Vietnamese women, like these market sellers, really are the heart and soul of this culture. Vietnamese men do their part for sure, but without the women keeping their eyes on things, this country would almost certainly go off the rails.
In May of this year, I bought a mirrorless Nikon Z7 II with a Z-mount 24-200mm zoom attached; this kit weighs in at around 1.2kg. If I swap out the zoom for the Z-mount 40mm prime lens I bought, I drop the weight I have slung around my neck to about 800gm. While the full-frame Z7 II (translation: the camera’s image sensor that records each photo taken is roughly the size of a 35mm film negative) is not a small camera, it is nonetheless noticeably smaller and lighter than the Nikon D750 I used for 8 years preceding my purchase of the Z7 II. Not that I am getting older or anything like that, but the reduction in weight has definitely been a welcome change.
All of that said, I was surprised at the number of people I saw in Japan walking around doing street shooting with enormous zoom lenses attached to their cameras. By way of example: I cannot imagine spending a day carrying around a camera-lens combination as big and heavy as the young woman in the photo is packing. I can’t tell exactly what she has there, but I figure her rig weighs at least 2kg and possibly as much as 3kg. Before you say that isn’t so much, try carrying around that kit for a day of shooting and let me know how your neck feels when you get home. And keep in mind that hand-holding a big zoom lenses like that steady enough to get really sharp images is no easy trick, even with vibration reduction built-in.
Well, as somebody once said: different folks, different strokes.
The Fushimi Inari Taisha in Kyoto is the principal shrine in Japan for the Shinto deity Inari. In fairness to the deity, I should add that, in addition to being the deity of sake, Inari is also the Shinto spirit for agriculture and rice, and is associated with prosperity and worldly success. The shrine was first established in 711 CE, but it was one hundred years later that it moved to its current location. The entrance to the shrine area is on the outskirts of Kyoto at the base of a small mountain, the peak of which is 233 meters about sea level. The shrine’s main buildings are located near the entrance, and beyond this area are several trails leading from the entrance to the summit of the mountain with a number of smaller shrines to Inari along the paths.
The photo at the top of the page shows the main entrance to the shrine—the Romon or Two-Storied Gate. The Romon faces west and, as I approach, glows in the late afternoon sun of a dazzling October day. Below is the Romon from the other side after passing through the entrance. The shrine’s website (https://inari.jp/en/) notes that the gate was built in 1589 by a powerful samurai and feudal lord (daimyo) named Toyotomi Hideyoshi.
I arrived at Fushimi Inari Taisha shortly after four in the afternoon. Already a bit worn out from a long day, I walked around the main shrine area near the entrance, but did not make it to the top of the mountain. Fushimi Inari Taisha is, perhaps, best known for the Senborn Torii, more than 800 brightly painted vermilion torii placed close together and forming a sort of tunnel that winds part of the way up the mountain. Altogether, there are thousands of torii donated by worshipers in the main shrine area and along the paths leading to the top of the mountain. (For more about torii: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Torii.) I had planned to walk through the Senborn Torii, but when I got to the beginning of the walkway and saw the crowd of people already walking inside, I changed my mind. Not much tranquility or peace of mind to be found on that walk, or so it seemed to me.
All of the shrines and temples I visited in Japan were beautifully preserved and diligently cared for; Fushimi Inari Taisha was no exception. The first of the images that follow is of the Honden—the Main Shrine. I tried to get a closer, more revealing view of this building, but each time I composed a photo one or more visitors planted themselves in such a way that they blocked a key part of the composition. It had already been a long day, and after a few tries, I settled for the photo I had and moved on.
Around 5:30 or so both of my feet put themselves down and said, “Enough is enough, time to go.” I was dragging, and it was indeed time to head back to my hotel. After walking through the Two-Storied Gate headed for the metro stop, I turned for a final look at Fushimi Inari Taisha. What I saw was a lot of people many of whom were also on their way out, and in the background, the roof of the old guard house next to the main gate.
I turned away and headed in the direction of the metro down the narrow street full of people and lined with shops.
This walking street near Ueno Station in Tokyo is crowded with people looking for a good dinner and a good time on a Saturday night. A great place to spend my final night in Tokyo before heading to Kyoto the next day.
I have been taking a lengthy, unwelcome break from editing photos due to a contorted muscle in my hip that makes a nearby nerve unhappy, the result being eye-opening pain in my left leg. For those interested, the malady is called piriformis syndrome. Although I am still struggling with this miserable affliction, I have decided to get back to working on the folder brimming with photos from my October trip to Japan.
Alas, this was not a Bach clarinet concerto in a beautiful setting. The man was practicing scales.
The man in the photo is getting ready for the day’s business, cutting fresh tuna to be sold as sashimi to people who visit his small stall in Tokyo’s Tsukiji Outer Market. The only way to get all of what he was doing in a single photo would have been to stand directly in front of him and get right in his face. These days I am not as inclined as I used to be to get on top of people with a camera, so I settled for two images to tell the story.
At one time, the Tsukiji Market was Tokyo’s largest wholesale fish and seafood market, a place where freshly caught fish was auctioned off or sold to retail buyers every day in the early morning. Around the commercial market there were food stalls and small restaurants serving some of the freshest sashimi and sushi in Tokyo. For those who liked Japanese style fish for breakfast, Tsukiji Market was the place to go.
A few years ago, in 2018 if I am not mistaken, the wholesale market moved to a new location in Tokyo, leaving behind the food stalls, restaurants, and market stands selling everything from fish and fresh fruits and vegetables to kitchen utensils and household goods that had grown up outside of the buildings where the wholesale market conducted its business. The area was renamed the Tsukiji Outer Market. Today, it is a destination for tourists, both domestic and foreign, looking for good eats and a Tokyo slice of life, as well as for local shoppers doing their marketing.
Some of the eateries had people stationed outside cajoling visitors to try their offerings. There were lines waiting to get served at some places. My thoughts about choosing a place to eat among dozens of choices I am unfamiliar with in a market I’ve never been to before: Walk around, look at the choices, pick one that looks decent. Yes, I do sometimes read customer reviews but am skeptical because too often I see “the best food I had on my trip” followed by “what a dump, worst meal ever.” As for lines, I am very much of the opinion that it makes no sense whatsoever to stand in line at one place because a YouTube “influencer,” someone whom I neither know or care about and who quite possibly is an absolute moron, told me that particular place is special and better than the other places. As for the people who are influenced to stand in line, all I can say is thank you. When I do decide to take a chance on a place that looks appealing, it is less likely to be crowded with people because you are waiting in line elsewhere.
Be all that as it may, I eventually went into a small restaurant that had a menu in the window and nobody outside with a sales pitch. The place had a good feel about it, and that was enough to recommend it. The sushi chef behind the counter served up a delicious selection of sushi and an exotic Japanese mushroom fried in tempura batter. I’d been lucky and picked a winner; I left the restaurant feeling full and satisfied.
One thing it never occurred to me I would see at a market famous for fresh seafood were booths selling Japanese wagyu beef on skewers. I had come to Tsukiji for sushi, and did not pay much attention to these booths or the prices they were charging. It was only after looking at the image below on my computer at home that I checked and discovered ¥5000 is equal to a bit more than $32. Yikes! That’s a hefty price tag for what appears to be a skewer with less than 100gms (about 3.5oz) of meat. On the other hand, I had checked online for restaurants serving Kobe beef dinners and learned that prices for dinners serving the genuine item started around $150, and went up – a long way up – from there. A small skewer grilled by a shop in Tsukiji would have been a relatively inexpensive way to sample this delicacy, but I was not thinking in those terms, and passed on by.
For those with a sweet tooth or looking for dessert after sushi, there were a number of alternatives. Some of the offerings were tempting, but I was full from breakfast. The women in this photo are looking at large strawberries set into pastry shells filled with several kinds of sweet concoctions. I wonder where these women are from. The lady furthest away could be from pretty much anywhere in East or SE Asia, but the woman in the middle is difficult to peg.
I had arrived at Tsukiji Outer Market at around eight on a sunny Saturday morning. There were people walking around taking a look, but the place was not crowded. By the time I finished my sushi breakfast some time after 9am, the market had filled up with people and the lanes lined with shops were packed. It was time to move on.
Everywhere you look in Akihabara Electric Town, there are shops large and small selling manga and anime——animations, comics, books, videos, drawings, games, dolls, and an endless assortment of anime paraphernalia. I know virtually nothing of manga or anime beyond the fact that they exist and are very popular with people a lot younger than I. That said, I enjoyed walking around to see what was on offer. Tokyo’s electric town also has Bic Camera, a five story emporium dedicated to every kind of electronics imaginable. The floor devoted to photography was downright astonishing. It took an act of will to escape with my bank account intact.
My first day in Tokyo had consisted of disembarking from my very red-eye flight at about 7:30 in the morning, making my way from the airport to the city, and then wandering around the neighborhood of my hotel a bit bleary eyed until 2:50 in the afternoon at which time I passed the hotel’s check-in goal post. Since check-in time was 3pm, I guess the hotel had cut me some slack after all, though you will have to pardon me for not being particularly grateful. Whatever, within moments of entering my room, I lay down for a much needed nap.
I woke up to find my stomach growling, but before setting off to look for dinner, I stopped to explore my room, a fast journey indeed. On the hotel’s booking page, Agoda listed the room size at 11.5 sq meters. That’s roughly 125 sq feet for those who are still wedded to inches, feet, and miles. In a word: small. As one entered the room, there was a hallway on the left and the door to a very efficiently organized bathroom on the right. The room then “opened up” to a single bed on the right and on the left a narrow desk/counter complete with flat screen TV, a refrigerator underneath and other amenities one expects to find in a good quality budget hotel room. The bed and the desk were divided by a rather narrow walkway. Though a little soft for my taste, the bed was comfortable and plenty roomy enough, even for my rather too abundant physique. I put my luggage on the floor at the far end of the room where there was a window. Years of living in crowded China taught me to travel light; today my travel gear consists of a single, small carry-on bag, and a small back pack, even when I go on longer trips. For those of you who can’t take even a one week journey without an enormous suitcase, budget hotels in Japanese cities are probably not for you. Everything in the room was spotlessly clean, and as I would learn during the days that followed, housekeeping was capable and meticulous. For the record, despite being annoyed at the long wait to check-in (3pm was check-in time for all of the hotels I considered in Japan), I was very satisfied with the New Ueno Hotel——friendly, efficient, clean, and quiet, all in a great location.
The next day (9 Oct) I was awake early. I am always awake early these days——I suppose one of the dubious perks of being a senior citizen. It was cloudy and the small street behind the hotel was wet, but there was a man walking along the street without an umbrella. Encouraged, I put my camera in the back pack and took off for more exploration. When I got downstairs to leave the hotel, I realized that the man I had seen with no umbrella was either eccentric or looking for a place to buy an umbrella to replace the one he had misplaced. It was not raining hard, but I needed to open my umbrella as I struck out walking in the direction of Ueno Park.
I entered the park and stood under a canopy created by huge trees lining the park paths. Wet but beautiful. Suddenly, the steady but light rain gave way to an absolute downpour. I beat a hasty retreat to Ueno Station where I sought out coffee and a chance to get upset reading news from the United States on my phone. A while later, full of caffeine and bile, I found the rain had subsided and I set out again. Even on a wet somewhat gloomy morning, Ueno Park is beautiful.
As the rain gave no indication of stopping, nor did the day give any indication of clearing up, I decided this would be an ideal time to visit the Tokyo National Museum, one of several museums in Ueno Park. The flaw in this plan became more apparent as the path towards the museum became more and more crowded the closer I got to my destination. Not surprisingly, plenty of other people shared my idea. Not in the mood for a very crowded museum visit, it seemed time to end my walk and find a quiet, dry place to consider what I would do later in the day.
