Rain falls on Jinbōchō’s streets as I settle into my hotel for the final stage of this Japan sojourn. For two weeks, I’ve travelled the country—first slowly through Kyūshū, the south-westernmost of its islands, then east along the route of the Tōkaidō Shinkansen. The line compresses time and space between several major cities, and however many times I take it, I’m left slightly in awe. These include Fukuoka, Hiroshima, and Okayama, where I paused briefly before returning to Tokyo.

Kyūshū revealed a landscape at once calming and humbling. Moving through its countryside, I caught myself wondering, as I often do, whether it might be time to leave city life behind for somewhere quieter and greener. Yet before long, I’d find myself missing the concentrated energy of urban life—the density of movement and exchange, the way ideas and ambition converge to create a feeling of perpetual motion and open possibility.

Similar thoughts surface when I arrive in smaller cities. Fukuoka can start to persuade you that Tokyo might be dispensable. Like many Japanese cities, it contains the same familiar systems of comfort and convenience, only arranged on a more manageable scale. There, I imagine a life with wider latitude—living costs eased, distances shortened, decisions simplified—yet still animated by the city’s magnetism and prosperity.

Fukuoka, Hiroshima, and Okayama are largely monocentric—cities where economic, civic, and cultural life converges around the main station or historic core. Peripheral districts exist, yet they orbit as satellites rather than stand-alone hubs. Tokyo, by contrast, is polycentric: a metropolis composed of multiple centres rather than a single dominant heart. Each forms its own concentration of offices, commerce, and culture. Shinjuku, Shibuya, and Marunouchi, for instance, are designated fukutoshin (副都心)—officially recognised subcentres within the wider metropolitan area.

Wherever I travel, Tokyo’s multiplicity remains the most gratifying to return to. Each fukutoshin extends outward in its own constellation of towns and villages, in spirit if not in name. From Shinjuku, the network contracts west toward Kagurazaka via Waseda; from Shibuya, it inclines south into Daikanyama and Naka-Meguro; from Marunouchi, it bends north through Kanda to Jinbōchō. Administratively, the city appears neatly divided. Yet on foot, amid the residential hinterland, the boundaries soften—the transitions so gradual that you can momentarily lose sense of where one district ends and another begins.

Within that continuity of edges lies what I most admire: the persistent yet elusive idea of the neighbourhood. Time away from Tokyo has recharged me, and I’m ready to return to the work that brought me here. In this final week, I’ll be tightening the bolts on a project that has long occupied my workshop.

Introducing Tokyothèque Neighbourhoods—a magazine–book hybrid, or mook (ムック), devoted to a different set of neighbourhoods in each volume. Its purpose is to walk, document, and guide you through Tokyo district by district, the Tokyothèque way: with care, depth, and attention to urban detail. It continues where Tokyothèque neighbourhood newsletters conclude, amplifying them into a more practical and tactile form. I’ll explain a little about what to expect.

The Context

Before we begin walking, the context section establishes a grounded understanding of each neighbourhood through three dimensions:

1. Urban Form: How the neighbourhood sits in the city—its terrain, buildings, and the routes that connect it to the rest of Tokyo.
2. Historical Layering: The events and changes that have shaped its streets and character over time.
3. Everyday Culture: How people work, gather, and express their tastes—the economies, social ties, and creative leanings that define the area’s atmosphere.

When the time comes to travel, the right measure of context allows you to understand your surroundings and appreciate your experiences more deeply. It enables a more rigorous kind of cultural engagement, while still leaving space for unmediated encounters—the surprises and personal moments that only emerge on the ground.

Even if travel isn’t imminent for you, the context section still stands alone for the pleasure of reading and the satisfaction of learning.

The Route

With context pre-loaded, the route leads through the neighbourhood’s streets via a sequence of milestones, without missing a yokochō alleyway, shōtengai arcade, or intriguing residential side street. Beyond the essential landmarks, I’ve selected coffee shops, book and record stores, galleries, museums, wayside shrines, sento bathhouses, micro bars, quiet restaurants, and lesser-known monuments that together capture the area.

The route is built around three pillars:

1. The Map: A precise point-to-point guide, available both in analogue form—for the feel of paper in hand—and digitally as a Google Map for smartphone navigation.
2. The Itinerary: A glanceable index of each milestone, pairing photographs with concise descriptions—part narrative, part review. These entries also appear on the Google Map, revealing context as each location is tapped.
3. The Commentary: A written travelogue that details each turn of the streets, noting the significance of their scenery and terrain. It can serve as an audio companion, a preview before the day, or for the joy of armchair travel.

Above all, the route lets you settle into the neighbourhood with ease, confident that nothing essential is missed while leaving space for your own interpretation and a sense of discovery.

The Neighbourhoods

The pilot volume will cover four neighbourhoods. It is more than enough to define a meaningful stay in Tokyo, yet selective enough to privilege depth over breadth.

The four neighbourhoods featured in this volume are:

1. Daikanyama: Architectural layers and hillside calm in south-west Tokyo, with design, fashion, and an elegant expression of modern life.
2. Jinbōchō: Scholarly heritage and post-war architecture in central Tokyo, set among second-hand bookshops and the city’s highest concentration of curry shops.
3. Kagurazaka: Where an active geisha district meets a French enclave in north-central Tokyo, along sloping lanes of bistros and ryōtei restaurants.
4. Nishi-Ogikubo: In western Tokyo, alleyways once home to post-war black-market stalls now host micro bars, while antique shops and galleries convey a mellow creative spirit.

Some will be familiar to long-time readers; others are still uncharted within this project. Together, they form a balanced cross-section of the city. Plenty of resources encourage travellers to extract as much sightseeing and consumption from the city as possible, yet by keeping a tight focus, these walks seek to offer something different. 

You’ll come away with:

• A working grasp of Tokyo’s geography and inner logic.
• A nuanced understanding of Japanese urban life and design.
• A cultivated eye for the unnoticed.
• Confidence and pleasure in exploring on your own terms.
• A deeper calm and curiosity carried into future travels.
• Lasting memories of a wonderful time in the city.

Provided the pilot meets the targets required to continue production, each subsequent volume will introduce four more neighbourhoods, treated with the same exacting standards.

Walking Methodology

Alongside the neighbourhoods, I’m assembling a series of segments outlining a Tokyo walking methodology. It will hold my personal principles and approach to:

• Time management
• Energy levels
• Weather and seasons
• Disaster preparedness
• Etiquette
• Photography
• Language
• Dining
• Bathing

Pre-order

Tokyotheque Neighbourhoods: Volume 1 is now open for pre-order in two formats:

Print Edition

This mook marks Tokyothèque’s first printed edition—an idea I’ve been developing since the project began. Here is the specification:

• Format: JIS B6 (128 × 182 mm)
• Cover: Soft dust jacket
• Paper: Lightweight coated stock
• Printing: Full colour throughout
• Production: Printed in Japan

If you’ve ever held a Japanese book crafted to this spec, you’ll know the ease with which it sits in the hand and the lightness with which it slips into a backpack. The slight millimetre difference from comparable Western formats gives JIS B sizes their particular balance—compact and portable, yet never too small to read comfortably or to enjoy images in full. If you haven’t held one before, it will be my pleasure to introduce you.

The Print Edition is priced at £18.00 plus shipping.

Pre-orders function as a form of crowdfunding, directly determining the number of copies produced. While a small surplus may result from standard print runs, pre-ordering remains the only way to guarantee a first-edition copy. Each pre-ordered book will be signed, sealed, and numbered by hand.

Pre-orders are open for four weeks until November 16.

We will then go to print, with a target shipping date of December 14.

If you want the guides sooner for an upcoming trip, read on.

Digital

Tokyotheque Neighbourhoods: Volume 1 will also be available as a tidily formatted eBook, accompanied by a PDF of the maps.

The digital edition is priced at £12.00 with a target release date of November 16.

If you want it sooner still, read on.

Members

Finally, members will receive early access to the finalised guides through a forthcoming Neighbourhoods section on the site. These will begin appearing toward the end of this month, as each guide is perfected.

Members will also benefit from:

• 20% off the Print Edition
• 40% off the Digital Download

This week’s newsletter arrives late, which I hope you’ll understand. It reflects the intensity of work I'm undertaking in Tokyo as I bring everything together to ensure this publication lands just right—fulfilling its invitation to walk the city neighbourhood by neighbourhood, slowly, surely, and with intent.

Until we meet in Neighbourhood Tokyo,

AJ