When I booked my Tokyo trip I honestly expected Tokyo to be Tokyo: bright lights, frantic crosswalks, top-tier food, and packed streets where every corner feels like it demands your attention. I was ready for the hum of the city, the relentless pace, and yes, the sensory overload.
But what surprised me was how gentle parts of Tokyo could be – not quiet in the obvious sense, but welcoming in that oddly grounding, human way that turns travel from a checklist into a story you carry with you.
A Place to Breathe and a Place to Feel Tokyo
First on my trip, I stayed at the Shiba Park Hotel. I chose it because it’s tucked near Shiba Park and just minutes from Tokyo Tower, but what I found inside felt like a secret Tokyo I didn’t know I was looking for. The hotel has been completely reimagined as a “library hotel” with about 1,500 books spread throughout the common spaces – the library lounge, the central staircase, even tiny reading nooks on guest floors – all curated by Ginza Tsutaya Books with titles on Japanese culture, architecture, photography, art and more.
Walking into that lounge with a cup of tea felt completely natural. There’s soft music, a fireplace in the library area, and this calm, unforced sense of curiosity that makes you want to pick up a book and just stay a little longer. You can borrow books and bring them back to your room, or carry one down to “The Dining” for afternoon tea alongside whatever seasonal sweets and savoury bites they’re serving.
By contrast, its sister hotel, the Park Hotel Tokyo, felt like staying inside Tokyo’s personality – vibrant, thoughtful, and surprisingly calm all at once. The hotel occupies the 25th to 34th floors of the Shiodome Media Tower and feels like an art gallery in the sky. There are over 400 pieces of modern art displayed in the lobby, corridors and common spaces, and 44 “Artist Rooms” where local artists have painted the walls so each room feels like a small exhibition you get to sleep in.
The views alone are worth mentioning. From up there you can see Tokyo Tower and, on clear days, even Mount Fuji. But what makes the stay truly different is how integrated the art is with the hospitality. It’s not just framed prints on a wall, it’s a living, constantly evolving collection that actually influences the feeling of wandering through the hotel.
One of my favourite discoveries there was the table-style tea ceremony experience in the atrium on the 25th floor. It’s not a formal tea room with tatami mats and silence, but instead a gentle, thoughtfully paced ritual surrounded by contemporary art and big windows with sky and city beyond. You learn a bit about the history and etiquette of sado, try matcha with traditional sweets, and there’s this real quietness in the simple gestures that feels like a bridge between the city outside and the stillness in your cup.
It was such a nice counterpoint to the rest of Tokyo, and having it up above the city in this art‑filled space made it feel personal instead of performative. The whole stay never felt rushed; it felt like an unfolding. I loved that about it.
Tea, Ritual, and Wearing Kimono
Tea ceremonies blew my mind on this trip. In Kyoto I learned how being present changes everything; in Tokyo the ceremonies taught me how context shapes presence.
Kimono Tea Ceremony in Asakusa
First, there was the quiet, deeply memorable kimono tea ceremony in Asakusa. When I first arrived, one of the women took me aside to help dress me, and honestly, I didn’t realise how complex a kimono actually is (or how tight!). She adjusted every layer carefully and made sure it all sat properly.
After that we went into the tea room, where aour host explained the space to us. She pointed out the hanging scroll and the small alcove with the flowers, and talked about that Japanese phrase that always sticks with me: one moment, one meeting. Hearing it explained while sitting there, wrapped in a kimono, made it feel real instead of philosophical.
At the end they even gave me a pair of socks to take home, which I loved. It felt like such a small thing, but it made the whole experience feel thoughtful and personal, right down to the details. I’m actually wearing them as I type.
Wabunka Tea Ceremony
I also joined a Wabunka tea ceremony experience, hosted in a tea master’s own space.
The Wabunka tea ceremony felt completely different to the others because you’re going into someone’s actual home. The house is in a really beautiful residential area with little shops nearby, so even arriving there feels calm. I got there early and ended up watching the end of a lesson with their students, which I didn’t expect but found so interesting – seeing how precise and detailed everything was made me appreciate how much discipline and care goes into the practice.
One of the masters gave me strawberry tea while I waited, which was such a nice touch and immediately made me feel welcome. When the ceremony started, we tried both usucha and koicha, and we also learned how to make the tea ourselves.
The tea masters are from the Urasenke school, which traces back to Sen no Rikyū, and you can feel that history without it being heavy or intimidating. We also tried different types of wagashi, both the soft seasonal ones and the harder dried ones. By this point in the trip I had tried wagashi at a few ceremonies, so I could really notice the differences (they were delicious, and everything had a meaning, even down to the wagashi design). I ended up staying longer than expected, just talking and asking questions. It was quiet, beautiful, and one of the most grounding experiences of the whole trip.
Food That Introduces You to the City
Tokyo can eat you alive if you let it, especially if you’re a foodie. But the best way I found to digest Tokyo was through guided tours that taught me not just where to eat, but why these foods matter.
Culinary Backstreets Tokyo
The Culinary Backstreets Tokyo tour with my guide Phoebe was genuinely unforgettable, and easily the best food tour I’ve ever been on. I’ve been on Culinary Backstreets tours before and I already knew I loved them, but this one felt especially special.
There was none of that awkward tour energy where you feel like you’re being herded from stop to stop. With Phoebe, we walked, talked, ate, and lingered. By the end of the day, it honestly felt like I’d spent it with a friend showing me their favourite places rather than a guide doing a job.
The food itself was incredible. We tried yakitori, local sake, traditional miso, handmade senbei, and even fugu (puffer fish), which still feels slightly wild to say out loud. And the sushi we had was, without exaggeration, the best sushi of my life. It was delicate and fresh and thoughtful, and I will be dreaming about it from this day on.
What really made the tour stand out, though, was how personal it was: Phoebe knows people. One of the most memorable moments was visiting an elderly woman who makes traditional senbei. We didn’t just buy them from a counter, instead, we went inside her shop, saw where they’re made, and even drank tea together. She showed us photos, including family celebrations and pictures of her late husband. It felt intimate in a way you don’t expect when you book a food tour, and of course I bought senbei from her.
There was also a miso tasting where, again, Phoebe knew the person running it. We tasted different kinds of miso, learned how varied they can be, and then he made miso soup for us using the ones we’d tried. We also sampled small miso-based dishes, and suddenly something I’d always thought of as just an ingredient became this whole universe of flavour, time, and craft.
Walking through neighbourhoods that most guidebooks barely whisper about, eating food made by people who clearly cared about what they were doing, and being trusted enough to step behind the scenes made the whole experience feel rare. When another guest on the tour wanted to try milk from one of the shops, Phoebe got it for him, and when we all wanted a sip of matcha, she got us a round. Culinary Backstreets is a tour that you can always trust to get it right.
I’ve been on other fab Culinary Backstreets tours, including one in Istanbul that really kicked off my love for them, and I honestly will always choose them when I travel. But this Tokyo tour with Phoebe was something else: it reminded me why I travel the way I do, and why food, when it’s shared properly, can tell you more about a place than almost anything else.
I bloody love Culinary Backstreets.
Magical Trip Vegan Shibuya Tour
The vegan food tour with MagicalTrip was one of those unexpected highlights. We walked through Shibuya with our guide sampling plant-based foods that felt authentically Japanese and interesting, not like vegan versions of Western dishes. The tour includes a sushi set big enough for a full dinner, so this wasn’t just snacks, it was food that actually fills you up and feels like a meal. We also stopped for vegan okonomiyaki, a savoury pancake cooked on a hot plate right in front of us, which was fun to watch, and the taste was deeply satisfying.
The guide, Tossy, was so lovely that by the end of the night we were all hanging out longer than we planned, chatting and laughing in a vegan cafe like we were with a friend, not on a tour. It totally changed how I thought about vegan food in Tokyo and made me feel like I had a real taste of local life through food.
MagicalTrip Cooking Class
The home cooking class with MagicalTrip was also amazing, especially because I took my mum, who is a chef back home but doesn’t know much about Japanese cuisine.
First we went together to a local supermarket, picking out our ingredients with a guide who explained how to choose the freshest vegetables and fish. After that, we moved into a cosy kitchen space near Asakusa, where we made five different dishes, including hand-rolled sushi, teriyaki chicken balls, dashimaki tamago (a kind of Japanese rolled omelette), and an eggplant dengaku dish. It was hands-on the whole time, which made it fun instead of intimidating.
At the end, we sat down together to eat what we had just cooked and tried a few sakes to pair with our meal. It honestly changed how I think about Japanese home cooking – it’s simple but thoughtful, and every ingredient felt intentional. My mum, who can be very critical about technique, told me it was one of the most interesting cooking experiences she’s done because she learned new ways to think about flavour and balance. That afternoon ended up feeling like less of a class and more like cooking with family in someone’s kitchen.
A Quick Escape That Was Anything But Quick
Halfway through my Tokyo stay I took a two-day trip to Fuji and stayed at Shoji Lake Hotel. It felt like falling asleep with the city still humming somewhere in my body and waking up to actual, complete quiet.
Shoji Lake Hotel sits right on the lake near Mount Fuji, and waking up there really showed me how powerful the absence of noise can be. The air was cool and crisp, everything felt slower, and the views were almost unreal. Mornings were spent with tea by the water, just watching the lake, and it made me appreciate Tokyo’s pace even more when I eventually went back. The sauna and onsen were an added bonus, especially after long days of walking.
I stayed in a traditional Japanese room, and waking up at sunrise and seeing Mount Fuji through the window is something I don’t think I’ll ever forget. I just sat there drinking tea, watching the light change, feeling unbelievably lucky. It was genuinely one of the loveliest experiences I’ve ever had, and I truly cannot recommend staying there enough.
Why This Felt Like More Than Just a Trip
Tokyo didn’t just happen to me. It invited me in.
From serene mornings in thoughtful hotels to tea ceremonies that reshaped how I sip matcha, from walking backstreets with Phoebe and trying sushi that startled me (in the best way) to vegan food tours that were unexpectedly delicious, every part of this trip felt shared rather than rushed.
By the time I left, Tokyo wasn’t just another checkmark on my itinerary. It was a collection of conversations with food, with strangers who became guides, with ritual and place, and with myself <3
