer of grilled chicken from a street vendor, Tokyo shows that delicious food is everywhere, at every price point.
For dinner, the choices are endless. Perhaps I’ll go on an izakaya hop – ducking into the casual pubs that dot every neighborhood – to sample a bit of everything.
In the lantern-lit alleys of an izakaya district, I start with yakitori skewers in one tiny tavern, then slip next door for tempura and cold beer at the next. A friendly chef recommends I try okonomiyaki (savory pancake) at a Osaka-themed bar across the street.
Hours disappear in a blur of clinking glasses and shared small plates. Tokyo’s nightlife is as much about eating as it is drinking, and even late at night you’ll see locals ordering oyu-wari (hot water diluted shochu) and a few last bites of grilled squid before catching the final train home.
Of course, Tokyo is also a global gourmet capital. The city is home to more Michelin-starred restaurants than any other on Earth – a staggering 200 restaurants earned stars in the 2023 guide. Here, you can dine on exquisite multi-course kaiseki that looks like edible art, or world-class French-Japanese fusion in sleek high-rise settings.
Yet what’s beautiful is that Tokyo’s food culture isn’t confined to the elite. As Michelin’s director noted, this city excels in its gastronomic diversity – from modest ramen shops and tiny sushi counters to the fanciest haute cuisine, every level of dining is done with passion and precision.
I experienced this first-hand at a humble noodle shop under the train tracks in Yurakucho: the chef had been making the same pork broth for 30 years, perfecting it daily.
The result was a ¥900 bowl of ramen that deserves its own award. Whether you’re biting into a ¥200 taiyaki fish-shaped pastry from a street stall or a ¥20,000 omakase sushi course prepared by a master, Tokyo delivers flavor and memory in equal measure.
Travel tip: one must-visit for foodies is a depachika – the basement food hall of department stores like Isetan or Mitsukoshi. It’s a wonderland of gourmet stalls selling beautiful bento boxes, delicate wagashi sweets, imported cheeses, and more, providing an eye-popping look at how seriously Japan takes its food presentation.
Art, Fashion, and Pop Culture Collide
Beyond food, Tokyo seduces the culturally curious with its dynamic arts and entertainment.
If you love museums, you could spend days here: from the massive Tokyo National Museum (showcasing samurai armor, Buddhist sculptures and more) to the quirky Ghibli Museum in Mitaka (a must for fans of Miyazaki’s animated films), there’s something for every interest.
I personally am drawn to contemporary art, and Tokyo feeds that hunger well. At the Mori Art Museum in Roppongi, I wandered through thought-provoking installations by local artists – one exhibit filled an entire gallery with an intricate web of red yarn, titled “Uncertain Journey,” which symbolized the tangled paths of life. Standing beneath that crimson canopy overlooking the city lights was a surreal intersection of art and metropolis.
Tokyo also has a thriving street art and design scene; even its public spaces are imaginative, like the architect-designed modern public toilets in Shibuya that have become attractions in their own right.
Fashion in Tokyo is itself a form of artistic expression. We’ve touched on Harajuku’s youthful extremes, but Tokyo fashion runs the gamut. In Omotesando, sometimes called Tokyo’s Champs-Élysées, I stroll past high-end boutiques by the world’s top designers.
The architecture of these stores is noteworthy – one looks like a sharply cut glass prism, another like a wooden lattice. Even if your wallet stays in your pocket, it’s inspiring to window-shop and see the cutting-edge of global fashion. Meanwhile, districts like Shimokitazawa offer indie fashion with dozens of thrift shops and local designer boutiques, perfect for finding a unique Tokyo streetwear item.
I scored a vintage yukata robe in one such shop for a bargain, a blend of old-meets-new style. If you have time, diving into Akihabara’s pop culture side is a must for a different kind of art: anime and gaming.
There are multi-floor stores like Mandarake and Animate brimming with comic books, collectible figurines, and rare fan memorabilia that will make any nerd’s heart sing. You can even catch live performances by J-Pop idol groups at dedicated theaters (Akihabara is home to the AKB48 idol group’s own stage).
Tokyo’s pop culture influence is palpable – this is the city that gave the world Pokémon, quirky game shows, and street styles that continually influence global trends. Embrace it by visiting a themed café (perhaps a Pokémon Café or a retro arcade bar) or by simply people-watching in areas like Harajuku and Akihabara, which can feel like real-life comic books.
Practical Tips and Etiquette for a Tokyo Journey
Visiting Tokyo can be deeply enriching, and a few insider tips will help you navigate the city like a pro:
- Getting Around: Tokyo’s public transportation is efficient and expansive. Pick up a Suica or Pasmo IC card – a rechargeable smart card that makes riding trains, subways, and buses a breeze (you can even use it for small purchases at vending machines and shops). Trains typically run from about 5:00am until around midnight; after that, late-night revelers often rely on taxis or the occasional 24-hour manga café to crash until morning’s first train. Stations like Shinjuku and Tokyo can be massive and maze-like, so give yourself extra time to navigate, especially during rush hour when the commuter crowds are intense.
- Accommodation: Tokyo offers everything from five-star high-rises to tiny capsule pods. For a balance of culture and comfort, consider staying in a ryokan (traditional inn) for a night or two. Sleeping on futon mattresses atop tatami mat floors and soaking in a communal bath can be a memorable way to experience Japanese hospitality. In the historic Yanaka district, for example, lies Ryokan Sawanoya, a family-run inn known for its cozy atmosphere – including soothing earthenware baths – and even occasional performances of lion dance, a throwback to old Edo entertainment. Wherever you stay, you’ll find Tokyo accommodations clean, safe, and often ingeniously designed to maximize small spaces.
- Etiquette Essentials: Japanese culture highly values respect and consideration for others. A little cultural know-how goes a long way. Remember to remove your shoes when entering homes, traditional inns, and even some restaurants and temples – look for shoe racks or genkan entryways with slippers provided. It’s wise to wear comfortable slip-on shoes since you might be taking them off frequently. In Tokyo’s shrines and temples, follow the local customs: at a Shintō shrine like Meiji Jingū, for instance, it’s polite to bow once at the torii gate, rinse your hands (and mouth, discreetly) at the purification fountain, and bow twice-clap twice-bow once when offering a prayer. When meeting people or thanking someone, a slight bow or even a friendly nod is appreciated – no need for handshakes every time.
- Mind the Manners: On public transport, keep your phone on silent and avoid talking on calls – trains are surprisingly quiet even when crowded. Eating while walking is generally frowned upon; it’s better to stand off to the side or find a bench if you grab street food. Speaking of food, using the provided hot towel (oshibori) at restaurants to wipe your hands is okay, but not for your face. And if you’re dining with locals, a little kanpai! (cheers) before drinking and an itadakimasu (said before eating, meaning “I humbly receive”) will earn you appreciative smiles.
- Learn a Few Phrases: Though you’ll find a lot of signage in English and many Tokyoites speak some English, trying a bit of Japanese is part of the fun. Simple words like arigatō (thank you), sumimasen (excuse me/sorry) and konnichiwa (hello) can help break the ice. Tokyo residents are generally very polite and helpful – I’ve had strangers notice my puzzled look at a map and proactively offer guidance. If someone bows or thanks you, a warm smile and a reciprocal nod are perfectly fine as acknowledgment.
- Timing and Seasonality: Tokyo has four distinct seasons, each with its own charm. Spring (March–April) brings cherry blossoms – if you visit then, do as locals do and enjoy a picnic under blooming trees, but expect large crowds at popular spots like Ueno Park or Meguro River. Summer can be hot and humid, but it’s also festival season (think fireworks festivals and lively neighborhood matsuri with portable shrines and street food stalls – a fantastic cultural experience). Autumn (Oct–Nov) offers beautiful foliage in parks and gardens, like the maples in Rikugi-en turning fiery red. Winter is chilly but around New Year you can witness Hatsumōde, the year’s first shrine visit, when millions flock to Meiji Shrine and others at midnight on Dec 31 – a very special atmosphere. Whenever you go, pack good walking shoes; Tokyo is enormous, and you’ll be surprised how much you end up walking, even with all the trains.
- Insider Experiences: If you have time, consider exploring with a theme. For instance, a bicycle tour can be a refreshing way to see Tokyo’s neighborhoods up close – the city’s terrain is mostly flat and bike rentals (or guided cycle tours) are readily available. You could pedal from the Imperial Palace, through leafy avenues, and end up in backstreets that tourists often miss. Another idea: wake up early to catch the morning ritual of sumo practice in Ryōgoku – you can sometimes observe wrestlers training at stables (beya) for free, a unique glimpse into Japan’s old sport. And if you’re a night owl, Golden Gai in Shinjuku is a must for bar-hopping: six alleys packed with tiny bars, each with its own theme (jazz, punk rock, 80s nostalgia – you name it). Don’t be intimidated by the closeness; squeeze in and strike up a conversation. In these snug bars, travelers and locals mingle, and I’ve made a friend or two for the night just by commenting on the music playing.
Tokyo’s magic lies in these layers of experiences – the contrasts between futuristic and traditional, the mega-city thrills and the personal connections made in intimate spaces.
As my journey in Tokyo comes to an end, I find myself one evening on the rooftop observation deck of Shibuya Sky, watching the city sparkle below.
In the distance, the Tokyo Tower glows orange against the night sky and the headlights on the highways form rivers of light. I reflect on the days spent exploring: the solemn moment listening to chanting at a shrine, the absurd fun of a high-tech arcade, the exquisite taste of sushi that melted like butter, the laughter shared with new acquaintances in a tiny bar.
Tokyo isn’t just a city you see – it’s a city you feel. It’s the gentle hum of a temple bell mingling with the techno beat from a storefront, the scent of ramen broth and cherry blossoms, the polite bow of a waiter handing you change on a tiny tray, the safe late-night walks through alleys that glow with lanterns.
I know that Tokyo’s spell will call me back, for there will always be more to discover in this endlessly captivating metropolis.