TOKYOworldtravellermagazine.com 45On my first morning, the crush of
Shibuya, the trendy shopping district,
left me breathless. At the famed Shibuya
crossing, the illuminated, advert-flooded
intersection — Piccadilly Circus on
steroids — crowds scurried like ants
across zebra crossings. Every direction
provided a fresh assault: hole-in-the-
wall katsu curry bars, their plastic food
displays pulling weary-eyed tourists
into dingy basements; CD emporiums
pumping out syrupy J-pop tunes; queues
snaking from $2 sushi joints; purple-
haired girls chattering outside malls.
Of course, in Tokyo, the gaudy chaos
is a ‘sight’ in itself — so, despite the
hectic scene, I progressed. Rubbing the
jet lag from my eyes, I wove through the
thicket, heading north past lanes lined
with shoe shops and towering homeware
stores. I passed through the vintage
boutiques of rammed, pedestrianised
Cat Street; I perused the bizarre anime
merchandise at bewildering mega-
shop Kiddy Land. Before long I was
in Harajuku, Tokyo’s teen-fashion
epicentre, and bravely turned left onto
Takeshita Street. Whatever madness
had come before, it had nothing on this:
hundreds, no thousands, of kids, a tidal
wave rushing into discount sunglasses
shops and out of cat cafés. Music was
blaring from every direction; cloud-
like puffs of rainbow cotton candy and
bags of chocolate-smothered crisps
were passed around by the dozen.
And then, as if it wasn’t squeezy
enough, along came a matsuri – a
traditional Japanese festival procession.
Where men and women in traditional
happi coats bounced a golden shrine
through the crowd, chanting excitedly.
Once I reached the end of the street —
it was just 400m, but it took more than
an hour — I siphoned myself off from
the human tide. I could have carried
on with the flow, bound for the famed
Meiji shrine, a grand series of wooden
buildings in a sprawling nearby park.
But experience told me that today — a
Saturday — any sliver of tranquillity
would be shattered by camera-clicking
hordes and ooh-aahing tourists. I wasn’t
22 anymore, and rather than more
insanity, what I needed was a break.
I fixed a quick plan: after a 20-minute
zip on the metro, I stepped out from
Gokokuji station, in central Tokyo’s‘
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