Now I know if you have been reading along these past couple of days you must have had some serious doubts about whether or not we would actually make it to the fish market. After all, how could a couple of lazy college guys who go out drinking every night possibly get their acts together and wake up at five in the morning? Well shame on you for doubting us! Sure enough when the alarm went off this morning we got out of bed and caught a 5:20 train toward the fish market. We were going to shower but then decided that we couldn't possibly smell worse than where we were going (it was a tossup with Alex). So along with the salarymen going to work, we grabbed some juice to beat our hangovers and boarded the train. The fish market is officially called the Tsukiji Fish Market. It is an immense clearing house for all manner of seafood.
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While a small percentage of the fish must be local, it seemed like the vast majority of the seafood (seafood might be a misnomer because much of the catch was still alive) was sent via air from distant locations. Squid, octopus, eels, and crabs all made a strong showing but it was clear from the start that what we were after were tuna.
From the street it is impossible to see the market, making it difficult for tourists to find. luckily Pete had done a project on Japanese fishing in high school and had visited Tsukiji before. We had to walk through a warehouse, dodging pallet loaders, bikes, trucks, and handcarts as we went. It was here that we first began to see some tuna being shuttled along on small loaders and hand carts.
As we made our way in to the heart of the market we reached an expansive open-air warehouse that might have been a half mile long. There was the electricity of bustling capitalism in the air (or maybe that was the electricity of some electric eels). Hundreds of people were rushing by, moving, buying, selling and cutting fish. It seemed choreographed like a ballet with the participants weaving between each other with precision and determination.