The Ching-Ching Train
After a busy day looking at gardens and then rushing across the city to visit the Yoshiwara, I was looking forward to riding with Sue and Andy on the ‘Toden Arakawa Line’, a tramway that Sue had read about in a guidebook but not visited. This is the last of the old Tokyo tramways, the oldest part of it dating from the early 1920s. I found out that locals call it the 'ching ching train' because of the distinctive noise that the bells make as the tram leaves the stations. So, following the instructions in the guidebook we set off to walk to the line from the Yamanote Line station.
It was a very long way to the Arakawa Line station, but when we got there it was worth it. The station was very much like some of the ones on the Enoden, crammed into a small space, accessed from a level crossing, with sharp curves. Since this is in the centre of Tokyo, the gardens aren’t so obvious, but the line seemed to run through incredibly tight clearances between the backs of small offices, shops and apartments. There was only going to be time for a short ride, so we decided to ride a few stops to the west, where it seemed that there would be more of this type of track.
We crammed into the crowded tram and I thought I might need to hide in Andy’s camera-bag, a habit I’d got into on the Yamanote Line, but after a couple of stations a lot of people got off. Andy could now use his camera and I looked outof the window, spotting that the exodus was because there was a Yamanote Line station across the road. Andy started to criticise the guide-book again, but Sue pointed out that we wouldn't have seen the Chinatown if we'd come straight here. I got embarrassed and went to look at the map, quickly calculating that if we didn’t need to walk back and get the underground, we could ride all the way to Waseda station, the terminus, come back to here and take the Yamanote Line home
By now the tram was mostly empty, so I settled down to look out over the driver’s shoulder. We raced between crammed buildings, then suddenly emerged into a shopping square with bright lights (I still hadn’t worked it out), racing around a very tight bend between the waiting cars, then back into a straight narrow trackway between some buildings again. More and more the contrasts were reminding me of the Enoden, but without the beaches, of course.
We passed other trams at regular intervals, mostly at stations but occasionally, unlike the Enoden, when we were moving. It seemed very fast because the trams were so close together and, just like the Tokyo monorail, frighteningly close to the walls. It was all very bustling and exciting but the driver was very relaxed and occasionally waved and ching-chinged at the other drivers. We almost had the tram to ourselves by now and I reckoned that everyone else was going to the end of the line. The tram ran between some tall apartment block and round some more blind bends.
Then finally we came out into open air, heading downhill at quite a speed towards the last three stations. Just as on the monorail, Sue, who loves roller-coasters, found this great fun. When I couldn’t really see the next tram coming up, I noticed the overhead wires silhouetted in a rather nice sunset. The sunset seemed to make the suburban apartment blocks a bit prettier, and I hadn’t seen many others so I just enjoyed it. Andy simply commented that it was very evocative but would be almost impossible to capture in a model.
Finally we reached Waseda and realised why the trams are so regular. It’s not just the Japanese liking for punctuality; it’s also because, again like the monorail, the terminus itself is single-track. We could either wait for our tram to run back out, or wander round outside for a little. After exploring we found a little bar, which is probably popular with commuters in the evenings, because you can sit at a table, watch the tram come in, finish your drink and get on. I had a very nice dark beer bottled for the 125th anniversary of the founding of the university. When I finished it was completely dark. I asked Andy to do a picture like the ones he did for the fishmarket. He said 'just the one'. Thanks, Andy.