Tea and Jazz: Slowness in a City of Speed

Tokyo moves fast. Step foot on any subway line and you’re immediately swamped. If you think you’re in the clear at 11am on a Wednesday, think again.

The past few days I’ve revisited Tokyo from a different lens. The one familiar with most tourists.

Accompanying new travellers here can change your perspective entirely. You realise that, hey, you’ve kinda got the hang of this more than you think. You also appreciate once more the underemphasised culture shock that awaits non-Japanese speakers, and the overwhelm of full-scale Tokyo.

The past two days have been a sampling of Tokyo life. A surface-level skim, but with good contrast. It has been a worthwhile exercise for myself, too. It is easy to forget, but I hadn’t been in the megacity for nearly two months. It was actually refreshing to hit the tourist circuit in a way. In very small doses. To remember the joy that those locations and first-time experiences bring to so many. To return with a more nuanced understanding. To be reminded why I often yearn for the mountains, or the seaside, instead.

I can confirm that people still cross at Shibuya crossing. Catching the Yamanote line from Shinjuku still feels like an apocalyptic experience. Looking out over the metropolis at night never gets old, even if you have to line up for hours to see it. At the same time—moderation. Swept along by the relentless pace, your mind speeds up, too.

Staying at a hotel room for a change was nice. Although I’d still favour the homely facilities and lived-in feel of a homestay, or the social and cultural melting pot of a hostel most days—alongside my undeniable bargain-hunting tendencies—basking in a touch of luxury is comforting in doses as well. Mentally, it feels far more permissible and gratifying to simply do nothing when you have sweeping city views to gaze out at and a morning of aimless sightseeing in your legs. Yesterday, I did just that. Indulgently, I listened to some soft jazz and sipped a warm lemon tea, feet on the windowsill.

I find those specific activities fascinating. I love how such simple things immediately cultivate calm. They’re not expensive luxuries, yet they are objects with a mystique unto themselves. They are enjoyable for precisely what they are in that moment, but also exude an atmosphere that lingers long after consumption.

Slowing down feels nice. I might visit a jazz cafe this afternoon. I really cherish being able to play music, too. I don’t want that to ever fall by the wayside. Herbal tea is awesome as well. I don’t get analytical and guilty about my caffeine consumption and can just enjoy the drink, whenever I want.

I wrote most of this yesterday, but as I finish it now, I stare out at the still, wallpaper-like skyline. This morning—peaceful. Shrouded in rain. Passing trains provide blips of motion and colour every minute or so. Tokyo is cool. Our time here is nearly done, however. It feels sad. Like each train, just a blur. Logistics today. Flight tomorrow. Marathon the next. Work lies ahead. Hoping to soak up the city a little more along the way. Happy Friday everyone!