2000年5月 元玉川上水の散歩

I stumbled onto this scene on May 2nd, 2000.  It had a feel of history and mystery to it, and a tranquility, accented with a feeling of risk... "Is it okay to go down there...?" I wondered.  What was this wonderful green space - clearly a former path for water - doing hiding in the center of Tokyo?

I later met someone living in the area and they told me it was the former path of the Kanda River, which I believed until (years later) discovering an old map upon which it was clearly labeled as being part of the Tamagawa Canal.  I've found since then (when trying to learn about the history of other things), that people are often mistaken, and some (many?) just make stuff up.  And this for not very old history - the kind where you can discover the truth fairly easily with a little time invested in research.  It makes me wonder how accurate historical accounts of things are....

This is how my unexpected adventure (a simple enough experience, but it felt like an adventure) began.  I looked down this street and thought "I wonder what's down there at the end of the road?"  When I got down there, I walked over the foundations of a house that had been recently(?) demolished and discovered these stairs leading down into the former waterway.

I hadn't planned on going down there - in fact I was running shy on time, as I had to get back to work, but the area was inviting and interesting, so I walked down the stairs, thinking "I guess this was whoever lived in the missing house's private access...."

A contributing factor to pushing ahead was the path through the grass.  Clearly, the area was accessed enough by others to make that path, so presumably it would be okay to walk down it and see where it went.

As I walked along, I kept looking over at the houses and apartments on one side (with a park on the other side, over the high fence) and thinking how nice it must be to live in a convenient area in central Tokyo with all that tranquil green on one side....

As I walked along, I daydreamed about living in one place or another, and wondered what had happened to the missing water.  I wasn't afraid of any creatures in the grass, but since this time (in 2000), I've been stung by one of those giant centipedes, come face-to-face with one of those giant wasps, and come across snakes on three different occasions - including coming within inches of stepping on a poisonous one that was lying on a mountain road I was walking on.

And so, the more time goes by, the more I have become leery of tall grass and lots of green.  Being right in the middle of Tokyo, this strip of green was probably about as safe as it gets, but if I stumbled upon something like this now, I would be more reluctant to go marching through the tall grass.

That said, stretches like this with the grass not so tall and the path fairly wide look safe enough.

That apartment building makes me wonder all over again what it would be like to live there.  To come home via typical Tokyo streets and then go out on the balcony for a look at all that tranquil green.

Residences along this former waterway must be quite expensive.  Looking at these pictures and remembering the walk, I recall one house in particular that looked like it would be perfect to live in.

It was high up above a section of that concrete retaining wall with a decent sized yard and enough setback from the edge that you wouldn't worry about it tumbling over that artificial cliff in an earthquake.  It looked really ideal and I imagining living there and having a backyard party in the spring (too hot in the summer).

Oh, and there was this compact tent!  I wondered who was camping there.  It could be a good spot, but out of sight of people who would chase you away is also out of sight of people who could help if someone attacked.

I may have been daydreaming about other things as well, but I remember it as a time focused on the ambiance of the space with the unanswered question (unanswered at the time that is, I know now) about the history of the waterway and continually imagining how it would be to live in one place or another.

There were some older wooden houses quite near the path, and while they looked cozy, they also seemed a bit exposed. Probably there would be some nervousness living there - like living in the wilderness somewhere.

Which is why the houses and apartments up high above the space seemed so appealing.  Living there, you would less likely be accessing the space for a stroll, but you could see the space and not have to feel nervous about it at night.

And so where did this former waterway lead?  On this first visit, I ran out of time, but on a later visit I discovered that it didn't go much further than I had ventured.  At a road, it took a sharp turn to the right and went into a tunnel - which sounds exciting, but looking in the barred off entrance, it only went back about four or five meters to where the tunnel had been walled off.

At the time, I just figured that was the end of it, but thinking about it now, I wonder if that tunnel continued (continues?) on the other side of the wall....

There are stages to exploring something new.  First you contemplate it - wondering if you should take the risk of doing something you've never done before and going somewhere you've never been before.

Then you decide to go ahead, and you enter a new space with sharper senses, not sure what to expect.  As you progress, you begin to adjust to the new space.

As the nervousness fades, you congratulate yourself on having escaped the usual routine and begin to enjoy yourself.

Then the initial post-nervousness excitement fades, but in its place you're more relaxed and you start to tune into the new space you're in.

That state continues for some time, but unless you really belong in the new space, at some point, a feeling of lost time begins to creep in and you start to want to get back to your usual routines.

And so the journey out of a space is never as fun, exciting, and enjoyable as the trip into it.  This was a short trip, so it wasn't so noticeable, but on some long trips, the journey out into the countryside is pure fun and adventure and the trip back pure tedium.

It was a nice experience enabled by low expectations and contrast.  I hadn't been expecting to escape the typical city streets that day, so it was quite nice to suddenly be in that quiet green space.

The timing was good as well - early May, so it was a nice temperature and the green everywhere was a spring green.  This same space wouldn't have been as nice in the August heat.

It would be nice to slip back in time and see this with the water flowing.  Due to the absence of people (I didn't meet anyone at all while there) it seemed as though I could feel something from the past, but it would be nice to slip back with a camera and get some video....

And so we come to the end of the dry canal bed adventure.  I'm glad it beckoned to me from down the street that day.  The experience was better in a way than going off into the countryside for a change of pace - being unexpected and suddenly experienced as it was.  I've recalled the experience from time-to-time and enjoyed revisiting it through these pictures I took that day.  Hopefully I've conveyed something of that experience with this blog post.

Lyle (Hiroshi) Saxon
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