My work has taken me to Japan, specifically the Tokyo area, several times. Occasionally I have had to stay over the weekend and that has given me the chance to explore Tokyo a bit. One of the things I have always wanted to see, ever since reading about it in a National Geographic article, is the Tsukiji fish market. According to the Geographic it is the largest fish market in the world and if you get there early enough you can watch the auctioning of the large tuna, an event which occurs every day. Being somewhat of a foodie I guess it was inevitable that once I discovered the existence of such a huge fish market I had to go see it. (I am sure the fact that the article also stated that surrounding the fish market were many good restaurants that featured fresh fish did not influence me at all. Yum!)
So the first weekend free with time to available to explore Tokyo had me plotting how to get to Tsukiji early Saturday morning. One of my colleagues, also stranded in Japan for the weekend, agreed to come with me. We decided to meet at 4:30 am and hopefully that would get us to the fish market in time to see the large tuna get auctioned. The first problem we encountered was figuring out what time the metro opened (5am) and to make sure we got on the correct line. Tokyo probably has one of the most complex metro systems in the world, frequently with four levels (or more) of tracks at the stations and lines operated both by the government and public companies. While there was some signage in English it was not necessarily enough to keep you out of trouble. Matching characters was out, as was possible in Moscow, since the written Japanese language was incomprehensible unless you knew the code. A trip on the metro was always confusing and always an adventure!
As a matter of fact whenever we looked unsure and confused, which was about two-thirds of the time, a sympathetic Japanese would come up and ask us how they could help us. This usually involved making sure we had the right tickets, got to the right track and in some cases, got on the right train. (Many years later I am still impressed and deeply appreciative of all of the help we continued to get from native Tokyo-ians in navigating around their city. It has not been surpassed anywhere else I have been.) That Saturday morning was no different. Tim and I stood there looking confused and even at 4:45 am on a Saturday received help from the lone other person who was at the station. He pointed us in the right direction and we emerged from the metro station near the fish market 20 minutes later.
Even though it was ridiculously early on a Saturday morning the streets surrounding the market were alive with activity. Spilling out into the streets surrounding the actual fish market were vendors selling every possible food stuff, both fresh and processed. I longingly spared a glance at the booths as we passed. The foodie in me wanted to stop and examine some of the produce, most of which I did not recognize, but we were on a mission. We had to find the large tuna auction before 6 am or we might miss it.
Vendors at the fish market
The market itself was under a large pavilion reminiscent of a US football stadium, but with a lower ceiling. In short, it was huge. Under the roof, clustered in the center of the building, were row upon row of vendors all displaying produce from the sea. The aisles between the rows were narrow, only allowing two people to pass-if they were cozy. It was a cornucopia of color, texture, sight and sound but exploring had to wait-the giant tuna were waiting. Around the perimeter of the building were wider aisles in which small golf cart sized trucks were constantly moving, furiously ferrying fish and produce from their original containers, either right off the boats or from the freezers to the various vendors. Even though it was a busy working fish market there were noticeable numbers of tourists walking around. But as a tourist you received no quarter. The cart drivers were focused on their tasks and they were not stopping for anything so you definitely had to stay on your toes. On the building’s perimeter side of the cart expressway along one side of the pavilion we found the tuna auction room. I could not believe the size of the tuna laying on the floor waiting for sale. They were huge, hundreds of pounds each, and there were near a hundred of them. We got to the auction with about 30 minutes remaining and I could only imagine how many tuna had already been sold and carted off. Even with only the short exposure I had had to the fish market I could barely understand how this amount of produce could be pulled from the oceans day after day, year after year, and never run out. And this was only one fish market in one country. My mind boggled at this inescapable evidence of how large our oceans are and the amount of life that stays hidden from those of use unable to penetrate the deeps. Staggering!
More vendors at wor
The auction room was cold, kind of like a big refrigerator, and the floor was wet, due to the occasional hosing down. The bidders all had rubber boots and coats on as well as baseball hats upon which sat their number. The fish were frozen, brought in by fishing vessels anywhere from 10pm the night before until 4am and placed in a freezer until the time for the auction to begin. We were not the only tourists walking around in the auction room, stopping to take a picture with a particularly large tuna, but we did not seem to be disturbing the process. (I believe they now limit the number of tourists that are allowed in the auction room.) It was kind of surreal with the tourists mixing and mingling with the buyers- two worlds intersecting but not interfering with each other. As we watched, one of the tunas, having been sold, was carted off on the back of one of the mini-trucks. We followed and saw that it was taken a few rooms down to a machine shop in which there was a band saw, table saw and several large hooks. Apparently this is where the large fish was brought to be cut down for transport or sale in smaller pieces. Following the prep room the tuna was transferred to the packing room. In it were boxes, crates, and tons of foam ready to receive the fish. The room was connected to a dock near which stood hundreds of refrigerated trucks, standing by ready to transport the fish all over Japan, This was an operation that went on every day of the year. Again my mind boggled.
Tuna auction room
Having seen the auction, and satisfied my curiosity, we next focused our attention on the center of the building and started randomly roaming down the rows of vendors. Due to the emphasis that the Japanese place on presentation every vendor’s stall looked like a work of art. As with the stalls surrounding the fish market I saw many products that I did not recognize. This adventure took place in the days before the smartphone and the tablet. If I had had access to one of these modern gadgets I could have spent all day there trying to identify some of the weird looking sea creatures on display before me. Very soon we were in sensory overload and simply numbly walked from one stall to the next, recognizing little and wondering how people could eat some of the unidentifiable items that we saw. Again we ran into other tourists, mostly westerners, taking pictures, as we were, of the artistic and the weird. After about an hour and a half of taking it all in, it was time for breakfast. On the menu: fresh sushi of course!
Eating in Japan is worth a whole new entry so look for that in the future. In the meantime if you want to learn more about the Tsukiji fish market here is a link. They have pages in both Japanese and English: http://www.tsukiji-market.or.jp/tukiji_e.htm
It is definitely an adventure worth discovering!