36 Hours in Tokyo: Reminiscing Through Photos

A year ago, I was on my way home to Canada after a two-year stint abroad. I had no idea that COVID was on the horizon or that this layover would be my travel experience for the foreseeable future. Reflecting on the past year, I feel immense gratitude for each opportunity to touch down in a new place and hit the ground running, including those 36 precious hours in Tokyo.

While a layover is never long enough to gain a full understanding, it is still a valuable window into another place and culture. Travellers often face pressure to “see” a place and “make the most” of an experience but their approach is often ticking off bucket-list sights. That is one way to experience a place, but not the only one. It took me many years and countless trips to recognize that pressure for what it was and learn to take the trip I wanted to take, not the one Trip Advisor was telling me to.

With only 36 hours to explore, I approached it in the way I knew best — with zero plans and open arms.

I stored my luggage at the airport then got a map and recommendations at the information desk. Following their advice, I took the train to Asakusa Station and went for a wander. I stumbled upon the Asakusa Culture Tourist Information Centre, where a free walking tour was just about to begin. The tour led me to the Sensō-ji Temple, where I discovered omikuji (fortune-telling). My “No. 13 Best Fortune” was a sign of all the serendipitous things to come.

I usually prefer to observe and absorb my surroundings rather than being part of a tour group but that morning, I was grateful to be led through the temple bustle. It was fascinating to learn about the history, landmarks, and local rituals unfolding all around me.

I found a top-rated ramen joint around the corner. It was a narrow space with three tables and a bar overlooking a bustling kitchen with four chefs working elbow-to-elbow in harmony. I ordered the first thing on the menu and have no words (see photo). I unbuttoned my jeans long before the last slurped noodle—and gladly.

I walked this feast off on the streets of Harajuku, a district of Tokyo known for its fashion and culture. No matter where you look or which street you meander down, eye candy abounds. Storefronts and pedestrians sport Harajuku fashion trends like Cosplay, Punk, and Lolita. This district is considered a fashion capital of the world yet I bought some surf wear from The Endless Summer, named for the classic 1996 surf documentary. Heading to the Canadian Rockies straight from a blissful week of surfing, this was a gesture to make surfing a bigger part of my life (I’ve temporarily settled for SUPing). I also thrifted a silk kimono, which filled my daypack to the brim.

I walked from Harajuku to the famous Shibuya crossing, where commuters splashed across the intersection like waves onto a beach. I took a seat at the bar of the Shibuya Starbucks and took in the scene while snagging the wifi to book a place to crash (I knew there would be no shortage of capsules and wanted to see where I ended up). Having written a few pieces for Mapped, I had already done my research on the 9 Hours Shinjuku capsule hotel, which happened to be nearby. I booked it online then hopped on the train and “checked in”. I stored some stuff in a locker, took a peek at my capsule, then set off in search of dinner.

I walked to Golden Gai, a famous bar district within Kabukicho (the red light district). Golden Gai is a network of tiny alleyways and cozy taverns, each seating anywhere from 5 to 25 patrons and decorated with a unique theme. Some are “locals only” joints without any signage while others welcome tourists. I followed my nose to a yet another bar overlooking the “kitchen”. As the night unfolded, I encountered two girls from Toronto, a local surfer/climber named Ami, two American grad students, the hippest bartender, rounds of shochu, 7-11 onigiri, and a penthouse hot tub overlooking Tokyo.

I crawled into my capsule and snatched four hours of sleep before checking out and sightseeing again. The day was spent strolling through neighbourhoods and visiting temples and gardens, punctuated by multiple stops at hip coffee joints. I went back to the Asakusa area early to explore it without a tour guide. Wandering at my own pace, I noticed small details and gestures I had missed in my excitement the day before—rustling leaves, curling smoke, clasped hands and subtle bows—the scene distilled into small but powerful images forever etched in my mind. I spent my last hours in Tokyo eating nigiri at a standup-bar with a new friend and walking along the Sumida River, just like locals do.

While I had been in near-constant motion over the last 36 hours, I had barely scratched the surface. A younger version of myself would have planned each minute to “maximize” my time but with my meandering pace and “come what may” approach, I crossed paths with the right people at the right time. I could not have planned a better layover if I’d tried.

A lot has changed in the world since this layover. With this year of nesting and stillness, I’ve had the opportunity to reflect on past travel experiences and appreciate all those homes away from home. Until it’s time to pack my bags again, I’ll be patiently awaiting a longer stay in Tokyo.