The simple pleasure of old school Japanese izakaya

Hello again from a mercifully cooler Tokyo, where the truly intense summer heat and humidity have finally abated, which means my Tokyo Photowalk Tours are in full swing once again. That said, this month’s offering was inspired by a welcome evening in an old school bar (izakaya) after a long and brutally hot day spent exploring some new locations just north of the capital.

Famous food and infamously long lines

Japan in general, and perhaps Tokyo more specifically, are well known for Michelin starred restaurants, along with top-rated eateries for the likes of sushi and ramen. Establishments that not surprisingly require reservations planned well in advance, or possibly even worse, the patience of a saint, as the queues on any given day will always be more substantial than the food on offer.

However, in complete contrast to such places, are the country’s old, local and invariably very small izakaya. Tiny retreats that arguably offer a far more authentic, ahem, taste of real Japanese life.

Grilled food and down-to-earth good times

Entering such bars can be more than a little intimidating. Even now, after all these years, sliding open a door to a completely unknown interior is something I invariably do with a good deal of trepidation.

The effort though is almost always worth it, and if everything aligns, the owner will be getting on in years, the decor will be similarly aged, and last but not least, general cleanliness will be of little concern. All of which create an atmosphere like no other. In many ways something very similar to the machi chuka restaurants mentioned in my July newsletter.

The atmosphere and looks of a long past era

It really is no exaggeration to say it’s like stepping back into a different era, with the walls and proprietors full of stories and past lives.

Little spaces where time has stood still, and with no need for any of the forced decorum deemed necessary in those aforementioned and more famous locations, they feel like a home from home. An escape from the modern world where you can have some decent food and drink, while at the same time feeling that somehow, in some way, you briefly at least fully belong.

Here now but quite possibly gone tomorrow

The advanced age of many of the owners, plus the constant changes Tokyo in particular is going through, does mean that many are on borrowed time, and the ones below are some I’ve been to that I know for sure no longer exist. Sad losses, and the likes of which we’ll probably never see again.

Photographing in such intimate spaces

Lastly, photographing in such small places can be tricky, but while I always have my camera ready and hanging by my side, I generally don’t even touch it until the surprise of my presence has died down, because as a very obvious foreigner, I don’t exactly blend in.

Even then, I’ll have some food and a beer. Likely another one of the latter. And then, with nobody the slightest bit bothered anymore, and ideally having had a chat with owner, I’ll try and get a few photos. Some shot discreetly. Others more openly. It all depends on the vibe, along with the kind of images I’d like to get. An approach that up to now at least has always worked well. Plus even if the photos don’t come out as planned, I’ll have enjoyed a fun evening anyway.

A couple of favourites as prints

Many of the photos above are favourites both for the resultant image and the memories associated with them, but these two I’m attached to primarily because of how they look, so both will be 20% off until the end of October. There’s a link to my print shop here if you are interested.

All of which wraps up this month’s newsletter. As always, thanks ever so much for reading this far, and speak to you in the next one.

Cheers

Lee