Hamarikyu Gardens, Tsukiji Fish Market

I said at the end of yesterday’s afternoon post that I wasn’t going to decide what I’d do today until breakfast. Then, I’d choose a starting destination and proceed on a somewhat serendipitous journey through my day based on what’s close to that, and what’s close to the next stop, and so on through the day.

However, the choice of Hamarikyu Gardens as suggested by the title of this post didn’t adhere to that process precisely.

I checked the weather before selecting my first sight of the day. The forecast called for an overcast, but dry morning and a very rainy afternoon. That led me to decide, instead, to select an indoor activity for the afternoon and work back from that rather than forward from a starting destination.

One of my guidebooks recommended the Edo-Tokyo Museum as a good starting museum for a visit to Tokyo because it provides an overview of the city’s history. Common sense is uncommon for me. So, I don’t know what impelled me to do it, but before obsessively locking an afternoon destination into my emerging plan for the day, I visited the museum’s website.

There, I learned that the museum is currently closed for major renovations. Because, of course, it is. It’s a testament to the organization’s strength that the DLJSSIA (Don’t Let Joel See Stuff International Association) has so many and so far-flung active chapters.

Giving up on finding an indoor activity for the afternoon, I decided to return to my previous non-plan plan of picking a starting destination and then letting the day unfold from there.

I serendipitously decided to start at Hamarikyu Gardens. After that, it was just a 20-minute or so walk to the Tsukiji Fish Market.

Hamarikyu Gardens

Hamarikyu Gardens is an oasis in the middle of the megalopolis of Tokyo. Surrounded by some of the city’s skyscrapers, the large park is a refuge from Tokyo’s hustle and bustle.

Entrance to Hamarikyu Gardens is not free, but it’s only ¥300 (about $2.75 CDN) for regular adults or ¥150 ($1.37) for decrepit adults. Not being able to come up with a quantifiable measure of decrepitude, they use a surrogate criterion of 65 years of age or older.

If I were naming it, I’d call it Hamarikyu Park, rather than Hamarikyu Gardens. When I hear “gardens,” I think of flowers. Hamarikyu Gardens has one decent-sized section of, to coin an oxymoronic phrase, cultivated wildflowers. But, for the most part, the grounds include trees, grass, ponds, and canals. It’s all very beautiful, but I consider it more of a park than a garden. But that might just be me. I live by my own vocabulary sometimes.

I read that if you’re in Hamarikyu Gardens at the right time in the spring, there are colourful blossoms on the plum and cherry trees in the park. This is fall, not spring.

Ah, you say, but the autumn. The changing of the leaves brings splendid colours in some parts of the world in the fall. Yes, it does. Apparently, here too. But I read that, to see the fall colours in the park, you have to be there in late November. Fall colours come later here than back home. Today is October 31. The leaves were all still green. But, Happy Halloween!

Despite the lack of vibrant colours except for the section with cultivated wildflowers, Hamarikyu Gardens is still lovely.

A teahouse sits on stilts and juts into one of the ponds of Hamarikyu Gardens. I went inside, taking off my shoes before doing so, as is required of everybody who visits or works in the teahouse. They serve only matcha tea and, optionally, a Japanese confection.

The teahouse offers seating on mats on the floor or at regular tables. I decided to go traditional and had a seat on one of the mats, where I drank my tea and ate my confection.

I was in that teahouse when I was in Tokyo about seven years ago. Back then, they provided a sheet of paper with instructions in English on how to ceremonially drink your tea. They didn’t provide that this time.

However, I believe, sipping it unhurriedly and meditating as you sit, cross-legged on the floor is part of the concept. As I mindfully and slowly drank my tea, I meditated on that ancient question of whether and how a man my age is going to be able to get the heck up from a cross-legged position on the floor. Maybe I should’ve chosen a table.

Nevertheless, when the time came, I was able to rise without too much difficulty. Sometimes I surprise myself. And it took only seconds for the pins and needles in my then sleeping right foot to disappear. True, it was 244 seconds. But it was just seconds.

Once I got some feeling back in my foot, I retrieved my shoes, left the teahouse, put on my shoes, and continued my journey.

Hamarikyu Gardens also contains a duck hunting ground and a duck memorial. That seemed kind of strange to me. It occurred to me that they probably could’ve done without the memorial if the hunting ground never existed. Just a suggestion.

The hunting ground isn’t active these days. But the hunting blinds are still there with some grounds behind them. A sign explains how duck hunting was done there back in the day.

A sign beside the monument explains that, “From 1778 until the days of Hama-rikyu, duck hunting was enjoyed on the kamoba (duck hunting sites) in the gardens. This monument was built by falconers in 1935, during the Hama-rikyu days, to pray for the repose of the souls of the ducks that were hunted there.”

Well, isn’t that nice? I hope those duck souls are having a blessed afterlife.

The duck hunting grounds and monument were close to one of the exits from Hamarikyu Gardens. I headed out and walked over to the Tsukiji Fish Market.

Tsukiji Fish Market

The guidebooks refer to this as the Tsukiji Fish Market, but it’s more accurately called the Tsukiji Outer Market.

About the “Outer” part of the official name, there is no inner fish market. There used to be. There isn’t now.

The inner market used to include a building where major tuna auctions were held. That building is gone. There’s a construction site there at the moment. The tuna auctions are now held in a new, larger, and more modern building elsewhere in Tokyo. If memory serves, the move took place just before or just after I visited Tokyo for the first and, so far, only other time, in 2018. I didn’t see it then, either.

The tuna auctions are supposed to be quite entertaining. But they happen fairly early in the morning. I don’t happen fairly early in the morning. Plus, I read that getting a spot in the gallery to watch the auction depends on winning a lottery for that honour. Needless to say, I won’t be watching a tuna auction. I don’t want to experience either the dawn’s early light or the disappointment of losing the lottery, just for the possibility of maybe witnessing the excitement of some dead fish being sold.

The outer market, however, is where the charm oozes anyway. It’s the equivalent of, I think, about three blocks long and one or two blocks wide, with some side streets jutting off it. The streets are lined with small, gritty shops. Most of them sell fish and seafood products, primarily for eating there.

In most cases, you have to eat standing, but there are also some small sit-down restaurants, mostly with tables or counters and stools, not chairs.

The offerings in the market include both sushi and grilled fish and seafood.

While fish and seafood dominate, there are also some shops selling grilled steak or chicken. And there are a few green grocers and souvenir shops.

Today is Friday, and the Tsukiji Fish Market was jam-packed. Walking through the crowds was difficult at times. To be fair, I was there at lunchtime. It might not be as crowded outside of mealtimes.

Speaking of lunchtime. I had a couple of grilled scallops from one of the stalls, cooked fish balls on a skewer from another, and a large deep-fried, breaded shrimp from yet another. They were all very tasty.

Sated, I was ready to put a bow on my morning. Do you know how difficult it is to put a bow on a morning? The darned thing keeps slipping off. But I finally managed it, so I’ll end this post here.