Attempt to exit (or enter) any major train station in Tokyo and you are likely to find yourself lost in a maze of winding multi-level underground passageways and arcades lined with all manner of shops and restaurants. Make a wrong turn, and you’ll somehow end up caught on the designer handbag floor of one of the towering department stores attached to the station by a dizzying array of underground and aboveground entryways. For a first time visitor to Japan, a major train station and its associated passageways and tunnels can be both an amazing and frightening experience.

Last week, I spent a handful of nights at the Century Hyatt, a nice, four-star hotel located in Tokyo’s Nishi-Shinjuku skyscraper district. Of course, this meant that I would be making use of Shinjuku Station, the poster child for enormous and confusing Japanese train stations, and the underground tunnels connecting it with my hotel. It is often said that finding the same location in Shinjuku Station twice is impossible. I had previously used the station for visiting Shinjuku, but this was my first time using it as my jumping-off point for the rest of Tokyo, and I found that it definitely lived up to its reputation.

Each day, three and a half million commuters pass through Shinjuku Station (yet, like most other places in Japan, it somehow remains practically spotless). Six train companies operate over a dozen lines that stop at the station, which is connected to the rest of Shinjuku by miles of twisting below-ground walkways. Seven department stores are linked with the sprawling station complex. I only ever figured out how to get to one of them, though I can’t say I tried particularly hard.

Ah, yes, the department stores. Japanese department stores are amazing sights that have to be seen to be believed. Most are at least ten stories, selling everything from designer clothes, handbags, and cosmetics to stationery, electronics, and books. Department stores are also a great place to eat on the cheap. The top floor or floors usually have an array of reasonably-priced sit-down restaurants, but the real bargains are to be had in the basement. There, you’ll find a sensory overload of dozens of stalls selling every type of food imaginable, from traditional Japanese-style dishes to spaghetti. Countless varieties of sweets and bakery are also available. Employees shout out over the noise of thousands of shoppers, enticing hungry patrons to eat at their stall. Everything is freshly made and nicely displayed, and free samples are often available, if you can manage to pick them out from within the crowds of hungry commuters. Almost everything costs less than 1000JPY (about $8.50), so the department store basements make a great alternative to overpriced hotel food. The bento boxes sold by many stalls also make great lunches to take with you when out sightseeing.

For dinner one night, I found a stall at Odakyu called Chicken Deli that sold a rotisserie chicken stuffed with carrots, potatoes, and onions and seasoned with some of the most delicious spices I had ever tasted. I also picked up a great salad from an adjacent stall that went beyond typical American salad fare of lettuce, tomatoes, and cheese and added bits of pumpkin, beans, peas, and nuts. The whole thing cost barely more than an American McDonalds Extra Value Meal and tasted way better (and was no doubt way healthier).

One of the most amazing things about Japanese stores in general, and department stores in particular, is the care that goes into packaging your purchases. The salad I purchased was wrapped in no fewer than three containers - a small plastic box, which was placed inside a plastic bag, which was taped shut with an ice pack attached to the top of it, which was finally inserted into a larger paper shopping bag with handles. Items purchased are beautifully giftwrapped and boxed upon request at no extra charge. In contrast with most American department stores, where it is often nearly impossible to find anyone to help you, employees are always available and eager to assist.

Just in case the department stores don’t offer enough shopping and dining options for you, the shops and restaurants lining the underground walkways connecting the train station with other areas of Shinjuku are there to fill in any gaps in the department stores’ offerings. Convience stores, fast food restaurants, tiny sushi stalls, and even banks and post offices can be found tucked away in various locations inside the tunnels beneath Shinjuku’s streets.

While other train stations operate on a somewhat smaller scale, most major ones follow the same basic pattern: department stores and long underground shopping plazas connected to the station by dozens of tunnels and walkways. Tokyo’s Ikebukuro, Shibuya, and Tokyo stations and Kyoto’s main station all offer similar shopping and dining options.

Luckily for me, Shinjuku Station was fairly kind. I only got so hopelessly lost that I had to stop at a koban (police box) and ask for directions once. I managed to find my way back to the Odakyu department store’s basement each day to buy lunch, even though I never managed to get there in quite the same way twice. I found myself walking in circles or taking some horribly indirect path a number of times, but I always managed to get to where I wanted to go in the end. While sprawling and somewhat befuddling on occasion, I’m definitely looking forward to my next stay in Shinjuku. Now where is that Isetan department store?

Simply put, Ginza is a shopper’s paradise. With seven department stores and countless pricey designer boutiques, it is Japan’s most famous shopping district. Ginza is home to the (in)famous $15 cup of coffee, the ultra-exclusive Wako department store (where it is seemingly impossible to find anything costing less than a few hundred dollars), and real estate worth well over $100,000 per square meter.

Ginza is often recommended as a “must-see” area of Tokyo. Its stratospheric prices and enormous stores and boutiques are certainly awe-inspiring. However, as someone not in the market for Prada handbags or $50,000 wristwatches, I found myself becoming quickly bored by the endless onslaught of expensive brand-name goods.

Until I walked into the Sony Building. Yes, it was another building filled with expensive, brand-name merchandise. However, at least for a gadget freak like me, the type of pricey items contained within this particular Ginza building were far more interesting than the thousand dollar scarves available next door. Here, you can get a glimpse into the future of computers, televisions, digital cameras, cell phones, and a variety of other electronics. Or, at least the future if you don’t live in Japan. Almost everything in the showroom is already available for sale in Japan, but most items are not available elsewhere.

The Sony showroom fills four of the building’s eleven floors (the rest are shops, restaurants, and other businesses). Digital cameras barely longer than my thumb, giant HDTVs, computers with folding keyboards that seem more like pieces of art than productivity tools, finger-sized MP3 players, ultra-high-tech boomboxes, and a dizzying array of other electronics are presented. Cell phones as thick as a few credit cards with built-in cameras better than the one I bought for $300 last year and high-definition camcorders that fit in the palm of your hand are also among the items on display. Unfortunately (or is it fortunately for my wallet?), almost nothing is available for sale within the building itself, with the exception of some very overpriced “overseas models” aimed at tourists which include English-language manuals and some headphones, batteries, and other small items.

Everything is very nicely presented, making the showroom seem more like a musuem than just a display of products. It makes a very nice place to spend an hour or so admiring the latest technology. The only downside is that you feel entirely depressed when you realize that the majority of these products won’t be available in your home country for another year or so.

If you’re a gadget nut, it’s also worthwhile to check out the five-story Apple store while in the area. While everything inside is also available elsewhere and therefore lacks the wow factor that the Sony showroom does, Apple’s Ginza location is perhaps the company’s best. The store’s 27-foot-long Genius Bar, 84 seat demonstration theater, and employees proficient in 10 languages make the Ginza store stand out from Apple’s other retail outlets.

Tokyo’s Harajuku district is famous for a number of things - the costumed teenagers who each Sunday afternoon stand on the bridge in front of the station, the famous Omotesando shopping street, and the beautiful Meiji Jingu being among the most famous. I came to see all three.

Walking out the main entrance of JR’s Harajuku Station, I immediately found myself in the middle of a crowd of cosplayers and street performers. The cosplayers come in a variety of styles, ranging from gothlic lolita to visual kei. Street musicians wander among the crowds, carrying their guitars, microphones, and portable amplifiers with them as they go. Someone in an orange spacesuit makes a glass orb appear to hover in the air and move without being touched while moving hypnotically. A group offers “free hugs” to passersby, but I don’t see anyone take them up on it. Near the entrance to Yoyogi Park, a group of breakdancers blasts a boombox and puts on a show for the crowd gathered around them. It’s a good arrangment - the people hanging around the Harajuku bridge and in front of Yoyogi Park are there to be seen and heard, and the thousands of tourists from Japan and abroad coming to Harajuku each weekend are there to stare at them, listen, and take pictures.

Just a few seconds away from these noisy crowds is the main entrance to the peaceful Meiji Jingu (明治神宮). Founded in 1920, Meiji Jingu enshrines the souls of Empress Meiji and his wife, Empress Shoken. Set within a 175 acre forest, the shrine is a perfect refuge from the hustle and bustle of Harajuku that surrounds it. Meiji Jingu is famous for being the home of Japan’s largest wooden torii, made out of beautiful hinoki (Japanese cypress). Several festivals are held throughout the year, and several million people visit on New Year’s. I was lucky enough to see a traditional Shinto wedding and some sort of special event involving traditionally costumed men, drums, and swords which no one I asked understood. I watched as people visting from around the world wrote their prayers and wishes on ema (絵馬), wooden boards hung for the gods (and mortals) to view, in dozens of languages.

After tossing a coin into the offering box and praying for the always popular goal of world peace, I started back toward the entrance to the shrine. Along the way, though, I paid the few hundred yen to enter the shrine’s garden. It was well worth the small entrance fee even though the Empress’ iris garden, the star attraction, was not in bloom. Perfectly manicured bushes, small, delicate bamboo fences, and a nice pond made for a pleasant walk. Meiji Jingu also has a treasure museum, but I didn’t stop and instead headed on to rejoin the frenzy outside along Omotesando.

The fashions here were somewhat more mainstream. The busy Omotesando is lined with expensive designer boutiques from the likes of Louis Vuitton and Gucci, trendy comsetic shops, and the modern Omotesando Hills shopping complex. Tourist trap Oriental Bazaar, a one-stop souvenier emporium selling lots of made-in-China reproductions of traditional Japanese goods (as well as some authentic items, though low quality ones), is also located along Omotesando and may be worth a look if you have people you feel obligated to buy souveniers for but don’t want to spend the money on high-quality items. Among the back streets and alleys along Omotesando are a variety of small restaurants, bars, and shops.

After exhausting the window shopping possibilities of Omotesando, I backtracked to the entrance to Takeshita Street, home to dozens of independent shops offering for sale many fashions of the style being worn by the cosplayers standing just a few blocks away. Even though the street is well under a kilometer in length, the throngs of teenage shoppers combined with my window shopping prevented me from reaching the end for the better part of an hour. The offerings from the stores along this street range from the strange to creepy, and anything remotely representing “normal” for any area of the world other than Harajuku is impossible to find here.

At the end of Takeshita Street, I pause to get something to drink at the Starbucks on the corner and reflect on the afternoon’s experiences. Harajuku is a place of sharp contrasts such as can only be found in Tokyo. Crazy youth fashions and loud rock music are separated from the traditional beauty of Meiji Jingu and its far more conservatively dressed visitors by a seemingly invisible line drawn across a strip of pavement. While in the middle of the Empress’ iris garden, it is easy to forget that you are only a few hundred feet away from a girl with bleached hair dressed as a vampire, and likewise it is difficult to imagine that a 175 acre forest could possibly exist just two minutes away when standing in the middle of a crowd on Takeshita Street. Japan is a land filled with contrasts like this, but the area around Harajuku Station is definitely one of the better places to experience this juxtaposition of seeming incompatible worlds.