Tokyo Adventures: Sushi, Sights, and Summer Vibes

How to describe a city like Tokyo?

In "Tokyo Story," it is an endless source of anxiety and the unknown in the eyes of an elderly couple. In "Lost in Translation," it is the lonely paradise hidden behind the bustling scenes. In "The Twilight Samurai," it is the city of hope for everyone living within.

Some people don't like Tokyo, feeling the ubiquitous orderliness makes it distant and indifferent, where the opposite of its hustle and bustle is an inescapable solitude. Yet, some deeply love this city; it blends history and future, blurring the boundaries of East and West, always so unique and enchanting.

As an ordinary tourist, in my eyes, Tokyo is colorful and pure. It's a paradoxical unity; its vibrancy needs no further explanation, and its purity comes from the scent of summer. To me, Tokyo's summer is the purest of all.

At that time, I couldn't have imagined that Tokyo would become a VIP in my travel experiences.

For three consecutive years, in the early summer of May and June, I revisited Tokyo.

To me, Tokyo is like visiting an old friend, but with the excitement of a long-awaited reunion.

So I started organizing these fragments, trying to piece together and restore the Tokyo I love.

There's a saying, "food is essential to life," and there's also a term called "eating, drinking, playing, and having fun." Undoubtedly, "eating" holds a significant place for everyone.

Food is not just food; it often reflects the character and traits of a city or even a country.

And the food that represents Tokyo or Japan, sushi is undoubtedly the highlight.

It's both affordable for the common people and a high-end delicacy with a hefty price tag. The seemingly simple preparation hides the meticulous pursuit of perfection by the chefs. Sushi apprentices often practice for decades to master the basics. In my opinion, there's no food in the world like sushi, so contradictory yet unified, much like Japan itself. In the gourmet capital of Tokyo, who can resist the temptation of sushi?

Although I'm an absolute fan of Chinese cuisine, sushi still holds a high place in my heart. Definitely a "sushi ichiban (first-rate)!"

If you want to enjoy the freshest sushi in Tokyo, there's a place that can't be ignored, and that's the "Tsukiji Market." This market, opened in 1935, has a long history and is the world's largest wholesale seafood market. Unfortunately, on October 6th last year, Tsukiji Market closed down. In preparation for the 2020 Tokyo Olympics, it's being transformed into a parking lot, marking the end of this "stomach of Tokyo."

Tsukiji Market once had two leading sushi shops due to its fresh ingredients and relatively affordable prices, gaining immense popularity. Diners often willingly spent hours waiting in line.

One was Sushidai, and the other was Daiwa Sushi. The two shops were next to each other, separated by just two storefronts.

The first time I visited Tokyo, overwhelmed by the queue at Sushidai, we didn't hesitate to choose Daiwa Sushi, where the line was relatively shorter.

Daiwa Sushi is a father-son establishment (many famous culinary shops in Japan follow the tradition of father passing down to son, like Jiro's sushi shop). The main chef is Mr. Ikeno Shinichi, the elder son (the chubby chef), and they each run a shop, and we were assigned to the elder Ikeno's shop. Although we didn't share a common language, he would still whisper the names of the sushi as he served them, a kind and quiet man. Dining by his side felt comforting.

Edomae sushi (Edomae was Tokyo's old name) offers a wide variety, but these popular sushi shops primarily sell classic dishes, the basic set includes the "big belly," "medium belly," and "red flesh" of the bluefin tuna, sea urchin, red snapper, scallops, and more. They also introduce limited edition dishes based on the season. Among them, my favorite is the "big belly" of the bluefin tuna and sea urchin. The big belly of the tuna doesn't taste like fish, it's as tender as the finest beef, and the sea urchin carries the unique freshness of the sea, perfectly matching my taste.

After being satisfied by Daiwa Sushi, and with Tsukiji Market relocating to Tsukishima, I never thought that on my third visit to Tokyo, I would end up at the revered "Sushidai."

This time, a fellow classmate and I spontaneously decided to visit Tsukishima.

To reach Tsukishima, you have to take the Yurikamome line, a driverless train. Most of the route is on elevated tracks, and as a newly developed area created through land reclamation, the surroundings exude a sense of neatness, with a touch of a futuristic city. Odaiba is also nearby, and even though you can't go from Tsukishima to Ginza as before after eating sushi, exploring Odaiba is still a great option. Of course, fans of Japanese dramas should not miss the Fuji Television building.

Compared to Tsukiji Market, Tsukishima has absolutely no lively atmosphere. It's like a large factory. Various wholesale markets and restaurants are scattered within it. Neat, clean, and spacious, but also quite chilly.

This time, finding Sushidai was quite a challenge. Sushidai and Daiwa Sushi, these "rivals," are no longer side by side. Interestingly, Daiwa Sushi still has two storefronts, and Mr. Ikeno is still there, as I saw him passing by. However, unlike before, before 7 in the morning, there were hardly any customers waiting in line outside Daiwa Sushi, showing the evident impact of the relocation on business.

Similarly, it was due to this that eating at Sushidai became a possibility, but even so, we still had to wait for three hours.

Sushidai's head chef is Mr. Urushiwara Jun, a 47-year-old man who is also a successor in a father-to-son lineage, with his father being the founder of this shop.

Although I had heard of the charisma of Mr. Urushiwara, that he was good at chatting with customers, I didn't expect him to be this impressive. After we were seated, he first asked us where we were from in English, and when he found out we were from China, he reported the names of each piece of sushi in Chinese, with pronunciation quite standard, it sounded like he practiced it specially (it's said that he even knows some Cantonese). What's more important is that we had a few Japanese customers at our round, and Mr. Urushiwara chatted with them the whole time, laughing and talking, showing great interest in their conversations, thoroughly entertaining them. He's truly a master of interaction.

And Mr. Urushiwara's unique skill is that no matter how cheerful the conversation gets, he never lets it affect his work. So the entire sushi restaurant was full of laughter, a warm atmosphere, a completely different experience from Daiwa Sushi.

Perhaps Mr. Urushiwara is already used to cameras, so even though I frequently pressed the shutter button at such a close distance, he remained at ease, completely ignoring the camera's presence. In his hands, the sushi ingredients were like putty in a child's hands, full of magical transformations.

Unlike Daiwa Sushi, the chefs at Sushidai directly place the sushi on a black lacquer sushi counter, using plates only for individual orders. The plates at the sushi restaurant look more like boards, with a very low curvature, almost completely flat.

After enjoying Sushidai, when we were preparing to leave, Mr. Urushiwara waved goodbye to us with a smile, saying "Goodbye" in Chinese. This was when I suddenly understood why Sushidai was even more popular. The taste of the sushi in both places is comparable, and the prices are almost the same. However, the two chefs at Daiwa Sushi were just focused on their work, while Sushidai paid more attention to the user experience. Mr. Urushiwara's outgoing and cheerful personality makes him more likable and memorable, giving people a feeling of being welcomed and at home.

Just as Sushidai and Daiwa Sushi are considered mid-range shops next to the market, the truly upscale sushi shops are Michelin-starred restaurants, and Tokyo has the most Michelin-starred restaurants in the world. These restaurants are high-end and understated, hidden in various corners of the city. Among them, Ginza has the most (probably because Ginza is where the wealthy gather).

During my first trip to Tokyo, I didn't dare to expect Michelin-starred restaurants, so a friend and I went to a sushi shop in Ginza. The place was very discreet, with limited daily seats, and no reservations might mean no place. I believe those who have seen "Jiro Dreams of Sushi" might understand. Famous shops like Jiro's, Shiro's, and Jiro's successor, Tsukiji market's Jiro, might be impossible to dine at without reservations made half a year in advance, despite their high prices. Nevertheless, many diners eagerly await the opportunity.

The biggest difference between these high-end sushi shops and regular ones is a pervasive sense of refinement. The environment is private and immaculate, the service is more attentive, and even the drinks, including champagne, are meticulously selected. Most importantly, the sushi itself is more refined. However, as an ordinary diner, I find it hard to distinguish the difference in taste between these establishments.

As my first trip to Tokyo was coming to an end, I went to eat at a conveyor belt sushi restaurant. This is the most everyday form of sushi.

The taste of the conveyor belt sushi is no different from what I've had in China, but the variety is greater. What surprised me, however, was the price. One plate of sushi was just 100 yen, almost the same as a well-known chain sushi restaurant in China. Keep in mind that Japan generally has higher prices than China. This further made me admire how sushi is such a magical food, able to become an undeniable national delicacy in such different forms.

During my second trip to Tokyo, even though I didn't go to eat sushi, I still strolled through Tsukiji Market. Although my friends didn't quite understand what was worth photographing in a dilapidated and humid fish market, for me, it had a fascinating atmosphere of everyday life.

My motivation for the first trip to Tokyo, besides eating sushi, was to see Tokyo Tower. Even though Tokyo Skytree has now surpassed it in height, in my heart, it remains irreplaceable.

My love for Tokyo Tower comes from the "3 Chome no Yuhi" trilogy. Back then, Tokyo Tower was just a lonely iron structure on flat land. Yet, it symbolized a bright future full of boundless hope.

People often compare Tokyo Tower and Tokyo Skytree, and I've asked my Japanese friend living in Tokyo, which one do you prefer? He said without hesitation, Tokyo Tower, for a very simple reason, because Tokyo Skytree is too ugly.

In reality, Tokyo Skytree isn't ugly, it's a gleaming metal structure, radiating a sense of the future. On the contrary, Tokyo Tower's first impression is more "simple." But the red Tokyo Tower feels warmer, while Tokyo Skytree seems glamorous and cold. More importantly, Tokyo Tower represents a sense of era.

Completed in 1958, Tokyo Tower's design was based on the Eiffel Tower, and from the beginning, it served as a landmark of Tokyo. It became as iconic as Mount Fuji, representing Japan. This prominent building has witnessed over half a century of historical changes, becoming an inseparable part of Tokyo. When night falls, it has the most lonely yet dazzling light in the entire city.

Tokyo Tower used to have two best observation points, one was Roppongi Hills, and the other was the Tokyo World Trade Center near the subway Tamachi Station. Why do I say "used to be"? It's because during my third trip, I sadly found out that the Tokyo World Trade Center can no longer offer a full view of Tokyo Tower. New buildings have blocked the view, and it's said that the Tokyo World Trade Center will be demolished in the not-so-distant future. The Tokyo Tower I photographed at the Tokyo World Trade Center on my first visit was indoors, with glass panels, but the advantage was that tripods were allowed, and there were far fewer people. Most importantly, the Roppongi outdoor observation deck was very windy, even in summer, it felt quite chilly. During my second trip to Tokyo, I visited Roppongi Hills. And during the third trip, due to the regret of not being able to capture Tokyo Tower in full at the Tokyo World Trade Center, I actually went there again.

And the second trip to Tokyo also came with a surprise, that was the JUMP's 50th-anniversary exhibition. Even more surprising, it featured a series of 90s masterpieces, including "Slam Dunk," "Dragon Ball," "Yu Yu Hakusho," and "JoJo's Bizarre Adventure."

The exhibition was quite simple, mainly displaying drafts and original drawings, but for a big fan like me, it was immensely satisfying. After all, such exhibitions might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Tokyo's streets are strange, crowded and lively yet well-ordered, bustling streets could be right next to a quiet park, everything is arranged just perfectly. Strolling through the streets of Tokyo on a summer day, always fills me with the joy of exploration.