Look at this little guy - it's a fish with legs. He was in a tank at the photo studio we went to. I'd say it's officially okay to believe in dragons again, should you want to. I know I do.
These are some photo’s of the Tokyo skyline. They probably don’t translate well, but never mind. It’s an overwhelming city, and beautiful because of its size and scale. 28 million people... Looking from any one of the viewpoints we’ve seen it from (The Park Hyatt, The Mori Tower, The Prince Hotel – see below….) its an easy place to feel lonely in. Even more so than New York or LA, for me. People never admit to feeling lonely, do they? It’s still a taboo….being on tour is very lonely. Not that I don’t like the people I’m with – I consider them good friends (although I know they barely tolerate me and throw food at my luggage when I'm not looking….) – but it’s a different kind of relationship. And as we’re not quite in prison I can’t see myself holding hands with Matt when looking at some of the views below, handsome devil that he is. (That time on the bus in France doesn't count! Everyone should watch the movie Edmond with William H. Macy, btw.) But looking out over a city as vast as Tokyo makes me feel small and unsettled. It’s not a bad feeling per se, just a feeling. This sense gets stronger the further I go into Asia. In Hong Kong and Beijing and Xi’an I’m very aware that the world I inhabit – which has a certain (sometimes dubious) status in the West - has no relevance in those places. The things I’ve done, the people I’ve worked with have no context in China. That’s even more unsettling. And sometimes it’s exciting to think there are new places to go in the world where everything would be back to square one. Time for my meds.
The big orange and white tower is the Tokyo Tower in Roppongi. This is dawn. One of the perks of jet-lag.
The moon over Shibuya...
The moon over Shinjuku...
On our last morning in Tokyo I got up at 5:30AM to go see the Tokyo Fish market. It’s an intense place; full of buzzing scooters and people running around to get fresh fish. It was quite bloody too, which is something I don’t always associate with fish, and there was a weird smell of blood, fish and even cigarette smoke on occasion. I was encouraged to see that people were out buying a small amount of fish for their restaurants or something – it made me think of how fresh the seafood is here. Also, seeing the sheer volume of fish on sale made me wonder how many more fish are there in the ocean. Tons were on sale here – and it’s the same 6 days a week. It’s impressive to see such a volume of fish being sold. And now I’m sounding like an intro to a Monty Python sketch….
Here's some tuna after the auction. They paint the purchase info on them then move them with little dumper trucks...
Of course there are supply stores all around the market and they sell the essentials. Calculators, weighing scales, old men eating breakfast...
These are tourists waiting to get into a sushi restaurant near the market. Don't know why this one was so popular...there must be a reason but to be honest even the one I went into was really good. It's not like the fish can be much fresher anywhere here - it only has to travel about 20 yards from the net to the plate. There were a few places selling curries too (must be good when you've been working with fish all morning) but it was that kind of Vesta Curry mix you get in the UK, not a full-on Ruby.....
Huge piles of styrofoam boxes that people would rummage through to find the right size for their fishy purchases...
Gutting....
And gutted...
Edward Hopper picture at the Tokyo Fish Market....
Full-on way to slice frozen Tuna.
Tuna waiting to be taken away. Kind of creepy and dead.
This reminded me of a poem by Roger McGough or Adrian Henri - one of the English beat poets. This is the only poem I can quote. Do you think that might be why I don't have a girlfriend?
The Squid,
has an ID.
ID is not nice,
But the squid loves ID.
There's no escaping Paris Hilton.
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