This Hotel Might Have the Best View in All of Tokyo

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What’s the best view in Tokyo?

Anyone who’s been to the Japanese capital almost certainly has an opinion. Countless travel blogs, influencers, and magazines offer their rankings but, as with anything so subjective, it ultimately comes down to a matter of preference.

It’s Shibuya Sky if you want 360-degree views of the city from an open-air panoramic rooftop, fighting throngs of tourists for that IG snap of a sunset over Fuji-san; Tokyo Skytree if it’s sheer height (the tallest in all of Japan) you seek, and you enjoy waiting in lines; Tokyo Tower if you want a more central view with glass floors and nighttime lighting effects; or the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building if you want great views for free.

But if you want the best view without any crowds, one where you can stare out a giant window overlooking central Tokyo from your private room or from an open-air lobby terrace, the newly opened Tokyo Edition Toranomon—which hosted The Daily Beast earlier this month—is where it’s at.

All of the Edition’s 206 rooms—located on the 31st-and-above floors of a high-rise—offer widescreen views of the city’s immense skyline. But it’s the 22 rooms facing the Eiffel-inspired Tokyo Tower and the Rainbow Bridge that put the hotel in the realm of best overall city views, especially at night when both landmarks are fully lit-up.

The views alone are worth the stay, but when combined with a world-class cocktail bar, a thoughtful dining experience, and a tranquil design, The Tokyo Edition Toranomon is an easy choice as the latest selection for Room Key, The Daily Beast’s series on new and exciting hotels.

The individual rooms, already far more spacious than most Tokyo offerings, feel like a retreat from the crowded sprawl outside, with a design that blends the blond wooden lattice frames of traditional Japanese architecture with a sleek, modern minimalism. Simply put: It’s an unfussy luxury.

That focus on slatted wood, dim lighting, and understated elegance is omnipresent, especially in the lobby where the addition of towering jungle plants lining the walls and walkways makes the Edition feel like an urban oasis smack in the middle of a megalopolis.

The hotel’s two restaurants and garden terrace similarly offer magnificent views from a more private space than the many observatories that dot the city.

The Blue Room, appropriately named for its midnight blue crushed velvet seating that pops amid a sea of wood and palm plants, features a laid-back menu of international restaurant standards: sirloin, grilled scallops, pan-seared fish, hearty salads, etc.

And next door is The Jade Room, also named for its green velvet booths. It’s the hotel’s more upscale restaurant, with a seasonal tasting menu boasting the unusual fusion of Japanese cuisine with Michelin-starred chef Tom Aiken’s British background. The star of the menu was a deeply umami cut of wagyu beef with maitake mushrooms and turnips, and a dessert made from lees—the fermented goodness left over from sake production—that tasted amazingly like cheesecake.

With two restaurants and an al fresco dining terrace—all featuring the stunning views—the Edition definitely wants to be a hideaway from the overwhelming bustle outside. Add into that mix a top-notch private pool and spa, and you might be tempted to forget to explore the city itself.

But in a place like Tokyo, so vast and so rewarding at every turn, you’d be crazy to come this far just to hang out at the hotel all day. Luckily you don’t need to spend that much time at the Edition’s bathing area to reap its benefits.

A small lap pool, perfectly azure and slightly heated, along with an eight-foot jacuzzi are flanked by only a handful of lounge chairs and tropical plants. It’s a calming, sparse arrangement with tall ceilings designed—like a greenhouse—to let in natural light from high above.

All we needed was an hour in this serene room—reservations are made for extendable hour-long slots anyhow—and we were ready to get back out there for another night of bar-hopping and izakaya snacking.

This particular evening began at Gold Bar, the Edition’s own New York-style cocktail bar located on ground level. It’s nighttime at all hours in this large, single-room space blacked out by heavily curtained windows and a dark wood, underlit interior.

The main source of light in the room is the bar’s enormous display of backlit crystal liquor bottles stacked against a stylish white-and-gold moulded wall. Otherwise, it’s sleek black marble everywhere, including a mostly unadorned box-like fireplace. As such, it’s a sophisticated-looking room that manages to also feel cozy and loungey.

Months after opening last year, Gold Bar reworked its cocktail program into a heady play on the dualities of existence—good and evil, beauty and decay, personae public and private. Each signature cocktail is accompanied on the menu by an illustration by Shinjuku-based tattoo artist Haruka Sasaki. A small black light flashlight reveals a counterpart cocktail and amended art on each page.

For example, a rye-based drink with green tea, maraschino, and mirin is accompanied by artwork of a dead tree with a single crow perched at its center. But a viewing under the black light reveals a Japanese cherry tree in full blossom, with a brighter second cocktail built from apple cider, raspberry tea, and citrus. These are the “two faces of nature,” the menu explains. “Death and beauty. Both can be mesmerizing.”

Another page features a young geisha in traditional garb, clutching a fan and toying with her hair. The cocktail is a combo of vodka, rose water, almond, caramel, cranberry, and citrus. Under the black light, the newly revealed counterpart has the same sweetness, but a chili-spiced tequila gives it a devilish kick. And now the geisha flashes a wicked grin, sports a pair of devilish horns, and holds up a smoking pipe.

These are the “two faces” of our existence, the menu declares.

The Gold Bar itself features a similar duality. During our time at the bar, early in the evening, a romantic hush, the low din of conversation and clinking glasses, filled the dimly lit room. Hours later, upon returning from a night out, long after the Tokyo subways closed for the evening, the bar was still kicking—only now, a thumping techno pulse emanated from behind the blacked-out windows, beckoning visitors to some kind of debauchery.