By Will Aitken

The fishmonger screams to the fruit man that his mussels are so fresh they sparkle; the fruit man shouts to the fresh tofu lady that his peaches are the juiciest ever; and the tofu lady hollers back that her tofu chunks taste the way silk feels.

An open market in a small provincial town in Japan? No, I'm in the basement of the splendiferous 15-story Takashimiya department store, in the heart of Tokyo's up-all-night/shop-all-day Shinjuku pleasure quarter. The hawkers singing each to each create one great cacophonous chorus to background one's shopping experience.

I'm down here because it's one of the best places for lunch or a take-out supper in the city. Supermarket doesn't begin to describe the place. It's so long you can't see from one end to the other. Here you can buy pastries from Fauchon of Paris, cheese from Peck of Milano, and brautwurst from Dallmayr of Munich. But the imported stuff, tempting though it is, is costly. Local foods are not. Well, if you skip the $126 muskmelon glowing on its plinth. This is a presentation fruit, as opposed to an eating fruit. You gift another with it—your host, your boss, your prospective father-in-law. But if you want to eat your fruit right away, you can buy an enormous peach for $3, which sounds a bit pricey until you bite into it—the Japanese do peaches better than anyone else.

There are lunch counters here, where you can sit down to a plate of sushi for $12, or a selection of veg tempura and yakitori (chicken on a stick) for about the same price. A can of Kirin beer and Daifuku, a soft rice cake stuffed with sweetened bean paste, and you've just had lunch in the heart of Tokyo for fifteen bucks. If you're feeling flush, you can take the elevator up to the Takashimiya's top three floors, where there are an array of moderately priced restaurants, everything from Chinese to Italian to Japanese traditional. Lunch will run you $20-$30.

Everyone's heard the Tokyo horror stories:  the $24 small glass of orange juice, hotel rooms that start at $650, the $1000 steak dinner for two, the round-the-block taxi ride for $50.

And true, you can still spend this kind of money in Tokyo (although taxis are suddenly affordable again), if you’re so inclined or on a generous expense account.

But if you really want to do Tokyo on the cheap, it's not only possible, it's a great way of seeing the city. And you won't have to sleep in dives or eat lousy or boring food.

For instance, if you stay at an American chain hotel in Tokyo—a Hyatt, a Hilton, a Marriott—you're going to pay through the nose to have the same hotel experience you'd have had back home. Who wants to cross the Pacific for that? Also, unlike most Japanese hotels, American chains don't include breakfast.

Is the only alternative staying in a modular plastic room with all the spaciousness of a coffin at a capsule hotel close to the nearest train station? It can be fun for a night, something to blog about, and dirt cheap—usually somewhere between $20 and $40 a night—but bring your earplugs, for this is where Japanese salarymen go to sleep it off when they've missed the last train home after a night on the town. The noise of 200 men snoring in unison is not easily blocked out. The bathroom's communal, the sound-proofing minimal, and only a handful of Tokyo capsule hotels accept women.

What foreign travellers overlook or have never heard of are business hotels. These are no-frills places aimed at middle management and downward.   They're scattered all over Tokyo, and range from Spartan to very comfortable.  Running from $100 up to $200 for a double, breakfast included, rooms in these hotels tend to be small, but this is Tokyo:  apart from sleeping, how much time are you going to spend hanging around your room?  The bathrooms are often modular plastic, but thoughtfully accessorized: free toothbrushes, toothpaste and razor, along with a deep-soak bathtub.

Ryokan—traditional Japanese inns—can be daunting for first-time visitors to Tokyo. All those rules about how to use the communal bath, which tiny slippers you wedge your big feet into for what occasion, when and where to wear your yukata (the cotton robe available in all ryokan and many hotels), not to mention the expense. High-end Tokyo ryokan weigh in at $300 or more, although this is a bargain compared to regular hotels going at this price, for breakfast and dinner are included in the rate. And for a total-immersion experience in Japanese tradition, they can't be bettered.

The Andon Ryokan, located near Tokyo's Ueno Park, the site of six major art museums, updates the ryokan experience for the 21^st century traveller. Designed by a renowned Japanese architect to resemble a large Japanese lantern, the five-story inn uses concrete and metal mesh to create a sleek, sophisticated look. The rooms are seven metres square, just over the legal minimum for Japanese hotel rooms, but with indirect lighting and in-room DVD players, think of it not as a small room but a cunning cocoon. Doubles start at $90, and the Asakusa open market and Buddhist shrine, the heart of old Tokyo, is close by.

My latest Tokyo ryokan discovery is Saiko Family Inn, located in the up-and-coming Ikebukuro district. The place is brand-new – it opened in May – and the all-white Japanese-style guestrooms are simplicity itself. A double here is $98; all rooms have private baths, flat-screen TVs and free Internet access; there's also a spacious Japanese-style public bath on the fourth floor that can be reserved for personal use. And Ikebukuro itself is a fascinating area, less touristy than Shinjuku or Shibuya, and a great place to shop for everything from designer fashion to manga and action figures.