Recently I’ve posted a few photo series of old and dilapidated Japanese markets. This one, however, is a little different. It’s pre-war and wooden, which is something of a rarity, meaning its ramshackle nature is hardly unexpected. In fact, the middle section has now collapsed, and the former homes above are in an even worse state, so despite somehow hanging on, its days really do seem to be numbered.
There again, a few businesses are still functioning, but on the day we visited, they were closed. Fortune still favoured us though, as a shop owner who still uses his shuttered premises for preparing orders was busy working away, and seeing our interest, he cheerfully invited us in for a look.
To say it was like stepping back in time is an understatement, and perhaps not surprisingly, the dark interior was similar to the rest of the market. The roof was falling in, and a structural beam in the corner looked like it was one small nudge away from disintegrating entirely. None of which bothered the man himself, and he continued to grill eel like he has done for decades — his kind and open smile evident even in the semi-darkness.
A brief but incredibly memorable encounter that made an already extraordinary place feel all the more special. How much longer the site will last is impossible to say, and an earthquake in the area only days after these photos were taken further emphasises its increasingly precarious existence. For now though, it provides an increasingly rare glimpse of how life was, and how it never will be again.
