All abandoned: Chernobyl / Pripyat, Nara Dreamland, Anti-Zombie Fortress, Japanese Sex Museum – and many, many more! Plus: North Korea Special – 2 trips, 16 days / 14 nights! As seen on CNN…
After I left the apartment building and shot the first video I was looking for a new approach to Ikeshima. So I left the area with three-storey buildings and headed towards a bunch of row bungalows with little garden. Some of them were still inhabited and it seemed like the people living there took care of their former neighbors’ gardens. I continued to walk uphill and reached a small park with an observation platform – the highest point of the island. Although the stairs leading up were really rusty and maybe should have been off-limits I went up and had a look around. What a nice view!
A building with a headframe caught my eye, so I carefully went down again and walked toward the coop – which is sometimes mistaken for a hospital due to some “Safety first” signs. On my way I came across what turned out to be one of the most fascinating building complex I’ve ever seen, totally reminding me of my trip to *Chernobyl and Pripyat*. Its foundation was on the lower end of a slope, with bridges connecting the upper floors with the street I was walking along. A really fascinating construction, even more beautiful from its base as I found out later. But for now the headframe was more important, so I walked down some concrete steps with a severely damaged handrail to the backside of the coop. The rear entrance was actually open, but I refrained from entering. A sign displayed some kind of opening hours of the Mitsui Matsushima Resources Company (三井松島リソーシス株式会社), the subsidiary of Mitsui Matsushima responsible for taking care of the trainee program that ended in 2007. The front entrance had the same or a similar sign. So I took some photos from the outside of the building and walked up the street towards the apartment complex.
To get a better grasp of the whole complex I put down my tripod (including the camera) and my backpack on the side of the road and headed for the bus stop right in front of it. There was some kind of roundabout and the moment I wasn’t visible from the street a small pickup truck (actually a kei truck or Japanese mini truck) passed by and stopped next to my belongings. “Great… trouble!”, I thought and made myself visible. Two guys in their 50s or 60s got out of the truck and when I came closer they addressed me in a mix of Japanese and English – and I answered the same way.
What I was doing here?
Just taking some photos…
Interested in history?
Yep, a lot!
From America?
No, Germany.
At this point their faces lit up a bit and we switched from 75% Japanese to 75% English. Then they asked me if I wanted to see their offices. Wait, what? Yeah, they were working at the coop building with the headframe, they told me. So I picked up my belongings and jumped on the truck bed. Knowing that there wouldn’t be any oncoming traffic the driver sped up quite a bit and hurried down the mountain, but somehow I managed to take some slightly blurry photos without falling off the truck.
The front door of the building was also unlocked and the guys guided me to the second floor. There were several offices and the entrance to the mine shaft. Lighting was horrible and the guided tour was so quick that most pictures turned out to be blurry. I snatched some shots of the room where the mobile radios as well as other equipment were stored (and charged), then we went through some more offices and by the time I realized what I was doing I was outside again and said goodbye to my guide – I barely spent ten minutes inside the coop, but I was able to take some rare photos. What a great opportunity!
Since the guys gave me a one way ride I walked up the street again and back to the apartment complex. This time I put down my belongings where they weren’t visible from the street and started to take pictures and videos. The weather seemed to brighten up a bit and just looking at the amazing apartment complex put a smile on my face. Such a great building, such a nice atmosphere… I felt at ease and my worries about living up to the uniqueness of Ikeshima were gone. Now that I’m writing these lines I’m again not sure if the pictures and videos can really put you there, but looking at the material for the first time in a couple weeks makes me daydream a bit. As far as I could see all entrances were boarded up or even bricked up, there was quite a bit of barbed wire and the previously mentioned bridges looked very dilapidated from below – but I didn’t even have the urge to enter the complex. It was just nice being there. With the apartment complex, more apartment buildings further down the slope, and an overgrown children’s playground on an additional level between the two housing sections. A couple of minutes before I continued my exploration of Ikeshima the van parked in front of the bus stop continued its tour after quite a long break (the driver must have taken a rest in the little hut next to it) and I felt good. Really good.
Half of my time on Ikeshima was over and I was curious *what the afternoon would bring* – it didn’t disappoint…
(Since the inhabitants of Ikeshima consider their island a tourist attraction I added it to the *Map Of Demolished Places And Tourist Spots* and created *a new map just for Ikeshima*. If you don’t want to miss the latest postings you can *follow Abandoned Kansai on Twitter* and *like this blog on Facebook* – and of course there is the *video channel on Youtube*…)
„絆 池しま 大スキ“ – „Kizuna Ikeshima daisuki“ – „I / We like Ikeshima a lot“
That’s what’s written with huge, colorful characters in the sand of the breakwater at the Ikeshima harbor. A last pledge of allegiance from about 300 remaining inhabitants of an island once the home to several thousand people – miners and their families, shop owners, restaurateurs, …
When I arrived on Ikeshima I can’t say I agreed with the bold statement at the harbor. The weather changed from sunny to overcast with a serious risk of rain and the humidity rose to levels you usually experience during the long, excruciating Japanese summers. Though the previous day was pretty long, exploring the *Imari Kawaminami Shipyard* and the *Mukaiyama Mine*, I had to get up again before 6 a.m. to make it to the ferry on time and my landlubber slugabed stomach wasn’t a big fan of the early morning breakfast, although the ferry ride itself was really enjoyable.
In addition to that I felt a pressure right from the beginning I hadn’t felt in years. Back in my days as a journalist in Germany (10+ years ago) I was writing about all kinds of topics. Most of the stuff was trivial and routine, but once in a while I dealt with a project close to my heart – and in those cases of course I wanted to rise to the occasion and write an article that did justice to the topic.
So while I tried to calm down my slightly upset stomach I was worried if I would be able to take pictures that represent Ikeshima properly, if I could come up with interesting stories to write about – if I was able to experience this island that is on its way to become an urbex legend; some people already call it Gunkanjima’s little brother (although Ikeshima is way bigger…). And since Ikeshima is in way better shape and way easier to access than *Gunkanjima* it is actually on its way to become more popular amongst urban explorers – a trend that seems to be appreciated and supported by the remaining inhabitants of the island, at least to some degree.
The first thing I saw getting off the ferry were two maps of the Ikeshima right at the pier – one being an aerial shot of the island from 1982, highlighting 9 points of interest; the other being a typically Japanese manga tourist map with a hiking guide, pointing out restrooms, bus stops, areas off-limit and buildings you shouldn’t miss. Sadly (for for the locals) Ikeshima wasn’t a tourist attraction (yet), at least not during Golden Week 2011: I was not only the sole foreigner on board, I was also the only person carrying photography equipment. The other half a dozen passengers were elderly Japanese guys looking for a relaxing day of fishing.
I took a few quick photos at the harbor to calm my stomach, get used to the humidity and make sure that the settings of my camera were how they should be – and somehow I got the feeling that the few locals I met weren’t really happy about it. As a rather big, tall non-Asian foreigner in Japan I’m used to being stared at, but maybe I was overly sensitive because of the uncomfortable situation I felt I was in, so I didn’t like Ikeshima a lot at that point…
I passed by four of five people trying to get one of the omnipresent cats from an electricity pole and left the harbor area to follow the street uphill. Down to the right was a little settlement, several dozen houses, once the homes of the non-mining population on Ikeshima. I saw some big apartment buildings on the top of the hill, so I decided to follow the street and maybe have a look down there later.
Reaching the top I passed by the post office which, to my surprise, actually had one or two customers while I was looking around that area. Although nowadays most people seemed to live down by the harbor the uphill apartment section was surprisingly busy. Within the first hour I spent there I saw maybe two dozen pedestrians and at least half a dozen cars, including the local shuttle bus which seemed to pass by me every 5 minutes – and in the background a recycling company caused quite some noise.
At that point I felt like a kid in a candy store – extremely excited, looking at dozens of opportunities, each one of them usually worth a day-trip on its own, and no idea where to start. But this was Ikeshima, Little Gunkanjima, so I had to take some spectacular shots! Just how? Especially since all buildings seemed to be boarded up, the doors bolted or welded. And the industrial areas were all off-limits, “No Trespassing!” signs everywhere in Japanese (kanji) and Bahasa Indonesia (Latin alphabet and katakana). Still under irrational pressure I felt like I had to make a move – and when I saw an open balcony door I jumped the railing and got inside. Finally what I was looking for? Not at all! I felt more uncomfortable than ever. I’m into urban exploration for the unique esthetics, for the quiet time in the middle of nowhere, for interesting angles and the amazing atmosphere really spectacular places provide. I’m not doing it for the thrill of being in buildings I’m not supposed to be. Quite the opposite in fact, I really dislike that aspect. So I took a few quick shots while hearing cars and voices everywhere outside – I could have gotten to the staircase and maybe to other apartments from there, but instead I decided to leave the building. Seconds later another car passed by, followed by two senior citizens, greeting me with a smile. Maybe it was about time to change my approach. So I put down my tripod and my backpack at one of the crossroads, grabbed my video camera and started to tape a walking tour of the housing area, wondering what the people I met were still doing on Ikeshima.
It was not until World War II that coal was discovered under Ikeshima. At that time about 300 people lived on the island while the huge corporate conglomerate (keiretsu, 系列) Mitsui Matsushima (三井松島) started to buy large parts. The development of the coal deposits started in 1952 and in 1959 mining finally began – the last colliery to open in Japan. In 1970 about 8,000 people lived on the island (although one source throws out a number as high as 20,000…), but like in all Western industrialized countries coal became less and less important; oil was the new coal. In summer of 1999, long after most Japanese coal mines were closed for good, a technology transfer program was proposed and as if it was a sign that the days of the Ikeshima Coal Mine (池島炭鉱) were numbered a fire broke out in the mine in February of 2000. On November 28th of 2001 the last shift left the Ikeshima Coal Mine, about 3000 people living on the island at that time – making Ikeshima the second to last Japanese coal mine to be closed. On April 18th of 2002 the technology transfer program started, training students from Indonesia about mining – hence the multi-language warning signs all over the island. The trainee program ran out by the end of March 2007, a year after 77 miners won a lawsuit against Mitsui Matsushima; suing them for negligence, related to coal worker’s pneumoconiosis. Around that time the number of people living on Ikeshima dropped to about 300 – as it was before coal was discovered. (The name Ikeshima means “pond island”, because until the 1950s a large pond was the main feature of the island – it was turned into the harbor by Mitsui Matsushima… Please *click here* to be taken to a Japanese homepage with before and after shots next to each other.)
Did the two old ladies know any of those 77 miners? Were they maybe even sons or husbands? And why were they still living on Ikeshima? I never found out. But I talked to several other people on the island later that day – so don’t miss *part 2* and *part 3* of my Ikeshima exploration…
(Since the inhabitants of Ikeshima consider their island a tourist attraction I added it to the *Map Of Demolished Places And Tourist Spots* and created *a new map just for Ikeshima*. If you don’t want to miss the latest postings you can *follow Abandoned Kansai on Twitter* and *like this blog on Facebook* – and of course there is the *video channel on Youtube*…)
Just a couple of hundred meters down the road from the *Imari Kawaminami Shipyard* is another haikyo – visible from both the street and the train tracks the place is nevertheless often overlooked. After we finished shooting the seaside part of the shipyard Yasu was heading back to the main building while Ben and I headed to the remains I saw a couple of times on Japanese blogs without even exactly knowing what to expect – the pictures I saw were labeled “向山炭鉱“ (Mukaiyama Tankou, tankou being the Japanese word for mine), but a mine so close to the sea? Could that be?
When Ben and I arrived on the other waterfront we saw three elderly Japanese people skimming through the part of the beach that was now accessible thanks to the low tide. Since Ben’s Japanese was way better than mine he talked to them and found out that they were looking for Asari (also known as Manila clam or Venerupis philippinarum), a popular ingredient in miso soup. Like the fisherman from the dam the clam searchers were quite chatty and told us a bit about the abandoned place we were visiting. As I assumed the concrete and rusty steel remains weren’t part of a mine, but part of the sea terminal of the mine – the mine itself was somewhere in the nearby mountains and demolished centuries ago. Speaking of mountains: I didn’t realize it until Ben told me what he heard from our new Japanese friends, but the surrounding hills near the beach weren’t natural. They were also remains of the sea terminal, in this case the parts of the deliveries from the mine that didn’t get onto the ships as there weren’t coal, but worthless rocks not even good enough to be used for construction. Like everywhere else in the world that stuff was piled to create spoil-tips (or botayama, ボタ山, in Japanese).
There is actually not a lot of general information I found about the Mukaiyama Mine. Coal extraction at the place started during the Meiji era under different names and different owners. Until 1909 23 miners mined about 750 tons of coal, in 1910 15 miners brought 298 tons to daylight. 1911 brought a new owner with headquarters in Matsuura and new deposits were found. In 1912 the mine was renamed once more to now known “Mukaiyama Mine” and 100 miners were employed to mine about 800 tons of coal a year. At the same time 15 houses were constructed for the miners – if you want to see pictures from that era please have a *look here*, but please be aware that the site is in Japanese; nevertheless I didn’t want to steal their photos to put them up here… In 1937 the mine was taken over by Kawaminami Industries Ltd. who increased production again in 1939 – probably to support their *soon to be demolished shipyard*. In 1946 the Mukaiyama Colliery Labor Union was formed, raising the daily wage from 35 to 50 Yen and prohibiting underground work of women and minors. (Minors, not miners!)
In 1951, when the *Kawaminami Shipyard* was struggling, a railroad connection to the sea was built. Although new coal deposits were developed in 1957 and 1960 the Mukaiyama Mine was shut down in 1963 – and with it the sea terminal. Okay, so much for the history lesson…
As I mentioned several times before: I was extremely lucky that the tide was low during my visit. On most pictures I saw on the internet the beach was covered with water, the remains of the sea terminal barely sticking out of the sea. Not during my visit. Thanks to that the remnants were almost completely visible, exposing their more decayed parts with vibrant colors.
Google launches Google+ – and Abandoned Kansai finally has a Facebook page… If you like this blog even just a little please *click it here* to like it on Facebook, too.
Darn, me and my timing again… In my previous posting I referred to Gakuranman’s article about the Imari Kawaminami Shipyard – he mentioned a discussion in 2010 about demolishing the place; and I expressed how happy I was it didn’t happen between his visit and mine. Well, it seems like things are moving forward. The Japanese newspaper “Yomiuri” reported on June 24th (almost a week after I published my exploration experience) that the Yamashiro City Zoning Committee decided on June 9th that the Imari Kawaminami Shipyard is a safety hazard and not worth to be preserved as a historical landmark – they will demolish the place, only saving some of the pillars with the safety warnings (as seen on the photos below). And it took them only 50 years to realize that…
I guess the real reason for demolishing the place is the land reclamation project going on behind the seaside part of the shipyard which the dam mentioned in the previous posting is part of. Getting rid of the ruin will create a huge piece of land if both properties are combined – with access to both sea and the main road of the area.
I was quite shocked when I heard about the news today – it’s always a sad thing when abandoned buildings disappear, especially famous and unique ones like this. A place that grew on me a lot after I explored it, especially since there seemed to be a connection to the Katashima Suicide Training School.
Japan is quite weird when it comes to timing. Sometimes things drag forever and maybe the shipyard won’t be destroyed after all, although the committee made the decision to demolish the place. But sometimes things move extremely fast, so maybe the shipyard is already gone by the time I write these lines. Urbex is becoming more and more popular in Kyushu recently – if I hear any news I’ll make sure to keep you updated.
(To make this posting more colorful I chose six previously unpublished photos and uploaded them together with a video I forgot last time…)
Addendum 2012-1-30: The Imari Kawaminami Shipyard was demolished in late 2011 / early 2012. Now you can find its exact location on my *map of touristy and demolished ruins in Japan*.
The Imari Kawaminami Shipyard, also known as the Kawaminami Uranosaki Industrial Shipyard or the shorter version Kawaminami Shipyard, is one of the best documented urban exploration spots (haikyo / 廃虚) in Japan. Pretty much all blogs about the topic cover the shipyard, Japanese as well as those written by foreigners living or visiting Japan, and it’s marked on countless maps. It’s a perfect location for beginners since it’s right next to a major road, parking spots are available close-by and a train station is just a couple of 100 meters away. There are no (real) fences, no security, no nosy neighbours. And the place is buzzing! During my 4 hour stay I met about half a dozen people, both Japanese and a foreigner. A relaxed start into my 4 day trip to Kyushu…
A trip that started at 4.50 a.m. when my alarm clock reminded me that I can rest when I’m dead. I took one of the first Shinkansen high speed trains from Osaka to Hakata / Fukuoka and from there it was another 3 hour train ride to the station mentioned earlier. I finally arrived at the Kawaminami Shipyard at around noon with one of those weird Japanese spring skies that white out most photos as soon as even parts of the sky are visible. After I entered the shipyard I dropped my luggage right at the entrance to have a look around – and I was rather disappointed. The main building is not much more than a concrete skeleton as seen many, many times on all kinds of homepages and blogs. I had a quick look around, taped a walking tour of the building and after I took some pictures for a couple of minutes in the main hall I saw two guys back at the entrance. It’s always a weird feeling when other people show up at abandoned places as you never know if they are fellow explorers, security or some random society outsiders. (The latter kind is rather rare in Japan – I’ve never met druggies, only one homeless guy once.) The guys turned out to be Ben, an English teacher from Otsu in Shiga (close to my current home), and his Japanese friend from Kanto. Extremely nice guys and a welcomed chance acquaintanceship.
After a while we left the overgrown building to explore the even more overgrown outside part of the shipyard. We followed a narrow trail and after about 3 minutes we reached seaside part of the shipyard which surprisingly many photographers miss. This area I actually enjoyed a lot more. The tide was low, we were free to roam the area and were able to shoot from angles usually covered by water. The sky had almost cleared up by that time and in combination with the nice breeze it created a very relaxed atmosphere.
When we were done shooting that part we made our way onto the dam in front of the shipyard, significantly newer than the abandoned complex. We were down halfway when a guy on a bike came closer. Since there was some construction going on close-by I was worried that the guy might be security, but he turned out to be a senior citizen who enjoys fishing. A chatty senior citizen who was more than happy to give us a little bit of insight on the shipyard. According to him the building we were exploring earlier and that is always referred to as the Kawaminami Shipyard actually wasn’t a shipyard, but a factory for spare parts and the administration building of the company. He claimed that the actual shipyard was further up north, but demolished quite a while ago – which is probably only part of the truth given the shape of the building now abandoned. Since the location is completely gutted and there are some articles available in English my interest in the historical background is actually surprisingly low – but according to the Japanese Wikipedia it was opened in 1936 (to support Japan’s efforts in their wars that started earlier in the 30s) and closed due to bankruptcy in 1955. One of the more curious items built there were the manned “suicide torpedoes” called kaiten (回天), probably to be delivered to the rather nearby Katashima Suicide Training School, a place I visited during my first trip to Kyushu in March of 2010.
Anyway, after the fisherman continued his way Ben and I went to another haikyo east of the shipyard (I’ll describe that one in the next posting) before we finished our circumnavigation of the endangered beauty.
The Kawaminami Shipyard is actually way more impressive from the outside than from the inside and I guess in winter even more so than in late spring. Nevertheless it was a perfect first location on my second trip to Kyushu – one that set the tone for the days to come…
Addendum 2012-1-30: The Imari Kawaminami Shipyard was demolished in late 2011 / early 2012. Now you can find its exact location on my *map of touristy and demolished ruins in Japan*.
About 15 months ago I went on my first multi-day urban exploration trip: 3 days to Kyushu with my buddy Enric. A trip with lots of up and downs, visiting some amazing locations – Gunkanjima, the Katashima Suicide Training School and the winding tower of the Shime Coal Mine, now known to some people as the Anti-Zombie Fortress. But March was kinda cold, last year as well as this year. So when Golden Week came up (late April / early May) and my company forced me to take two of my paid vacation days to install a new AC I took the lemon and made lemonade – it was time to go back to Kyushu!
Since Enric left Japan and returned to Spain a couple of months ago, I went on my own this time. Remembering the best burger I’ve ever had I set up my base in Sasebo after a long day of exploring an abandoned shipyard and the abandoned leftovers of the dock of a mine close to it. The next day I explored one of the most amazing places I’ve ever been to: an almost abandoned island, once the home of several thousand people – and as exciting as that day was as disappointing was the next one when I walked through drizzle for hours without an umbrella to look for remains of a mine and its workers’ housing-estate; but they were gone forever – as research after my return confirmed… Luckily the weather turned around on my last day, so I was able to visit an abandoned amusement park on my way back home. Thank heavens for sunscreen, because without it the harsh Kyushu sun would have burned me crisp within half an hour…
Exploring all day I spent my three evenings in Sasebo at Base Street to enjoy some burgers. While the regular sized ones are good I’ll definitely recommend the so-called “Special Size” – this 15 centimeters in diameter monster is a classic Sasebo style burger that will fill you up with pure deliciousness; if you ever wanna spend 1100 Yen (yep, that’s 9.50 Euros or 13.60 Dollars!) on a single burger without even considering regretting it then this is the place to go! I just hope I’ll find more abandoned places close to Sasebo so I can have a good reason to go back there once more…
(Oh, and greetings to the tourist office in the Sasebo! It sells a variety of souvenirs, but not the awesome huge plush hamburgers that fill half of their display window. To get one of those you have to ride a bus for about half an hour to get to a small store at a shopping mall in the middle of nowhere. And since I had to wait 45 minutes for the next bus they lost a customer who would have happily paid 200 Yen more to avoid the hassle of a 2.5 hour long round trip to get a cute present for his even cuter niece. A no-win situation… and pretty much the worst sales strategy ever!)
I have to admit: After almost five years working for a big company in Japan my view on the country and its people changed quite a bit. Foreigners visiting Japan as tourists and exchange students tend to have a very romanticized image of Japan, even more extreme in the case of people longing to visit Japan for the first time. Actually working in Japan is a totally different thing as the usual struggles at work get multiplied by cultural differences and, yes, sometimes xenophobia – and if you work in an industry that locks you up in rooms without daylight with a lot of “characters” for the major part of the week you tend to generalize certain things. Which is really bad – and the main reason I like to get outside on the weekends and travel to other parts of the Japan to get in contact with people that have nothing to do with my line of work…
After finding the shangri-la and the Big Mountain Pachinko Parlor on our way from the Sky Rest New Muroto to our next haikyo we finally entered the mountainous part of Shikoku. The roads were getting smaller and the weather got worse. When we reached the area we suspected the F# Elementary School was (we only had vague hints…) it was pouring and the road was so narrow it was only wide enough for one car, villages so small they were not more but an accumulation of a few buildings. And none of them looked like a school. We were driving up and down a road and its backstreets while the time was ticking away – in only a few hours we had to return the car…
Doing urban exploration you don’t want to attract a lot of attention as you never know what people might think of you and your undertaking. After about half an hour we decided we had nothing to lose and when we saw a guy from a well-known telecommunications company having a break in his car Jordy insisted asking him about the school. The guy knew where the school was and told us that it was abandoned in the 1960s, but that it was under construction now. Just down the road, we couldn’t miss it (well, we did before…). Very nice guy – and we were so happy that we finally got some directions. We followed the road for about five minutes, parked our car and then something happened I never thought would happen, especially after being surrounded by dopey and to some extent ignorant people for the bigger part of the year: The guy showed up, not only making sure that we found the school, but also talking to the construction workers, telling them the same story we told him (that we were photographers from France and Germany taking pictures of abandoned places), allowing us to enter the school and taking pictures for as long as we wanted. There it was, the personification of the positive image most people have of Japan – and it blew me away. To all the expats in Japan getting frustrated, and I know there are a lot: Go on weekend trips, re-connect with the Japan you once loved so much. Working crazy hours and having only a few paid days off a year it’s easy and dangerous to generalize, especially when gathering with other foreigners who are frustrated, too…
That being said I can finally write a few words about the school itself, although I know barely anything about it. Closed in the 1960s this wooden construction was withstanding decay for several decades until somebody decided not to tear it down, but to renovate it. Construction started about a month prior to our visit (= end of October 2010) and was supposed to finish March 10th 2011. Luckily they spent most of the time building ramps for trucks and machinery as well as taking care of a side building, so the main building of the school was barely touched – giving us the opportunity to take unique pictures as I’m sure the building looks completely different now…
The F# Elementary School was a typical Japanese school of its time: A rather narrow wooden building with a long hallway, classrooms (and other rooms) only to one side. While we entered through a side entrance the main entrance with some lockers and paintings created by students was located in the middle of the building – restrooms being outside on the back side of the school. Most of the rooms were empty, but others were full of all kinds of items: furniture, educational materials, pianos. Yes, pianos. Like the Middle School #3 in Pripyat this school was also stuffed with pianos – I saw at least half a dozen. Another kind of item I didn’t expect were a couple of sewing machines made by Brother, nowadays more famous for printers than for their original core business.
Since this was my first (and so far only) abandoned Japanese school it was an amazing experience to explore it – especially since it was about to be reconstructed and even more so given the story leading to the exploration. The perfect final location of my (first) Haikyo Trip To Shikoku!
While I am happily taking credit for finding the hotel shangri-la it was thanks to my fellow explorer that we entered the Big Mountain (or Big Mountein… as they misspelled their own name occasionally) pachinko parlor. We were on the road again to finally get to that abandoned school in the middle of the mountains when we saw said abandoned place of amusement. We turned around, parked the car and actually found an easy way in.
There are plenty of abandoned pachinko parlors in Japan, it’s maybe the most common kind of haikyo overall. But usually they are either boarded up or completely gutted. The Big Mountain on the other hand was in pretty decent shape. Most of the machines were opened, but only a few were missing. Since new pachinko parlors are opened all the time a lot of the equipment gets recycled, but in this case most of it was still there (machines, stools, balls, containers for the balls, signs, …) and in decent condition – especially considering that the most recent calendar sheets we found were from 1996.
Since gambling is strictly controlled by the Japanese state there are only a few possibilities to actually win money – with lotteries and betting. Playing pachinko (パチンコ) you can only win prizes by exchanging the pachinko balls you’ve won for prizes worth less than 10.000 Yen each (82 Euros / 117 Dollars). Popular items are perfumes, expensive lighters and tiny gold bars. Conveniently most pachinko parlors have a “pawn shop” close-by where you can get rid of your prizes; of course 10 to 30% under value! 16 million Japanese play pachinko on a regular basis, about 34.000 play for a living – yes, professional pachinko players…
What most people don’t know, especially in the West, is that the majority of pachinko parlors in Japan are run by the so-called Zainichi Koreans, the biggest ethnic minority in Japan. Of the estimated 16.000 parlors about 50% are run by South Koreans, 30 to 40% by *North Koreans* and the rest by Chinese and Japanese; most of the latter ones associated with the Yakuza, the “Japanese Mafia”. The parlors run by North Koreans usually are under the control of the Chongryon (Ch’ongryŏn / 총련 / 總聯 / 朝鮮総連), the “General Association of Korean Residents in Japan” which has close ties to North Korea. According to an article in the Japan Times up to 200 billion Yen a year are flowing to North Korea that way – currently that’s about 1.7 billion Euros or 2.4 billion Dollars…
Sadly we were running out of time and we still wanted to go to that school, so we left the Big Mountain Pachinko Parlor after about 30 minutes. We even forgot to go upstairs, where you usually can find a couple of sleeping rooms, a kitchen, and a security room with surveillance monitors and a safe. Luckily I explored another pachinko parlor a few months later, this time in Shiga – but that’s *a story for another time*…
After visiting the Sky Rest New Muroto in the southern part of Shikoku Jordy and I got back on the road to find an abandoned school in the middle of nowhere about 50 kilometers away. While the most popular way of finding places to explore seems to be (mostly useless) books like Nippon No Haikyo and doing research on the internet the most effective way to do it actually is to rent a car and hit the road. In our case we stumbled across two amazing abandoned places (or haikyo (廃墟), ruins, as they are known in Japan) on our way to the school: an abandoned hotel and an abandoned Pachinko parlor in amazing condition.
After about half an hour on the road I saw a huge sign advertising a hotel – and the sign looked like it wasn’t taken care of for at least a decade. I told Jordy about it and we decided to turn around. Driving up a hill for only a short distance there it was, the shangri-la (yes, lower case spelling…). Very unspectacular from the outside Jordy cracked some jokes about how the place doesn’t live up to its name, but we were disabused soon…
With the front desk gone and the kid’s play area and gift shop almost empty, the shangri-la became interesting when I entered the office behind the front desk. Amongst the mess of documents and office items like ink cartridges scattered all over the floor I found a photo album with wedding pictures. Was the shangri-la maybe more than it appeared from the outside? It was. Right around the corner was a rental counter for towels and other bathing equipment and from there I could already see the indoor water park – huge by Japanese standards, well below average being used to European facilities like that. Nevertheless fascinating, especially since the pool was quite complex with several small water slides and a bridge across to where I assume once a bar was.
The rest of the ground floor was occupied by a kitchen, another bar and a small recreational area outside. The hotel part of the shangri-la was on the second floor. All rooms were empty by the time of my visit, but one of them was labeled “CHAPEL”, so I guess it’s easy to say that the shangri-la was a wedding hotel.
No Japanese hotel is complete without two shared baths (one for men, one for women) and the ones here were quite nice, including a rather spacious sauna considering the size of the shangri-la.
Jordy and I weren’t the first visitors to the shangri-la in the 10 years since it was closed (judging by the ad for a marathon in November of 2000), but to my surprise I’ve never seen it on the internet before. There was a bit of chaos here and there, but almost none of the typical signs of vandalism ruining the more famous… ruins. No arson, hardly any smashed interior, no broken windows – hardly any mold, well-lit, secluded. A truly great place to explore!
Abandoned Kansai 