Tokyo

The train carriages are mostly quiet, even when full, moving fast above or below ground. You emerge into Shibuya, say, and it is sudden noise, screens, a lot of people moving with purpose. Then you walk for twenty minutes and find a small street with a wooden temple, the air still. It is a city of vast distances and intimate pockets, always.

Tokyo isn't really one centre; it is many, connected by an efficient rail system, so you spend a bit of time on trains. Each major station often anchors a district: Shinjuku for its towers and parks, Ueno for its museums and older streets. It means days are often split into a few distinct areas, moving between them.

A few days here often settle into a pattern of early mornings, exploring parks or fish markets before the crowds thicken. Then a shift to browsing shops or galleries, finding a quiet coffee in the afternoon. Evenings are for eating, perhaps in a tiny izakaya tucked down an alley. The pace is generally quick, but there is always space to slow down.

Eating is a serious business here; even simple things are prepared with care. A bowl of ramen from a small counter can be quite an experience, the broth deep, the noodles just so. The convenience stores are also surprisingly good for a quick bite, always fresh, always precise. It means you can eat well without much planning.