Matsuri Crowds

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 still wearing their ID badges because they escaped the office five minutes earlier. It’s a full house of humanity, wrapped in festival noise and grilled food aroma.

Even with that density of people, the flow stays surprisingly civil. Lines for food stalls look long but move with a steady rhythm, and folks quietly shuffle forward as if they’ve trained for it. You don’t get elbows in the ribs or the chaotic swirl you might brace for at a big Western street festival.

You still get the occasional congestion — the kind where everyone stops because someone spotted a taiko performance — but the crowd gently compresses instead of folding into a confusion of complaints. It feels like being part of a giant, good-natured murmuration. For a photographer like me, it’s a great balance: dense energy, colourful scenes, and just enough space to raise the camera without taking someone’s shaved ice to the face.