by Kelly Britton
Tokyo may well be the world's greatest metropolis. Its 38 million residents live, work and play in an area roughly the size of LA county. An estimated 15 million people ride its subways each day, nearly three times that of the New York City subway system. It is also safe - the safest city in the developed world - and incredibly, unapologetically clean, with its white-gloved cabbies and spotless toilets. Drivers don't honk their horns, people don't shout. Even the homeless line up in orderly park tents, their shoes neatly arranged outside.
But Tokyo is much more than a well-oiled machine. Around every corner is a bustling food market, a star-chitect designed glass tower, a blinding array of neon, an ancient, winding alley. Tokyoites are gluttons for more than food. History, sports, art, music, nature, fashion - residents of this great metropolis want for nothing. Take almost anything you can do, see, buy, or eat elsewhere, and Tokyo will do it better. Having lived in northern Japan for nearly three years, this city to end all cities also holds a very special place in my heart. And touching down for the sixth time, I am no less awed by its unparalleled style, scale, and energy than I was at first sight.