The view from the Bridge

Having completed three of our major tasks in Tokyo - shopping like maniacs, taking advantage of the local maids, and watching pretty girls whipped to within an inch of our delicate sensibilities - the Delightful Miss E, Sergeant M and myself visited Tokyo's other great tourist attraction, the Bridge at Harajuku. Those of you familiar with the "Fruits" book will be aware that the Bridge is where all the crazily dressed kids go on Sundays to sit about preening themselves and being too cool for school (which is probably where they are from).

Harajuku is a pretty cool place, about the size of Melbourne with similar buildings and a similar feel (but no trams). Off the two main streets it is as quiet as the grave, and the houses are very pretty. It has a singular absence of skyscrapers and a very large number of cafes, clothing stores and, of course, hairdressers. The hairdressers are very cool and Harajuku probably has more clothing stores than Melbourne. Also, on a Sunday afternoon, probably more people (but less Greeks). At the top end of Harajuku is a very quaint railway station built for the Olympics, and a huge park whose entrance is dominated by a massive red Torii gate. I was not on that bridge to look at shrines, though, because the bridge is itself a Shrine to modern pop sub-culture, and Japan has modern sub-culture in spades. Sadly, however, 99% of the people on the bridge were foreign tourists taking pictures of the locals without even asking. The locals ignored the whole thing or posed nonchalantly. There were not many of them either, though I was only on the bridge for 2 ten minute stretches. They gather in little groups and hang about chatting - one group had a little birthday party, and another group were eating their lunch. The only difference between them and any other group of lounging students was that their clothes were crazy.

The girl here is in my opinion the best dressed of the day, though by far not the craziest (this honour is reserved for the mermaid twins - see the Illustrations for more pictures of the crazy crew). Many of the fashions on the Bridge were a kind of gothic version of Japanese national costume, which point I find rather fascinating, and contrary to popular myth there were no gothic lolitas. I was saddened by the huge number of tourists taking pictures, and the sense of being at a perfromance in someone's living room, uninvited. Still my Japanese is now good enough to ask a complete stranger if I can take their photo, and I think I used it judiciously. Taking someone else's photo without asking is generally something of a faux pas hereabouts (every Japanese person I show these photos to asks me first of all - did you ask for permission?), so I am glad I did. Later in the afternoon the kids I photographed on the Bridge were yelling at tourists to leave them alone, so I think I probably did a wise thing. Next time I am in Tokyo (and there will be a next time) I sincerely hope that my Japanese is good enough to ask a few more salient questions. I will be sorely disappointed if it is not...