Wednesday 10 July 2013

Branch of the sky

The broad main roads and back streets alike in Asakusa are quiet on a Monday evening. Light rain drifts down as I make my way towards the Tokyo Sky Tree, a 634m-high giant of a TV tower, the construction of which was completed last year.

I got out of the rain and into the tower complex, the bottom floors of which consist of expensive shops and restaurants. A baby looked at me in surprise and then began to laugh as I made my way to the entrance to the elevator towards the viewing floor. I paid my money and entered the lift to the 350m- high viewing floor, the lower of the two large rings around the tower. The elevator shot upwards, a space-age display showing the floor count and altitude rapidly increasing.

As I exited the lift, it was difficult not to feel emotional at the sight of the lit-up expanse of nighttime Tokyo stretching away below. It is, after all, incredible to see the size of the things humanity can build, and to consider the impossible number of lives, stories and histories all captured within one panoramic view.

People could be seen walking with umbrellas in the streets below. Advertising screens shone brightly, big enough to be read from half a kilometre away in the air. The Tokyo Dome and Shibuya Skyscrapers could be discerned in the distance. Lights blinked far away.