When I imagined Tokyo, one of the most populous metropolitan areas in the world, I expected chaos. Lots of it.
I pictured something along the lines of New York City on steroids. Horns honking, people shouting, cars cutting each other off, and sidewalks overflowing with humanity.
Instead, I found something quite different.
For a city of this magnitude, Tokyo was remarkably quiet and orderly. Traffic moved without the usual symphony of car horns, pedestrians seemed to know exactly where they were going, and the general atmosphere was surprisingly calm.
One of the things I enjoyed most was the juxtaposition of old and new, traditional and downright funky. One moment I was marveling at the beautifully presented foods in the basement of the Nihonbashi Mitsukoshi department store or the seemingly endless offerings at a Japanese 7-Eleven. The next, I was exploring centuries of history at the Imperial Palace, on the former site of Edo Castle.
The palace’s enormous stone walls particularly impressed me. Built without mortar, their massive stones were carefully fitted together. I found myself wondering how on earth they managed such substantial construction without modern machinery.
We also wandered through Kagurazaka, a historic neighborhood described in my itinerary as a blend of old Edo and chic French atmosphere. I can’t say I noticed much of the French influence, but the old Edo charm was unmistakable.
Narrow, cobblestoned lanes wound between traditional buildings, offering glimpses of the neighborhood’s past as a geisha district. What impressed me most was how much authentic character remained.
In many large cities I’ve visited, dark, narrow alleyways aren’t necessarily places you’d want to linger. Kagurazaka was quite the opposite. Immaculately clean, wonderfully quiet, and full of character, these little streets had a peacefulness I hadn’t expected to find in the middle of Tokyo.
It was a pleasure to leave the broad avenues behind and discover this quieter side of the city.
And walk we did. Quite a bit, actually. I came to the somewhat unwelcome realization that I’m not nearly as fit as I thought I was. Apparently, my regular walks at home haven’t quite prepared me for a full day of exploring Tokyo on foot.
A humbling discovery, to say the least. But tired feet aside, Tokyo was not the overwhelming urban chaos I’d anticipated. And I rather liked it.
Before arriving in Japan, I’d been diligently attempting to learn Japanese. And I must say, I was becoming quite confident in my linguistic abilities.
In my living room.
Unfortunately, my Japanese hasn’t traveled nearly as well as I have. There’s a considerable difference between confidently practicing phrases at home and attempting to retrieve them from the depths of your brain while an actual Japanese person is standing in front of you, patiently awaiting a response.
Apparently, I was much more fluent in Japanese when there weren’t any Japanese people around.
Mitsukoshi: Not Your Average Food Court
From the moment I entered the historic Nihonbashi Mitsukoshi department store, I was impressed. The grand entrance, magnificent architecture, and beautifully organized departments were a sight to behold.
But the real showstopper was downstairs.
The contrast between the grand, almost ceremonial entrance upstairs and the bustling culinary wonderland downstairs couldn’t have been more striking.
The basement food hall was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. Forget McDonald’s and the usual suspects of an American shopping mall food court. This was an entirely different universe.
Everything was extraordinarily fresh, meticulously prepared, and beautifully presented. From exquisite little sweets that looked almost too pretty to eat to some downright bizarre-looking fish, it was a feast for the eyes.
There were butchers, fishmongers, sushi chefs, and counters turning out all manner of freshly fried delicacies. Even the vegetables received the royal treatment, arranged and displayed as though they were precious jewels.
And the selection! Beautifully marbled beef, glistening seafood, elaborate prepared dishes, and confections that were practically works of art. I could have spent hours just wandering around.
Apparently, this is where many locals stop to pick up lunch, something delicious for dinner, or beautifully packaged gifts when visiting friends and family. It’s not simply a food court. It’s part of everyday life.
What made the experience even more remarkable was the staff. Everywhere I turned, someone was smiling, bowing, or offering a gracious greeting. Even with all the activity, there was a sense of courtesy and calm that I was beginning to recognize as distinctly Japanese.
Who knew a department store basement could be such a memorable cultural experience?
The obligatory egg sandwich from 7-11 😂
Alpaca anyone?
At the Punch Room in The Tokyo EDITION, Ginza, I found a cocktail on the menu called the Mustached Cupid. A mustached what? I ordered a Chardonnay. There’s enough unfamiliarity to process!
Before we went to Daio Wasabi Farm, my guide, driver, and I stopped for soba. The noodles were all buckwheat, and I got to grate my own wasabi. I also tried horse sashimi, which was quite good, and my driver poured me an unfiltered local beer called Bière de Hotaka. I was kind of surprised that neither my driver nor my guide had tried the unfiltered beer or the horse meat and they’re from Matsumoto.
Matsumoto Castle was stunning, and I thought I was totally game. Two nearly vertical staircases later, I’d made it to the first level. My guide wanted to spend about an hour inside. An hour of going up and down bunk-bed ladders? I was already wondering how I was going to get back down.
Meanwhile, grandmas and grandpas were passing me. They weren’t exactly flying, but they were doing a hell of a lot better than I was.
I ate crow.
After my rather humbling encounter with Crow Castle, it was time for something considerably more relaxing.
My ryokan, Tobira Onsen Myojinkan, was tucked away in a wonderfully charming setting, complete with its own onsen—traditional Japanese hot spring baths. The whole place had an atmosphere that made me want to slow down and soak it all in, quite literally.
On the drive to the ryokan, my guide reminded me of the Japanese tradition of haiku and offered a particularly lovely description of the autumn landscape: “The mountains have put on their makeup.” Looking at the hillsides dressed in their brilliant fall colors, I couldn’t have said it better myself
Dinner at Shinshu Dining TOBIRA was another adventure altogether. A beautifully presented, authentically Japanese meal, with ingredients and preparations that were as interesting as they were delicious.
One of my favorite little discoveries was the tabletop charcoal grill filled with glowing binchōtan, over which we gently toasted sheets of nori before assembling our own little sushi creations. I loved the whole ritual of it. Dinner wasn’t simply something to eat; it was something to participate in.
And the presentation! Autumn leaves, pinecones, beautiful pottery, and little arrangements that made each course feel like a miniature work of art.
That night at Hotel L’Alpage in Chino, I had roasted guinea fowl breast from Nagano with black rice, sautéed foie gras, and truffle sauce. It was amazing.
So Much for Cassoulet
Last night, I spotted cassoulet on the dinner menu. I adore cassoulet, so naturally, that’s what I ordered.
Unfortunately, my very Japanese waiter had other ideas.
Apparently, he’d noticed that I hadn’t been finishing everything on my plate at previous meals. So when I requested the cassoulet, he simply informed me, “No, you have fish.”
And so I had the fish.
Apparently, at Hotel L’Alpage, the customer isn’t always right. But the waiter knows best.
I’m beginning to think it might be time to grow my hair out. My waiter keeps calling me “sir.” Never mind the earrings, neck scarf, and mascara. Apparently, my short haircut trumps them all.
First he decides what I’m having for dinner, and now he’s decided I’m a man.
Perhaps I’ll return home with longer hair. And a cassoulet.
Things That Go Bump in the Night
Apparently, Japan wasn’t quite finished surprising me.
Sometime in the middle of the night, tucked into my lovely room at Hotel L’Alpage in Chino, an earthquake actually woke me from my sleep. I hadn’t been sleeping particularly well, but I was definitely asleep until something started moving that wasn’t supposed to be.
Sure enough, at approximately 1:04 a.m., a magnitude 5.7 earthquake was reported in western Shizuoka Prefecture. Here in Chino, the shaking registered a 3 on Japan’s seismic intensity scale.
So, in addition to temples, castles, extraordinary food, and the occasional three-ring circus, I can now add a Japanese earthquake to my travel experiences.
And to think, I came here for a little rest and relaxation.
