I’ll say it without hesitation: Japan has been the best trip of my life. And I can’t tell it all in one sitting. Japan demands pauses, chapters, space to give every detail its place. In this first installment, I’ll stick with Tokyo: the landing, the cultural shocks that disarmed me (in a good way), and those postcards that, even if you’ve seen them a thousand times, feel brand new when you live them.
The flight is long. Between air and time zones (Japan is usually 15 hours ahead of Mexico), you feel like you’ve worked two days straight without rest. But once you land, from the very first minute, you’re welcomed into another way of being in the world.
Right off the bat, the guide told us: “Leave your suitcases, go change money, do what you need.” Who’s watching the luggage? Nobody. And nobody needs to. That was the first jolt: in Japan, security is part of the air you breathe. The nameless suitcases were loaded into a different truck. And you trust. You trust because here trust isn’t naïve—it’s habit.
You also notice something else: unlike countries marked by multiculturalism, in Japan daily life is very Japanese. The workforce is mostly local, and it’s rare to see foreigners working. Immigration exists, of course, but it’s much more limited than in other places I’ve visited.
Our first stop was a Shintoist temple. In Japan, Shintoism and Buddhism coexist, and visiting a temple is almost inevitable. This first one, however, didn’t blow me away. Beautiful, yes. Impressive, not really. A couple of photos and we moved on.
Between the airport and the temple you already sense Tokyo’s density, its scale, its strange order. But that first temple was a reminder: not everything is epiphany; sometimes wonder takes time.
Then came Shibuya. That crosswalk you see on every postcard—the famous Scramble Crossing—that, when you see it, confirms: yes, you’re in Tokyo. We walked, breathed in the tide of people, found Hachiko, and I realized I’m more urban than contemplative: the city fuels me.
Our first Seven Eleven made us smile: eating well at a convenience store, with fair prices and impeccable quality, is one of those Japanese luxuries you should embrace guilt-free. Too bad the tour rushed us: thirty minutes isn’t enough. We came back days later, at our own pace, and the area gave us another face, by day and by night.
Akihabara is the ultimate otaku district. Anime shops, video games, figurines, endless arcades. Neither my wife nor I are anime fans; what we know is what we watched as kids: Dragon Ball, Pokémon, Yu-Gi-Oh. Still, we enjoyed it: playing in arcades, getting lost among glass cases, feeling that unapologetic geek energy. I thought: “A true fan would be levitating here.” And it made me happy that there’s a place where that passion is celebrated so openly.
We went back to temples, this time in Taito. The path is flanked by stalls and shopping arcades. This one is impressive: bigger, more majestic, with the sense of grandeur you expect from an important temple. It wasn’t a silent place (the crowds were massive), but the walk among the shops made up for it: colors, smells, souvenirs. On a tour, time is a tyrant; luckily, we returned another day.
Practical note: shopping in Japan is surprisingly affordable. Even in touristy areas, prices are usually fair, and food is cheap and excellent. Not “complicated”: neat in the best sense, straightforward, with flavors that rarely push you to extremes. If you go for very traditional dishes, you might find some challenging ingredients; otherwise, eating well is almost automatic.
Riding the subway is a delight. Orderly, clean, efficient. Yes, there are rush hours, but we never felt that crushing crowd we know in Mexico City. Tokyo is mapped out in lines and platforms, and on every ride you confirm that public systems work.
Days later, back in Tokyo, we went to Ueno. There’s a market famous for its “exotic” food and for being, let’s say, less tidy than the rest of the city. We were surprised to even find piracy: Chapo T-shirts, weird bootlegs with Mario nods. Japan has edges too, and seeing them adds texture to the trip.
Odaiba is an artificial island in Tokyo Bay. The first thing that greets you is a replica of the Statue of Liberty. I don’t love replicas; this one feels out of place. It’s so unexpected that its kitschiness makes you laugh. A mandatory photo, of course.
The real goal was the life-sized Gundam. Not a revelation, but definitely a “must” if you like technological oddities: you see it, enjoy it, move on.
Best part: go back by boat. The ride along the Sumida River takes you into the heart of Tokyo, watching the city unfold on both sides. If you want to feel the city in slow motion, this is it. Bring a telephoto lens: the river is wide and details are worth it. The last stretch points toward Tokyo Skytree, welcoming you back from afar.
Tokyo Station impresses from the outside: its red-brick architecture recalls buildings in New York or Boston. Unlike Odaiba’s statue, it’s not a decorative replica—it’s the station as it was conceived in Japan’s modernization era, when Western influences shaped architecture. Inside, and beneath, stretches a world: endless shops, passageways, layers. You could get lost for hours and not see it all.
On our last night, we went to Tokyo Tower. Maybe we should’ve started there, since it’s the city postcard. Going at night was the best decision: lit up, it embraces you from afar. We stayed below, not going up to the observation deck. Not because it was expensive, but because the beauty was in seeing it, not seeing from it. Unlike taller towers, here the vantage point doesn’t change your life; the hunch was right: the unforgettable part is outside, that orange steel painting the sky.
We said goodbye there—with photos, with calm, with the feeling that a city had given us more than we expected.
We returned to Narita with certainty: the best trip of my life. Japan is incredible: safe, kind, clean, functional. And for me, going with my wife amplified everything. Would I go back? A thousand times, yes. In fact, I’m already thinking about it.
I give Tokyo a 9.8. I liked Osaka a little more (a story for another chapter), but my wife preferred Tokyo. Both cities are fantastic. And something else: maybe Japan will change. Reforms are being discussed that could open the door to more immigration, and that will transform things. I won’t judge; I just know what we experienced was a very unique Japan. Hopefully, what comes will be for the better.
For the trip itself, I give a perfect 10. No doubts. No caveats. And with the urge to repeat it all over again.
