Oh Tokyo, how many times have you lured me in with promises of “just one drink”, and before you know it you and me end up bar-hopping between izakayas, bars, walking up an down the neon-filled streets with a traveller in hand. It is something that I both love and despise about you. My Japanese has never been better than in the wee hours of the nights when alcohol has washed away all inhibitions when it comes to flawed verb conjugations, and I find myself talking to drag-queens about Japanese politics and current events. Tokyo at night is an entire different beast. All the weirdos who are hidden away during daytime come out to play. All the old uncles treat you for drinks, expecting nothing in return apart from your smile. You will find yourself floating in something that can best be described as Disneyland the size of a humongous city.