Photo: ERSE 21 / San Jose, California

Do You Really Know The Way To San Jose?

By Simone Wilson / March 4, 2025

Every time I step out onto San Jose’s streets, I can’t help but feel like I’m straddling two worlds, the one long gone and the one still being written. I remember as a kid sitting in the backseat of my dad’s old Chevy, the windows rolled down, the smell of apricot blossoms hanging thick in the air as we rolled past endless orchards. Back then, they called it The Valley of Heart’s Delight. And it truly felt like that. Rows of plum and cherry trees stretched out like a green sea, their branches heavy with fruit, the world simple and sweet.

Fast forward a few decades and those orchards have been replaced by glassy high-rises, tech campuses, and a hum in the air that’s not just from the VTA light rail but from ambition itself. Yet, if you slow down, step out of the car, and take a good, long look, you’ll realize that San Jose hasn’t lost its heart, it’s just beating a little faster now.

Wander far enough downtown and you’ll find yourself in Japantown, one of only three left in the entire United States. The red lanterns swinging gently overhead tell their own story, a quiet resilience of generations who weathered everything from internment camps to Silicon Valley’s boom. The scent of fresh taiyaki wafts out from tiny bakeries tucked between mom-and-pop shops, and if you listen closely on a festival night, you’ll catch the deep, pulsing rhythm of taiko drums echoing down the street. It’s the kind of place where past and present exist side by side, neither one outshining the other.

Head a few blocks south, and suddenly, everything changes. The sidewalks of the SoFA District are painted in color, literally. Murals splash across brick walls, neon signs flicker above art galleries, and on any given evening, you might stumble upon an outdoor poetry slam or a band playing for tips beneath the fairy lights. I once spent an entire evening just sitting outside Café Stritch, now called Mama Kin, letting the jazz notes tumble out into the night air, mingling with the buzz of conversation and the occasional clink of glasses from the bar next door.

But San Jose’s rhythm isn’t only found downtown. Slip over into Willow Glen, and it's like you’ve stepped into a postcard. Streets shaded by sycamores, families out walking dogs, Victorian homes with gingerbread trim peeking out from behind well-tended gardens. The smell of fresh espresso curls out from the cafes, mingling with the distant sound of a leaf blower. It’s a quieter pulse, a reminder that the city still knows how to slow dance.

And yet, San Jose’s spirit has always been about reinvention. That’s what you’ll feel walking past The Tech Interactive, a beacon of glass and light, buzzing with schoolkids huddled around exhibits that let them build robots or explore the insides of a microchip. A place where the next generation of dreamers is learning how to bend the future in the palms of their hands. Funny how it all started with orchards, and now the city’s harvest is measured in algorithms and start-ups.

But not all of San Jose’s mysteries are so easily explained. A little ways west, looming like something out of a fever dream, stands the Winchester Mystery House. I’ve wandered through it myself, trailing my fingers along its twisting staircases, doors that open to nowhere, windows that look out onto walls. Sarah Winchester’s labyrinth of grief and superstition, standing frozen in time amidst the hustle of a modern city, reminds you that even here, where innovation is king, there’s still room for a few ghosts. Just a stone’s throw from there, tucked away behind rows of palm trees, sits another kind of wonder, the Rosicrucian Egyptian Museum. You don’t expect to stumble upon Ancient Egypt in the middle of Silicon Valley, yet there it is: the largest collection of Egyptian artifacts west of the Mississippi, complete with towering statues, mummies, and hieroglyphs etched into stone walls. Walk through its replica tombs and cool, dim galleries, and suddenly you’re thousands of miles, and thousands of years, away from the buzz outside.

Of course, the city’s pulse doesn’t only beat through its museums and mansions. You can feel it roaring from the Shark Tank when the San Jose Sharks hit the ice, the crowd electric with every slapshot and save. Or out at Excite Ballpark on a summer night, the scent of hot dogs thick in the air as the San Jose Giants play beneath the stadium lights, local kids in the stands dreaming of big league futures. And if it’s laughter you’re after, there’s always a seat waiting at the San Jose Improv, where the stage has seen everyone from fresh talent to comedy legends, and the jokes roll just as fast as the drinks.

And if all that wandering leaves you hungry, San Jose doesn’t disappoint. One moment you’re slurping steaming bowls of pho in Little Saigon, your chopsticks slipping through clouds of fresh herbs and noodles, and the next, you’re at San Pedro Square Market, the air thick with garlic fries and wood-fired pizza, music drifting from a corner stage. Or maybe you’ll find yourself dining beneath the shimmering chandeliers of Eos & Nyx, where the Mediterranean menu comes with a side of spectacle, canopy trees and mezzanines turning dinner into an event.

By nightfall, the city glows. Santana Row lights up like a runway, couples strolling arm in arm past glittering shop windows, the laughter from rooftop lounges spilling onto the sidewalks. Meanwhile, the skyline downtown has started to glimmer too, its newest glass towers rising like exclamation points against the inky sky. You’d never know the ghosts of orchards linger beneath all that concrete.

But as much as San Jose is always building, always moving forward, it’s also grappling with how to hold on to its soul. The tech boom brought wealth and innovation, yes, but also growing pains, housing shortages, traffic snarls, the delicate balancing act of keeping longtime residents feeling at home while welcoming the world. And yet, walking through the city, you can sense it trying, planting more green spaces, preserving pockets of history, ensuring that even as it grows skyward, it stays rooted in something deeper.

I ended that evening much like I started, wandering aimlessly, past murals and museums, through quiet neighborhoods and noisy plazas, the sound of distant music always just around the corner. And it struck me, as it often does, that San Jose isn’t just one place. It’s layers. Orchards beneath skyscrapers. Old traditions humming beneath new ideas. A city that asks you not just if you know the way, but if you're ready to take the journey, again and again.

Because San Jose doesn’t just show you its way. It makes you want to find yours.

Japantown San Jose
Jackson Street between 1st and 7th Streets, San Jose, CA 95112
www.japantownsanjose.org

SoFA District
South First Street between San Carlos and Reed Streets, San Jose, CA 95113
sjdowntown.com/sofa

Willow Glen
Lincoln Avenue, San Jose, CA 95125
www.wgna.net

The Tech Interactive
201 S. Market St., San Jose, CA 95113
Phone: (408) 294-8324
www.thetech.org

Winchester Mystery House
525 S. Winchester Blvd., San Jose, CA 95128
Phone: (408) 247-2101
www.winchestermysteryhouse.com

Rosicrucian Egyptian Museum
1660 Park Ave., San Jose, CA 95191
Phone: (408) 947-3635
egyptianmuseum.org

San Jose Sharks (SAP Center)
525 W. Santa Clara St., San Jose, CA 95113
www.nhl.com/sharks

San Jose Giants (Excite Ballpark)
588 E. Alma Ave., San Jose, CA 95112
www.milb.com/san-jose

San Jose Improv
62 S. Second St., San Jose, CA 95113
Phone: (408) 280-7475
improv.com/sanjose

Little Saigon
Story Road and Senter Road, San Jose, CA 95122
littlesaigonsj.com

San Pedro Square Market
87 N. San Pedro St., San Jose, CA 95110
Phone: (408) 299-5215
sanpedrosquaremarket.com

Eos & Nyx
www.eosnyx.com

Santana Row
377 Santana Row, San Jose, CA 95128
Phone: (408) 551-4611
www.santanarow.com