I’m 60 now, but I lived in Shiba 2-chōme as a child. One of my happiest memories is returning from Shiba Park and being treated by my grandmother to ice cream with a wafer at the Tokyo Prince Hotel …  So many of my family’s memories are layered within this place. I used to admire the elegance of the building and the grace of the staff. The pool, too, holds reflections of my youth. I hope the hotel will continue bringing people together.

An installation resembling a Tanabata tree stood in the foyer of the Tokyo Prince Hotel during its 60th anniversary festivities last September. Traditionally, such trees bear paper wishes, but here hung guests’ recollections of the hotel. Each note carried a vignette like the one above—a sweet childhood memory with a cherry on top.

The sentiments adorning the tree belonged, for the most part, to a distinct historical moment. In pre-war Japan, the Western-style hotel experience remained largely out of reach for the average citizen. The Imperial Hotel opened in 1890 with backing from the Meiji government and the Imperial Household, catering to foreign dignitaries and the Japanese elite. It set a precedent for a lineage of hotels, including the Fujiya in Hakone and Yokohama’s New Grand, that followed in its path. These establishments, typically located in port cities or resort towns, embraced Western aesthetics and catered to a rarefied circle of guests. In the postwar era, hotels like the Okura and the New Otani inherited and updated this tradition.

When the Tokyo Prince Hotel opened on September 1, 1964, just over five weeks before the Tokyo Olympics, it marked something of a shift. The hotel welcomed a burgeoning domestic middle class with a new kind of cosmopolitan hospitality. Many of its early guests had grown up during wartime scarcity and austerity; now, for the first time, they entered a culture of leisure. Their children, who enjoyed ice cream with a wafer, went on to celebrate weddings, honeymoons, anniversaries, and birthdays at the Tokyo Prince.

The outdoor pool shaded by parasols, the array of restaurants, and the approachable pricing that once made the Tokyo Prince the setting for so many family memories still endure. In contrast, most of Tokyo’s budget-friendly hotels achieve affordability by paring back to the bare essentials and minimising human staff. But the Tokyo Prince retains an almost complete hotel experience, delivered by people. A modestly priced 200 ft² room with a view that upholds these fundamentals has become a rare find in the city.

Depending on your perspective, there’s a trade-off: you’ll be staying in a relic. The hotel has seen three major renovations over the decades, most recently in a substantial 2017 overhaul. But refurbishment cannot hide the patina of the past. Lightly stained coffered ceilings, brass fixtures, and period lighting still speak the language of mid-century design. 

Some might call the hotel tired. The glamorous guests who once swept past the check-in counter in the 1970s and 1980s have largely been replaced by a more pragmatic clientele—delegates of cost-conscious corporate meetings and conferences. For me, though, it’s no compromise. It means a quiet stay close to the heart of the city, where one can wander the corridors of Tokyo’s modern history at leisure, undisturbed.