I visited Japan in 2018. It was a wonderful, busy trip. We went to Tokyo, Hakone, Hiroshima, Osaka, Kyoto, and Naoshima. I planned that trip with almost no room for error or downtime. During the pandemic, I made a few vows about things to do when it was over. Returning to Japan was one of them. Japan reopened to tourism in November 2022. Just about two years later, I made a return trip. But, this time, I wanted a more "relaxed" trip and more time in Kyoto.
Luckily, my travel partner had already been to Japan as well. We felt like we could relax and made the trip simple: three days in Tokyo, four in Kyoto, and two more in Tokyo, which turned into an unexpected three. I wanted to minimize travel days. While trains in Japan are excellent, I've come to value full days in a location. On my last trip to Japan, while it was longer, there were too many days of maneuvering transportation, and my obsession (and anxiety) with precise planning went to an extreme.
We landed in the afternoon, checked into our hotel in Shinjuku, and made it out to dinner for the best ramen of the trip at Menya Sho Honten. We wandered around Golden Gai but didn't have the energy for much more.
The first full day overlapped with a coincidence I was most excited about: seeing my favorite (living) photographer, Alec Soth, give an artist talk at the Tokyo Photographic Art Museum. I knew he had a retrospective opening that weekend, but luckily, he was also in town for the talk. The first 200 people in line before the museum opened received tickets to the afternoon talk. After lining up about 45 minutes before opening, we were tickets 173 and 174. If we had missed the subway or slept in a bit longer, we would have missed it. Things felt meant to be. High on espresso and jet lag, I was delighted.
We went through the exhibition, "A Room of Rooms," and then went to lunch. I had wanted to return to a pizza place, Seirinkan, that I had visited on the first trip. From the museum, it was a nice walk through the quiet neighborhood of Nakameguro. After excellent Neopolitan pizza, we went back for the artist talk. While the jet lag hit hard in the afternoon, and there was extra time for translating, I was so excited to hear Alec talk. He's as humble as he seems in everything I've listened to, watched, and read by him.
We finished an ambitious day with a sunset ticket for Shibuya Sky. It's basically a ready-made selfie and photoshoot location. I had read that it was worth visiting at sunset. While I do not like touristy stuff, I do enjoy the touristy, high-up viewing spots. This stems from my love of maps. I can see the city's layout from above, recognize the landmarks, and discern a sense of geography and proximity. The sunset was clear enough, and the people-watching was excellent.
After a quick nap, we ate late-night sushi and stopped at an organic wine bar, Pitou, in Golden Gai. We had found the wine bar the night before, and luckily, there were two seats left at this ten-seat bar. Classic rock was playing; it was intimate, dark, and one of the trip's most memorable moments. While I barely drink anymore, sitting in a dimly-lit, cozy bar with good music and conversation will always be appealing.
On Sunday, we wandered around Ginza to explore random and specific department stores. I stayed in Ginza on the first trip and remembered it as the shopping district without much character. This was still the case, but some streets were open to pedestrians, and observing a Sunday in Tokyo was interesting. After stopping in a few shops, we found a ramen place and returned to the hotel.
Monday morning, we took the Shinkansen to Kyoto. I was most looking forward to Kyoto. I felt photographically stuck in Tokyo but knew I'd find what I wanted in Kyoto. The city is slower and has a more local feeling.
On the first day, we spent a while wandering around Kyoto Station. The station's architecture is futuristic (completed in 1997), and I'm obsessed with the adjacent Kyoto Tower (1964). Yes, the mid-century towers are space age, but they are also so obviously masculine. After photographing around the station, we rented e-bikes and picked one temple to visit: Kiyomizu-dera. I visited many temples on the first trip and didn't want to spend the whole time in the unavoidable crowds of tourists. My friend's family is from Kyoto, so I asked if she had a favorite temple. She recommended Kiyomizu-dera, and we biked up the hill to the temple. It was the most crowded moment of the trip, but it was fun. We took photos, had green tea/black sesame swirl ice cream, and left within an hour.
After, we biked miles north to the Kyoto Botanical Gardens. The architecture of the greenhouse conservatory (1992) is gorgeous and aging in the most perfect way. Next to the gardens is the Garden of Fine Arts, Kyoto, a Tadao Ando-designed outdoor art museum with waterfalls. The Japanese architect created the space for outdoor viewing of eight masterpieces reproduced on porcelain panels. Then we stopped at Circus Coffee roaster and a random donut shop (donuts became the surprising obsession on the trip) and biked back to the hotel through quiet neighborhoods. For dinner, we went to an izakaya and then a few bars.
The next day, we quickly walked through an empty shrine and a random flea market on the way to Kyoto City KYOCERA Museum of Art. A very trippy exhibit, "Gucci Cosmos," was on view. After, we stopped at a lovely coffee shop with the best donuts of the trip. I spent a few hours working in the evening, and then we walked through Nishiki Market for dinner.
On the last day in Kyoto, we took the subway north and walked back to the train station through Pontochō alley. Some of the best advice for visiting Japan is to go out early before the crowds; well, really, that advice holds for any trip. We took the Shinkansen back to Tokyo for what we thought would be two more nights. We stayed an extra night after our first flight was delayed, and it made more sense to return a day late. After returning from Kyoto, we took the subway to Shimokitazawa, a younger, LGBTQ-friendly neighborhood with second-hand stores. One of the most fascinating things was how these second-hand stores are filled with American clothing from the 1990s.
We spent the first two nights in Shibuya, and the highlight for me was JBS Jazz Blues Soul Bar, a tiny vinyl-listening bar near Shibuya Crossing. The owner/bartender/DJ is in his late 60s and routinely tells customers how annoying they are. To one member of a group of Australian tourists, he said, "You talk loud but say nothing." The man replied, "Thank you for your opinion." With brevity and clarity, the owner's words really did mean more than all the words the tourist had spoken in the last hour. We spent a while there listening to jazz and 90s hip-hop.
The next day, we visited the Museum of Contemporary Art. The museum had a massive exhibit on, "A Personal View of Japanese Contemporary Art: Takahashi Ryutaro Collection." It was the largest single exhibit I've ever seen; one person's collection was fascinating. I left wondering how one stores such a diverse and, literally, giant collection. Afterward, we walked through Kiba Park and found a traditional kissaten, complete with indoor smoking. We wrote postcards and had cocktails and coffee.
On the bonus day, we stopped at Shibuya Food Show for pastries, went to the Mori Art Museum for a Louise Bourgeois show, and switched hotels in the Ueno neighborhood. In Ueno we went to the food market, Ameyoko, which is unlike the enclosed markets. This one is on the street and felt more like being in an episode of a Bourdain show: makeshift tables, fewer tourists, handwritten menus, the sound of the elevated train tracks nearby. It seemed more working-class and authentic. The kushiyaki was amazing; we ordered lots of meats on a stick (I was not vegetarian for the trip). After, we walked through Akihabara; the various "maid cafe" solicitations seemed more concerning this trip.
Before the airport, on the last day, we went to the Oedo Antique Market, which happens once or twice a month on a Sunday. I thrift at home but have never been terribly successful abroad. This trip was different; I was excited to find a few Japanese mid-century-modern items in Tokyo and at the flea market in Kyoto.
Overall, Japan was, again, everything. As someone who loves "order" and quiet, I appreciated Japan differently this time. The subways and trains are packed but quiet. There are crowds, but lines and paths and clarity. Japan has changed slightly since 2018; most places now accept credit cards, and there seems to be an even more significant push for control. For example, smoking (and drinking) on the street is "banned" in Shibuya, but there are areas for smokers to stand together behind plastic walls. Also, there were signs all over Shibuya indicating that Halloween celebrations were banned (apparently, the ban on Halloween began in 2023); it felt similar to Miami Beach trying to crack down on Spring Break last year. I wonder if the extended pandemic closure allowed the government to enact and enforce new rules before tourism resumed.
When I returned home, I immediately started thinking about a third visit. I know it will happen; after all, anything can happen, and my desire for travel knows no bounds.
