Tokyo

If you're going to an electronic music club, know that people come to genuinely listen and dance, not to socialise loudly over the music — having a full conversation at normal volume next to someone who's locked into the DJ will get you a cold stare fast. Save the chatting for outside or in the smoking area.

Convenience stores at 2am are a completely legitimate part of the night out — locals will stop mid-evening to grab canned drinks and eat standing outside, then continue on. It's not a sign the night is ending, it's just how the city paces itself.

High-ball culture here is serious — a whisky highball in a Japanese bar is poured with obsessive precision, often with hand-chipped ice and a very specific ratio. Ordering one is a good litmus test for how much the bartender cares about their craft.

Drinking on trains is technically legal on some long-distance lines but deeply frowned upon on regular metro lines, even if you occasionally see it. Opening a can on a late-night subway will get you quiet, pointed looks from everyone in the carriage.

The backstreets of certain residential neighbourhoods hide tiny jazz bars and cocktail lounges that have been run by the same owner for decades — these spots rarely advertise and often have no signage you'd recognize from the street. The trick is to follow someone who looks like they know exactly where they're going.

If you end up at karaoke, commit fully — half-hearted participation genuinely deflates the energy in a way that's hard to recover from. Locals use it as a genuine release valve, not an ironic activity, and the rooms are private so there's absolutely no reason to hold back.

The izakaya system of ordering multiple small dishes over several hours is not a rush — you're expected to linger, and nobody will bring you a bill until you ask for it. Just shout 'sumimasen' and mime a check-signing gesture when you're ready, otherwise you could sit there forever happily undisturbed.

Pouring someone else's drink before refilling your own is a deeply ingrained habit here, so keep an eye on the glasses around you and reciprocate — it's one of those small gestures that immediately signals you're paying attention to the room. Letting your own glass sit empty without offering to top up others first reads as slightly rude.

Golden Gai-style areas have bars so small they only seat five or six people, and some of them have a 'regulars only' vibe enforced by a cover charge that discourages drop-ins. If you see a laminated English-language menu on the door, that's your signal that visitors are genuinely welcome.

Last trains in Tokyo typically run just before midnight, and locals plan their nights around this religiously — if you miss it, you're either paying for a taxi or committing to an all-nighter until the first train around 5am. Pick your strategy before you start drinking, because there's no middle ground.

The narrow alleyways packed with tiny yakitori stalls under the train tracks are where the real after-work drinking happens — look for the smoke drifting out and salary workers loosening their ties. Sliding into a seat at the counter alone is completely normal and often leads to the best conversations.

When you walk into a bar and the bartender is clearly focused, don't immediately start talking — let them acknowledge you first. The quiet, unhurried pace of a good Tokyo bar is intentional, and matching that energy will get you treated like a regular within the first drink.