Streets are bathed in indigo hues when I emerge from the Hibiya subway line's Tsukiji Station, heading for Tsukiji Oroshiuri Shijo which, though its name translates simply as "Tsukiji Wholesale Market," is actually the world's largest fish market. At 6 a.m., it's too late to catch the famed tuna or melon auctions, but I've got scaled-back ambitions. Fish stories and a filet or two will do.
Heading south on Shin Ohashi avenue, with Tsukiji's Jogai Shijo (outer market) on my left, I pass through clouds of steam from sidewalk ramen shops. What changes there must have been in this area, I muse, since it first began to rise as landfill from Tokyo Bay in the Edo Period (1603-1867). By the mid-1600s, fishermen living on both the new mudflats of Tsukiji and raised islands across the Sumida River were netting the primary source of protein for the estimated half a million residents of Edo (present-day Tokyo). (Japan Times)
Streets are bathed in indigo hues when I emerge from the Hibiya subway line's Tsukiji Station, heading for Tsukiji Oroshiuri Shijo which, though its name translates simply as "Tsukiji Wholesale Market," is actually the world's largest fish market. At 6 a.m., it's too late to catch the famed tuna or melon auctions, but I've got scaled-back ambitions. Fish stories and a filet or two will do.
Heading south on Shin Ohashi avenue, with Tsukiji's Jogai Shijo (outer market) on my left, I pass through clouds of steam from sidewalk ramen shops. What changes there must have been in this area, I muse, since it first began to rise as landfill from Tokyo Bay in the Edo Period (1603-1867). By the mid-1600s, fishermen living on both the new mudflats of Tsukiji and raised islands across the Sumida River were netting the primary source of protein for the estimated half a million residents of Edo (present-day Tokyo). (Japan Times)