Living an hour outside of Tokyo by bullet train, I had made the trip from Shizuoka several times. But Narita and Haneda are not Tokyo. I wanted to see the city outside of its airports. With a general plan mapped and no school on Monday due to National Sports and Wellness Day, ‘twas finally time for a long weekend in the world’s most populated metropolis!
Walking out of Tokyo Station and straight into the gated gardens of the Imperial Palace, we acquainted ourselves quietly.
But a walk south to the Ginza Shopping district (Tokyo’s answer to New York’s 5th Avenue) gave a clearer feel of the density and bustle, with a constant stream of people flowing through jumbotron-bedecked intersections and upscale boutiques: Prada, Tiffany, Gucci, Coach.
We perused Ginza’s Sony Building, displaying five floors of electronics set out for visitors to try, then made our winding way to the Tokyo Tower, the city’s taller (by 8.5m) yet tackier (painted red and white) version of the Eiffel Tower.
After a muted sunset from the skydeck, we visited the second-floor Statistics Museum (a stop in honor of Corey James), which was a couple rooms displaying data on the tower and the country at large. Lots of graphs and such.
Next, we located our hostel in the Asakusa district, near the Asahi beer headquarters (designed to look like a flame atop the building, the illuminated blob is more commonly known as “the golden turd”) and Senso-ji temple.
In an underground, little-traveled walkway of the Asakusa subway station, we found a dirty, delicious Thai café, then left sleepy Asakusa for a prime-time visit to Shibuya.
Groups of twenty- and thirty-somethings packed the broad cement skirt outside the subway station. Some carried instruments, most sported hair gel and skinny jeans. As the traffic lights of Shibuya Crossing changed from green to yellow to red and back to green, pedestrians piled up, a lake forming behind a dam, then proceeded in giant waves as the cars were halted in turn, in the giant confluence of crosswalks and multi-lane roadways crammed with taxis.
This is where the city refuses to rest, with so much wilding to be had. But Tokyo’s subways do shut down overnight; we left Shibuya on the last cross-town train.
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