Tokyo: The City We Fell Hard For

We landed in Tokyo for the first time in 2024, never imagining we’d book a flight back exactly one year later.

But that’s the thing about Tokyo. The city doesn’t just impress you. It pulls you in completely.

For me, it started at the airport bathroom.

Ten minutes after landing, I was already telling my family to go ahead without me because I needed a moment alone to process what can only be described as the most elite restroom experience of my life.

Brightly lit. Spotless. Constantly cleaned. A tiny baby seat built directly into the stall wall like someone had thoughtfully considered every possible human scenario. And then, of course, the Japanese toilet itself.

The white noise button? Simple yet genius.

I had never felt genuine delight inside a restroom before. Tokyo had officially humbled me within minutes of arrival.

By the time we reached The Okura Tokyo, I was already completely enchanted.

Cherry blossoms and a warm, smiling hotel staff welcomed us into the lobby. Our room overlooked the city through massive floor-to-ceiling windows that made me feel like I’d wandered directly into Lost in Translation. 

The entire hotel felt impossibly calm, polished, and intentional — the kind of place that quietly ruins you for future hotels forever.

If I were a billionaire, I’d for sure move in permanently.

Jet lag hit us hard. The first night, we were asleep by 7:30pm and wide awake by 4am, which somehow worked out perfectly because Tokyo at sunrise feels like discovering a secret version of the city.

Shibuya Crossing (I made them cross at least 10 times)

Our first morning, still fully operating on confused body clocks and 7-11 snacks (which, as you may have heard, are delicious!!), we made our way to the old Tsukiji fish market just as vendors were setting up for the day. Generational storefronts slowly came alive around us with fresh catches, steaming broths, and the quiet rhythm of people who had repeated these routines thousands of times before.

We wandered into a tiny 24-hour sushi restaurant and squeezed ourselves along the counter.

iPads translated the menu into English while chefs moved with mesmerizing speed behind the bar. We proudly rotated through the only Japanese phrases we had confidently mastered (arigato gozaimasu and oishii), which earned us smiles that felt both encouraging and slightly amused.

And somehow, less than 24 hours into the trip, this already felt like exactly where we were supposed to be.

I quickly discovered that my favorite part of our daily exploration was, very unexpectedly, the train. From someone who lived on the Manhattan subway system in their early 20s, and became used to my head leaning in someone’s onion-scented armpit, while insanely large vermin greeted me upon arrival, this was Disneyland.

From the station to the train car, everything felt impossibly orderly: immaculate restrooms, spotless cars, quiet passengers, courtesy built into every interaction. It became therapeutic to sit in silence, stare out the window, and take in the calm rhythm around us.

Sitting…and staring…in silence, on the train :)

I think the best part for me, as a mom of two who can cat fight forever, was seeing them find their calm state too. Our first ride consisted of, “His elbow is on me!” “She said I wasn’t Japanese!” Sorry bud, you’re not. And of course, “Can I have the phone?” Nope.

What started as annoyance slowly transformed into patience, and eventually, a kind of serenity. By our third train ride, they took out their sketchbooks and journals, and soaked in the silence.

Opposite of silent? The neighborhood that radiates sunshine, creativity, originality, and everything fun in the world: Harajuku. My daughter and I shopped solo for an hour and had a total, total blast perusing vintage shops, the Hello Kitty cafe, and the scent of the jumbo rainbow cotton candy shop still lingers in my soul, along with the sticky sugary sweetness on my fingertips. Pure delectable bliss. And of course we posted in a photo booth. 

Harajuku!

After thoroughly overstimulating all five senses, we took another train to Akihabara and basically Oregon Trailed our way back into childhood.

Floor after floor overflowed with vintage games, collectibles, blinking arcades, and enough nostalgia to emotionally destabilize anyone raised in the Nintendo era. One seven-story gaming building completely blew my Duck Hunt-loving inner child away.

And now, I will stop for absolutely any claw machine arcade.

One of the many reasons we wander and loosely plan each day is because the best travel stories usually haven’t happened yet.

In true Mel fashion, I confidently booked a cherry blossom boat tour through the stunning Nakameguro neighborhood. During our first Tokyo trip, we had arrived slightly before peak bloom, but I was convinced this was going to be our magical cherry blossom moment.

Walking toward the boat, we looked up to see dark gray skies as the rain started coming down harder by the second.

“Are we seriously doing a boat ride in this?”  

“Um, yes! It’ll be great!” “Look! Ponchos! They thought of everything!”

My family reluctantly climbed into the tiny open-air boat wearing clear plastic ponchos and the exact expressions you’d expect from people who fully believed I had lost my mind.

And another small issue arose: I had accidentally booked the entire tour in Japanese.

So not only did we not understand a single word, but during our highly anticipated cherry blossom tour… there was exactly one cherry blossom in bloom.

However (a big however), the rain made the canal feel cinematic, the ponchos made epic fashion statements, and we laughed the entire ride. I still consider this one a personal victory. 

Japanese-Speaking Boat Tour, in the Rain :)

We spent an enormous amount of time eating and exploring temples, which honestly felt like the ideal way to experience Tokyo. Inside the Senso-ji temple in Asakusa, everything slowed me down. More grounding than any beach yoga shavasana I’ve ever attempted. Somehow, my whole family felt it too.

A different type of euphoria that one might wish for mushrooms while exploring is teamLAB, a mind-blowing art installation experience located in the electric-at-night Roppongi neighborhood. TeamLAB felt like stepping into a surreal alternate dimension where every room completely hijacks your senses. You’re not fighting people to see the art, you’re joining them on an artistic revelation. 

One of the many rooms in teamLAB

And somehow, like everywhere else in Tokyo, there wasn’t a single piece of trash in sight.

Tokyo’s quiet cultural codes, no eating while walking, no public trash cans, courtesy everywhere, completely fascinated me. I spent most days carrying an empty Pocari Sweat bottle around in my tote bag like a treasured possession. 

When we sauntered along the enchanting paths in Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden (where everything was in bloom!), I realized how badly I wanted a coffee. I saw a little shop in the middle of the park and satisfied my caffeine craving. What I failed to calculate was the fact that I couldn’t continue walking with said coffee, so what started as an inconvenience (“Ugh, Mom.”), turned into a core memory:

The four of us sitting on the grass, chatting about nothing and everything, beneath fairytale cherry blossom canopies. 

Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden where we finally experienced the full Blume :)