Dazed and jetlagged, I look down at Tokyo’s Shibuya crossing. From my vantage point in the train station a couple of storeys up, I watch hundreds of pedestrians (it’s thought that up to 3,000 cross at once) rush over the world’s busiest intersection in a hasty ‘scramble’ that’s illuminated by the flashing neon lights above.
It’s unsurprising that I’m slightly overwhelmed. After a 14-hour flight and braving the city’s remarkably efficient, yet fast-paced and crowded subway system, I’m at the centre of one of the busiest cities in the world. It’s where 37 million people live and work (and many millions more visit as tourists), the beating heart of Japan’s economy, and home to a blur of anime, manga, Pokemon, pachinko parlours, vending machines and pet cafes.
Yet just 12 hours later and little more than 5km away I’m cycling freely through a maze of backstreets and parks, cruising by aged cherry trees with the December sun on my face and just a few locals wandering by.
Keen to escape the crowds, I’ve hopped on a bike and am exploring a very different side to the capital. As I find during my travels through Japan, by jumping on two wheels, even in the busiest cities you can slide into the rhythms of local life. I’m travelling with Wayfairer, which specialises in tailor-made holidays, and the company has arranged a private tour with Chad Feyen from Freewheeling Tokyo.
Read more: Forget driving in LA – here’s how to explore by bike
Chad, who is originally from the US state of Michigan but has lived in Japan for the past two decades, explains that his company aims to show travellers a side of the city that most tourists don’t get to see. “We want people to experience these neighbourhoods like the locals do,” he tells me as we pedal out of the Sasazuka district. “Although you don’t see so many bikes in the centre, in these back streets everyone is cycling – whether that’s a mum picking up her kids or an older person on a three-wheeler. It’s about slowing down and seeing the city in a different way.”
We start our cycle still in Shibuya ward – the same area that features the famous scramble crossing – yet it feels like a world apart. Our bikes are mamachari, which translates quite literally as “mothers’ bicycles” because they have everything a mother would want, apparently: they’re light, inexpensive, have a basket on the front and a space for a child’s seat on the back. There’s no lycra or fancy road bikes in sight. “We’re doing this like local Japanese,” Chad reminds me. “That means taking it slowly.”
We cruise along residential streets and the ‘yellow-brick roads’ of local parks where the bright yellow fan-shaped leaves of ginkgo trees carpet the ground. In the Shimokitazawa neighbourhood, we hop off our bikes and buy takeaway coffee from a local cafe before wandering through the streets of this hipster district. Compared to the towering department stores, fast food joints and expansive billboards in the centre of Tokyo, here you’ll find vintage clothes markets, libraries, vegan cafes, yoga studios and independent stores.
Back on the bikes, our path continues along Megurogawa Ryokudo (Green Promenade) where a river once flowed. It’s now a street lined with trees and plants, as well as a man-made stream that Chad tells me children play along in the summer.
Tokyo’s biking infrastructure isn’t actually very well developed. Bike lanes are few and far between (especially in the centre of the city) and not usually well observed. The blue lines on the road denote a cycle lane of sorts, but Chad explains the general rule is that bikes should behave like cars, but only when safe to do so (which means you can pedal onto the pavement if needed). Helmets are mandatory ‘when it’s possible’. Like so much in Japan, cyclists are trusted to follow the rules as and when they can.
Read more: Experience an iconic Tour de France climb without breaking a sweat
After leaving the Promenade, we swoop up a hill and come to a halt outside Setagaya-Daita Station to look out over the train tracks. On this bright winter morning, the magnificent snow-capped Mount Fuji rises up in the distance. It’s a stunning view of Japan’s sacred mountain and national pride. I’m amazed that I’m the only tourist around. A few residents wander in and out the station paying little attention to the two westerners on bikes. Chad shrugs. “I guess no one really knows about this spot apart from the locals.”
We pedal on to the Gotokuji Temple. Chad notes that most travellers will see lots of shrines and temples on their travels around Japan (he’s not wrong there) and probably won’t want to spend their time in Tokyo visiting yet more. “But this one is worth it,” he assures me. Again, he’s not wrong. In early December, the maple trees are in full bloom with their leaves boasting stunningly sharp reds and oranges, contrasting against a clear blue sky. Hundreds of lucky cats waving a welcoming paw sit outside the temple – worshippers buy figurines of different sizes to bring them good luck and fortune, and then return them to the temple to give thanks. Even after 20 years in Japan and guiding countless bike tours, Chad himself seems mesmerised by the colours and pulls out his phone to take photos.
Our final stop is Hanegi Forest on a quiet residential street. This carefully designed three-storey housing complex was built without disturbing any of the trees that previously existed, so the trunks now weave their way through the homes. It’s a striking symbol of how nature can be nurtured in even the most bustling metropolis, and – like the bike tour itself – the perfect example of why there’s so much more to Japan’s capital city than bright lights and skyscrapers.
Freewheeling Tokyo runs private and small group tours in the quiet backstreets every morning and afternoon.
Annabel is travelling through Japan supported by Wayfairer.
Read more: Swap spring cherry blossom for autumn leaves in Japan
