Good afternoon,
We're in full winter mode in Tokyo—not the cozy kind with snow, but the kind where air conditioners run all night,1 socks are required for bed, the last remaining fall leaves look more sad than vibrant, and the subway entrances seem more inviting after work—despite knowing I'll be squeezed among hundreds of commuters—than the otherwise pleasurable walk to the train station, where I’m guaranteed a seat in the train. And I adore it.
This fall, I've been away from Tokyo and home for a little longer than usual. There were weekend trips to see the fall colors, followed by city breaks with very close and dear friends from Turkey—such an energizing time, experiencing Japan through their eyes. I also hiked the Kyoto Trail and had an unusually long work trip to Bohol, Philippines, a place so full of life that it completely blew my mind.
After all this time away, being back in Tokyo and waking up in my own home feels as exciting as being on a great trip. I’m also glad this isn’t a season of vibrant fall colors, heart-stirring sakura, or heart-warming snow. The blandness of nature in early December gives me a sense of calm (unlike my restless state of FOMO during the fall color season) and space to appreciate and enjoy Tokyo for what it truly is: a reliable, exceptionally well-functioning city of 23 wards, each with its unique character and an unexpectedly warm sense of community.
As a city that doesn’t interfere with your life but quietly supports it with underlying economic and social infrastructure functioning so seamlessly that you hardly notice, Tokyo offers a lot of space to focus on what matters—not necessarily literally (more on small apartments below), but definitely figuratively. It is not one of those cities (like the beloved one I’m from) where merely living demands so much energy and resources that you inevitably question whether it’s worth it. Instead, Tokyo, in my experience, prefers to remain in the background, not taking center stage unless you want it to.
So, after all these terms of endearment, you might have guessed that this final 2024 edition of Letters from Japan is more about home than travel, focusing on Tokyo—and more specifically, on the neighborhood where I live. There is also a short announcement at the end for a new travel diaries series—spoiler alert: a winter train trip through Hokkaido.
Tiny Tokyo homes
Tokyo is often labeled as one of the most expensive cities in the world, a premise I find debatable. It’s also infamous for its tiny apartments—definitely less debatable—which, judging by the number of YouTube videos, attract a lot of curiosity. So, while my apartment isn’t small enough to deserve a New York Times feature, it might still be the ideal place to start this ironically 'domestic bliss' focused edition of a travel newsletter before moving on to the neighborhood.
I live in a 37-square-meter apartment, which, while considered mid-size for single living in Tokyo, still feels shockingly small to many visitors not used to Japan's compact spaces. It's on the second floor of a three-story wooden building, with large windows that let in plenty of light—helping to keep my plants alive despite my absent parenting. It also keeps me connected to the outside world and the (often) gentle street sounds, which I happily welcome as a household of one.
My home is in the eastern part of Tokyo, near the Edogawa River, in an old neighborhood around Shibamata, which is part of shitamachi (下町), meaning 'low city' in Japanese.
In the past (and still to some extent), the eastern part of Tokyo was known as the home of working-class merchants and artisans—Shitamachi, in contrast to the more affluent Yamanote, occupying the western side of Tokyo and, which was home to the upper class.
The Eastern Tokyo neighborhoods, once known as ‘low cities,’ are now celebrated for their old Tokyo charm and retro vibe.2 Many of them, especially the less central ones like mine, in addition to their nostalgic charm, stand out for the absence of trendy coffee shops, restaurants, and stores. In my neighborhood, you're more likely to find a very old kissaten than a third-wave coffee shop, walking (and often failing) the fine line between being a retro heaven and an unappealingly worn-out shop.
The buildings are mostly low-rise, the alleys narrower, and the shotengai still serves as an active shopping venue rather than just a sightseeing spot. At 43, I’m probably one of the youngest residents. Thanks to the many retired locals, it’s not one of those neighborhoods where you rarely see anyone during the day. There’s street activity all day long, starting with the 4 a.m. commuters and ending with the karaoke bar crowd at around 2 a.m., who either sound too happy about life or raging mad at it.
While the entertainment options may feel too limited for a younger person, the overall atmosphere works perfectly for me. After living most of my adult life in the heart of one of the busiest and most chaotic cities in the world, I had long passed the phase of urban FOMO and did not feel the need to be in the middle of the action, especially if it meant a little bit more space.
In terms of costs, as a single person with no kids, I may not be the best person to realistically comment on the affordability of Tokyo, given that my mandatory expenses are fairly limited. However, one thing I can confidently say is that Tokyo, with its uniformly high public service and safety standards across all 23 wards, has allowed me to downsize my life and expenses quite substantially while still maintaining a very decent quality of daily life. I pay just over 100,000 yen (USD 650) a month for my apartment and electricity, gas, water, and internet bills.
Tokyo`s largest public park
One of the biggest draws of my neighborhood is its proximity to Mizumoto Park, the largest public park in Tokyo. Just a 15-minute bike ride from my home, it’s, in my view, one of the best spots to enjoy Sakura in the city. Covering almost one million square meters—large enough to make you forget you’re in one of the world’s densest cities—the park is home to hundreds of cherry trees. Even at the peak of Sakura season, it never feels as crowded as other parks or gardens.
There is also a lotus pond that comes to life each year in mid-July. While Ueno Park is the more popular destination with its expansive pond and central location, the smaller lotus pond in Mizumoto Park offers a quieter, crowd-free experience. If you’re looking to enjoy these beautiful flowers in peace, it’s worth a visit.
The park also features a bird sanctuary, making it a popular spot for birdwatchers (a very popular activity in Japan) and photographers. I often come across groups of dedicated photographers equipped with massive zoom lenses—sometimes as large as 400mm—patiently waiting for the perfect shot. Their devotion to bird photography always impresses me; carrying those heavy lenses around and biking with them might take a lot of effort.
The Edo River
There’s also the Edo River, just a 10-minute walk from my home, which divides Tokyo and Chiba Prefectures. There is a long bike and running track that runs alongside it, in addition to baseball fields that host players of all ages on the weekends. I used to frequent the riverside, especially the vast grassy area, for picnics, but I haven’t been there in a while.
Due to the flood risk, the measures taken to minimize it, and a nearby sewage treatment plant, the river has more of an industrial feel than an idyllic one. Still, I appreciate having quick access to such expansive grasslands and the river. While I’ve never tried it myself, I occasionally see SUP paddlers or people drifting along the river in small boats, which momentarily makes the scenery feel a little more idyllic.
Taishakuten Temple
The neighborhood is, in fact, also a popular sightseeing spot, mainly for Japanese visitors.3 Its main draw is being the home of Tora-san, the main character in an old Japanese movie series (Otoko wa Tsurai yo), with the Buddhist Taishakuten Temple, established in the 17th century and rebuilt in 1929, coming right after it.
The temple, which escaped the bombs during World War II, is entered through the impressive Nitenmon Gate. Inside the temple, you get a close-up view of beautiful wood carvings depicting stories from the Lotus Sutra, sculpted by different artists including locals.
Taishakuten and its surrounding area are included in the 100 Soundscapes of Japan list published by the Ministry of Environment, which aims to promote the discovery of everyday sounds, combat noise pollution, and pass these beautiful sounds on to future generations. While the list is dominated primarily by the sounds of nature, it also includes cultural (and, thus, Taishakuten) and craft-making sounds.
The street leading to the temple is lined with souvenir shops and a few popular unagi restaurants. As I'm not a big fan of unagi, I prefer Yamamoto-tei, a traditional tea house, for its secluded atmosphere and a more easily digestible tea.
This concludes our tour of some of the features that make my neighborhood an ideal place for me to live, though I’m not always making the most of them. But I hope this brief tour inspires you to consider visiting Shibamata on your next trip to Tokyo to experience a different, more retro side of the city.
This was the final 2024 edition of Letters from Japan, but I’ll be back with more posts in the travel diaries series before the year ends. This year, I will not be traveling back to Istanbul during the winter break (but I’m thrilled that my mother will be visiting in early January).
For late December, I am planning a train trip through Hokkaido, starting in Biei on December 21st—the first day of our two-week winter break at work. I thought, what better way to do justice to the longest night of the year than by spending it in one of the most beautiful winter towns I’ve been to? From there, I plan to chase the snowy landscapes, traveling by train, with possible stops in Abashiri and Kushiro. I’ll send out a short announcement email before the diary posts begin, with part of the series reserved for monthly and annual subscribers, similar to the Kyoto Trail series.
As always, thank you for being here. One of the greatest joys of 2024 for me has been finding the support and inspiration to focus more on this newsletter, starting the travel diaries series, and connecting with many of you through our shared love for Japan and travel—none of it would have been possible without your support and willingness to read and engage. Thank you.
Until next time,
Burcu
Central heating is not a common feature of Tokyo buildings.
While neighborhoods like Asakusa, Ueno, and Yanaka have modern amenities due to their central location and popularity, they are still considered shitamachi.
Who voted for Taishakuten and the surrounding area to be included in the list of 100 Landscapes of Japan: 100 Landscapes of Japan.
Your photography is inspiring. Enjoying all your stories too.
Thank you for the article, it is very inspiring!