I didn’t expect Tokyo’s temples and shrines to be what I couldn’t stop thinking about when I got home from my trips. Between the neon-flooded streets and massive city views, it’s easy to forget that Japan’s capital is home to over a thousand of these, tucked into side streets, park corners, and train station exits you’d otherwise walk past.
Japan has an estimated 75,000 temples and 80,000 shrines total. Kyoto gets most of the credit for the country’s spiritual side. But Tokyo has held onto plenty worth the detour, from a 7th-century temple with a legend involving fishermen to a shrine built specifically to bless your electronics in one of the city’s wildest areas. (Yeah, that one surprised me, too!)
Here are 11 beautiful temples & shrines I’d actually go out of my way to check out on a first trip to Tokyo…
Senso-ji Temple
On my first jet-lagged morning in Asakusa, I was greeted by Senso-ji Temple from blocks away by the giant red lantern hanging over Kaminarimon, the temple’s thunder gate.
After admiring Kaminarimon, I walked the same path pilgrims have used for centuries, through the (at that time, empty) souvenir stalls of Nakamise-dori toward the main hall of Senso-ji.
Senso-ji’s history is stranger than its postcard good looks suggest. In 628, two fishermen brothers pulled a small gold Kannon statue out of the Sumida River.
They didn’t want it and threw it back twice. But the Kannon statue kept returning to their net. Finally, the fishermen brought it to the village headman, who gave up his own house to enshrine it.
The original statue is still at Senso-ji, but has been hidden from public view since 645, when a monk declared it too sacred to display. (Apparently, nobody alive has actually seen it.)
After passing through the inner gate, Hōzōmon (Treasure House Gate), I stopped at the fountain near the entrance to scoop water with the ladle and wash my hands. Steps away, I slid over to the incense burner (jōkōro) to waft incense smoke over my body. It’s the same purification ritual visitors have followed for generations.
The highlight of Senso-ji is its Main Hall (Hondō), where worshippers enter through its bright red pillars to pray to a replica Kannon statue.
Like Kaminarimon, a massive red lantern hangs above the entrance. Inside, the ceilings are adorned with frescoes of dragons and heavenly spirits.
The Main Hall at Senso-ji closes at 5 pm, but Kaminarimon stays lit and open around the clock.
After visiting this busy temple a few times during the day on my trips to Tokyo, I’ve learned to time my visits for before or after the crowds thin out. It’s a fantastic first stop for a day of exploring Asakusa.
Asakusa Shrine
Most first-timers walk right past Asakusa Shrine on their way out of Senso-ji. And it’s a mistake I made on my first day in Tokyo, too.
Locals call Asakusa Shrine Sanja-sama (shrine of the three), after the two fishermen who pulled Senso-ji’s original statue from the river and the village headman who housed it. Shogun Tokugawa Iemitsu built the shrine in 1649 specifically to honor them.
If my Japan trip itinerary allowed it, I’d visit Asakusa Shrine in mid-May to catch Sanja Matsuri, one of Tokyo’s biggest festivals. The festival is built entirely around that same founding story.
The first written record of Sanja Matsuri dates to 1312, making it one of the few Tokyo festivals older than the city itself. (I didn’t know any of this the first time I skipped it.)
I’d build Asakusa Shrine into the same stop as Senso-ji, another one of Asakusa’s must-see tourist attractions. It’s a two-minute walk from the main hall and only takes about ten minutes to explore.
Meiji Shrine
On my first time-crunched trip to Tokyo, I found my inner peace at Meiji Shrine within minutes of leaving Harajuku’s crowds behind. The approach cuts through 70 hectares of forest, past a 12-meter torii gate and 120,000 trees donated by citizens when the shrine was built in the 1920s.
What I didn’t expect on the walk were the matching walls of donated sake and Burgundy wine barrels facing each other halfway down the path, a nod to Emperor Meiji’s taste for the West.
Tokyo’s noise disappeared faster than I expected once I inched past the entrance gate of Meiji Shrine. I could have wandered here for hours among the greenery.
(Unlike Senso-ji, a few kilometers east, I was actually able to relax and hear myself think here.)
I’d skip the ¥500 fee for Meiji Shrine’s Inner Garden unless it’s iris season in June. Outside of the June bloom, the garden is still beautiful, but not nearly at its finest.
The easiest way to visit Meiji Shrine is to enter through the south gate. It’s only about a minute walk from JR Harajuku Station, so it’s easy to tack onto a walking tour through Harajuku.
Yasukuni Shrine
I made a point of stopping at Yasukuni Shrine while spending a day in Chiyoda in central Tokyo. Emperor Meiji founded the shrine in 1869 to honor Japan’s war dead, nearly 2.5 million now, including 14 men convicted as Class-A war criminals quietly enshrined in 1978.
(That decision is exactly why a prime minister’s visit to Yasukuni Shrine still makes international headlines.)
I’d go into Yasukuni Shrine knowing you won’t get the quiet stroll of Meiji or Nezu here. The Yushukan museum on the grounds tells the same history from the Imperial Army’s perspective. I’d budget more time than you’d expect for a single-building museum; it doesn’t rush past the parts of the war other institutions gloss over.
If I were visiting during cherry blossom season, Yasukuni Shrine would be one of my first stops, regardless of the politics. The shrine houses the tree Tokyo’s meteorological agency uses to officially declare hanami season open.
Kanda Shrine
The Kanda Shrine is another ancient Shinto shrine, built over 1,000 years ago, right next to Akihabara Station in Chiyoda Ward. I love the contrast of pairing the two stops: a thousand-year-old shrine and Akihabara, the loudest otaku strip in Tokyo, one street apart.
I’d stop longer at the two-story entrance gate of Kanda Shrine, Zuishin‑mon, than most visitors do. Spend time admiring its intricate details, including its Irimoya‑zukuri roof and its two divine guardians, Toyo‑Iwamado‑no‑kami and Kushi‑Iwamato‑no‑kami, on either side.
(Oh, and I’d be sure to grab one of the electronics talismans even if you’re skeptical. No other shrine in Tokyo sells a blessing for your laptop!)
If I were visiting Kanda Shrine mid-May during odd years, I’d build a whole afternoon around the Kanda Festival, one of Tokyo’s three biggest festivals of the year.
Tsukiji Hongwan-ji
Tsukiji Hongwan-ji stands out immediately among all of Tokyo’s temples & shrines. Its strong Western and Indian influences make it look more like a museum than a Buddhist temple.
I’d put Tsukiji Hongwan-ji up against any temple I’ve spotted in the city for sheer architectural surprise. The temple was designed between 1931 and 1934, making it one of the newer builds in Tokyo.
Tsukiji Hongwan-ji is a 10-minute walk from the heart of Ginza and a five-minute walk from the Tsukiji Outer Market. Before or after checking out the temple, I’d head over to the outer market food stalls to fill up on fresh seafood.
Gotoku-ji
Gotoku-ji takes a completely different approach. Thousands of small maneki‑neko cat statues fill the grounds. I still think it’s the most photogenic 20-minute detour in Setagaya.
The statues at Gotoku-ji represent Neko cats, a popular charm in Japan. Buy one and make a wish. If it comes true, you’re supposed to bring the doll back.
(I like this rule. I’m not gonna argue with any divine forces that inspire me to come back to Tokyo.)
I’d make the short walk from Miyanosaka Station for this alone. Gotoku-ji is worth the detour if you want to swap in a more spirited shrine for another more solemn hall.
Zojo-ji
Zojo-ji is full of statues to explore, but I’d stop for the field of small Jizo figures near the gate, the child-like monk who protects children and the unborn.
Tokyo Tower, rising directly behind the temple, is one of the better temple/skyline pairings I’ve seen in the city. I’d time a visit for late afternoon when the light hits the tower just right.
The original Zojo-ji complex was much larger. Sangedatsu Gate, built in 1622, is all that’s left of it. It’s survived since the WWII bombings that took out most of the rest of the neighborhood.
Before leaving Zojo-ji, I wouldn’t skip checking the tree by the gate. It was planted in the late 1800s by former US President Ulysses S. Grant, of all people.
To make the most out of my day in Tokyo, I’d try to pair Zojo-ji with a visit to Tokyo Tower or head 25 minutes west to end the evening in Roppongi.
Hie Shrine
If you’ve already visited temples & shrines in Kyoto, you already know the look: Hie Shrine is Tokyo’s version of Fushimi Inari’s torii tunnel, a massive stone staircase lined with red gates. I’d count that climb among my favorite ten minutes in Tokyo.
The original Hie Shrine dates to either 1362 or 1478. (It’s still unclear to historians.)
Either way, Hie Shrine earns its National Treasure status. It’s also home to several cultural assets, including an actual tachi sword on display. (I’d make a point of seeing it even though it’s tucked in a side hall most people miss.)
I’d head to Hie Shrine earlier in the day to enjoy the staircase (mostly) to myself before the tour groups kick in.
Nezu Shrine
If Hie Shrine’s torii tunnel left you fighting a crowd for the same photo, I’d send you to Nezu Shrine instead. Its own tunnel runs about 200 meters, built on roughly the same scale as Kyoto’s Fushimi Inari. With a fraction of the visitors, I prefer coming here for a quiet experience.
Nezu Shrine dates back nearly 1,900 years by legend, though it’s only stood on this site since 1705. Its real draw is the azalea garden each spring, with 3,000 plants across 100 varieties.
(It’s ¥500 to walk through during the festival.)
Most first-time visitors skip Nezu Shrine in favor of more popular Ueno tourist attractions, about 15 minutes away on foot.
I’d try to time my visit to Nezu Shrine for the last week of March, right before the high-season crowds catch on.
Ueno Toshogu Shrine
Don’t confuse Ueno Toshogu Shrine with the far bigger and more impressive Toshogu Shrine in Nikko. This one sits inside Ueno Park. I’d stop in for the Karamon Gate alone, even on a jam-packed day exploring Ueno and the park’s museums and zoo.
Built in 1627 for Tokugawa Ieyasu and rebuilt in 1651, Ueno Toshogu survived both the 1923 earthquake and the WWII firebombing that leveled most of Tokyo.
The gate at Ueno Toshogu is gilded in gold leaf, with two dragon carvings locals say sneak down to Shinobazu Pond each night to drink. (I love that a legend like this is still repeated to this day!)
I’d pay the ¥500 to get past the gate to Ueno Toshogu’s main hall. The outer grounds are free to roam.
The peony garden only opens in January and April. I’d build a trip around one of those two windows to see them in full bloom.
After visiting Ueno Toshugu, I’d make a point to explore other fun tourist attractions in Ueno Park, including the Tokyo National Museum and Ueno Zoo.
