"Then I chop off their heads, it don't hurt cause they're dead!"

When you think of Japan, one of the first things to cross your mind is fish. Fish-smells fill the air of Tokyo streets creating the same kind of comforting aromas of NY’s coffee shops. This fish aroma is nothing like the seafood section of American supermarkets: it's savory and sometimes almost sweet. The wafts of roasted fish and warm miso fill your lungs with a kind of hotness that is at once satisfying and hunger inducing.

Tokyo is home to Tsukiji (pronounced: skee-jee) Fish Market, the largest and probably the freshest wholesale fish market in the world. If it is a sea creature that humans eat, from baby eels to giant tunas, it is sold by the ton at Tsukiji and it can be guaranteed that it was swimming in the ocean less than a day ago. According to my guidebook 2000+ tons of fish are sold here everyday which amounts to $15.5 million dollars of cash exchanging hands during the four hours the fish market is open.

The merchants and fishers who run Tsukiji have inherited the job from their fathers, and their fathers from their fathers reaching as far back as 22 generations. The auctions of the giant tunas and swordfish seem chaotic and unorganized, but they have been selling the fish in this manner since the market opened.

We had to wake up early (3:45am) to catch the action; the inner market gets started around 5am and has everything packed up without a trace by 8am. Groggy and a little grumpy (especially me, I’m NOT a morning person) we jumped in a taxi, a rare occurrence since taxis are so expensive in Tokyo, and made our way to Tsukiji. Inside we saw what reminded me of Ursula’s witch lair in “The Little Mermaid”. The strangest, wildest, and gooiest looking creatures that God created were squirming around in various states of life and death, awaiting their ultimate fate of bringing smiles to hungry people's faces.

I would try to explain all that we saw there, but, in this case, a picture will speak a thousand words. I can tell you that I was surprised with how clean everything was and although dead fish carcasses abounded, the salty ocean was the only thing to smell.

Katie expressing her excitement about the fish market through sign language. The sun rises in Tokyo around 4-4:30am, so we made it outside just as dawn was breaking.

People come to Tsukiji to see big fish. Some of the biggest of these tuna and sword fish can auction for around $20,000 each. We were amazed with just how big and then comparatively just how small this fish can be. This was some kind of very prized fish.
In the auction room, which is a giant warehouse neatly lined with these large, cleanly gutted fish, merchants wait with carts to carry out the fish that have been auctioned off.An auction is going on here. It's hard to believe that everyone in this room knows exactly what is going on. We, of course, had no idea what fish was being sold or for how much. We would have tried to participate, but unfortunately you have to have a license to buy fish here.
Looks like someone has a lot of people to feed.

Some of the fish were frozen from being gutted and then packed in ice in the fishing boats. The restaurant buyers would walk around with cleavers and hooks hacking away of the fish's tails to determine just how good the meat was before any auctioning started.
Some of the biggest of these fish.
Because, to the Japanese, every part of the fish is valuable, many times the tails of these massive fish would be tucked away neatly in the gills. Fins are a tasty snack here.

Octopus? These ones are dead, and like spiders all curled up. They also has live ones packed in deep wooden barrels. I would have gotten a picture, but I get nauseated around eight-legged creatures.
Scallops...tasty.
I never really believed that animals really lived in conch shells.

Sea Snails. If you look closely you can see one of the snails' heads poking out from its shell. It's really quite cute. I feel bad that I like to eat these little guys.
The slaughtering block.
These are eels. They tried to escape this heartless merchant who was methodically slicing through their backbones at the base of their heads.
These hyperactive eels, all too aware of the danger ahead, writhed and wriggled snake-like in their wooden box.
Mountains of fish were neatly packed in Styrofoam.



The market was a maze of hundreds and hundreds of vendors selling his or her specialty catch.



What better way to end our Tsukiji experience than with a sushi breakfast. Unlike our infamous sushi lunch, this one was only $12.