Last year I posted a series of photos that featured some Tokyo citizens nicely in synch with their surroundings. Since then I’ve managed to take a few more, so here’s another instalment of colour coordination that includes bleak concrete, and much more unexpectedly, a big cat.
A patched up and partially covered Tokyo pedestrian
Photographs of partially covered and patched up buildings aren’t uncommon on these pages, so for a bit of a change, here’s a partially covered and patched up Tokyo pedestrian instead.
Faded scenes from a slowly disappearing Japanese town
It’s something I’ve mentioned many times on these pages, but away from the big cities and popular tourist spots, the rest of Japan really is another world altogether. Of course the overwhelmingly rural landscape plays its part, but invariably it’s the very obvious decline brought about by the country’s ageing population that provides the starkest visuals of just how different things really are.
Only a few hours north of Tokyo, and located rather appropriately at the end of a local train line, Shimonita is primarily an agricultural settlement, which in itself isn’t exactly an industry that attracts or retains younger residents. A factor that was immediately evident when walking around, as the few people we did see were almost all elderly. Something the population stats also confirm, as after peaking at 22,450 residents in 1950, that number was down to just over 7,000 in 2020, and as the biggest drops have all happened since the turn of the century, it’s a trend that’s only going to continue.
With all that in mind, the future looks bleak for not only Shimonita, but all the other places just like it, and yet for me at least, it’s this very aspect that makes them so fascinating. Wandering the quiet streets leaves so much to the imagination, with hints about the lives that have been lived there on almost every corner, and in each abandoned building or shuttered up shop front. Stories that in their own way still survive, at least as long as the buildings do anyway, but when they eventually disappear, there really won’t be much left to remember at all.
The Tokyo of yesteryear photographed yesterday
A Tokyo ryokan that’s not for tourists
Over the last few weeks I’ve documented some of the older accommodation that can be found in Japan, from a massive and unique looking public housing complex, to a narrow street of mostly wooden, post-war Tokyo homes. With those photos in mind, the incredibly dated ryokan below is in many’s ways quite comparable, and yet at the same time it’s also markedly different.
Ryokan, or traditional Japanese inns, have an image of large rooms, fancy food and relaxing hot baths — aspects that are generally true in tourist spots such as Kyoto and Hakone. On the other hand, ryokan can also be a cheap and cheerful option catering to the likes of traveling salesman and construction workers. The latter being lodgings where you get exactly what you pay for, which generally isn’t very much.
This ryokan, however, is cheaper still, with long-term stays welcome, and where prices start at just ¥1,200 a night. Considering the number of shoes stowed by the entrance, and the time of day I took the photos, it would appear that people staying for extended periods is very much the norm as well. A predicament that’s about as far from the usual image of life in Tokyo as this ryokan is in regards traditional Japanese accommodation.