Ultimately, a bicycle to me means freedom. I can get to where I need to be without relying on a schedule, gasoline, or a mechanic. As long as I have air in my tires, and energy in my legs, I can go anywhere I want, anytime I want.
And whilst Tokyo has the best, most punctual, cleanest (albeit crowded) public transport system in the world, it has one fatal flaw: Shuden (otherwise known as the last train of the night).
And so, for the third edition of why I think the bicycle reigns supreme, I’ll take you on a tour of Tokyo with zero fear of Shuden.
24:00
I start the night in Hatagaya at one of my favorite late-night Chinese spots, ‘Koya’. Although the restaurant is based in the more residential end of Shibuya, this place is open until 3:30am and is constantly buzzing with young families, date-night couples, and large groups of friends ordering 15+ dishes from the overly long and extensive menu that you only find at the most legitimate Chinese restaurants.
Lately, due to the summer heat, I’ve avoided a lot of heavy foods, but on this balmy Friday night, in this restaurant abuzz with people making their first exciting steps into the weekend, I decide to go for it and order my favorites: gyoza (served sizzling in a pan with a thicker than usual wrapping and in a size that takes at least 2.5 bites to finish), Mapo Tofu and Chinese style kara-age, served with sansho pepper; a pepper that, to me, gives off an acidic and numbing-like spiciness, a sensation that has always reminded me of the taste you get when you lick the end of a battery (I was 8-years old, don’t judge me).
Speaking of batteries, let me introduce you to my e-bike for the night. Luckily the team at BESV supplied me with the perfect all-night ride: the CF1 LINO. It’s built like a classic Dutch bike and perfect for cruising the city at night, with built-in lights and thick sturdy tires that easily roll over those hard-to-see potholes. And the inbuilt motor means I don’t work up much of a sweat on this 29-degree humid night.
1:00
I head to Kabukicho, Shinjuku, for some late-night baseball. Kabukicho is abuzz with people just hanging out on the streets. There’s an odd mix of opposites going on here: youths drinking on the streets with older salarymen weaving between them, overly brightly-lit businesses amongst smaller, seedier, and darker establishments, and then there is this batting centre wedged between a slew of host clubs and love hotels.
Visiting the batting center late on a Friday night is one of my favorite summer activities. Witnessing a salaryman removing his tie and smashing a few baseballs in his white shirt truly signifies the start of Tokyo summer.
2:00
Edinburgh is a 24/7 cafe a quick five-minute cycle from the batting center. It’s an institution amongst university students and late-night office workers and makes a great alternative as a late-night date spot for those who don’t drink alcohol.
On this early Saturday morning, the cafe is half-full, some people have their laptops out, and others are falling asleep in their chairs. The waiter rushes over to me with a pace more fitting to a restaurant going through a busy lunch rush.
I order a parfait and one ‘Cafe Vienna’. They both come out loaded with an unhealthy amount of whipped cream. The parfait is tall and decadent and impossible to eat with the provided spoon but makes for an absolutely amazing Instagram post. I dunk the cream in the hot coffee and it doesn’t quite mix, but with each mouthful, you get a nice mix of bitter coffee and sweet undissolved cream.
The wifi code here is etched on gold plating – an assurance to the customer that the wifi is here to stay.
3:00
Full of sugar, I head South, quickly arriving at the Shibuya crossing. Here there are only two types of people: those who missed the last train on purpose and those who didn’t. I quickly weave through the crowds, stopping to snap a picture or two before heading East for Tokyo Tower.
3:30
The road leading toward Tokyo Tower is impressive. One moment you are engulfed by grey buildings, and the next moment you turn a corner and this beaming red and white structure suddenly appears seemingly titling head-forward towards you.
The base of the tower is the perfect spot to grab a cool drink from the vending machines and people-watch. Every now and again someone will crane their neck trying to get a full view of the tower, before quickly tiring their neck out and returning to a normal posture.
4:00
Go North from Tokyo Tower and you will arrive in Asakusa, an old and historic part of the city that houses one of Tokyo’s most iconic temples: Senso-ji. Usually, it’s crammed full of tourists, temple and sales staff, but on this early Saturday morning, there’s only one other person: an old man in his 50s wondering about, either just starting his day or just finishing it, it’s impossible for me to tell.
The temple is well-lit, although somewhat eerie. It’s odd seeing a place usually full of thousands of people, reduced to just yourself and one old man. But if you’re not good with crowds and want to enjoy the serenity of the place, then coming here at 4:00a.m. on a Saturday is not such a crazy idea.
4:30
My legs are achy and the sky is slowly starting to shift from black to an inky, dark blue. I ride to Edu-yu in Ryogoku for my final stop of the day: a super sento/public bath house open almost all day (from 10:00am to 8:30am). There are only two other patrons in the bath at this time of the day: two young university students who seem far too chirpy to have stayed out all night like myself. I quickly shower and enter the sauna, constantly looking at the clock until I’ve reached eight minutes, and then quickly jump into the cold plunge pool. The blood is rushing through my body and I’m immediately awake again.
5:30
I step outside feeling anew and jump back onto the bicycle. The ink-blue sky has given way to a pale blue sky as the shapes of clouds slowly begin to appear. I can hear the first trains rumbling in the distance, most likely full of late-night revellers and early-morning hikers. On the roads, there are a few taxis and slowly I see the emergence of lycra-clad cyclists. I put the bicycle into full speed and wisp home the way I came.
