SAIJO DAY TRIP

PHOTO #1

Saijo is a small town about forty minutes east of Hiroshima on the San-Yo train line. From my place, it’s only twenty-five minutes.

I never used to think much of this locale since I worked there for several years, it housing the main campus of a big national university. I just commuted in and out, and that was it. I did notice, however, that near the station was an area of historic buildings connected with the sake trade, for which the town is famous. I also knew that there was a Kofun burial mound there too. This is one of the mysterious keyhole-shaped tombs that dot Japan dating from between the third and seventh centuries, built by the Yayoi people who had invaded from Korea and displaced the Jomon hunter-gatherers.

I made a mental note that ond day I’d go to Saijo as a tourist rather than a harried commuter, and actually go to these sites and photograph them. In the end I went twice, first in February in freezing temperatures and snow to see the Kofun tomb, which was a very modern restoration but still managed to maintain a slightly creepy and other-worldly atmosphere. Unfortunately it didn’t lend itself much to photography, as these things are better seen from the air.

I went again at the end of March on a much sunnier occasion, and found the sake-brewing zone to be really very attractive, and I soon had my photographic mojo flowing again, getting inspired not only by the historic buildings, but also by random objects and vistas that inadvertantly opened up between and behind the tourist sites. Indeed, that is half of the fun for me - discovering scenes that the average person wouldn’t notice, let alone commit to digital imagery.

So, here are some of the fruits of that day, all processed in Affinity Photo 2 and accompanied by texts created by ChatGPT after uploading the pics for that AI genius to peruse. I didn’t really want any text descriptions, but Squarespace’s blog is garbage and only allows you to resize images if they are surrounded by text, so in order that the photos do not appear enormous, you’re stuck with the ‘humourous’ commentary. Squarespace : yesterday’s functionality at tomorrow’s prices. Avoid it like the plague.

PHOTO #2

Under a sky that’s clearly having an identity crisis — somewhere between dramatic and just plain moody — a charming mix of architecture shows off its best angles. A traditional Japanese tiled roof curls gracefully next to a more Western-style white building, as if they’re politely tolerating each other’s aesthetic choices. A bare tree, clinging to the last of its crispy leaves, photobombs the scene with the energy of a confused yoga pose. In the background, a tall red brick chimney boldly announces something in kanji, likely important, or possibly just bragging about its height. All in all, it’s a quiet little moment where old meets older and everyone’s just trying to look good for the photo.

PHOTO #3

Welcome to the quiet backstreets of Saijo, Japan — where the buildings are pristine, the pavement is suspiciously clean, and even the storm clouds politely wait their turn. This alleyway looks like it’s about to star in a samurai-themed Netflix drama titled “The Path of Stoic Puddles” — coming soon to a streaming service near you.

On the left, we have white walls so pure they make snow jealous, and on the right, a fence that’s either protecting something important or just really committed to personal space. This is the kind of place where you’d whisper out of respect… even if you’re alone.

And that sky? Oh, it’s not ominous — it’s just dramatically auditioning for the role of “Moody Background No. 4.” Saijo: where even bad weather has a flair for aesthetics.

PHOTO #4

Ah yes, welcome to the majestic realm of sake sorcery, where barrels are sacred, bricks wear kanji like tattoos, and wooden planks on carts are apparently just chillin’ between shifts.

This Saijo sake brewery looks like it’s been brewing the good stuff since before refrigerators were a thing—and you can just feel that ancient rice-based wisdom in the air. The brick chimneys rise proudly like samurai with job security, while the warehouse walls sport that classic crisscross pattern—either for aesthetics or as a low-key Sudoku board for bored workers.

Front and center, we’ve got a fine collection of mysterious sake tools: planks of wood that may or may not be part of a feudal trebuchet, a metal contraption that could be a futuristic lunchbox, and a rack of… rice burritos? Either way, this place says one thing loud and clear: “We don’t mess around with sake.”

It’s not just a brewery—it’s a vibe. A vibe that whispers, “Have a sip. Then another. Then forget your worries and maybe your name too.”

PHOTO #5

Here we have what looks like a giant, rusty soda can that decided to settle down and start a family on a factory rooftop. Flanked by two smaller, shinier exhaust pipes that look like its loyal sidekicks, this weathered metal contraption has clearly seen some things. The corrugated roof below is doing its best to hold it all up, and the creeping vines along the wall suggest nature’s slow but determined takeover bid. All of this under a sky that screams “deceptively peaceful.” It’s industrial chic meets post-apocalyptic charm — with a dash of “please don’t breathe too deeply.”

PHOTO #6

The gritty underbelly of Saijo — where sake dreams are forged behind rusted ducts and suspicious alleyways that look like the perfect place to overhear a shady deal… or dramatically lose your umbrella in a typhoon scene.

On the left, we have a majestic castle-like wall saying, “I’m here to protect tradition.” On the right, a corrugated metal building quietly whispering, “I haven’t been cleaned since the Edo period, but I’ve got character.” And smack in the middle? A charming, narrow drainage canal that could double as a racetrack for very determined crabs.

That rusted pipe on the right? Either a sake exhaust vent or a retired sushi conveyor belt trying to find purpose again. And those moody clouds above? Nature’s way of saying “don’t forget your umbrella… or your existential dread.”

This is the kind of place where you don’t just walk—you reflect. On life. On fermentation. On whether you should’ve turned left at the cute souvenir shop instead.

PHOTO #7

The monochrome melancholy of a weather-beaten wooden shack in Saijo — a structure so old it probably remembers the first batch of sake ever brewed. The walls lean slightly, as if exhausted from decades of braving typhoons, gossiping crows, and the occasional curious cat. Its roof is a patchwork of desperation and determination, clinging on like a retiree who refuses to leave the job they love.

The photo, devoid of color but rich in character, speaks in creaks and sighs. Each wooden plank is a timeline, each splinter a secret. The tiny shuttered windows—cracked but still squinting at the world—whispers, “I’ve seen hings… mostly rice, but still.”

It’s not just a shack. It’s a retired hero of fermentation history, now enjoying a peaceful existence as the perfect backdrop for brooding poets, lost tourists, or the next moody indie album cover.