I can still remember the first time I booked the Park Hyatt Tokyo on the old Hyatt website, my finger hovering over the confirm button. It was 2008 and the rate felt like a dare to my bank account. I hesitated, did the mental math one more time, and clicked anyway because I knew I wanted to experience it.
The hotel became my haven in Tokyo — I’ve been there nearly 50 times since. I’ve celebrated birthdays there, hosted a rotating cast of friends, and ate at the New York Grill more times than I can count. The relationship deepened: staff came to know me better, and their hospitality became more anticipatory, subtle, and nuanced. I came to know the building: its rhythms, atmospherics and peculiarities.
There is the faint wind that moves through the elevators. The black Japanese crows flying and cawing in the thermal updrafts outside the 47th floor. I knew the side of the building to request for winter views of Mount Fuji. The bronzed wristwatch sculpture in
