The sleep-deprived life of a Japanese salaryman? Seemingly either too drained to do much more than snooze on a day off, or worse still, even more tired due to extra work at the weekend.
Tokyo little bar looks
Abandoned and overgrown Japanese hotel
Faded and rundown resort towns are plentiful in Japan; incredibly forlorn looking places that say a lot about the country’s past, and maybe even more about its future.
Once populated by scores of couples and young families on short breaks, they are now far quieter, with shuttered up shops hinting at businesses that once were, but almost certainly never will be again. And just as shops and the like suffer, so do hotels, with the inevitable decline in occupancy hitting profits hard; money that in part would have been used to upgrade the rooms and facilities to keep them competitive. A vicious circle that makes such accommodation increasingly less appealing, which in turn further hits earnings and makes any kind of refurbishment more or less impossible. The inevitable outcome of which is closure.
Hotel Omiya closed its doors some time in the early 90s, although rather oddly the final nail in the coffin was apparently a lift accident — the resultant fine proving too much for the presumably ailing business to pay. But even back then the whole building must have been terribly dated, and now, after considerable acts of vandalism and years of exposure to the elements, pretty much any sense of its former grandeur has gone.
That said, the aforementioned wanton destruction and weather have resulted in the unexpected beauty of nature beginning to take the place back — a factor that’s very noticeable on the higher floors, with carpets now better described as lush.
In more sheltered spots the invasion isn’t anywhere near as pronounced, but the slower process is still just as appealing.
Elsewhere, like so many abandoned structures in Japan, there are left behind signs of former life.
Along with a scene that suggests someone was actually living there at some point. For what appeared to be quite a while too.
But now — as it has been for most of the last two decades or so — there are no people. No noises either. Just an unnatural, sort of muffled silence, if that makes any sense.
Along with the far more common sensation of long lost memories.
Cancer and cautious hope
Back in November, I wrote about my wife’s battle with breast cancer and the beginning of her chemotherapy treatment. A post that received so many positive and absolutely lovely messages that both of us were genuinely taken aback. Responses that we are both incredibly grateful for, as they gave us a huge lift during what was an immensely difficult time.
Needless to say things are still very difficult, and despite her incredible bravery and stoicism, there’s still a good way to go. But, seven months down the line, the chemotherapy is finally over. It hasn’t been easy. Not in the slightest. Nothing to do with this dreadful disease is. Yet that said, it does feel like she has taken a big step forward. Progress the doctors are pleased with too. So instead of a sense of dread at the well documented horrors to come, we can at last look towards the future with a tentative sense of hope.
Futuristic looking Tokyo cruise
Older, more rundown Tokyo, is what interests me the most, but now and again a nod to modernity isn’t such a bad thing. Cruising down the river on a sunny day isn’t such a bad way to spend the afternoon either.
An elderly Japanese farmer still working in the fields
The elderly in Tokyo are a hardy bunch, with a good number still working, let alone simply getting out and about. But in rural Japan, that toughness is taken to a whole new level, with backbreaking, physical work still done despite advancing years. Amazingly it’s work that’s done with a smile as well.