Tori-no-Ichi at Ohtori Shrine near Sugamo has a cosy, neighbourhood mood that feels different from the big Asakusa version. The lanterns glow softly along the narrow approach, and the air smells of grilled squid, sweet amazake and those smoky little charcoal stoves the food vendors love. You tend to follow the crowd without really knowing…
At a matsuri you end up drifting through crowds that feel as if the whole town has emptied itself into the lantern-lit streets. You get teenagers in yukata glued to their phones, elderly couples strolling at a pace that would confuse a stopwatch, kids darting around like they’ve just discovered sugar exists, and office workers…
Matsuri food is one of the best parts of any Japanese festival: smoky, noisy, and packed with colour and aroma. Walking down a street lined with yatai (food stalls) feels like stepping into a different sensory universe. Each stand has its own speciality, and while some stalls go for traditional festival classics like grilled squid…
The Leica 50 mm Summilux Classic brings out a cinematic depth. Its slightly lower contrast and gentle spherical aberrations give street lights a blooming halo, turning neon signs into glowing brushstrokes. The focus fall-off feels almost liquid, so the crowd moving under the railway arches fades into soft blurs that look more like memory than…
Sugamo Station’s platform around 18:00 feels like a crossroads of Tokyo’s everyday rhythm. The air hums with the sound of incoming trains and the chatter of students in their uniforms, laughing in small groups as they head home. Office employees move through the crowd with quiet precision, some glued to their phones, others loosening their…
There’s something oddly hypnotic about a Japanese railway crossing at dusk. The warning bells — that unmistakable ding ding ding — echo through the quiet streets, a sound so familiar across Japan that it feels like part of the country’s heartbeat. The red lights flash in perfect rhythm, reflecting off the yellow-and-black striped barriers as they lower…
All over Japan, the same rhythm plays out. At noon sharp, pavements flood with salarymen, dark suits moving in sync towards noodle shops, curry counters, and cafés. Ten minutes before or after it’s calm, but on the hour every seat vanishes, queues curling onto the street. If you want to eat in peace, slip in…
Sunflowers: the bright yellow petals and the dark, seed-packed centers are a giveaway. These are most likely Helianthus annuus (the common sunflower). They’re famous for heliotropism: when young, they track the sun across the sky like a bunch of floral solar panels; once mature, though, they stop moving. Each “flower” is actually a whole community of flowers. The…
The south exit of Yoyogi Station feels modest compared to its giant neighbour Shinjuku, but it comes alive after dark. A few narrow streets spill out from the ticket gates, lined with low-key izakayas that glow with paper lanterns once the evening sets in. Office workers often drift over after work, packing into these small…
Driving on elevated highways in Tokyo during the rainy season is a distinct experience—part cyberpunk film, part urban meditation. The rain doesn’t fall gently; it sheets down the windscreen, a constant barrage that the wipers fight in a rhythmic frenzy. These roads often run surprisingly narrow for what you’d expect of a major city. Many…
