終電後、東京 | 桜咲く神田川を端から端まで歩く | Street Photography

終電後、東京 | 桜咲く神田川を端から端まで歩く | Street Photography

Thank you for riding with us. This is Kichijoji. Kichijoji. Please make sure you don’t leave anything behind on the train. The doors will be closing shortly. Please be careful. Platform 1 doors are closing. Please be careful. All trains departing from this station for today have finished service. Customers remaining on the platform, please proceed to the ticket gates. Good evening. This time, we’re starting from Kichijoji. There’s a river called the Kanda River. The Kanda River starts near Kichijoji Station here, originating in Inokashira Park, passes through Akihabara, and near Asakusabashi Station, it joins the Sumida River. Its total length is 24.6 km. This time, over two days, I’ll walk the Kanda River from end to end, with cherry blossoms in full bloom. I actually wanted to walk it all in one day, but my neck started to hurt. So, on the first day, today, April 4th, I’ll walk to Yodobashi, near Shinjuku. On the second day, three days later on the 7th, I’ll walk from Yodobashi to the endpoint at the Sumida River. First, I’m heading to Inokashira Park. So, what does an “Onshi” Park mean? It means land that was owned by the Japanese Imperial Family was developed into a park. Since it was bestowed to the public by the Imperial Family, it has “Onshi Park” in its name. In Tokyo, there are four Onshi Parks and two Onshi Gardens. Ueno Onshi Park is probably the one most of you know, right? Inokashira Park opened on May 1, 1917. It’s a park with quite a long history. When you think of parks in Tokyo, where do you all think of? Personally, it’s Ueno Park, Inokashira Park, and Yoyogi Park, but I feel like many people also mention Showa Kinen Park. And Shinjuku Gyoen, too. Shinjuku Gyoen has an entrance fee, so it’s more of a garden than a park, I guess. Since it’s cherry blossom season, I thought there might be people here all night, but as expected, there’s no one around. Parties are allowed until 10 PM. They’re blooming, aren’t they? They’re in full bloom. I think I’ll walk around the pond. This place called “Ochanomizu” is where the water springs out. The Kanda River was originally a combination of the Kanda Josui, an artificial water supply channel built to provide drinking water to central Edo, and a spillway channel built to protect against flood damage. Tokugawa Ieyasu used this water to make tea, so it was named Ochanomizu (literally “tea water”). This is Ochanomizu. Unfortunately, the water isn’t springing out now. They only pump water out during the daytime. As development progressed around Inokashira Park, the spring water gradually decreased, and the water quality deteriorated. The apartment building standing right above this spot is said to be one reason why water stopped flowing from Ochanomizu. Well then, I’ll head to the starting point of the Kanda River. Hyotanbashi Bridge. I crossed here earlier, but just ahead… Suimonbashi Bridge. This is the source of the Kanda River. It says the Kanda River merges with the Zenpukuji River and Myorenji River, and flows into the Sumida River. Alright, let’s set off. Keio Inokashira Line, Inokashira-koen Station. It was raining today, so it’s quite muddy. I was worried that a lot of the cherry blossoms might have fallen, but they were completely fine. There’s a term “hanabie” (chill during cherry blossom season), and it’s exactly like that; since the cherry blossoms bloomed, we’ve had a string of suddenly cold days. The Kanda River truly flows right through the heart of central Tokyo, cutting across it horizontally. It’s a river that has suffered considerably from flooding, but now, numerous large-scale flood control measures have been taken, and it hasn’t flooded since 2005. Although, that’s still quite recent, isn’t it? Central Tokyo has been developed to the point where there’s hardly any trace of nature left. But no matter if you put a river in a culvert or whatever you do, the fact that you can’t completely eliminate it is somehow interesting to me. Although, they did undertake the massive project of diverting the Tone River eastward back in the 1600s. Perhaps the Kanda River might have been diverted somewhere too. My shoes are making a strange noise. They’re pretty good hiking shoes, but I wear them every time I go out for photos and videos, so even though it’s only been about half a year, they’re quite worn down. Houses have started to line up right next to the river. This must also be the result of various flood control measures. Since they were built after the risk of flooding disappeared (or lessened), many of the properties are newly built. Places that are really prone to flooding, as I think we’ll see later, have become water intake points to catch overflowing water. Kanda River. Keio Inokashira Line, Mitakadai Station. It seems there’s no path along the river, so I’ll take a side street. Looks like I can go along the river. What an impressive cherry tree. The way it’s illuminated by this apartment building is somehow nice. A long row of cherry trees. Urban plants, they’re all left there by someone’s intention, aren’t they? Cherry trees are especially special. Ordinary street trees have the potential for branches to fall, so they wouldn’t be allowed to keep branches that have grown out so freely like this. Most of the parts that spread out horizontally would be cut off. However, with cherry trees, not all of them, of course, but many are left to spread out widely, and the difference is obvious at a glance. I think we’ll be able to see some today, but they might be protruding into the road, or have very low branches. These would definitely be cut if they were ordinary trees. That just shows the strong will of the local residents to preserve the cherry trees, and the fact that this takes shape and appears in the city is what I find really interesting. That’s the Keio Inokashira Line train depot. Nice shape, isn’t it? Right here now, this is the starting point. Still quite a ways to go. When I thought about how to capture cherry blossoms, of course, taking photos is good, but by walking along a river flowing through the city like this, I wanted to convey that there are countless cherry trees in the city, so I’m filming this video. Of course, it’s nice to see famous cherry trees, but I wanted people to know that cherry trees are all over the city like this, and that they’re integrated into daily life. This Kanda River itself is interesting. The scenery really changes as you get closer to the city center, so I’d really like all of you to walk it too. I can see a large chimney. It’s probably Takaido. Is that a fire? It’s pitch black. Unusual color. Keio Inokashira Line, Takaido Station. Beautiful. Sorry. My neck hurts from here on, so you’ll hear the sound of me periodically readjusting the strap. To the restroom. It’s a spacious park, isn’t it? Places like this often have an underground reservoir, but this one doesn’t seem to. Temperature: 4.2°C. It says it’s another 2.3 km to the border with Nakano Ward. Usually, they’re pruned like the one on the right. It’s amazing that such a large tree has been left. Lost and found items are placed where they’re easy to see. I can feel the kindness. Kanda River / Kan-nana Underground Regulating Reservoir. This is one of the water intake points I mentioned earlier for flood prevention. When the water level of the Kanda River rises, water flows from here into the underground reservoir. Underground, there’s a tunnel-shaped reservoir 12.5m in diameter and 4.5km long. By building such large-scale facilities, they prevent disasters. The reason something this extensive is needed is because urbanization has progressed, and the ground is paved with concrete, so the land no longer absorbs water, which is also a cause. If you prevent disasters like this, land prices along the river rise, and more people concentrate there. When more people concentrate, the potential damage becomes greater, so even larger reservoirs continue to be built. In this way, a sort of vicious cycle, or perhaps just a cycle, is created. And cities become more and more like fortresses. Living in Tokyo means being on the side that promotes this, but I can’t help but worry about how far it will go. Living in a city, not just Tokyo, unless you’re originally from there, a considerable amount of money goes to real estate. That’s true whether you’re living there or opening a shop. In cities, the power of landowners is overwhelmingly stronger compared to outside of cities. People who don’t own land constantly pay a percentage of their income as rent, and if they start a business, they pay even more. Personally, the hardest thing about living in a city is that I can’t collect books. Especially photo books. It becomes impossible to accumulate things you can’t throw away. I think this, as a result, manifests itself in all sorts of consumer behavior. For people renting in the city, it’s ultimately a temporary place to live, so perhaps they’re forced into a kind of ephemeral consumption. Especially when it comes to material “things.” I find myself thinking I can’t buy precious things I can’t throw away. Is that okay? It’s something I worry about. Of course, by living in Tokyo, in my case, I get to take various photos, and I’m able to have various experiences, so it’s not entirely bad. But I no longer have a hometown to return to, so where should I seek a hometown? Can this rented life in Tokyo become a hometown? Is it a place I can call home? I have these anxious feelings. The very value of seeking a hometown might be a bit old-fashioned itself. Looking at these houses lined up like this, I think everyone who bought one has made a really big decision. Even if you have the money, the decision to live there for the rest of your life… I don’t think it’s something many people can easily do. Even when I’m moving, I can’t make up my mind. There are various constraints, and I’m sure there are circumstances, but even so, deciding where to live in this vast Tokyo… I don’t think it’s something one can easily decide. Changing the battery. This is the Tokyo Metro Marunouchi Line train depot. Nice color. This is the confluence with the Zenpukuji River. Wadabori Park, located along the Zenpukuji River, I’ve been there once, and it felt more like a forest than an open square. It was really nice. Tokyo Metro Marunouchi Line, Nakano-fujimicho Station. Large beef bowl, 680 yen. My neck is starting to hurt quite a bit, so I’m debating whether to go home. This area is interesting because of the national pattern (referring to something specific, likely missed context without visuals or prior knowledge). I’ve decided to walk a little further. This “After the Last Train, Tokyo” series originally started as neck rehabilitation. My neck has gotten quite a bit better, but it seems it won’t completely heal beyond this. On cold days like today, my neck hurts. I want to find a different way to carry the camera instead of around my neck, but carrying it on my hip is also awkward for walking, and attaching it to my backpack eventually puts weight on one side and is tough, so it’s quite a dilemma. This is Nishi-Shinjuku. Yodobashi Bridge. My neck is hurting quite a bit, so I think I’ll head home from the nearest station today. The nearest station here is Nakano-sakaue Station on the Marunouchi Line. Three days later, April 7th. The train stopped here is the last train to Nakano-fujimicho. The last train you can take from this station, Nakano-sakaue, is the one bound for Nakano-fujimicho. Trains towards Ogikubo and Honancho, and towards Shinjuku and Ikebukuro have all finished service. Day two. I took the last train from Nakano-sakaue. From Nakano-sakaue, the Marunouchi Line splits into a line going to Ogikubo and a line going to Honancho. The stopped train on the left is the one going to Honancho, the last train. I got off at Nakano-sakaue once a long time ago, but I didn’t know the line split here and made a mistake transferring. I’m back at Yodobashi Bridge. Yodobashi (Stagnant Bridge) is so named because the river appeared to stagnate here. Indeed, the flow might be slow. Also, Yodobashi Camera is named so because they had a store around here. Many overseas viewers watch this channel, and I wonder if many of you know the Yodobashi Camera illuminations in Shinjuku. This cluster of apartment buildings… I wouldn’t mind trying to live here once. If you look it up, a studio apartment is a little over 200,000 yen. Compared to urban areas overseas, it might be quite a bargain. But if I had 200,000 yen, what would I do… I might think of using that money for something else. Alright, let’s set off. I’m wondering whether to go right or left. It doesn’t all fit in the photo. I’m glad this video can capture this sprawling line of trees that doesn’t fit in a photo. It seems there’s a shrine back there. It’s interesting how it’s sticking out. There are a few leaves mixed in. The remaining distance of the Kanda River within Shinjuku Ward is 3.3 km. Kotakibashi Bridge. That’s a truly incredible number of cherry trees. It’s been a continuous row of cherry trees since I started today. Neatly pruned, they extend towards the river, not towards the road. Started from number 4, Yodobashi Bridge, and I’ve come to number 17, Shinhoribashi Bridge. Within Shinjuku Ward, it goes up to number 33. Beyond that is Bunkyo Ward. It’s a dead end. It seems there’s no path along the river for a while. I’ll take a detour and walk along a side street. Yeah, there’s still no path along the river. I managed to get back to the path along the river, but it looks like there won’t be any cherry trees for a while. Todahira Bridge. These are the tracks of the Toden Arakawa Line. Another impressive row of cherry trees from here. I’ve reached number 28. Starting from Yodobashi Bridge… It says “Goal,” but this is the border of Shinjuku Ward, and the Kanda River itself continues beyond here. The fence is cut to accommodate the cherry tree. Amazing shape. Finally, the goal. This side is Shinjuku Ward, and from here it’s Bunkyo Ward. On the left, “Minamoto,” meaning 17.6 km from the start of the Kanda River. It’s another 7 km to the endpoint at the Sumida River. To the restroom. Nostalgic. This is the slide I went down during the Yotsuya episode. Cherry blossom petals are flowing by. This spot is nice. This is Edogawabashi Bridge. It says “21 cherry trees,” but it feels like there are many more. Regular beef bowl, 460 yen. Edogawabashi Bridge. Running above is the Shuto Expressway No. 5 Ikebukuro Line. Kamonbashi Bridge. I wonder what this closed-off space is. It seems there’s one by each pillar, but they’re all closed off. Furukawabashi Bridge. Cherry blossoms here and there. Nishi-Edogawabashi Bridge. It’s apparently called Nishi-Edogawabashi because it’s built in Nishi-Edogawacho. Bunkyo Ward has a strong image of having a lot of these historical displays. I often see signs about slopes as well. Kozakurabashi Bridge. As the name suggests, there are small cherry trees. Why Kozakurabashi is called Kozakurabashi… it’s not written here. Those were nice cherry trees. Shin-Shiratoribashi Bridge. Shin-Ryukeibashi Bridge. Ryukeibashi Bridge. So the previous bridge was a replacement for this bridge. As I wrote before, expressways often pass over rivers where land acquisition isn’t necessary. The reason driving is difficult is because the road follows the shape of the river. Here too, for a long stretch, the expressway is above. There are people living here. Perhaps the reason they blocked off the space under the pillars earlier was to prevent people from living there. A sudden ramen stall. Looks like it’s being used? It’s clean, isn’t it? There’s another one. It’s neatly organized. Regarding food stalls, it’s said there used to be various kinds, but at least now, you can no longer open a new one. This is because the public health center won’t issue a permit. So, if you find a food stall in Tokyo, please do try it. The ones I know of are at Suidobashi Station; food stalls sometimes appear there at night. Perhaps that was the stall from earlier. I’ve seen umbrellas like this many times. I believe someone who found it left it in a visible place so someone else can use it. Looking towards Edogawabashi on the Kanda River. A large pedestrian bridge. Countless cherry blossom petals. I somehow like the view here. Why is it protruding? That’s a somewhat scary sound. Many have already fallen, but the weeping cherry trees here are fantastic, so please come and see them. Shin-Misakibashi Bridge. Another umbrella. Looking at the Kanda River towards the Sumida River. I rarely have the chance to take a picture of myself, so since I’m here, shall I get one taken at a photo booth? 1600 yen with data. That’s expensive, as expected. Just printing is 1000 yen. Still quite a bit. Taking a picture in a photo booth… it’s probably been since high school. The exposure seems a bit dark. I like this green iron bridge at Suidobashi. I wrote about that when I walked around Suidobashi, didn’t I? Tokyo Dome. I’d like to stay at this hotel once. This is quite a steep slope here. Since I’m heading towards Surugadai, and “dai” is in the place name, it must be on a plateau. Apparently, there used to be a bridge here. Up to Iidabashi (where the pedestrian bridge was earlier), it was called the Edo River, and beyond that, it was called the Kanda River, it seems. The train runs quite far below, making it look like a gorge, but as mentioned earlier, the Kanda River was artificially created, and this gorge-like terrain was also artificially created. During the Edo period, many large-scale construction projects that would likely not be done today were carried out, which is truly surprising. This is the Ochanomizu stone monument. In summary, good water sprang from a temple called Korin-ji at the foot of Mount Kanda, and Lord Tokugawa Hidetada used it to make tea, so it came to be called Ochanomizu. So, the origin of the name is the same as the Ochanomizu at the starting point. Nevertheless, I never knew it used to be a mountain called “Mount Kanda.” I somehow thought it was a plateau, but it was a mountain. This means the Kanda River was dug through the middle of a mountain. That’s an incredible construction project. The construction was around 1620, so it was naturally dug by hand. The first train will arrive in about 5 minutes. So this recently famous scenery was also artificially created. Since I’m here, I want to film a train passing by. The bridge I just crossed is Hijiribashi Bridge. This bridge here. Yushima Seido and Nikolai-do Cathedral face each other across the Kanda River, and this bridge connects them, so it’s called Hijiribashi (Holy Bridge). I like this cherry tree. A lost item. Shoheibashi Bridge. It’s been trimmed. This is where Manseibashi Station used to be. It was originally a terminal station like Tokyo Station, but with the opening of Tokyo Station and Akihabara Station, it gradually declined, and the station building burned down in the Great Kanto Earthquake. A temporary station building was constructed, but it lost its function as a station in 1943. The stairs from the station era still remain. After that, it became the Transportation Museum, and then the current mAAch ecute, its history is written here. A timeline is written here. This is a railway rail, indicating the location of the statue of Commander Hirose Takeo. Manseibashi Bridge. This is Akihabara. Akihabara Station. Kanda Fureai Bridge. This is the Kanda River towards the Sumida River. Just a little more. The New Year’s Eve from the previous video was here at Yanamori Shrine. Izumibashi Bridge. Apparently, there used to be an embankment. I’m used to walking around this area, so for me, it’s a familiar sight. I crossed here in the very first video. Buildings are packed tightly together. Tokyo Metro Hibiya Line, Akihabara Station. This whole area originally had many rice storehouses, and disaster preparedness awareness was high. During the Great Kanto Earthquake, it’s said this was practically the only area where no large-scale fires occurred. Thanks to that, I hear that the surrounding towns, including this one, didn’t suffer from food shortages after the earthquake. Mikurabashi Bridge. Having a toilet and a small plaza next to the bridge, as I wrote before, is a remnant of the Great Kanto Earthquake reconstruction, when bridges, plazas, and police boxes were built as a set of three. Saemonbashi Bridge. I can see yakatabune (houseboats). The connection from the Kanda River to the Sumida River has many yakatabune boarding areas. This is a yakatabune boarding area. Here too. I’d like to ride one sometime. This is the end point of the Kanda River, the confluence with the Sumida River. Asakusabashi Bridge. It’s the bridge that the station is named after. It seems the Toei Subway Asakusa Line runs 3 meters underground. That’s much shallower than I thought. Yanagibashi Bridge. There’s a relief of a hair ornament, a remnant of its days as a geisha district. We’ve arrived. The Kanda River has merged with the Sumida River. That was long, wasn’t it? Since it was split into two days, it wasn’t that far in terms of distance, but the change in the city scenery was incredible. The cherry blossoms were truly beautiful. It’s nice to sit and look at large trees or in famous parks, but the rows of cherry trees along this Kanda River were breathtaking. Next time, I’d like to see the Meguro River or something similar. Shall we head home? Thank you for watching again this time. I’d like to go for another walk again. If you have any requests, please leave a comment. Thank you very much.

終電後の東京を写真を撮りながら歩いています。

今回は満開の桜が立ち並ぶ神田川を、その始まりの点である吉祥寺井の頭公園から、終点である隅田川との合流地点までの約25㎞を2日間に分けて歩きました。

キャプションにはコメンタリー字幕を入れてあります。気まぐれでその時思ったことを書いています。

終電後、東京

今回のルート
https://www.google.com/maps/d/u/0/edit?mid=1kupBHLSYeXjLe0DLB-uncyzhjDO3YfY&usp=sharing

終電後、東京　フォトアルバム
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終電後、東京　コンタクトシート
歩きながら撮影した写真が無編集・無選別で入っています
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Street 3D Scanコレクション
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