on January 30, 2026
From Ancient Capital to Electric City
Our final morning in Kyoto began with one last breakfast at the Brighton Hotel. As we packed and prepared to leave, there was a quiet feeling that a few more days here would have been easy to fill. Kyoto has a way of slowing you down, grounding you — and it already felt too soon to move on.
A taxi took us to Kyoto Station, and from there we boarded the bullet train bound for Shinagawa. The journey took around two hours, smooth and effortless, a reminder of just how remarkable modern Japan is. From Shinagawa, we transferred onto the Yamanote Line toward Shinjuku, passing familiar stops like Shinagawa itself and Shibuya — places we had explored last year. It felt reassuringly familiar, yet entirely new at the same time.
The journey was quick and efficient, but nothing quite prepares you for arriving in Shinjuku. The scale, the movement, the sheer intensity of the place hits instantly. After the calm of Kyoto, this was Japan in full voice.
A short walk brought us to our new base: the Gracery Hotel. The building sits above a cinema, and our first attempt involved riding the escalator up before realising the hotel entrance was cleverly hidden on the opposite side of the building. Reception is on the 8th floor — a small adventure before even checking in.
Our rooms, 1223 and 1224, offered great views across the Tokyo skyline. As expected for central Tokyo, the rooms were compact but extremely practical. The biggest and most welcome surprise was the bath — small in footprint but deep enough to fully immerse, offering a moment of calm amid the city’s energy.
After dropping our cases, hunger took over. Shinjuku is overwhelming in the best possible way — restaurants, clubs, and shops stacked floor upon floor in every direction. Choice overload quickly set in, and we walked what felt like an eternity before finally settling on a wagyū restaurant.
Each table had its own gas cooker, allowing us to cook the meat ourselves. The waitress was brilliant, recommending we swap the tongue for a beef rib cut — advice we were very glad we took. The meal was exceptional. The wagyū was as tender as anything I’ve ever tasted, melting like butter in the mouth.Two pints of draft Japanese lager rounded things off perfectly.
It felt like a fitting end to a long day travelling between Japan’s former capital and its modern heartbeat. A journey that would once have taken weeks on foot was completed in around three hours — a powerful reminder of how far this country has come, without ever losing sight of where it began.
