Haikyo

After taking a look at the main part of the retreat-based building and its bunker-like memorial in part 1, any long gone Sanyo — the securities company and not the beleaguered electronics giant — employees obviously needed somewhere to stay after spending the day having group hugs in the hallway or dealing with increasingly desperate diatribes in the dining room.

And, as invariably seems to be the case with abandoned buildings/haikyo, the keys to these rooms were lovingly left behind in case they were called for.

Not that they were of course, and anyway, the rooms upstairs were only remarkable for being unremarkable, with chairs by far the main feature. Pieces of furniture that towards the end at least must have provided those sitting in them a spot to speculate on what went wrong.

Or somewhere to simply smoke themselves silly in sorrow.

Not that such practices helped fully fend off any final frustrations.

However, that’s not to say that visitors only had places to park their bottoms and not their bodies, as the rooms obviously had beds, but despite the welcome relief they may once have offered, they aren’t particularly appealing anymore.

Although the floor, after a quick run around with the vacuum cleaner, could at least be passed off as presentable, if not exactly pristine.

A feature that may, or indeed may not, have tempted the location’s last lodger to stay long term.

Not surprisingly, the likes of Sony and Toyota have been badly hit by the current economic crisis, but another of Japan’s big names, Sanyo, has been floundering for a good few years now — a situation that may help explain the former retreat featured below, and why it’s arguably as ragged as the company’s reputation.

A sanctuary where the history of Sanyo may once have been solemnly studied.

But now it’s merely a building where the corridors are uncommonly quiet,

and not a single soul is bothered about their weight anymore, let alone wheedling their way in with the boss.

Likewise, the biggest open space in the building is decidedly lonely rather than lively.

And as for dining, a pot of tea is still possible, if not exactly advisable,

but anything dish-based is most definitely off the menu.

Plus, rather bizarrely, the complex also comes complete with an underground memorial of some kind.

Maybe even one in memory of bad management, considering it was only put in place in 1990.

Making the symbols, even come across in candlelight, seem somewhat silly rather than sinister.

In part 2, which you can see here I take a look at where the Sanyo staff once slept, along with a late visitor unlikely to leave.

Plus, should the urge take you, this and a whole host of other haikyo/abandoned buildings can be seen here

Coming across an abandoned building that hasn’t already been photographed and featured in books and blogs is always a treat, albeit an at times terrifying one, with any noise being unnerving and absolutely no way of knowing what’s waiting on the other side of its walls.

Still, slight apprehension aside, such a chance happily arose with the Hotel Queen, a love hotel that lost that loving feeling a long time ago, although for whatever reason the small office/main building remained in use for far longer.

But not anymore.

And while the hotel’s fairly reasonable number of rooms were sadly sealed, the office wasn’t, with pointers of the place’s past decorously,

and indeed indecorously, dotted about.

Inside, however, it was more a mix of private and professional — the likes of blankets and a few belongings in the bedrooms almost giving them the air of still being lived in.

Along with a jumble of possessions littering the sort of home-cum-hotel hub section of the building.

All compactly combined with the paraphernalia apparently needed to run such a place, like a plethora of post-its,

and pipes that presumably propelled other kinds of paraphernalia to the punters.

But obviously the customers eventually dried up, so to speak, and the location’s lucky cat clearly didn’t manage to make enough money.

A situation that eventually resulted in the sorry state of affairs that now exists, with the sad sight of several loved faces, 

that haven’t been looked at in a long time.

Along with a schedule that is equally unstudied. 

Plus, as is invariably the case with such places, there’s always something that’s unfathomable, and this time, despite the last person punching in sometime in September 2008,

the central entertainment system seated next to a samurai was unsettlingly still switched on. 

Prompting me to speedily cycle off.

Abandoned buildings (or haikyo) in Japan come in all shapes and sizes, although while some boast such prizes as pickled brains or colossal hotel complexes, others are rather more dull in their decay. Like this company retreat or conference centre not far from Yamanashi Prefecture’s Lake Yamanaka for example, a building that still offers breathtaking views from the bedrooms, but little in the way of how the boarders once busied themselves.

Apart that is from the odd telephone that now never rings.

Or indeed meetings that will never materialise.

However, that said, all haikyo are happily in the habit of managing to muster at least one mystery, and here it came in the shape of several cocoon-like seating set-ups, complete with a sort of speaker and microphone system.

A Device that if nothing else allows one to imaginatively ponder the possibilities of brainwashing, or at the very least some slightly dodgy doings of some description.

Otherwise, unfortunately, it was more sad than suspicious — the place at times almost giving off a sense of being abandoned only recently, with games still waiting to be played,

and the office feeling like it could still be in use.

Almost on a daily basis.

Until that is, one takes a look at the television.

And other technology.

Confirming that no-one has been here for quite some time, and while still looking ready and willing, reservations or requests will never again be relayed through reception.

After seeing the Japan BE Laboratory’s largely dilapidated state last week, it’s arguably quite difficult to imagine what the self confidence building sanctuary would have looked like in its prime, but at least the view that those turning up would have been treated to is still as mesmerising and memorable as ever.

As, it has to be said, are the place’s private rooms, although they are arresting for all the wrong reasons, with the beds now nothing less than a nightmare,

and while looking at one’s tired and timid face in the morning is still feasible, washing away any lingering worries isn’t.

Yet somewhat surprisingly, the option of adding a bit of spice to a dull hairstyle is still doable, if not necessarily desirable.

However, damage and dodgy tonics aside, it’s obvious that the rooms were once quite fancy and fairly sizeable, with western,

or Japanese styles available.

Along with the current bonus of curtains that beg to be bagged in black and white.

In fact, regardless of whether it was due to them being photogenic or furnished, one of the rooms was still considered to be largely liveable, as some poor soul had obviously been staying there until several seasons ago.

And squalor aside, it certainly would have been nice and quiet, with no sounds at all from the next door neighbour.

But scores of people once stayed legitimately in the hope of somehow increasing their self confidence, and while what became of them is a mystery, they too left behind a few belongings, which primarily involves pictures, and not particularly pleasant ones.

Or at least they appeared that way in the dark and dingy rooms.

With even the sun seeming sinister.