The Stories behind Japan's Bridges

From the four winds and the scent of the earth, come the color of the seasons.

Exploring the four seasons of Japan.

Traveling across Japan, we can find many bridges of all shapes and sizes.

Shizuoka Prefecture is home to Japan's longest pedestrian-only suspension bridge.

Unusually, the bridge, which is designed to provide relaxed views of Mount Fuji, was funded by private donor.

Sometimes I'm amazed that...

we managed to build this, other times I think
wow, look what we have gone and done.

This small bridge in Iwate is hand-made.

Even if relatively few people use it, it is an important crossing for the local community.

Often, a bridge does not feel
like a natural part of a river.

But here it fits right in.

We would feel sad without it.

This bridge, in Asahikawa, Hokkaido, was where many soldiers, who went off to war never to return, said goodbye to their hometown.

When I was a child, we were told to salute when-
ever we went under the bridge, and at the time, I simply remembered I needed
to make that gesture.

Today, the same bridge brings loved ones together.

I proposed on top of the bridge.

Bridges join us together,
linking both sides.

By crossing bridges, we can create prosperous communities.

By crossing bridges, we can make new discoveries.

By crossing bridges, we can meet those we care about.

Today, we hear the story of bridges linking communities throughout Japan.

Studying bridges is one way to understand Tokyo.

This is the completed Azuma Bridge.

The 'portal bracing' at the end of the bridge has a
ast metal lattice with cherry blossom detailing.

It's a lovely piece of work.

These bridges helped spur the development of Tokyo.

Tokyo metropolitan government employee Kurebayashi Akio is a specialist in bridge design and repair.

He takes us back to the late 19th century, when Japan was vying to catch up with Western technology.

Building modern bridges was one way to join the club of advanced industrial nations.

Tokyo had many arched bridges.

Carriages and rickshaws
couldn't get up the slope.

These bridges formed bottlenecks,
and they weren't very strong either.

They held the economy back.

So rebuilding these bridges
was first on the agenda.

Tokyo's old wooden bridges were gradually replaced with new structures of stone or metal.

The construction of new bridges transformed Tokyo into a vibrant metropolis where people and goods could move unimpeded.

Isn't it beautiful?

Tokyo's highest vantage point allows a bird's-eye view of numerous bridges.

The Sumida River is unique
in the variety of its bridges.

It's like an exhibition of bridge-building.

In the background, with the tall white tower, is the Chuo Ohashi Bridge, which is supported by cables extending from the tower.

Nearer the camera are Eitai Bridge, and Sumidagawa Ohashi Bridge.

In the foreground is Kiyosu Bridge, a suspension bridge.

Why do the bridges over the Sumida River include such variety?

The reason dates back to the Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923, which leveled the city.

700 bridges were built or rebuilt after the quake.

After the earthquake, they didn't have
much money, and had to quickly rebuild.

It would've been more efficient and cheaper to
use the same specifications for all new bridges.

The reason that this was not done is that if all of the bridges had the same structure, then they would all start needing maintenance at exactly the same time

and would all be destroyed by the same size of future tremor.

Building a variety of bridges also allowed engineers to experience a variety of techniques.

It is the oldest bridge
over the Sumida River.

Eitai Bridge was built from some of the most advanced materials and technology of the time.

However, during World War II, it was struck during air raids.

Can you see it?

It's dented. That is a mark left
over from an incendiary bomb.

However, the bridge withstood the direct hit.

Even after the war, with increasing
traffic, it did not need rebuilding.

This next bridge is one of Akio's favorites.

This is Kiyosu Bridge,
it is the bridge I like best.

Kiyosu Bridge, a suspension bridge, stands alongside Eitai Bridge as one of the great achievements of the reconstruction.

It includes some interesting design elements.

If you take Eitai Bridge
and turn it upside-down, you can see that it matches
the curve of Kiyosu Bridge.

- Does it match exactly?
- Yes it does.

Today, with the emphasis on saving money, this variety of bridges would be likely impossible.

We can see how, back then, the engineers enjoyed themselves with these designs.

Our next port of call is the village of Hinohara, also in Tokyo.

It's looking worn, isn't it?

It was sparkling clean at first.

Omukai Bridge it's the first bridge that Akio ever designed, at the age of 25.

The young Akio designed a new bridge to prevent the river from flooding, removing the central pillar that was part of the old design.

There was a pillar in the middle.

When a typhoon came, timber
got washed down from upstream.

It was blocked by the pillar
causing the water level to rise.

I was worried it would
come over my fence.

Now the water flows better.

- It's safer now, isn't it.
- Yes.

In the end, bridges are for people,
aren't they? They are for everybody.

Its very satisfying.

I loved doing this job.

The one that flew off is a heron.

It's not frightening if you keep
your eyes a few steps ahead.

Some people cycle
across for a dare.

The postman even
crosses on his motorbike.

Matsubi Bridge in Sumita Town, Iwate Prefecture, dates from samurai times.

It's 40 meters in length.

Made from wood, it was built by local people.

Kinno Junichi, who is responsible for the local community center, is a community leader.

This year, we've already
rebuilt it six times.

- It was washed away six times?
- That's right.

Once it was washed away
again after only one week.

Matsubi Bridge is designed to break and wash away whenever the weather rises after heavy rain.

A stronger bridge will catch floating timbers at its base, raising the risk of flooding, and so the bridge is deliberately designed to collapse.

No matter how many times the bridge is washed away, the local people work together to build another.

Long ago, these bridges were essential crossing points for school children and farmers, but today, this is the only one left.

There is a permanent bridge
a little further down the river, and this is the only
collapsible bridge remaining.

We would feel sad without it.

The reason for rebuilding again and again?

He'd feel lost without it.

Some people have other reasons.

I know where to catch
the salmon and the trout.

I don't want to boast, but I once caught
three in five minutes with a fishing fork.

The reason for rebuilding again and again?

It's the best fishing spot.

Even younger people who don't remember the old days in the village help out.

Ito Mikiko checks on the bridge every day.

I first came to this town as a volunteer.
Since then, I regularly stop by the bridge.

Sometimes we'd cross
together and make it shake.

After the Great East Japan Earthquake, many temporary houses for evacuees were set up in Sumita.

Mikiko first moved from Tokyo to Sumita as a community volunteer.

That was when she first encountered the custom of rebuilding the collapsible bridge.

It's so cold.

Mikiko moved to the village permanently three years ago.

She works remotely as a marketing consultant for a company based near Tokyo.

Isn't this amazing?

A bit like worker ants, it's incredible.

I left work to shoot this video.

To be honest, I'm truly
taken with the bridge.

The reason for rebuilding again and again?

It inspires people who love the bridge.

Ueda Atsuyo is someone else who moved to the town after first visiting as a volunteer.

She helped Junichi crowd source the funds required for repairing the bridge.

It was very difficult after the disaster.

But the bridge helping us together, and
I got to become friends with Atsuyo too.

For locals, it's what they have always done, but for people coming from
outside it seems incredible.

Letting the bridge wash away and then
rebuilding it - it's very unusual approach.

The reason for rebuilding again and again?

A chance to make new friends.

Junichi is looking forward to the spring.

We have planted about 60 cherry
blossom trees, which will bloom together.

After the snow melts, the bridge is a great place for viewing the cherry blossoms.

It's great fun,
here in the countryside.

We'll come together to eat, drink,
chat and enjoy ourselves.

When the bridge is washed away again, local people once again work together to rebuild it.

A traditional inn in a hot spring town.

This area was once a red-light district.

This is our arched bridge.

The bridge carried the visiting
clients into a different world.

You can see how it was set up.

The customers would file past
the outside of this window.

The women would be sitting inside here.

The madam would sit here and
negotiate with the customers.

She would open this hatch.

The customers would then, I guess,
come in through the main entrance, walk through here, and go towards
the courtyard.And here is the bridge.

And from here onwards?

It was their dreamworld.

With the passage of the anti-prostitution law in
1957, the brothel became a regular family-run inn.

The bridge is now a part of their family's life.

I can always tell who is crossing
the bridge by their footsteps.

I know if it's my older brother or
if my Dad has come home.

With the innkeeper's family crossing back and forth for
over 60 years, the bridge now needs a fresh coat of paint.

It's really shining now.

Nobuyuki says that the person he most wanted
to show the new bridge to is his late wife.

Mum, doesn't it look great now.

Mum was always crossing back
and forth. She used it the most.

The bridge remains a focal point of the family inn.

Togetsukyo Bridge, in Arashiyama, Kyoto, visitors observe a peculiar rule.

It is said that those crossing the bridge should never look back.

The custom relates to the temple of Horin-ji, which is located right next to the bridge.

The Ju-san ceremony is held at the temple as spring arrives.

Ju-san means "thirteen."

The ceremony celebrates the growing independence of children reaching thirteen.

Horin-ji is home to an artwork known as a sankei-mandala.

It shows the temple in the first half of the 15th century.

At our temple, 13-year-old children
take part in a ceremony.

The custom of children visiting the temple
goes way back, as shown in this artwork.

The main guardian of our temple, a Buddha known
as Kokuzo Bosatsu, passes down knowledge to us.

It is said that if you look back as you cross
the bridge, the knowledge will fly back too, and that is why you are not supposed to look
back at all until you've reached the other side.

Reaching the age of thirteen, or living through the complete 12-year zodiac cycle as is a sign of growing adulthood.

The children receive the wisdom of the Kokuzo Bosatsu.

However, any child who looks back as they cross the bridge will lose the wisdom they gained.

The Ju-san ceremony begins when each child presents the temple with a carefully drawn Chinese character.

Morinishi Mitsuki has recently graduated from a local Kyoto elementary school.

I want to take on many challenges, which is why
I decided to write the character with that meaning.

I want to start a band with my friend.

Right now, there is only the
two of us, my friend and me.

In years past, both Mitsuki's grandmother and mother crossed the Togetsukyo after taking part in the ceremony.

- Did you do this too?
- Yes, I did it here.

- How many years ago?
- Uh, a few decades ago!

- Her age is a secret.

Generation after generation, takes part in the special event.

They all receive the wisdom of the Kokuzo Bosatsu.

Mitsuki, as she journeys to become an adult, knows that she should not look back.

She keeps looking forward as she walks towards the bridge.

- Do you make sure you're looking forward.
- That's right.

Just in case. Don't talk, eyes front.

The road to the bridge is 500 meters long.

Some celebrants struggle to walk in their kimonos.

One step at a time.

I made it.

You've received the knowledge.

I did it.

I thought it was a little difficult to get
all the way across without looking back.

Now I have received the knowledge.

She's gradually growing up. I already
miss the days when she was small.

I remember taking part in the
ceremony when I was younger, and I'm delighted my
daughter is doing it too.

After crossing the bridge, the children grow up.

The tradition continues down the years.

This is the 16th generation
of Yahagi Bridge.

Ukiyoe, or woodblock prints, of Okazaki focus on
Yahagi Bridge, the Yahagi River and the castle.

Okazaki in Aichi is the home of the Tokugawa Ieyasu, who unified Japan at the beginning of the 17th century.

Back then, Yahagi Bridge at 370 meters long, was the longest bridge in Japan.

Ieyasu encouraged the construction of many bridges.

The town flourished as a staging post for travelers.

Miyagawa Yoichi was born in Okazaki.

He works for the Aichi Prefectural government.

He's in charge of ordering work on bridges and roads.

Today, when bridges are rebuilt
according to the new standards, all of the bridges end up looking the same,

and we find ourselves creating the
same scenery all across Japan.

But I would rather have unique bridges - a combination of unique factors gives a
town its individuality and its atmosphere.

Unique bridges can help give a town its identity.

That's why older bridges should be preserved and kept in use.

Yoichi says that he came to this conclusion after finding one particular bridge.

This is Tono Bridge.

The bridge was first built during Japan's samurai period.

It was rebuilt in 1927 using the then-revolutionary technology of reinforced concrete.

The 1927 bridge remains unchanged today.

I love this.
It shows the opening ceremony.

I think that in those days people got more
excited about the opening of a local bridge.

A new bridge was enough to draw a delighted crowd.

This is the attitude to bridges Yoichi hopes we can maintain.

However, nine years ago, plans were made to improve the bridge's ability to withstand earthquakes.

The rebuild risked changing the bridge's unique appearance.

Every day, we were researching
new methods and new techniques - to come up with various different ideas,
but it was a difficult problem to solve.

I started to feel pressure every
time I looked at the bridge.

Yoichi wanted to preserve the look of the popular Tono Bridge.

His in-depth research led to a new proposal.

Rather than following the original plan to add large amounts of concrete to the tops of the pillars, just under the road, the new plan calls for the complete replacement of the top of the bridge.

Rebuilding the top of the bridge with stronger material allows the pillars to keep their distinctive original shape.

Looking from underneath,
I call this the Oto River Parthenon - It's a very unique vista.

Yoichi encourages local people to continue looking after the bridge.

We hold a special event
where we scrub the bridge.

When you actually scrub
the bridge by hand, you develop an affection for it
and feel that it belongs to us all.

So the next time they go knock it down,
local people won't stand for it.

Ready - go.

We all have fun wiping the bridge,
it's exciting to do it together.

- So many people came to take part.
- I'm delighted too. It brings a tear to my eye.

Bridge builders.

Bridge crossers.

Every unique bridge has its own unique story.

On which bridge will you find yours?