From Tokyo’s most coveted new gym, I stared at a blue sky with cartoon-perfect clouds. Layered silhouettes of reflective glass towers. Neat toy-like fashion flagships (Hermès, Dior, Cartier) along curving paths. A rainbow of spring flowers and scattered sculptures on pristine green grass. And close-up in the background, the red latticework shape of the Tokyo Tower.
Welcome to Azabudai Hills, Tokyo’s shiniest new district and perhaps one of the world’s most ambitious urban renewal projects. The new ‘city within a city’ covers 20 hectares in the center of the capital and is home to Janu Tokyo, the first opening of a new sister brand of the luxury hotel group Aman, where I was training.
This microcosm of a full-scale city in Tokyo includes three cloud-brushing skyscrapers (one the tallest in Japan), with a connecting series of low-rise structures conceived by London-based designer Thomas Heatherwick.
In addition to the 30 million people expected to visit each year, the district has homes for 3,500 people and offices for 20,000 employees, more than 160 shops and restaurants, a school, a hospital, a new street, a relocated temple and 320 different factories. (including 10 types of cherry blossoms) – and Janu Tokyo.
The only hotel in Azabudai Hills occupies the first 13 floors of a residential skyscraper, with a glass facade overlooking the green heart of the complex.
Significantly, Aman has chosen Azabudai Hills for the inaugural January (the first of 12 currently planned). Since its launch in Phuket in 1988, Aman – which means ‘peace’ in Sanskrit – has become a synonym for minimalist luxury with its escapist retreats (even in megalopolis Tokyo, where the Aman, as untouchable as a temple, sits at the top of a skyscraper floats).
Janu – Sanskrit for ‘soul’ – on the other hand, is not only (fractionally) more affordable, but also more playful and grounded, connected and open, with a concept tied to the idea of ’energy’ and the Azabudai Hills community around it. .
And so, unlike many other resorts in Aman, Janu is very open to non-staying guests, with eight restaurants and bars (from Japanese and Cantonese to a patisserie, lounge and bar) and a large wellness center (for which a membership is available ). locals) in the 122 rooms and suites.
The decor by longtime Aman collaborator Jean-Michel Gathy is contemporary and soothing, balancing Japanese aesthetics with a European touch – reflected in a rough-hewn black stone counter, a wall textile of tree etchings, the sculptural form of a centuries-old bonsai and a minimalist design. vertical strip of flickering flames.
The mood changed from Aman-like to vibrant as I took the elevator to the reception on the fifth floor. A gentle stream of visitors – well-dressed tourists, office workers in suits, elegant Tokyo women drinking tea together – flowed through the airy space, with double-height ceilings and windows framing cinematic views of the Azabudai Hills and Tokyo Tower.
Most refreshing for the city, my 11th-floor room, with traditional sakan plaster walls against a neutral color palette, had a balcony where I could watch the sunset over the Tokyo skyline.
During dinner I discovered another Janu ingredient not often found in the Aman cosmos: color. After strolling past bold paintings and sculptures in vibrant cobalt blue, I stepped into modern Cantonese Hu Jing, enjoying a range of dishes (from Peking duck to jellyfish in black vinegar) while being immersed in an interior on fire in red tones.
The next morning at breakfast, I watched a slew of visitors below me – from grandmothers in fancy hats to young mothers with strollers wandering along toy-like paths, many stopping to photograph a spring tree with perfect pink blossoms.
On my way out, I passed two chic Aman boutiques and the marble delis of the bustling Janu Mercato restaurant.
My first stop? A sleek supermarket that provided insight into the type of people who now live in the area. I surveyed a curated mountain of fruit chunks, whose perfection of shape was matched only by their exorbitant price tags (including a punnet of ruby red strawberries for £22).
Around the corner, a long queue stood politely and quietly in front of a shop. I asked a nearby guard why they were queuing: “Bread. It will take an hour or so. My colleague stood in line and said it was worth the wait.”
I skipped the line for fancy bread and continued along white underground paths, flowing up and down, with carved openings above them letting in natural light. I passed a beauty salon, a Parisian caviar boutique, a traditional Japanese sweet shop and the Azabudai Hills Gallery, a major new museum debuting an Olafur Eliasson exhibition.
On the way back to the hotel, I found a group of visitors crouched down to tap the neatly placed QR codes next to almost every plant and flower (I identified Carex Evergold grass and Japanese witch hazel).
Weary by the painstaking details of urban perfection, I returned to Janu to tap into the Aman influence with a restorative massage with a copper wand and warming juniper and palo santo oils. The spa also houses an elegant 25-metre swimming pool, sauna, steam room and Japanese-style bath.
The next day I took a last walk through the Azabudai Hills. Stopping to explore the multimedia magic of teamLab’s new museum, I passed a soon-to-open Officine Universelle Buly store, along with a small red shrine, still wrapped in protective plastic.
Before checking out, I went to Janu’s bar and ordered the signature Azabudai Hills cocktail. The non-alcoholic drink, invented by mixologist Shuzo Nagumo, combines Assam tea and Chardonnay grapes. It was fresh, clean and modern with a hint of sweetness – just like the universe it lives in. And the taste of Azabudai Hills lingered long after a taxi took me back to the urban realism of Tokyo Station.
Danielle Demetriou traveled as a guest of Inside Japan (0117 244 3380; insidejapantours.com), which can customize a nine-night luxury Golden Route trip with three nights in Janu Tokyo from £8,720, excluding flights. Janu Tokyo (00 81 3 4577 7917; janu.com/janu-tokyo) offers double deals from £863.