Haikyo

An old and abandoned house like this is a rare find to say the least in Tokyo, especially so with its vast array of personal items — the sheer scale of which made trying to document them almost dizzying. Added to that were the dark and mostly cramped conditions, creating further challenges. Elements that needless to say didn’t make it any less interesting. Quite the opposite in fact. A location that without a doubt was like no other, and one most definitely tinged with an air of genuine melancholy.

It was hard to try and piece together how many people called it home over the years, but it was undoubtedly a house that held a multitude of memories from multiple generations. Remembrances only truly meaningful to those connected with them, and yet they still lived on in a way in the rooms they belonged to. Now though they have disappeared forever, as just like many of those in the photos, the house no longer exists.

Opening way back in 1929, the societal and historical changes this small, 800 metre cable car system has seen are hard to comprehend. It was also witness to similarly massive shifts in tourism and transportation trends, which ultimately lead to its closure in the early 2000s.

Now, almost a century since operations began, it stands quiet and unused, with the last remaining cable car left open, but also looked after. A well deserved retirement in many ways, and a fitting tribute to a very different time.

Abandoned homes in particular have a quiet poignance that is genuinely touching. Spaces and long-left belongings that tell of lives lived and likely also lost. Hotels, on the other hand, are often interesting due to their dated decor, along with a sense of faded glamour and increasingly distant holiday memories.

The structure below, however, was very different. Vandalism, and the truly massive damage caused by time and the environment, made for scenes that were way more post-apocalyptic than poignant. That decay, along with the remnants of human life, made it incredibly interesting to explore, plus the grey and cold conditions matched the similarly bleak interiors.

Opening in 1960, the hotel was clearly quite something when looking at the brochure — the comparisons with its current state being striking to say the least — but the presence of small, portable TVs even though it didn’t close until 2002, suggest its decline was a long and gradual one. A lack of modernisation that would have resulted in a similar decline in visitor numbers, making renovation funding even more difficult to find. Add to that changing tourism trends over its lifespan, and closure was probably the only realistic outcome, culminating in the shocking, but also truly fascinating scenes below.