Road to cleaning.
The night is now coming to a close. So is all selling activity. The market gradually empties out. This is when the Tsukiji market salarymen make their appearance: mysterious, compact figures wearing elegant suits, armed with bags, transparent gloves and brooms.
It’s a picture where order and contrast live side by side, along with rigour and labour. All this is reflected in the shiny rubber boots they use to march along the aisles, which are always spotless.
So much so that, after a while, you become aware of something rather remarkable: the largest fish market in the world doesn’t actually smell of fish.
There’s nothing quite like Tsukiji.
