Photographs from a small group of islands
Approaching this priest, who was sat perfectly still, I honestly thought he was a display of some sort, or an educational exhibit maybe. In fact only when I got nearer, and he blinked, did I become aware that he wasn’t. A realisation that made me jump, although he, rather predictably, remained motionless.
Now why he was there and what the significance was, I really don’t know, but what is for certain is that he made for quite a striking sight.
A pirate he may be, but in Tokyo, Captain Jack Sparrow has to cobble together his pieces of eight just like all the other commuters, and travel to work by train.
Apart from in or just around train stations, it’s unusual to see people running in Tokyo. Or at least it is for those not dressed appropriately. So whatever, or indeed whoever, this woman was running from or to, it must have been important.
It has been suggested that love hotels are one of Japan’s more resilient businesses, but even they sometimes succumb to hard times. And in many of the areas liberally dotted with them, the competition must be intense; each one attempting to outdo the other with novel interiors or technology. A fate it would seem that befell the now abandoned Hotel New Royal, as there’s a fairly new and far fancier place positioned right across from it.
The office part of the building certainly suggests that money had been a little thin on the ground during the latter years, as despite closing its doors for the last time in 2006, the equipment it is kitted out with feels like it’s from a very different age indeed.
A time when figures were generally inputted with one, very deliberately pressed, finger.
And tried and trusted metal switches were very much the order of the day.
Equipment that the presumably far from young Narushima-san — who it would appear ran the hotel — perhaps felt just about comfortable with.
Accounting and clerical tasks that needed to be fitted in between the considerably more pressing work of such establishments — cleaning.
Yet despite the rather archaic nature of the office, the rooms themselves really weren’t that bad. Something that’s still true even now, another five years down the line. Yes, there’s no denying they are dated, but not diabolically so.
Plus they were fitted with a few nice little extras. There was the offer of sustenance for those who may have over exerted themselves.
Phones and fancy panels to marvel at and play with.
Along with games machines for those whose heart perhaps wasn’t in it when it came to the main purpose of being there. Although with buttons labelled double up, big and small, there was no getting away from the job at hand.
And for those who were up for it, there was no shortage of matches for more than a few post-coital Marlboros.
In regards any kind of theme, mirrors were clearly a key feature.
But for the more adventurous, this room had a moving bed.
With simple buttons to get things rolling.
And while there is obviously no power in the building anymore, the rooms are still in surprisingly good condition, with very little damage apart from the removal of all the air-conditioning units. A scenario that presumably prompted at least one person to stay. The colour of the sheets and the amount of tissues they went through suggesting it was for quite some time too.
Yet why they chose the rather mundane room they did is hard to fathom, especially with a chariot sat idly by next door.
Or even more so the marvel that was just across the corridor. For starters its lamps are quite ornate.
But even they are nothing compared to the bed itself. A truly preposterous affair that is quite literally the Rolls Royce of beds.
Coffee shops are plentiful in Tokyo, but the only trouble is, many of them are much the same. Big companies, selling colossal amounts of coffee, in comfy but ultimately characterless surroundings.
Not that there aren’t any independent shops of course, it’s just finding them. But when one does, they often offer a far more interesting look.
