Discover Tokyo’s Hidden Izakayas: A Night to Remember

Golden Gai isn’t the only place for an evening out

It’s Friday and I’m out with a friend exploring parts of Tokyo. We start near Tokyo Tower and Zojoji Temple, surrounded by ginkgo trees with their autumn leaves in full splendor. Those are the classic tourist photos, but we’re after something different. We’re looking for the real Tokyo—one of those areas that, despite being in the heart of one of the world’s largest cities, feels like a tiny island where everyone knows each other.

After dropping off a Mamiya camera for CLA at a shop I know, we wander behind the station. Walking along, we notice a staircase leading down, initially drawn by a man smoking on the steps. From above, it looks like a narrow alley beside the train tracks. But as we descend, there it is—our destination. A street lined with izakayas on both sides, each one unique, radiating an unmistakable charm, aroma, and vibe.

Right away, we spot a figure in the middle of the street—the undisputed boss of the area. You can tell instantly from his confident gaze, his leisurely stroll, and his complete disregard for passing visitors. It’s the neighborhood cat, ownerless yet ruling over the regulars, who treat him like a deity.

Descending those stairs is like stepping into another world. Time slows down, and you find yourself in a place where everyone knows each other. Strangers aren’t shy about talking to you, recommending what to drink, what to eat, or even which izakaya to visit next. The proprietors are just as forthcoming, happily pointing you to the spot down the alley with spectacular meat dishes or across the street for great seafood—because they’re used to customers hopping between 2, 3, or even 5 bars in a single evening. And if Tanaka-san doesn’t stop by tonight, no worries; he’ll be back next time.

In one izakaya, we even discover the cat’s sanctuary—a cozy corner where he dines before retiring to his bed after a long day of patrolling his kingdom.

Here, people eat, drink, play guitars, sing, and share stories—news, personal tales, and traditions. One of these traditions involves ornate rakes, believed to bless businesses with good fortune. These rakes are mostly bought with customer donations, a communal effort to ensure the neighborhood’s little oasis thrives for another year. One regular proudly contributes 5,000 yen, encouraging us to join in to keep the good vibes flowing for another year.

After visiting a few spots, making new friends, and being warmly welcomed into this tight-knit community, we’re left with cherished memories of a wonderful evening—or perhaps just photos of fleeting moments we can barely recall.

It was one of those evenings that reminded us why Tokyo, in all its vastness, sometimes can feel so personal too.