I recognised the scent in the air the moment I arrived, alighting the train and stepping into the city’s streets for the first time. I had encountered it once in an olfactory dream: an unmistakable amalgam of rising summer humidity, osmanthus blossoms, and savoury aromas drifting from the ventilation fans of nearby ramen and tempura shops.

That was my first time setting foot in Tokyo. This May marked fifteen years since that visit. It lasted only ten days—brief, but enough to convince me to leave my job in London and relocate to the metropolis that autumn.

To some, it looked like a leap of faith. What began as an instinctive move, however, became a five-year chapter—five of my most formative years. In the autumn of 2015, I returned home to be nearer to my ailing mother. From there, life’s tides brought me back to London, where I have remained since.

In the subsequent five years, I sustained my connection to Tokyo with annual visits framed by work, family, and friendship. Tangible reasons are useful anchors, but truthfully, I would have gone regardless. It was a calling, if you will.

In 2020, COVID-19 closed the door on travel to Japan. Everyone lost something during the pandemic. For me, it was the grounding effect of time spent in Tokyo. In response, I turned to reading, seeking the city through the pages of books on urbanism, history, and design. I consumed other media, but nothing transported me quite like the written word.

I didn’t begin writing about Tokyo until later. In everything I’d read, I sensed a space for discourse that could offer depth and insight without the density of academic prose or the light gloss of conventional travel writing. Over the years that followed, I drafted a handful of experimental pieces. None published, nothing consistent.

As I wrote, impressions and memories began to surface and naturally merged into my research and thematic exploration. I hadn’t intended to write autobiographically, but processing my experiences became the thread that bound everything together.

I sensed that others, too, might find something restorative in being transported to Tokyo and that this writing could offer that. As travel to Japan began to boom again, I also felt sure that some would encounter Tokyo as I had in 2010, captivated by its intricacies, compelled to understand its every dimension.

Books, by nature, must come to an end. I found myself drawn instead to a serial format—something that could continue without a conclusion. Tokyo, after all, is practically infinite. And so, in January 2024, this newsletter began as a side project. Since then, I’ve written it each week and shared it freely.

I’ve come to discover that readers like yourself were indeed out there. It’s been a pleasure to share what I know and to accompany you each week through this medium. With you, my calling has found a home.

And so, this week, I have an announcement to make. Just as I did in 2010, I’ve once again stepped away from the steady comfort of employment, answering that same persistent calling. From now on, I’ll be pursuing Tokyothèque full-time.

Some have called it another leap of faith. But as with my first move to Japan, I don’t see it that way. For me, it is inevitable—a rare kind of certainty that settles in the bones, one that comes only a few times in life and should not be ignored.

This shift means Tokyothèque must evolve from a free side project supported by goodwill into a true, independent publication. What form it will ultimately take remains open; the possibilities are numerous, and in time, I look forward to exploring them. But for now, it begins here.

Monthly Monographs

Each month, I’ll publish an in-depth, members-only essay. These essays will be my most expansive work: more researched, more ambitious, and more reflective. They’ll be the most focused pieces I share. Tokyo’s deepest cuts, its most intriguing stories. The sort of read to accompany a slow Sunday afternoon or to immerse in on a flight bound for Haneda.

Consistency is a theme I often return to. Balancing weekly writing alongside full-time work and life’s other demands has, at times, been an intense undertaking. For that reason, I’ve never been able to promise monograph-style newsletters with regularity. But now, I bring my full creative energy to the page.

The remaining editions will continue to arrive freely, offering the familiar blend of neighbourhood walks, semiotic readings, and urban reflections. Recent newsletters will stay open for a time while the full archive transitions to members-only access, with a bonus back issue unlocked each week.

Become a member to access Monographs

Membership now includes:

• One new Monograph each month
• Full access to the archive
• Guided map collection
• Bookshop discount
• Support independent cultural publishing

£5/month or £60/year. Cancel anytime.

The first Monograph will be released next Saturday, 7 June. Join before then to receive it directly in your inbox.

If you’ve enjoyed Tokyothèque so far, I’d love to have you there.

Until we meet in Tokyo,

AJ