Four Days in Tokyo: Yoyogi and West Shinjuku

We woke up the second morning dreading much of the day we had ahead of us. Our bag had landed at the airport six hours after us the night before and we needed to take the train back out to pick it up. Our plan was to then head straight to Mt. Fuji from the airport, where we had an 82-person hostel dorm awaiting us. However, apparently neither of us had ever looked at a map relating Mt Fuji to Tokyo and Narita. 80 kilometers east of Tokyo lies the airport. 133 kilometers southwest lies the highest point in Japan. There is no “Narita to Mt. Fuji Express Train.” Our only option would be to head back from the airport on the same train, get off at the same station we were boarding from, and transfer to another train or bus from there. Knowing we had at least three hours of travel time getting to and from the airport, tacking another three hours on the other end meant our day in Mt. Fuji would be more like a few hours.

But we had a hostel reserved and losing $60 on the reservation didn’t sound too appealing either. Part of the reason why I almost never book anything in advance is exactly this. You never know what’s gonna happen and leaving stuff open-ended means you can have the freedom to change your mind at any moment. And change our minds we did. Willing to each give up $30 to have the comfort of a room in Tokyo for the next three days, and the ease of not having to change hotels three times during our four day trip was enough to sell us. We were tired of being on trains. We headed to the airport with a plan to book a hotel and Mt. Fuji quickly turned into a day-trip for another day.

yes, please.

Without relative incident we got our bag back and posted up in Narita to try to book a hotel. It’s as if the growing up never stops. Instead of choosing the cheapest option, we opted for comfort, privacy, and location. As a single person, a hotel room is vastly more expensive than a hostel. But as a couple, for about $15 more per person per night we found a great room at the Shinjuku Wasington Hotel with a king size bed on the 20th floor of a place that was so nice I felt like a homeless person walking in. The room was small, but that’s Tokyo for you.

We had once again lost most of our day to the Tokyo transit system, but with our last few hours of daylight we walked down to Yoyogi Park, famed for the Meiji Shrine. It is also said to have a full-on rockabilly group with greased hair and poodle skirts who sing there on Sundays, which was actually a bigger draw for me than the shrine. Unfortunately, we never found these rumored rockabillys and settled to wander the large, dense park as the afternoon swelled with humidity.

Torii Gate to Yoyogi Park

Walking through the gates of Yoyogi is like leaving the city entirely. The sounds of traffic fade almost instantly to the buzzing of insects and the occasional crow’s caw. The inside of the shrine was incredibly ornate but photos were not allowed so you will have to go see it for yourself. As a juxtaposition to the peace of the park, we also saw this prime piece of real estate just two blocks away. Nice View. And as an added bonus the train runs right beneath it as well.

By the time we had explored the park and the shrine I was getting hungry enough to injure someone and we made our way back towards Shinjuku searching for any kind of food along the way. After stumbling upon a delicious udon curry place and washing it down with a couple beers it was still only six-thirty and we had a decision to make. We felt like we had barely explored anything, but we were both incredibly wiped out. Not having eaten since the airport that morning, even the curry left me feeling weak. A few years ago I may have had another beer and powered through it, but as the adult I am now I voted to head back to the hotel to recoup. Hudson agreed.

A few hours, a couple bottles of wine, and some interesting Japanese television shows later we were both back at 100%. Had we not come back we would have been worthless and cranky after just a couple more hours of walking and drinking and probably would have been back in bed by ten. As it was, we ended up salvaging the night by not pushing ourselves too hard. By nine-thirty we were out the door and ready to explore the west side of Shinjuku which was more geared towards bars and gambling, and less on the hookers and sex clubs of the east side.

We walked without aim and stopped anywhere that seemed appealing. The first place we found ended up being our favorite place in Tokyo: Hermit Bar. After almost four months living in Seoul I have come to terms with the fact that whiskey isn’t a part of my life anymore. It’s available in some places, but when soju is only $1.50 a bottle, it’s hard to justify drinking anything else. Then we walked into this:

With over 100 whiskeys and scotches we were in heaven. While it wasn’t cheap, the prices ran similar to those found in the States and I was willing to pay almost anything for a glass of Colonel E.H. Taylor at this point. Seriously, they even had Pappy Van Winkle. In case you don’t know, this is an amazingly complex and delightful 20-year bourbon that is hard to find even in America. At ¥2000 (about $20) a shot, I couldn’t help myself.

We went from whiskey to darts to gambling, dipping into any place that caught our eyes, and as the city streets quieted and doors slowly began to close we stumbled our way back happily to the hotel down now darkened alleys. For every decision we had made that wasn’t part of the plan, they were the right ones. Having that flexibility while traveling, especially with a partner, is invaluable. We took the little calamities our trip had to offer and did what we had to do to make the most and best of our time.

Tomorrow would be our first full day to explore the city and we collapsed onto the bed in a mutual happiness that transformed quickly and effortlessly into a sound sleep. I couldn’t wait to see what else Tokyo had to offer. And we would definitely be going back to Hermit Bar for round two.