Japan | Our Tokyo Apartment

We rented a little Tokyo apartment, in Kamiyama-chō, a residential neighborhood in Shibuya, a couple buildings away from a beautiful Japanese book store (that opened until midnight!) and several blocks away from a wonderful izakaya.

It was small — tiny, really — but perfect for the two of us.

To reach the outside balcony we had to crawl over the bed…

This was pretty much the extent of our apartment: a narrow rectangular space with a bed on one end, a tiny well-stocked kitchenette on the other and a couch, tv and closet-bathroom in between. If I were to guess I would estimate that this apartment was barely bigger than my dorm room in college.

But I love tiny apartments! I love the efficiency of space, built-ins that magically seem to store everything, tiny versions of appliances, furniture that folds out-of-the-way, and floor-to-ceiling cabinets. Everything had a place and there was a place for everything.

Which is not to say I consider myself a minimalist. Maybe at heart, and hopefully one day (I’m working on it!), but as of now my shoes alone could probably fill this space. 😐

It was somewhat hard to believe that our tiny Tokyo apartment was only a 15 minute walk in one direction to the bustling, brightly lit Shibuya Station intersection and a 15 minute walk in the opposite direction to Yoyogi Park and Harajuku. Inside our apartment, on a residential street in Shibuya, it was more or less quiet save for the occasional taxi or pedestrian passing by. Despite the lack of huge blinking lights or video billboards I could still feel the vibrancy and energy of city life.

Standing on our apartment’s balcony in Tokyo reminded me of the first few weeks after I moved to San Francisco. My room had a sliding glass door that opened up to a narrow fire escape that faced the back of an entire street of houses. I loved sitting outside on that fire escape, in the dark, watching people do very normal things: eating dinner, watching tv, studying, watering plants, reading books. I never met any of those people but in some strange way I felt connected to them. In a big new city where I knew but one person, it was comforting just knowing they were there.