These then are images along those lines. Quiet frames that give at least some sense of the changes Tokyo is going through.

All that said, I also appreciate the look and imperfections of film, so I generally carry an old school camera in my bag as well. One that admittedly may not get used all that often, but one that is nonetheless always there. And so these then are some film photos taken in various abandoned places in and around Japan over the last 6 months or so. Moments when I remembered the camera was there, felt the shot was worthy, or simply had a day when I wanted to shoot more film.

Sadly that doesn’t mean old Osaka isn’t gradually disappearing, because it is — I just don’t get to revisit the same places as regularly as I do in Tokyo. That said, this particular scene caught my eye on a recent-ish walk there. It was the lady I recognised first. Stood in exactly the same spot as when I last saw her. Only this time, the old stationary shop on the corner wasn’t there anymore. The space it once occupied already being readied for its modern replacement.

On this occasion, however, there was still continuity, with the presence of both the woman and her fruit, vegetable and pickle selling near neighbour. The first three photos being before, and the latter three now. A now that will hopefully persist well into the future.

For a lot of my work that gets published, I choose the photos, and quite often the sequencing of them too. At other times, simply a single or small number of images are requested.

The process for The Vanishing World, however, was completely different, as the photographs were chosen without my input, which made seeing the resultant selection and the order they were arranged in genuinely interesting. They represent a far more objective take than I could ever manage, as invariably I have all kinds of associations with the photos I take.

A collection then that I’m very happy with. Only one photo was swapped out in the end, and that was for a similar shot from the same location.

The zine itself is also well made, dimensionally quite small (210mm x 148mm), but at the same packed with 25 photographs. Printed in the UK, it is available from Bump Books, but I have a limited number of signed copies available that I’m offering at a reduced price in combination with an A4 print of the overgrown car shot below — or a different print if you get in touch before ordering. Available from my shop here should you be interested, with free worldwide shipping included.

The weather was pretty much ideal most of the time, with light where and when we wanted it, along with a fresh layer of snow covering the traditional villages. We also met a whole host of interesting and friendly people, plus most importantly of all, the fellow photographers who joined us were the loveliest group we could have hoped for. The key ingredient that made the whole trip an absolute joy.

These then are just some of the photos I took along the way. A mixture of markets, old streets and arcades, plus in a break from the images I usually show, some non-urban landscapes. All of which we’ll visit again next year, so if you are interested in participating, keep an eye out for the upcoming dates and info.

It should be said that just like all the other visits, I wasn’t hassled at all for getting fairly close and taking photographs. No words at all were spoken. In fact there was barely even a dirty look. A lack of reaction that I do appreciate, especially as I am very visibly foreign..

All that said, this year felt slightly different. The country now has a new Prime Minister whose large majority signals a significant shift to the right, with constitutional revision among the many touted changes. A trend that arguably began in the previous election with gains for the then relatively unknown ‘Japanese First’ Sanseito party.

The group in the photos, of course, are way beyond anything in mainstream politics, but it did make me think about the potential changes to come, both in regards legislation, and daily life.

Now in its sixth decade, it’s possible the shop may still last many more years to come. At the same time, quite conceivably it could be gone next month. Even next week. For now though it happily remains. A sight to simply take in and thoroughly enjoy.

That said, with the view overlooking Shinjuku, it did make me think about all the time I’ve spent there over the years, along with the many photographs I’ve taken. A good few of which have become all time faves.

Thoughts then that resulted in this series. A ‘Shinjuku Best’ kind of collection. Or perhaps more accurately, the best at the present moment, as such tastes do tend to change over time. It was hard though whittling them down to a manageable number, so I decided to make this set the more cohesive sequence, and then put all of them together in my latest newsletter. It’s viewable here, and this is where you can subscribe if you’d like to.

I first visited in 2017, with half of these photos taken back then, but finding myself in the area just recently, it was impossible to resist another look. Perhaps unsurprisingly, more damage has been meted out to the increasingly sinister residents, with John Wayne in particular looking very worse for wear. Or at least that’s who I assume the cowboy is supposed to be. His dark and empty eye sockets proving especially unsettling.

Far more disappointing was to find the buildings all boarded up, meaning photos of their inhabitants had to be taken through the windows, although in some ways that made them more atmospheric. Plus the whole area is still watched over by the hugely incongruous Mount Rushmore recreation. A sight that one definitely does not expect to see by the side of an otherwise nondescript Japanese road.

These then are photographs of some of the interiors we saw. Sights that in so many of Japan’s small towns and settlements are increasingly the norm. A decline that will only become more visible as the population gets smaller, and those young enough continue to make their wholly understandable exodus to the country’s major hubs and cities. All of which make such locations a fascinating mix of the past, present and future.

Well, until recently that is, as when passing by last week, I found the building and those to the left of it emptied out and scheduled for demolition. An all too inevitable end it has to be said, but hopefully not for the lady, who fingers crossed is now living somewhere that is a lot comfier, even if it likely doesn’t have the same kind of character.

Below then is some of what what we saw. A mixture of things we wanted to see, along with plenty of nicely unexpected surprises.

Also, talking of workshops, a last minute cancellation has opened up one spot on the Winter Scenery and Old School Streets trip Giovanni and are running in February, so if that sounds of interest, the details are here.

On a more personal level, 2025 has happily been a busy one. My Tokyo Photowalk business continues to do well, with Osaka now very much a part of that as well. Doing the walks for so many years now means it’s also been really nice to welcome back customers for second, third or fourth outings. A lovely, unexpected extra that makes such work all the more rewarding.

This year also marked the start of my newsletter. It’s here if you are interested. Something I’d wanted to try for ages, and now it’s been up and running for a good few months, I’m happy I did. A medium that allows me to write about things and photos slightly differently.

In the 2024 round-up I mentioned a project I’d been working on that was expected to see the light of day in spring 2025. Well, it didn’t. Thankfully though it was just a delay, and it (a book I’m pleased to say) should be out by April or May next year. There’ll be a Tokyo street photography book I’m a part of released in the first half of the year as well. Plus on top of that my good friend Giovanni and I are doing an 8-day, Japanese old school streets and winter scenery workshop in February, with hopefully an autumn one coming soon. So lots to look forward to and be grateful for in 2026.

That, however, is the future. For now, these are the photo series I liked the most over the last 12 months. As always, some are simply down to the resultant images, whereas others are more due to the attachment I have to them, along with several that are a mixture of both. There’s no particular order. Just how I felt they worked best. I’ve also added links to the original posts and full series of photos, as only some from each set are included here.

All of which pretty much wraps up Tokyo Times for the year. Regular Tuesday updates will resume again on January 6th, so until then, enjoy the holidays and be sure to appreciate the people you spend them with.

More Tokyo citizens and their everyday surroundings

The inevitable end of a lovely little Tokyo building

The green and space of Tokyo’s far west

Old and dated scenes from a southern Japan city

Scenes from a traditional old Tokyo bathhouse

Sights from a search for a stunning old Tokyo Coca-Cola sign

The beauty of nature taking man-made objects back

An old Tokyo bar, its owners and a rare case of renewal

The end of a stunning old Tokyo bookshop

An 88-year-old man in his lovely old Japanese coffee shop

Abandoned arcade games and cable cars

Post-apocalyptic scenes from a long-abandoned Japanese hotel

Lost Tokyo lives and looks

Still, those two stores and all the old signs made it a sight to behold. Returning recently, however, the inevitable had happened. In fact, not only had it been completely demolished, but a new house was already standing on part of the land it once occupied.

Like I mentioned in my July newsletter, I’m trying to be more zen about these kinds of disappearances, and rather than feeling sad, I simply try to be grateful for the chance I had to see, experience and photograph such places. And being fortunate enough to have seen this little street really is something to feel thankful for.

Once cleaned up, I was then offered some instant ramen, along with a selection of alcoholic beverages in miniature bottles that were magically produced from a nearby cupboard. Offers I had to politely decline as it wasn’t the right time of day for any of them, but it was also clear that more than anything, she just wanted someone to talk to, even if that person grew up in a very different environment, and also didn’t quite understand every word she said. So we chatted for a while, and she told me a bit about her life. One that she now lived alone, in her former business, and where visits weren’t anywhere near as frequent as she’d have liked. She also apologised for the stuff piled up here, there and everywhere, but at 93 years of age, she was simply too old and too tired to do much about It.

Before I left and continued on my walk. she kindly posed for a couple of portraits, and then we said our goodbyes. An encounter that for me at least was incredibly memorable. Plus, as time passed, it became increasingly poignant, as I never saw her again. In fact, I never even saw the shutters open. Well, until just recently that is, when the building was being ripped apart for renovation. So I stepped inside one more time to take one last photo. This time though there was no conversation or offers of alcohol. No life either. Not even any signs of it. Just the silence of an empty building that was once a home.

Below then are photos from a recent trip when I had the pleasure of spending several days walking some of my favourite areas. Locations where the streets and residents’ faces are filled with stories, and in so many ways, where the past feels far more real than the present.