Photographs from a small group of islands
Japan may well have loads of fancy, well stocked department stores, but thankfully it also boasts a huge number of fabulously dated old businesses to balance things out a bit. So many in fact that the photos below were all taken very recently.
That said, the sad truth is that the vast majority will only last as long as those who own them, but for now for at least these shops are there to be seen and enjoyed, as we will likely never see their kind again.
The lights and iconic signboards of Osaka’s Dotonbori district are well documented, but personally, it’s the rather less well known after dark sides of the city that appeal. Quiet corners and little bars that arguably speak more about the lives and times of those who live there.
So here then is a set of scenes from some nocturnal wanders and drinks a couple of weeks ago. Photos that go nicely with my recently posted daytime series of people and similarly local places.
The dilapidated barber shop on the corner was what initially caught our attention. Old school places like that are always a treat, but it’s rare to see one so faded and forlorn looking. However, having spent the morning shivering through the first genuinely wintery weather of the year, the coffee shop next door turned out to be the real find of our day.
In business for 51 years and run by the same woman the whole time, it was a warm refuge from the cold in both temperature and the welcome we received. A place that my friend and I felt completely at home in the minute we stepped through the door.
Now 83 years old, the mama-san moved to Osaka from her native Gumna prefecture when she got married. Her husband is sadly no longer with us, but she has children in the area, and of course the coffee shop. A business that’s an extension of her personality, and as such it felt very much a part of the past as well as the present. An element that was encapsulated the moment we heard the distinctive ring of the old rotary phone. A sound and resultant scene that was the icing on the cake of our time there. Or perhaps more appropriately, the thickly spread butter on top of our toast.
Oh, and it turns out the old barber shop that was so integral to our visit has been closed for a staggering 31 years.
The previous post consisted of quieter night scenes in Tokyo’s western suburbs. Moments not all that dissimilar to those seen in the city’s more famous entertainment hubs, but at the same time much calmer and considerably less chaotic.
The photos below, however, really are quite different. Little slices of post-daylight life in east Tokyo. An area I’ve photographed for years, but for one reason or another, almost exclusively during the day. So here then are a few glimpses of what I saw on a recent stroll.
The bright lights and busy streets of Tokyo’s well known entertainment hubs are similarly well known and documented. In fact I posted a small series of photos from Shinjuku’s red light district and its environs just the other week.
Head a bit further west into the city’s more suburban areas, however, and the scenery isn’t all that different, it’s simply much calmer, and nowhere near as in your face. A factor that in many ways isn’t a bad thing. Far from it in fact. So here then are photos from several hours of simply wandering a little over a week ago.
At the end of last year I posted photos of this incredibly rickety old Chinese restaurant in east Tokyo. Back then it had been in operation for 65 years, with the master carrying on from his grandfather, and the mama-san a cheerful addition to the family run operation.
However, like so many such businesses, locations, and dated buildings in general, it’s not if but when the end will come. Old age, the dilapidated state of the structures, and the understandable reticence of a younger generation to take over, means there’s invariably only one outcome. And this particular closure hurt more than most, as I ate there on countless occasions. Each and every visit as fascinating as the last one, as there was always a new little detail to discover, along with the simple pleasure of just being there. But that was then and this is now and sadly it is no more.
