When people think of famous sightseeing districts in Tokyo, Asakusa is usually one of the first places that comes to mind. Visitors from around the world come to see the giant red lantern of Kaminarimon and the historic temple Senso-ji . Amid all this, there is a small but familiar “Tokyo moment” that people sometimes talk about. “I meant to go to Asakusa, but I accidentally ended up in Asakusabashi .” Because the station names sound similar, visitors occasionally get off at the wrong stop. When they step out of the station, instead of a bustling tourist area they find themselves in a calm business district. Looking around, they start wondering: “Where is Kaminarimon?” There is no need to be disappointed. Asakusa is only a few minutes away by train. And there is something else. Asakusabashi itself is actually a surprisingly interesting neighborhood. It may not have many flashy tourist attractions. But the area is filled with the atmosphere of Tokyo’s old downtown, a hist...
Among Tokyo’s 23 wards, there’s one area often called the most unremarkable.
That’s Kita Ward — literally “North.”
Kita = North. Simple as that.
But there’s a reason behind that plain name.
As the name suggests, Kita marks the northern gateway to Tokyo.
Bordering Saitama Prefecture, it has long been considered the entrance to Edo — the historical Tokyo — since samurai times.
The Northern Gateway: Oji Station
At the heart of Kita Ward stands Oji Station, one of the city’s northernmost transport hubs.
This time, I visited Oji on an autumn day to see what kind of charm this quiet part of Tokyo holds.
The Slopes of Oji Tell a Story
Step out of Oji Station, and you’ll immediately notice the slope. Here, the flat streets from downtown Tokyo suddenly rise, reminding you of the city’s dramatic terrain.
Today it’s neatly paved, but in the past, this was known as the beginning of a difficult hill road.
At the top lies Asukayama Park, created in the 18th century by
the eighth shogun, Tokugawa Yoshimune, as a public park for common people.
It’s actually one of Tokyo’s oldest parks — and said to be the birthplace of Japan’s hanami (cherry blossom viewing) culture.
Momiji-gari – Hunting for Autumn Colors
Now it’s autumn — time for momiji-gari, literally “maple hunting.”
Of course, no one actually picks the leaves; it means going out to enjoy the colors of autumn.
In Asukayama, maple and zelkova trees turn brilliant shades of red and gold, with the JR train lines running below adding a perfect contrast.
There’s even a mini monorail connecting the base of the hill to the top — free to ride and only about two minutes long.
Families, couples, and photographers all hop on to chase the autumn light.
It isn’t just for sightseeing. Many elderly residents rely on it for their daily errands, sparing them the effort of climbing Oji’s steep hillside. Running back and forth all day, the monorail has become a small but essential part of local life.
Shibusawa Eiichi and Ancient Memories
In one corner of Asukayama stands the former residence of Eiichi
Shibusawa, a pioneering industrialist known as the father of Japanese capitalism.
(If you have the new 10,000 yen bill, his face is on it!)
His Shibusawa Garden blends modern architecture with peaceful nature.
Within the Shibusawa Residence, you’ll find two beautifully preserved structures set among seasonally beautiful trees: Seien Bunko, a refined Western-style brick library built in 1917 to house Eiichi Shibusawa’s books and papers, and Bankoro, a small guest pavilion from the same year that blends Japanese and Western design with warm, inviting craftsmanship.
Even more surprising — archaeological remains from the Kofun period (around the 3rd to 6th century) were discovered within this garden.
Because of the hilly terrain, the area escaped heavy development, allowing traces of ancient Japan to survive underground.
It’s a strange thought — beneath the autumn leaves rest memories from over 1,500 years ago.
A Quiet Valley in the City
Just beside the station, you’ll find Otonashi Shinsui Park, a small urban valley that recreates the long-lost Otonashi River.
In summer, water flows again using underground sources from Asukayama, creating a refreshing stream.
Bridges and red leaves form picture-perfect scenes — a model example of successful urban park design. Around the Shinsui Park area, you’ll find streets that trace the old river’s curves — and a few small cafés and restaurants perfect for a quiet break.
Climb the nearby stone steps, and you’ll reach Oji Shrine, home to a massive ginkgo tree designated a Natural Monument of Tokyo.
Estimated to be about 600 years old, it turns a dazzling gold in autumn — a different kind of beauty from the maples.
Standing beneath it, you can almost feel the quiet pride of this “northern” district.
Modest but Meaningful — The Charm of Kita Ward
Kita Ward and Oji aren’t flashy tourist spots.
But here, you can sense the real Tokyo — its slopes, rivers, shrines, and old parks built for ordinary people.
It’s often called “plain,” yet there’s a calm dignity to its streets.
And fun fact — the lively drinking alleys of Akabane, which I introduced in another post, are also part of Kita Ward.
You’ll find another side of Tokyo’s north: rows of cheerful izakaya packed with locals, the smell of grilled yakitori drifting through the air.
 |
| Akabane |
That mix of tranquility and everyday energy — of quiet parks and lively backstreets — is what makes Kita Ward so endearing.
It may not shine as bright as Shibuya or Shinjuku, but it’s the kind of place that quietly grows on you.
Maybe that’s why I can’t help but have a soft spot for Tokyo’s unassuming, down-to-earth north.
Related articles:
Comments
Post a Comment