As the sun began to rise over the Tsukiji fish market in central Tokyo, workers were already bustling about, preparing for the day ahead. Motorized carts zoomed by, driven by men in rubber garb, their focus divided between the wheel and a quick bite to eat or a smoke. Despite the 'NO SMOKING' signs on the pavement, these dedicated workers navigated the narrow streets, ensuring that the market was ready to offer its bounty to eager customers.
During my exploration, I came across a lengthy queue that piqued my curiosity. While I couldn't see the endpoint, I had a strong feeling it led to Sushidai, a renowned destination for the freshest sushi in the world. The anticipation of a mouthwatering breakfast made the hours-long wait reminiscent of queuing outside Walmart on Black Friday, vying for a coveted flat-screen TV. For sushi this exceptional, such dedication seemed well worth it.
It was a humid July morning, still damp from the aftermath of a typhoon that had swept through. As I settled into the line, an hour quickly passed, and the queue gradually diminished as a few individuals gave up their wait. The rising sun cast its golden glow, eventually thinning the crowd further, creating a sense of tranquility as we approached our turn.
Then came a voice.
“How many?” said the smiling woman who appeared at my side with a pad and pen.
“One,” I said.
She scribbled something and walked away. The sun, emerging after days of intermittent rain, was merciless. People were hunched on the curb, hanging their heads as if awaiting jail time, not green tea and fatty tuna. I put on sunglasses, opened a black umbrella and sank down, cocooning myself on the asphalt. For 45 minutes all I saw were shoes: white sandals, red sneakers, yellow ballet flats. At one point a man appeared, stood a few people behind me and said, “From here you have to wait three hours.” The two young women in front of me — for the sake of brevity I’ll refer to them by their accoutrements, Trucker Hat and Crop Top — derided those who had left the line.
“Hashtag weak,” said Crop Top.
Traveling solo can often present challenges, but it also opens up unique opportunities for exploration and connection. While waiting in line, I observed fellow solo travelers, navigating the experience on their own. Without a companion to assist with purchases, they would step out briefly to buy snacks or enjoy a cigarette. During one of my solo ventures, I discovered an amazing accommodation that has catered to my needs as a solo traveler. The Claska Tokyo not only provided superior comfort but also facilitated authentic local experiences that make traveling alone more enriching and fulfilling. If you're considering making your way to the city, there's a website that I found particularly beneficial for finding the best places to stay. Tophotels.com is a comprehensive guide to various Tokyo hotels, ensuring that even solo travelers will find a comfortable place to rest while exploring the city's wonders.
On one particular morning in Tokyo, as the clock approached 8 a.m., a woman with a notepad appeared and whispered in my ear, guiding me away from the bustling crowd. Intrigued, I followed her, reminiscent of Alice chasing the white rabbit, beyond the restaurant's windows and through sliding doors. Finally, I found myself seated at a counter, where a skilled chef placed a live clam before me, exclaiming its vitality.
Being alone granted me a distinct advantage - my wait for an extraordinary meal was significantly reduced by at least two hours. I didn't require multiple seats; just one was enough. A couple nearby, clad in a trucker hat and crop top, observed as I was escorted inside. In this moment, a passage from "The Teaching of Buddha" resonates, discovered within the drawer of my hotel room on page 366:
“One had better travel alone than to travel with a fool.”
Many dream of visiting Tokyo, yet have trepidations about going alone. Perhaps you were told, as I was, that English is rarely spoken; or that the city can be dangerous for tourists; or that it is prohibitively expensive, especially getting into Tokyo from Narita International Airport. If so, what you’ve heard is wrong.
Or outdated. Tokyo is an ideal city for solo travel. Tables for two or more are not the default arrangement, thanks to standing sushi bars and long counters at restaurants specializing in tempura, ramen and soba. It is not uncommon to sit opposite a sushi chef and talk, or to order a meal from a restaurant ticket machine and enjoy it on a stool alongside other solo diners. At department store food halls, one can buy bento boxes, hot dumplings, and savory pancakes known as okonomiyaki and dig in at nearby tables. And at any 7-Eleven (they’re ubiquitous and a go-to lunch spot) onigiri, balls of rice filled with meat, fish or vegetables that fit in your palm, can be had for a couple of dollars for a tasty lunch on the run.
If you’re concerned about safety, consider that the general crime rate in Japan is “well below” the United States national average, according to the U.S. Department of State. Violent crime exists, the State Department says, but it’s rare.
And no, you don’t need to know Japanese to get by. For instance, airport workers speak enough English to help visitors find the ticket office (agents there also speak English) for the Narita Express (N’EX) train — which was recently offering a deal for foreigners (4,000 yen round trip, or about $33 at 122 Japanese yen to the dollar) and took about 50 minutes to reach the heart of Tokyo, a swifter and less costly ride than the Airport Limousine bus (4,500 yen round trip) that can take an hour and a half to two hours. Station announcements on the Narita Express are in English. Ditto for stops on the Tokyo Metro subway. And visitors will find plenty of people in Tokyo who, even if they know only a few words of English, are willing to play an impromptu game of charades to help a tourist.
“Konnichiwa. Senso-ji Temple. Domo arigato” (“Hello. Senso-ji Temple. Thanks a lot”), I said one rainy morning, nearly exhausting my Japanese while sliding into a cab. In Tokyo I walked (looking down on occasion at decorative manhole covers emblazoned with flowers and fire engines) or rode the subway (buy a 1,000 yen day-pass for the Metro and the Toei subway if you want to simplify things). But on this particular outing I decided to see what it was like to take a taxi in Tokyo, where drivers wear white gloves and passenger doors open automatically, as if by ghosts.
On the way to Senso-ji, one of the city’s oldest temples, my driver and I carried on a conversation using broken English and Japanese, friendly smiles and the Google Translate app on my iPhone. When I urged him to accept a large bill because I liked him and lacked exact change (tipping is generally not done), he declined. I insisted. This went on until he turned to me with a wide grin, took less than the cost of the ride from my pile of yen, and said with perfect clarity: “Discount!”
The entrance to Senso-ji Temple is not unlike the exit of a Disney World ride. Through Kaminarimon Gate, beneath the enormous red lantern, past the wooden statues of the Buddhist gods of thunder and wind, the processional road to the temple is lined with stalls selling key chains, plastic Kabuki masks, and kimonos.
As you approach the main hall, the scent of incense permeates the air, creating an ethereal atmosphere. This ancient structure has a rich history, having been originally built in 628, but sadly destroyed by fires and World War II before being rebuilt in 1958.
Believers gather around a nearby fountain, using the smoke to cleanse their bodies and purify their hands. The fountain, adorned with intricately designed dragon sculptures, adds an element of mystique to the experience. For those seeking insights into their future, fortune-telling slips of paper are available for a small offering.
Upon entering the main hall, visitors are greeted by a captivating sculpture of bodhisattva Kannon, a revered figure known for relieving human suffering. Devotees stand before the inner sanctum, pressing their palms together in prayer, seeking solace and guidance.
The sound of clanging coins fills the air as visitors toss their offerings into a large bin at the foot of the bodhisattva, a symbolic gesture of respect and gratitude.
While the bustling crowds and change clanking in pockets may permeate the temple grounds, tranquillity can still be found in the quiet side streets. These streets, glistening like silver mackerel after a rain shower, offer a respite from the tourist throngs. A lone rickshaw stands as a testament to the traditional charm of the area.
As you explore further, an intriguing dark sign catches your eye, tucked beneath a tree limb. The sign invites you to discover the enshrinement of Benzai-ten, the goddess of fortune, music, wealth, and literature. The Benten-Do Temple, located on a small hill, serves as her sacred abode.
As I approached, I found myself as the only visitor in this serene sanctuary. The temple's black and gold doors were wide open, allowing the gentle summer breeze to permeate the space. Inside, a solitary candle flickered, casting a soft glow on the scene. A devoted priest knelt before the goddess, his shorn head a symbol of his commitment.
Standing outside, I couldn't help but gaze admiringly at the scene before me, feeling a sense of connection to the goddess of music, wealth, and literature.
If you're looking for hidden and serene shrines in Tokyo, you'll have to search a little harder to find them. In the upscale shopping district of Ginza, tucked away between two tall buildings at the end of an alley, lies Toyoiwa Inari, a shrine dedicated to the god of marriage. It's not easy to spot at first glance, as this red sanctuary guarded by regal fox statues stays camouflaged amidst a backdrop of brick streets and high-end boutiques.
The surrounding area of Toyoiwa Inari is adorned with luxurious mega department stores where both local Japanese brands and international labels coexist. While not as visually striking as the Aoyama district or as playful as Shibuya, Ginza offers a shopping experience that blends the best of both worlds. At Ginza Mitsukoshi, for example, you can find the French brand Lanvin selling pieces from their more affordable "only-in-Japan" line called Lanvin en Bleu, where you can score skirts for a fraction of their usual price.
Of course, in Tokyo, you don’t go to stores just to shop. At another Mitsukoshi, moments before opening, a woman in traditional Japanese clothing came outside and thanked shoppers for visiting. As the first wave of customers flooded the store, staff members on each floor bowed in unison.
Indeed, department stores are a must-see if only to gawk at basement food halls such as Mitsukoshi’s Ginza Food Garden, where the Paradox of Choice is in full effect thanks to display cases that dazzle with meticulously presented bento boxes, fluffy tempura plates, mochi, and chocolate discs adorned with edible pigs and bears.
Some of the most rewarding food is found in basements. In the labyrinthine bowels of Tokyo Station, in the Marunouchi business district, is a section known as Tokyo Ramen Street, the realm of top ramen makers, including Rokurinsha Toyko. At this modest restaurant, where the rumble of trains is offset by the slurping of contented customers, the line is routinely out the door.
I don’t know how I finally found the place, or what I ordered from the machine at the entrance. I looked at photos of ramen bowls and pushed a button. Or three. I put in yen. Some spat out. An attendant came over to help, then showed me to a banquette near other solo diners facing the open kitchen. Ramen of one sort or another was on its way.
Confusion is part of the Tokyo novice experience. It was a relief, at least for this traveler who likes to be in charge, to surrender to the unknown, to not have, or even know how to get, all the answers. Someone would always point me in the right direction. Or I would do the pointing — at photos of objects, at food, at myself. At Temomin Suite at the Tokyo International Forum, one of the city’s affordable walk-in massage shops, I stretched out in a cabana and pointed at my sore neck. The masseuse needed no further instruction.
There was something appealing about not speaking much. Communication was reduced to the bare essentials. No more, no less, than what needed to be said. And what couldn’t be said was expressed through looks and gestures, or simply forgotten.
Similarly, it was by observing that I learned how to eat whatever it was I ordered. At Rokurinsha on Tokyo Ramen Street I received two bowls: one with thick, chewy tsukemen (heavenly dipping noodles) and a soft-boiled egg; the other included broth, bones and nori (dried seaweed). I observed the technique of the woman next to me, also dining solo, as she held her egg aloft with chopsticks, then used a spoon to cradle it from below as she took a bite.
My experience in Tokyo was filled with endless entertainment options that catered to solo visitors, allowing me to fully immerse myself in the city's vibrant culture. From arcades to Kabuki shows, amusement parks like Tokyo Joypolis and Tokyo Dome City, and even unique cafes where maids cater to customers, there was never a shortage of things to do.
While the bustling nightlife of places like Shinjuku was captivating, I found solace in the early hours of the morning, joining the fishmongers as they prepared for the day ahead.
During my culinary adventure at Sushidai in the renowned Tsukiji market, the chef warmly engaged me in conversation, along with other diners from various regions. Despite the language barrier with the adjacent non-English speaking family, we all communicated fluently through our shared love for sushi. Each bite offered a symphony of flavors, as the chef expertly presented a generous assortment of vivid, moist fish varieties, including luxurious fatty tuna, snapper, sea eel, and mackerel.
The chef, sensing my enthusiasm, declared one particular fish his personal favorite, further enhancing my appreciation for this exquisite dining experience.
Compared to the sushi I had previously sampled, this encounter felt like an awakening. Gone were the pale and lackluster versions I was accustomed to back home, overshadowed by excessive toppings and sauces. The simplicity and purity of the freshly prepared sushi reaffirmed my newfound appreciation for its artistry.
As I savored each delectable piece, a kind woman attentively served me a comforting mug of green tea and a bowl of miso soup. The ambiance, though modest with small, backless stools, only added to the authenticity of the experience. A fleeting glance through the window reminded me that hungry onlookers eagerly awaited their turn for a taste of this culinary spectacle.
As the chef carefully placed a fresh piece of fish on the bar, he proudly declared its origin: Tokyo Bay, renowned for its delectable seafood.
While dining solo in Tokyo, I found myself embroiled in a moment of anxiety as I pursued the clam, supposedly "still alive," with a delicate piece of sea urchin. Concerns of potential allergies or fainting in a foreign land flooded my mind, reminding me of a Woody Allen-esque scenario. Acting swiftly, I fumbled for my iPhone and captured a screenshot of the crucial phrase "I need a doctor" from a Japanese language app.
Thankfully, my apprehensions proved unnecessary, and the meal continued to unfold. The skilled chef meticulously shaped the final pieces of sushi, each morsel divulging a world of flavors. With eloquence and grace, he described each creation in both Japanese and English, enhancing the experience. In gratitude, I bowed and expressed my thanks with a heartfelt "Domo arigato" to not only the chef but also the other two culinary maestros down the bar. As I departed through the sliding doors, blending into the bustling crowd, the chefs bid me farewell with their melodic voices.
WHEN YOU'RE THERE
Experience Tokyo from incredible altitudes at several observation decks. This includes the Tokyo Skytree, which can be found at tokyo-skytree.jp/en, as well as the iconic Tokyo Tower located at tokyotower.co.jp/eng. However, for a peaceful and less crowded experience, consider the Tokyo City View at the Roppongi Hills cultural center. This can be booked at roppongihills.com/tcv/en. I experienced a serene visit here, with minimal foot traffic. For those new to Tokyo, here's some information to help you get started.
Getting There
One can make use of the Narita Express (N’EX) train, which departs from Narita International Airport regularly. Tickets can be conveniently procured from JR East Travel Service Centers or their ticket offices. Furthermore, combination tickets encompassing subway, train, and bus services are available for purchase. For further information, please visit jreast.co.jp/e/nex. Please inquire at the counter for such comprehensive travel passes.
To make your travel within Tokyo effortless, it is recommended to utilize the Tokyo Subway Navigation for Tourists app, a free offering by Tokyo Metro. This app is specifically designed to help tourists navigate the vast subway network of Tokyo with ease. It's an indispensable tool for solo travellers in the city.
Dining
Outer Market, Tsukiji Fish Market, situated at 4-16-2 Tsukiji, Chuo-ku. For more details, visit tsukiji.or.jp/english.
The notable restaurant Sushidai is located nearby, at Tsukiji 6. Please carry some water and light refreshments with you.
Experience authentic Japanese cuisine at Rokurinsha Tokyo, on Tokyo Ramen Street, found at Tokyo Station Ichibangai B1, 1-9-1 Marunouchi, Chiyoda. Visit rokurinsha.com for more information.
.
Shop
Ginza Mitsukoshi, 104-8212 4-6-16, Ginza, Chuo-ku.
Aoyama District; Prada Tokyo Aoyama, 5-2-6 Minami-Aoyama, Minato-ku, prada.com.
Mandarake, Shibuya BEAM B2 floor, Udagawa-cho 31-2, Shibuya-ku.
Consider
Senso-ji Temple is located at 2-3-1 Asakusa, Taito-ku.
Travel insights are provided by Stephanie Rosenbloom, The Getaway commentator in the Travel section.