Photographs from a small group of islands
As an infrequent sea traveller, the ferry to Nokogiriyama (Saw Mountain) seemed really quite large. There were a good number of vehicles on board, not to mention all the passengers. Plus there were several lounges to choose from — even a VIP room still wonderfully set in the 1970s.
But it suddenly seemed absolutely tiny when this hulking beast lumbered past. Its cargo bound for Kobe by all accounts. Or at least it was once it had been carefully nudged back on course.
Tokyo gives the impression of being impatient to modernise, yet look down most side streets, or wander away from the city’s main thoroughfares, and it can be a very different world indeed. A world that quite unashamedly seems to have little to do with the present, let alone the future. Just like this wonderfully old and grubby little bar.
A going concern for 34 years, the sprightly 78-year-old owner now looks after the place alone after his wife died a decade ago — cooking food, serving drinks and generally being lovely.
A far cry no doubt from the kitchen he once cooked French food in, but after an altercation with his boss, he opted to go it alone, opening the no-nonsense izakaya (Japanese pub) he not only runs, but also lives above. Where almost everyday he makes far more basic fare.
In equally basic settings.
A set-up that not only suits him, but also his very comfortable and content customers.
Apart from its western extremities, Tokyo is a grey, concrete covered sprawl. A sprawl that sometimes seems like it never ends. But travel south of the city and take a short ferry ride across the Uraga Channel, and it’s a very different world indeed. A difference that is beautifully clear from the top of Nokogiriyama, or Saw Mountain.
A Tokyo that’s older, more traditional, and possibly a lot poorer.
