By 5:45 am, a handful of early risers cluster in front of the Kaminarimon gate. Even at this hour, it seems unavoidable to step into a couple’s photo in front of the giant lantern. I wait, wishing them well and genuinely hoping they secure the ideal mantlepiece shot. Progress is slow, though, and other groups hover, ready to claim the prized spot. I pick my moment to slip by.

“Just squeeze past, why don’t you?” they mutter. I had moved quickly and offered an apology, but a well-wishing heart was not enough. At the edge of the landmark, non-native creatures in an unfamiliar habitat enact a brief, ritualised skirmish over territory. Whose experience of the ancient Buddhist temple takes precedence? The encounter is as old as tourism itself.

Sensō-ji sits in the distance, unmoved. Widely described as Tokyo’s oldest Buddhist temple, with origins in the 7th century, it does not weigh in on such matters. It draws crowds in the tens of millions each year, making it one of the most visited religious sites on the planet. This place has seen it all. Indeed, the resident deity, Kannon, a bodhisattva associated with compassion in Japanese Buddhism, is often explained in English as the one who hears the cries of the world.

Any later in the day and the couple’s photos would be filled from edge to edge with bodies. Avoiding the crowds means arriving extremely early. For some, this undermines the appeal: Nakamise-dōri, the shopping street leading through the Sensō-ji precincts, remains shuttered. In return, the path is almost empty. I wish my friends at the gate peace in their hearts and take the walk up to the temple without obstruction.

Sensō-ji looks sublime in the early morning hush. After a brief wait, the main hall’s doors open at 6:00 am (6:30 in winter). Soon after, the morning service begins. Chanting in Sino-Japanese, accompanied by low percussion and resonant intoning, carries across the compound. Local residents and workers gather; this is the only time the temple is reasonably accessible to them. I pause at the altar at the centre of the hall, listen for a while, then make my way out.

With a dawn temple visit complete, what comes next? On the map, Asakusa’s 1- and 2-chōme describe the neighbourhood as most travel guides present it: Kaminarimon, Nakamise-dōri, the precincts of Sensō-ji, and the surrounding souvenir streets with their connecting alleyways. It is easy to assume this is the full extent of Asakusa. In reality, only a short walk is needed to step beyond this circuit. North of Sensō-ji lie the third through seventh chōme, streets that operate on different terms. Let's begin.