TOKYO.
Tokyo is endless - layer upon layer of beauty and brutality, precision and madness. A city where the future hums from glowing screens and vending machines that sell everything you never knew you needed, and the past lingers quietly in stone shrines and the soft rustle of noren curtains in dim alleyways. It’s ramen eaten standing up at 2 a.m., grilled yakitori savoured in smoke-choked izakayas, the salty sting of soy, miso, and broth clinging to your clothes. Tokyo doesn’t care about your expectations or your sense of order. It’s too big, too fast, too old to explain itself. You don’t conquer this city - you surrender to it. And in that surrender, if you’re lucky, you taste something real. Something unforgettable.
EAT.
Yakitori Sei isn’t the kind of place you find by chance. It’s tucked away in Meguro, quiet, unadorned - a plain doorway, a handful of seats, and the low, steady scent of charcoal pulling you in like a promise. No neon. No spectacle. Just fire, salt, smoke, and the slow, practiced craft of a master who’s spent decades perfecting one simple thing. Skewers of chicken grilled to blistered, golden perfection - liver rich and silky, skin crisp and crackling, thighs tender and full of clean, honest flavour. Cold beer, poured slowly and right. The low hum of quiet conversation. No hurry. No flash. The chef moves with the patience of a monk, turning each stick like a prayer, mind fixed on the fire.
Why we liked it: From the moment we sat down, it was abundantly clear we were a long way from home (in a good way!). Perfect food, perfect drinks, perfect service.
In our opinion, the best place to go for a drink in Tokyo is one of the many Konbinis to buy a beer and wander the streets. But if you’re looking for somewhere that offers the comforts of a bar, Hitachino Brewing Lab is where craft beer gets real in Tokyo. This is experimentation on a tightrope: yuzu and ginger, barley and yeast, all tossed together with a fearless grin. It’s a place fuelled by obsession and a refusal to settle for safe.
Why we liked it: A peaceful moment in a frantic day. Cracking pint and a brilliant atmosphere both inside and out. All of the good bits of a British pub, but with Japanese hospitality.
DRINK.
DISCOVER.
Sensoji Temple doesn’t whisper - it roars. The massive crimson gate stands like a sentinel, worn but unbowed, guarding a world where centuries of faith crash headlong into the chaos of the present. The air is thick with incense and the sharp, sweet smell of street food frying just steps away. This isn’t a museum piece wrapped in velvet ropes - it’s a raw, pulsing place where the sacred rubs elbows with the everyday, where prayers and commerce collide in a dance as old as the city itself. Sensoji grabs you by the collar and drags you into the messy heart of Tokyo’s soul.
Why we liked it: We saw it both in the day and night. While it was breathtaking in the daylight, by night the temple and surrounding area take on a different character. Serene, calm, and perfectly lit. A true highlight of our Japan trip.
