How do I get around Tokyo?

Tokyo runs on trains the way other cities run on roads. The system looks terrifying on a map — thirteen Metro lines, four Toei lines, JR East's network including the Yamanote loop — but your Suica card doesn't care which operator runs which line. Tap in, tap out, the fare sorts itself. A ride across central Tokyo runs 170 to 250 yen, roughly a dollar to a dollar-sixty. The Yamanote — that fat green loop connecting Shinjuku, Shibuya, Ikebukuro, Ueno, and Tokyo Station — handles maybe 70% of where you'll actually go. Trains run from roughly 5 a.m. to just past midnight. The platforms smell like warm brake dust and vending-machine coffee. Rush hour between 7:30 and 9 a.m. is brutal on the Chuo and Tozai lines — bodies pressed against glass, no room to lift your phone. Avoid those two lines at those hours or ride the opposite direction of the commuter flow.

The single most expensive mistake is buying a Tokyo Metro 24/48/72-hour pass at Narita or Haneda. Sounds smart — 1,500 yen for 72 hours of unlimited metro rides. The problem: it covers Tokyo Metro lines only. Not the Toei Subway. Not JR. Not the Yamanote. You'll hit a wrong gate at Shinjuku, which has JR, Metro, Toei, Odakyu, and Keio platforms all tangled into one station complex, get rejected, buy a separate ticket, and wonder why you bothered. The Suica or Pasmo IC card avoids all of this. If you're on iPhone, set up Mobile Suica through the Wallet app before you land — no physical card needed, no deposit, reloads from a credit card. Android users can do the same with Mobile Pasmo. Skip the station machines entirely. One card. Every gate. Done.

Taxis are a midnight tool. Flagfall sits at 500 yen for the first kilometer, then roughly 100 yen every 250 meters — a ride from Roppongi to Shinjuku at 2 a.m. lands around 3,000 to 4,000 yen ($19-25) with the 20% late-night surcharge that kicks in after 10 p.m. Download the GO app before you arrive. It works the way Uber does elsewhere — fare estimate upfront, card payment through the app, no fumbling with cash or attempting Japanese with a tired driver at 1 a.m. Uber technically operates here but GO has the fleet. One thing nobody warns you about: Japanese taxi doors open and close automatically. Don't grab the rear passenger handle — it swings on its own, and pulling it startles the driver. The seats have crisp white covers that smell faintly of fabric softener. Yes, the drivers wear white gloves. Even a 500-yen flagfall ride feels like being chauffeured.

Walking works street by street but not city-wide. Individual neighborhoods — Shimokitazawa's vintage clothing racks spilling onto the sidewalk, Yanaka's temple cats sunning on cemetery walls, Kagurazaka's stone-paved alleys where you can hear shamisen practice leaking from upstairs windows — are best covered on foot, and the sidewalks are clean, flat, and safe at any hour. But the city is deceivingly spread out: Shibuya to Asakusa looks close on Google Maps until you realize it's 45 minutes by train and close to two hours walking through stretches with no particular reason to be on foot. Google Maps handles Tokyo's train routing well. Trust it, and trust its exit numbers at stations like Shinjuku, which has over 200 exits. Station signs are in English on every line. You'll hear the platform departure jingles before you see your train — each station has its own melody, and after three days they'll be lodged in your head whether you want them there or not.