As often happens to me when I am in Japan, sleeping is not easy during the first couple of days. I always seem to wake up far too early, my body still somewhere between Europe and Tokyo time. So this morning, long before most people had properly started their day, I decided to head out for an early walk through Ueno Park.
Even at that hour the Tokyo metro was already alive. The Yamanote Line was packed and moving with military precision, full of salarymen in dark suits, students in uniforms and people silently staring at their phones while the train rushed through the city. It always amazes me how Tokyo can feel both completely overwhelming and strangely calm at the same time. Nobody talks loudly, everything moves fast, and yet there is still a certain quietness to it all.
Most shops in Japan do not open before 10 in the morning, so the city still had that half-awake feeling. Shutters were down, streets were relatively empty, and only the convenience stores, station bakeries and endless rows of vending machines were fully operational, glowing brightly in the morning light like they never sleep at all.
After a short ride I arrived at Ueno Station. It is a massive station, but one I know very well by now, and within a few minutes I found myself standing at the main entrance of Ueno Park. The contrast with the crowded trains could not have been bigger. The park was incredibly quiet, almost peaceful in a way that is difficult to describe in the middle of a city as enormous as Tokyo.
The first thing I noticed were the birds. Somewhere high up in a large flowering tree near the entrance, dozens of them were making an unbelievable amount of noise. I stood there for several minutes just watching them jump between the branches while petals slowly drifted down in the soft morning breeze. The sunlight was already warm, filtering through the trees and reflecting on the small ponds around the park.
Most of the paths were still empty. Here and there people were jogging slowly, practicing yoga or tai chi, or quietly making their way toward one of the many temples and shrines scattered throughout the park. An older man was feeding pigeons near a bench while a few tourists, probably also dealing with jet lag, wandered around with cameras around their necks. The atmosphere felt very gentle and unhurried, like the city had not fully switched on yet.
I walked around for quite a while without really thinking about where I was going. That is something I enjoy a lot in Japan. Even in a place as busy as Tokyo, you can suddenly find these pockets of calm where time seems to slow down for a moment.
After the walk I headed back to Otsuka, picked up some sushi and drinks to go, and returned to the hotel. I spent part of the afternoon resting and getting ready for the evening show. Around 16:00 I met up with Yanagi and Yuki to travel to Studio Wuu in Kashiwa, about a 45-minute train ride away.
By then Tokyo had fully transformed into its daytime rhythm. Stations were louder, streets busier, and the neon signs and shop fronts that had been dark in the morning were now fully alive. During the train ride I mentioned that I needed to buy some shoes, since I had only brought one pair with me to Japan. As usual, the guys immediately started looking for solutions and, not long after arriving near the venue, they found the perfect little store for me. One of those situations that somehow always works out while touring.
Studio Wuu had a very intimate atmosphere, the kind of place where the audience sits close to the musicians and really listens. Those are always my favourite venues to play. People come for the music, stay focused during the performance and create this special connection between stage and audience that you cannot force.
