Travelling alone in a vibrant city such as Shibuya can make you feel like a star of your own show.

As I exited the train station, I was greeted by countless heads of black hair moving in various directions. Locals were walking briskly, without so much as a pause, while tourists take their sweet time weaving through the multiple, intersecting pedestrian lanes on the road. Of course, this is the Shibuya crossing – people are bound to cross like intoxicated people, finding the longest path possible to get to their destinations. Although once the red man comes into view, time stands still – at least, for the pedestrians, who were disciplined enough not to cross hastily.

Once the cars were set in motion, all I can see were blurred lights – a mixture of head and tail lights from vehicles passing me by, blinking lights from various billboards, sparkling to entice customers who can actually read Kanji, and the soft glow of the sun felt in the middle of September. The sounds of Japanese chatter fill the air as I join the crowd on the sidewalk, eagerly waiting for the walking green man to come into view.

As the green stoplight turned into orange, then inevitably into red, Vanessa Carlton’s “A Thousand Miles” started playing in my head – I imagined having my own movie montage, starring in a romantic comedy, discovering my own adventure. Going to wherever my feet took me, I propelled myself onto the myriad of crisscrossing pedestrian lanes, choosing to cover as much area as I can get before the red man comes into view.

Right in the middle of everything, I paused for a second and took a brief 360 degree turn to survey my surroundings. I marveled at how fast the world moves around me, like schools of fish with a purpose, already knowing where to go and what they want to do, while I am reflecting about where I would want to go and what I would want to do.

Finally, I set foot on a corner, signifying the end of my Shibuya crossing experience. I walked the streets with the purpose of enjoying voracious Shibuya, silently absorbing its wonders in the short amount of time that I had. Without delay, I explored different shops of what the district had to offer – from quirky 100-yen shops, to quaint izakaya restaurants serving different angles of Japanese cuisine, to expensive designer boutiques. Hours and hours, I transferred from shop to shop, like a bee pollinating the flowers, never resting for too long.

I guess this is the beauty of travelling alone – you get to have your own itinerary, explore places of your interest, and have as many movie montages as you want.