I knew I wanted to do the go-kart experience in Japan the moment the idea became real in my head.
It wasn’t just “something to do in Tokyo.” It was childhood nostalgia colliding with adult freedom—the kind of thing that makes you think, Wait… I’m really about to live inside one of my favorite video game vibes?
But first: logistics. Because Japan doesn’t let you just hop into a kart and wing it.
Before I even got on the plane, I had to get an international driver’s permit. Honestly, that part was easy—walked into AAA, paid about $30, and walked out feeling like I had unlocked a new travel side quest. One little booklet, one official stamp of permission, and suddenly my dream had a pathway.
When I arrived in Japan, I was already buzzing. This trip was with my mom and cousins—family time, exploring, eating our way through memories we hadn’t made yet. But the timing was wild because some of my friends were also in Japan at the same time. So we did what travelers do when the universe lines things up: we made a plan and turned it into a meet-up.
Go-karts. Together.
When we finally got to the experience, they ran us through a quick safety briefing and verified our paperwork. Very official. Very “we’re about to do something fun but we’re going to do it correctly.” And then came the best part—the costumes.
Part of the experience is getting to dress up as recognizable characters (I’m leaving names out for legality purposes, but you already know the energy). It’s ridiculous in the best way. Like you’re handing adulthood the keys for a second and saying, “Hold on, I’m going to go be nine years old again.”
Except… it was February.
And February in Tokyo does not care about your childhood dreams.
It was cold—especially for someone not used to that kind of temperature—and the one thing I regret is not bringing gloves. My fingers were freezing, the kind of cold that creeps in slowly and then suddenly you realize your hands feel like they belong to somebody else. If you ever do this in winter: gloves. Learn from me.
And then we were off.
The first thing that surprised me? How fast those little karts can actually go. Like—fast fast. The kind of fast that makes you laugh and panic at the same time.
My kart was shaking like it was caffeinated. At first I couldn’t tell if it was the road, the engine, or the kart being pushed to its limit… but honestly that trembling became part of the thrill. Like the whole thing was vibrating with excitement.
We drove through Shibuya—right through the heart of Tokyo’s pulse. Bright signs, movement everywhere, people turning their heads because you’re literally a grown adult in a character costume driving a go-kart through the city like it’s a completely normal Tuesday.
We passed iconic landmarks, rolled by the Tower, and then—my favorite part—we hit Rainbow Road.
And yes, I know what that sounds like.
But being on that route, surrounded by real cars on the highway, felt exactly like one of those game stages where you’re suddenly driving next to traffic and your brain can’t decide if you’re in reality or inside a memory. I swear my inner child was screaming the whole time.
There was a moment where I looked to the side and saw regular cars pacing alongside us and thought, This is insane.The best kind of insane. The kind that makes you feel alive and laughing and completely present.
It was Tokyo, but it was also a time machine.
And when we finally pulled back in, cheeks cold, fingers frozen, adrenaline still humming… I knew I’d remember it forever.
If you’re visiting Japan and you grew up with nostalgic memories of racing, drifting, dodging imaginary hazards, and launching playful chaos at your friends—this is one of those experiences that delivers exactly what your inner kid hopes it will.
Just do yourself one favor:
Bring gloves.
And be ready to grin so hard your face hurts.