Our neighborhood for the next month is about fifteen minutes (bus) or a half hour (walk) from Shinjuku Station in the direction of Nakano City. It is quiet and residential. There are a few shops hidden in the apartment blocks that front endless back streets of houses. There isn’t much traffic. Here we are much more likely to be run over by one of the many bicycles that come blurring by without warning than a car. Grannies gotta get got to their groceries and you best not step into the preferred path, because they aren’t veering or slowing down for you. It makes for interesting sidewalk travel sometimes.

Today, though, we head in the opposite direction from the station. There are few bicycles as we walk deep into the streets of Shinjuku, but the (car and foot) traffic is intense. This part of town is a strange mix of offices, restaurants and entertainment complexes. Godzilla towers over buildings in one section. Further along King Kong hangs from the side of a bill board. He is sporting red, white, and blue boxing shorts. I guess he has a Rocky complex. Quirky is not an adequate description.

We visit a Don Quixote (one of many in Tokyo). It is hard to describe this multistory department store. Souvenirs have exploded into the aisles among health care products. There is luggage, alcohol, and lots of unidentifiable objects. It is has a circus like atmosphere as locals shop like there is a fire sale at a “Five Below” and tourists wander around with their mouths open trying to figure out what is in that container that looks like a monkey holding a sponge. Or why cookies are nestled between single use colored contact lenses with over enlarged tinted iris enhancers. Seven stories of crazy finds later, we are exhausted and ready to leave the chaos.

We stop for coffee and pastries at an outdoor cafe and watch the world bustle by. After a rest, we walk on to a small corner of the world called the Golden Gia. This is where people flock to experience an old Tokyo vibe. The streets are so narrow they hardly qualify as an alley. The buildings are all attached to one another with electric haphazardly strung. The establishments are mostly bars. Each has only room for a few people to enter at a time. Some charge a fee for the privilege. But it is afternoon and the crowds have not yet descended. I wouldn’t want to be here in the drunken rush. We look in open doorways and walk on.

Our route back to the bus depot takes us through the former red light district. Today, only billboards of beautiful young men and women hint at strip clubs and gay bars. The Japanese are more subtle. If you didn’t know where you were, you may not even pick up on the signals. Wholesome looking college age individuals hand out advertisements and invite you upstairs for a “show.”

Further along, the street once again turns into a haven for business professionals who use the trains. There are shops that sell suits, electronics hubs, copy shops, technology support, briefcases, shoes and leather goods. There are quick food stops for ramen, soba, and udon. And it seems there is a karaoke complex on every corner. Nothing signals the end of a long workday like a sing along with your closest friends.

The many faces of Shinjuku reveal themselves as we walk our way across its many streets. Sometimes the best way to experience a place is just to walk.