Abandoned vending machines

I have long had a fascination with abandoned places. Old factories, hospitals, hotels, waste plants, private houses, even entire neighborhoods or towns are sometimes abandoned to the elements, left to slowly decay as nature takes it's toll on them. Here in Japan there is plenty to be seen, as evidenced by this site that a friend directed me to. While I haven't been able to go on any expeditions to abandoned sites in Japan so far, I have discovered a new (for me) sub-genre for the hobby - abandoned vending machines.

While walking near Makino a while back, I came upon a cool little cubic building that looked like an abandoned snack bar (snack bars being a Japanese phenomena worthy of its own entry at some point). I stopped to take some pictures.



Around the corner from the entrance though, I found something that intrigued me even more - an old vending machine for hot and cold drinks. Now, vending machines are of course legion in Japan - there's 1 for every 23 people according to an article at www.japan-guide.com. But this one was clearly from another era and it had been a long, long time since anybody received any liquid satisfaction from it.



Exactly when it was abandoned is naturally hard to say, but we can get pretty close by looking at the sample cans left inside.






Asahi began selling "Nova" coffee (top picture, left) in September 1986 and the name was changed to "J.O." in February 1990. I have to rely on Wikipedia's entry for Asahi soft drinks for this information unfortunately, but I was able to confirm that the famous football player Diego Maradona did in fact do advertising for Nova coffee in the 1980s, as Wikipedia states. "Nova is here!"


(Pictured borrowed from www.advertisingarchives.co.uk)

So, this vending machine was probably abandoned by its owner somewhere during the last years of the 1980s. It has been standing there for at least twenty years. This is one of many things that I find fascinating about Japan - old things are sometimes left around, not always swept away in the latest redesign or renovation as they are in Sweden.

In fact, this machine is like a mini-museum to Japanese vending machine history. It kind of makes me wish someone would take care of it. Most of these drinks probably don't even exist anymore - well, except for Pepsi. And apparently Bireley's may still be available in Japan.



Since that time, I have begun finding more abandoned vending machines on my walks. Perhaps I have some selective perception going on. Anyway, here are a couple of other examples. I'm especially curious about what the game vending machine had to offer.





By the way, I cannot let this post end without mentioning Ikeda san, a Japanese man who has been taking pictures of the same vending machine in Hokkaido for the last five years ... every day. He documents the changes in advertising and drinks offered very carefully. On days when he is away on business trips or just can't go for any reason, his wife takes pictures for him. That's a good wife for you. You can read about him in English here and check out his blog (all Japanese) here.

Adventure Hotel Chapel Coconuts

I spent most of the 1990s in Uppsala, an old university town and power center in Sweden. Uppsala is situated in the middle of a big plain of flat farmland, almost devoid of distinguishing landmarks. Putting some distance between yourself and the town only two features stand out, rising above the low city skyline - the Royal Castle and the Cathedral. Representing worldly and heavenly power, their creators new what they were doing, finding the only hill in the area to build upon. Those two buildings dominate the city, they project their influence over it. They tell us something about what kind of place Uppsala is - or at least what it used to be.

Having spent a lot of time walking around Hirakata, I have come across a building that has the same dominating grip on the surrounding skyline. Easily visible, day or night, it sits atop its hill in resplendent majesty.



At night it is lit up like a beacon. On a sunny day its walls glow bright pink. I am of course talking about the eclectically named Adventure Hotel Chapel Coconuts.



With its palm tree-lined entrances, lively color scheme and exotic bird theme, not to mention its telling price list and room pictures, the Chapel Coconuts is not just any ordinary hotel. Rather, it's a prime example of something many Westerners find fascinatingly curious - the Japanese love hotel.

Before I came to Japan for the first time in 2006, I read a couple of the standard travel guides and checked a lot of web pages. Love hotels often came up in the "only in Japan!" category of must-sees. But I got the feeling from my readings that love hotels were mostly a thing that belonged in the past, a sort of service establishment that was in decline.



How wrong I was. As far as I can see, they are very much alive. Having spent some time walking around Tokyo, Sapporo and Osaka, I have come across gaudy love hotel districts in all three cities, seemingly doing brisk business. According to a January article on The Japan Times Online web site, love hotels are considered such a good investment that there are even special love hotel funds available to investors. As one such investor is quoted as saying, "It's related to one of the three biggest basic human desires, so it's recession-resistant." The article also mentions that some 37 000 of these places are estimated to exist in Japan.

Short-stay hotels are not something that only exists in Japan of course. I have come across them in other places, like Mexico and the U.S. Those were in pretty seedy areas though, and seemed to my untrained eye to be very much geared towards prostitution. That doesn't seem to be the case to the same degree with the Japanese version.



Granted, there were one or two unaccompanied women standing around in a Kyobashi love hotel area when I walked through there a couple of weeks ago, and I have navigated through a tiny, labyrinthine block of love hotels in Iriya, Tokyo, with neon-colored houses and a middle-aged woman waiting around every corner. But a recent Saturday night visit to Namba yielded none of that, only several young couples walking hand-in-hand through the well-delineated block of hotels, checking out the different menus before disappearing into their establishment of choice.

Personally, I've only concerned myself with the outsides of love hotels so far, enjoying their often outrageous design. If Japanzine's very information-packed article (as re-printed on the Quirky Japan Homepage) on love hotels is to be believed though, the insides of these places are changing, away from the garish and crazy towards the more discretely stylish. Giant mirrors, revolving beds, vibrating chairs and weird theme rooms may soon be a thing of the past in most places.



So perhaps it's time to go before these hotels all get gentrified. For the curious, Japanzine has plenty of recommendations and the Osaka area seems especially fruitful. Beware that some of the specific hotel information appears outdated. A quick search showed that JZ favorites such as Gang Snowman and Belles des Belles have already been re-modeled. You can also check out this love hotel listing, "IN ENGLISH!", that looks to be up-to-date.

In the meantime, Adventure Hotel Chapel Coconuts does not seem to have given up on offering the fantastic rather than the sophisticated. The website proudly proclaims that it re-opened in March after a period of renovation, still boasting brightly colored rooms and a sort of theme park ground floor with a giant snake's head and a grotto feel. And the exotic birds and dolphins are all still there.



For a Canadian honeymooning couple's report on their stay in a love hotel, see this news article from The Globe and Mail: "There's nothing like standing in a hotel devoted exclusively to sex and staring at a black-lit mural of humpback whales to give you the sensation that you are in a different country."

The latest Japanzine Magazine, with articles in English about what's going on in Japan, can be downloaded for free here.