Dark Tourist (2018–…): Season 1, Episode 2 - Japan - full transcript
David visits a town hit by heavy radiation, hikes through a supposedly haunted forest and explores an abandoned island with its former residents.
My name is David Farrier.
I'm a journalist from New Zealand,
and I'm investigating dark tourist
hotspots around the world.
This time, I'm traveling in Japan.
Dark tourism can be hazardous,
so what better way to start my trip
than a disaster training course?
The quake starts
Quite intense.
But I'm not really sure this is going to
prepare me for what's to come.
As I visit
the world's most popular suicide spot...
- There's something on that tree.
- That's not good.
...I step into a bizarre future
run entirely by robots...
Please enjoy your stay in Henn na Hotel.
...explore a ten-story ghost island...
This is amazing.
...and I indulge in
a spot of nuclear tourism.
- So what are you seeing here?
- Oh, my God.
The level of radiation is higher
than around Chernobyl,
where no one is allowed to go.
Life can be dangerous
when you're a dark tourist.
I start my trip at the center
of one of Japan's worst disasters.
The atomic meltdown
in the province of Fukushima.
Nuclear tourism. Who would
have thought it would be a thing?
Most normal people wouldn't go near
a radioactive nuclear site,
but it sounds perfect for a dark tourist
and I'm in a bus full of them.
In 2011,
this province was devastated
by a massive earthquake
and then a tsunami,
which caused an explosion and radiation
leak at the Daiichi nuclear power station.
Over 20,000 people were killed.
Much more of the province was evacuated
because of the radiation.
Until now,
this has been a restricted area,
but the government says
it's now okay for residents to return.
I had to come and see for myself
what a nuclear disaster looks like.
Is it even safe to be here?
Well, ladies and gentlemen,
I am your tourist guide.
Our guide for the day is Yo.
So I have to be careful
with my right and left
because to you it's switched.
So I have to say, "On your right,"
and, "On your left."
It seems like just another walk
in the radioactive park for Yo.
He certainly doesn't seem concerned
about any danger.
What are the levels
you'd be concerned about, Yo?
So for living in the area...
...0.20 worries me.
Okay.
It's funny. It's very hard.
Because you're such a happy person,
it's very hard to know, for me and for us,
how dangerous it is.
I'm not growing extra horns
or extra fingers.
My fellow dark tourists include
a group of equally fascinated foreigners.
I heard that vitamin D helps offset
the effects of radiation.
Keeping yourself safe any way you can.
Yeah.
Our first stop on the disaster
tour is the town of Tomioka.
The tsunami didn't get this far,
but the town did get hit by the 'quake
and then the radioactive cloud.
Okay, let's get off the bus.
This is one of the towns
the government says is safe,
but the residents don't seem keen
on returning.
In fact, it's still completely abandoned.
- There's not a lot of people here.
- Yeah.
Pretty quiet.
I'm surprised
that thieves haven't looted the place.
Maybe they know something we don't.
Oh, my God!
- 0.7.
- We're going up. 0.72.
We've all brought our own Geiger counters,
the equivalent of metal detectors
for radiation.
Suddenly, they all start pinging off.
The radiation here is way higher
than anything I was warned about
and immediately
the nuclear tourists are concerned.
You told us before
that the level of radiation
at which you'd start being worried
is 0.2.
My Geiger meter is showing 0.75.
That's higher than around Chernobyl,
where no one is allowed to go.
How do you tell people that it's okay
to come here when it's such a high level?
Because they had declared
state of emergency,
that means they can raise
the maximum amount of radiation allowed.
And they want to make the appearance
of being safe here.
But it's not.
- You can find it yourself.
- But...
- In how many years?
- In how many years, yeah.
It will probably take more than 200 years
to bring everything back to normal,
so to say.
- 200?
- 200.
Suddenly,
nuclear tourism doesn't seem like
such a great idea.
It's a little unsettling when this thing
starts beeping more and more,
especially when you're seeing stores
with broken shop fronts and everything.
And some little kids' bikes inside.
It's pretty eerie.
I can see why it's hard
to get people to move back, you know?
And it gets better.
Yo tells us
the dust is particularly radioactive.
He warns breathing it in
could give us cancer.
I'm not sure this is the kind of thrill
these dark tourists were hoping for.
I notice you've got your mask on now.
Well, it's so dusty in here.
You're making me think
I should put one on as well.
- I sort of forgot we had them.
- Well, they are available, so...
- You have to open it.
- I've got to open it up?
Oh, I see. Never had to put one on before.
It's just really dusty in here. I figured
it was a good time to put it on.
But, as you can see,
it fogs up my glasses,
so now I can't see anything.
Got a real fog problem.
We head out of Tomioka
along Route Six,
into the heart of the nuclear disaster.
We are passing through areas
which still remain part
of the feared radioactive exclusion zone,
though, in a cunning act of rebranding,
the government now prefers to call it
the "difficult to return to" zone.
- This is a gate street.
- Gates on every entrance.
Look at those gates.
There are barriers blocking entrances
to any possible way into the no go zone.
This is now looking
more like a military zone
and the bus isn't even allowed
to stop here.
But Yo is prepared to try and get us in.
This is a "difficult to return to" zone.
Go back to the bus.
This area is closed, except for vehicles.
You need to leave quickly.
What's the problem?
This is the area that's designated
as the "no returning" area.
So we're not supposed to park
around here and let the people out.
- Okay.
- Only passing through.
How long have you worked here for?
- Five years.
- Five years?
You enjoy your job?
Hurry up and leave already.
Okay.
If job satisfaction comes
from getting rid of people like us,
he should be a happy man.
But I still want to look
inside the forbidden zone,
so I convince Yo to let me out
on the side of the road for a sneaky peek.
No more than five minutes
if possible.
Get ready.
- Okay, go.
- Go, David.
Go, David.
Now.
The amusement arcade
has been left untouched since the 'quake.
It's pretty eerie...
just seeing these toys just lying down,
just kind of done.
Let's try upstairs.
Let's try looking through...
Wow!
This is totally wrecked.
There's a lot of dust in here,
which is unsettling.
Unsettling is an understatement.
The objects and dust in here
are especially radioactive
as rain and wind can't get in
to wash any radioactive particles away.
We've already been warned once,
so I don't particularly want them
to see us in here.
Watch the glass, guys.
But we've pushed our luck too far.
We don't speak Japanese.
- Passport? ID?
- In the bus.
We're sprung.
But Yo comes to our rescue
and tries to smooth things over.
- So what is going on here, sir?
- You are not allowed...
- I understand we can't stop here.
- Yes, you got it, sir.
After what seems
like an eternity, and a stern warning,
we are sent on our way,
but Yo's not happy with my excursion.
Is there a risk
of getting arrested, do you think?
Just now? We were lucky.
I say.
Okay.
- All right. Thanks, Yo.
- Sure.
I'm beginning to feel bad
that Yo had to bail us out.
To be honest, this tour is
more stressful than I thought it would be.
Lunch comes as a welcome break.
We stop in Namie
at a cafe called Grandma's,
which is run, unsurprisingly, by grandmas.
- Konnichiwa.
- Arigato.
It's part of the government
initiative to lure people back into town.
But when I find out that none
of the grandmas live here,
something doesn't sit right.
Who's eating?
Do we all want to eat?
- What is the food, though? Where is...
- How safe is it?
I love Japanese food,
but like the others,
I'm nervous about eating anything
that comes from around here.
- Have you eaten here before, Yo?
- No.
- First time.
- First time.
- Yo?
- Yes?
Is all this food from this area?
So it's all grown locally?
- I have no idea, actually.
- No idea?
- It's difficult to know about everything?
- Well, I'm not going to worry about it.
But we're starving and we give in.
It may be radioactive but it's delicious.
Yo, do you ever worry about anything?
It seems like you don't worry, ever.
We have to live in this country.
I have to live here day to day.
And worrying about it too much is
really not good for your mental health.
- Hm.
- Yeap.
Life is full of dangers.
That's the thing, right?
- You might get hit by a bus tomorrow.
- That's right.
Ah!
Ugh!
The government have even hired
street performers
to attract people back to the area
and I'm quickly roped in to help.
I have no idea what's going on.
Wow!
See? There's nothing to worry about here.
How can you worry when this is going on?
Does it suit me?
Boink!
After lunch, we hit the coast,
to where the giant tsunami wave
first came ashore.
This was once a landscape of little towns,
full of people,
but all that has been wiped away
and is now a wasteland.
So where are we now, Yo?
What's the situation here?
This is the tsunami-inundated area.
So this is where the tsunami swept across?
Tsunami stripped the whole town.
When the tsunami
overcame the sea wall,
it was 15 meters high.
And about 260 people...
died in this area.
I can't comprehend
what a 15-meter wall of water looks like
or where I'd run to.
The people here would have had no chance.
This is all that's left
of homes, shops, lives.
Just reduced to rubble and ruin.
It's pretty surreal
seeing just personal items
all just dumped, essentially, to rot.
It does bring it all home.
The only objects heavy enough
to stand their ground were gravestones,
mute testament to all the people
who lived and died here.
I find the place profoundly sad.
But not everyone has the same reaction.
Okay, not even...
The radio reactor just exploded.
- Your face should explode, too.
- I don't know what that means.
Be masculine!
- You got good photos in there?
- We have good selfie, I think.
I could have pulled my second look,
but it's fine.
- I can live without it.
- Paris Fashion Week.
We can laugh a little bit,
but I think it's pretty serious.
- Do you?
- Yeah. No, I completely agree.
It's a thing you kind of laugh
to cover up your nerves sometimes.
Yeah.
Earthquake, tsunami
and then, finally, radiation.
A nuclear disaster is
the unwanted gift that keeps on giving.
And here lies the motherlode.
Under the green tarp, there's piles
of those flexible container bags.
They contain
the low-level radioactive soil
or the plants.
The government scraped off
the radioactive topsoil
and stored it, "temporarily".
These dirt dumps are
all over the province.
It seems unbelievable that there are
more than nine million bags of this stuff
just lying around.
I just wonder what the hell
they are going to do with it all.
So how long
can this concoction survive?
- Two to three years.
- Yeah.
As you can see, some black bags
are kind of deteriorating.
So they're probably covering it
to hide the fact that it's deteriorating.
That was probably so.
They were designed
to last three years,
but that was six years ago.
Their order and precision is beautiful
and, dare I say it, a nice Instagram post,
but that doesn't change the fact
that the radioactive soil is still here.
I wouldn't want my adult children,
who haven't had their families yet,
to come here. My daughters.
'Cause there is that thing
about what sex you are.
I feel like there's probably more danger
for females to come in than males.
Right.
As we drive,
the scale of this shit-show
starts to dawn on me.
Town after town is like this.
Wrecked...
radioactive...
abandoned.
This point, this is designated as
"difficult to return to" zone.
That means you need to have
a special permit to go through this area.
No one's really listening now.
Instead, everyone is focused
on their Geiger counters.
So what are you seeing here?
I'm going up to 1.43 now.
1,55.
- 1.89.
- What the hell! That's a lot.
Yeah. It's going up.
Yeah, I'm not sure if it is
higher than Chernobyl. Is it?
Basically, I looked at Safecast
and it has the whole area's map.
And it was saying
the highest we'd get here is about 0.4.
But this is four times the amount of that.
So I'm actually very, very uncomfortable
with the situation.
And I'm not sure this is safe.
I'm starting to worry as well.
Is everyone happy to keep... going?
If that was honestly the highest
it was going to be, then I'm fine,
but, you know, I take this stuff
really seriously as well.
The truth is,
Anya's just said aloud
what's going through everyone's minds.
We're all paranoid about the radiation,
especially as Yo told us
anything over 0.2 was unsafe.
Here we go.
1.9.
- 2.3.
- 2.8.
The levels keep rising.
Everyone is seriously on edge.
No one was expecting
readings this high,
not even our own crew.
So what we just experienced
wasn't even the highest?
No.
- So that wasn't a hotspot?
- No. You know that.
I'll stay on the bus!
Even the bus doesn't feel
like a shield any more,
and the levels continue to get higher.
- Oh, my God. 1.87.
- Oh, my God!
- 3.75.
- Oh, my God.
- 7.19.
- Oh, my God.
The readings are fifty times
over the 0.2 threshold.
I don't want to stay another minute here,
and I'm not alone.
- I have 9.71 now.
- Scare point.
- All right.
- We are scared.
- We have officially been scared.
- Yeah.
- Let's go.
- Let's do that.
- All in favor?
- Okay, who wants to go?
- I'd like to go.
- Okay, let's go.
The driver just turned off the engine!
It's just not the place to break down.
By unanimous decision, this tour is over.
They say it's safe to return to Fukushima,
and good luck to anyone that does,
but this place is still
way too radioactive for my liking.
It's been a real buzz
seeing a nuclear wasteland first hand,
and I can see
why dark tourists get a thrill out of it,
but one tour is enough for me.
I want to get as far away
from the disaster zone as possible.
My hotel isn't known
for its comfy beds or creature comforts,
but follows the post-apocalyptic theme
by offering a glimpse
into a strange, alternate future,
a future run entirely by robots.
It's probably at the odd end
of the dark tourist spectrum.
Hello.
Please hold up your passport
to the reader
or touch "no passport"
if you don't have one.
As a card-carrying member
of the Jurassic Park fan club,
being served by a velociraptor
is pretty damn cool.
Please enjoy your stay in Henn na Hotel.
Thank you.
The hotel promises me
a highlight of my stay
will be my own personal robot.
Relax and make yourself at home.
Hello.
Oh. Hi, there. How do you do?
Really good.
Can you sing a song?
Just...
What time are you going to wake up?
Seven a.m.
But back to the original question,
can you sing a song?
Yes. May I help you?
Yes. Can you sing a song?
Tomorrow's set an alarm clock
at eight-thirty.
Things get even more bizarre
when I realize
my robot hotel is set smack in the middle
of a replica 17th-century Dutch town.
Yes, still in Japan.
It's definitely weird, and kind of fun,
but why is everyone wearing a mask?
It's a wonderfully twisted time warp.
21st-century virtual reality
on a 17th-century carousel.
I'm not sure if I'm meant to be
in the past or the future
or perhaps just a parallel universe?
Turn the lights off.
Is that a question or a statement?
May I help you?
Thank you.
Shut up.
I leave the robot hotel
and travel to my next destination.
Jukai forest nestles on
the northwestern slopes of Mount Fuji.
It's a stunningly beautiful
and primeval place,
but the forest is also famous
for a darker reason.
It's the world's most popular place
to commit suicide.
Authorities find
over 100 bodies here a year.
And while most people come here
for the postcard scenics and serenity,
an increasing number of dark tourists
are drawn here by the body count.
I want to see
what's so special about the forest
and why tourists are drawn
to such a morbid place.
I needed someone to show me around,
so I called again on the unflappable Yo.
What I hear from the statistics
is that Japan has one of the highest
suicide rates in industrialised nations.
Why do you think that is?
I guess it's a lot of social pressure,
the obligations, and things like that.
Honor, maybe.
We've been thinking about people
drawn to places
because they are a bit darker
that's why we're interested.
Jukai was made famous for that...
because of a novel.
Yo says Jukai became
a popular suicide spot
because of the popularity of a book
from the 1960s, The Black Sea of Trees,
a sort of Japanese Romeo and Juliet,
and we all know how that ended.
Immediately, I spot a lone car
in a corner of a car park.
According to Yo, it's been sitting here,
abandoned, for weeks.
Already my mind is jumping
to conclusions.
So one car in the car park.
This could be someone
who's wandered in and hasn't come back.
Could be.
- And nothing to prove that.
- No. Just don't know.
It's surreal, though,
the idea of something being left here.
Yeah. Maybe he decided to leave...
somewhere else.
Maybe he's living happily
at someplace else.
Yo is keen to play down
the forest's association with suicide,
but the signs suggest otherwise.
"Your life is something
you received from your parents.
Think again. Think about your parents,
your brothers. Think about your children.
And don't take your problems
all to yourself."
I soon spot
some fellow dark travelers
loitering in the car park.
Are these pale foreigners here
for the same reason I am?
We're here just looking into the whole
idea of this being a suicide forest.
- Is that why you came?
- Yeah.
Right. What had you heard about it?
We heard on videos and YouTube
and whatnot
that it's a place where a lot of people
come and contemplate suicide.
An interesting place
to come and check out.
What was the motivation?
That's why I came as well.
I can't actually decide if I'm here
because I want to see like... a body
or I'm just curious about the area.
I mean, what motivated you?
I like the atmosphere.
It's a really sort of creepy,
almost isolated vibe.
Then if we look into the forest,
you can see the ropes
that people drag in with them.
We didn't actually see any bodies.
- This is my first time out of Ontario.
- Seriously?
So first time out of Ontario,
straight to suicide forest.
Yeah! Pretty much, yeah.
No kidding. It sounds bad
when you say it that way.
- It does, doesn't it?
- Yeah!
I want to go for a walk
in the forest,
but Yo has an unusual briefing.
So there are a couple of things
you need to know or you should know.
There may be something...
other than us lurking around,
looking at us right now.
But it... can be seen
only with higher perception.
If you feel or see something,
don't freak out.
Okay? They're just curious.
Strangely,
Yo seems more worried
about the spirits I might encounter
than he did about the radiation.
At least I could measure the radiation.
This is truly a beautiful place,
but it's deadly silent and empty.
The forest is also incredibly dense.
Stray off the path
and you could easily get lost in here.
I'm nervous
about what I might stumble across.
I've arranged to meet Jake,
an American expat who runs a nearby cafe.
He says he found a corpse here
just last year.
It was a little pile of bones
and a skirt, like a Japanese schoolgirl.
The blue uniform.
It had been there a while.
And my dog sensed something was up.
I don't know how she knew,
but I just followed her out.
Really lucky you had the dog.
Yeah, you wouldn't want to get stuck
in here at night.
'Cause that's the other danger here.
People come in here to explore...
because they've heard about it
and then they end up...
Yeah. When you see a body out here,
you've got to wonder if it was somebody
who'd meant to kill themselves
or changed their mind
and didn't make it out.
Jake believes he can find
some evidence of what goes on here,
but then things take a funny turn.
You don't feel that?
You don't feel a little winded?
When you run
and you're just a little low on oxygen,
your vision's just a little bit dark.
- It's a bit of a spacey feeling almost.
- Yeah, it's that, but I've had it,
at times when it's...
really it's like tunnel vision.
And... you can't quite focus on anything.
I don't feel dizzy,
I don't have tunnel vision, like you have.
That hit you pretty much immediately
when you got in here.
It's really subtle.
It's not quite tunnel vision, but it's...
I think it's the magnetism.
You know?
But it's just enough.
That's what's dangerous about it.
It's just enough that it's there,
but you don't really notice it.
That's how most people get
in trouble in the forest. There is a...
You think you're okay.
- But you're not.
- Yeah.
I don't know what to think.
Everyone seems to be telling me
about invisible forces and spirits.
I'm starting to feel
like I'm missing something important.
Look at this.
And then Jake spots
what we've been searching for.
- There's something on that tree.
- That's not good.
He says it's the remains
of a makeshift noose.
Looking at the rope,
I'm glad it's all I've found.
In and out
without seeing any bodies,
that's a good thing.
I wonder
what would drive someone
to end their life in this beautiful place?
Yo suggests I meet his friend Noriko.
She came here 30 years ago
intending to kill herself
after a fight with her boyfriend.
She wanted to take her life
in an isolated part of the forest
by a small cave,
hoping her boyfriend would feel sorry
when he saw the body.
But as I started walking in,
I had another voice telling me to stop.
A man was standing over there.
Then I realized
that he wasn't human.
So I ran away.
Noriko says she saw a ghost
who warned her not to take her life.
She insists I go through a ritual
to ward off any bad spirits
or Yurei as they're called here,
that might still be lurking.
I don't know that I believe in any of it,
but I agree to go along anyway.
You've got to pinch the salt
using three fingers.
- No.
- Eat it first.
Take a swig, all the way.
Don't let your hand drop.
Drink.
Okay.
I'm keen to go further
into the forest,
but Noriko starts acting strange.
We can turn around if you want to.
We can turn around if you need to.
Is she okay? Just tired?
Tired, no.
Where are you sore? In here?
Noriko says the invisible?Yurei
are attacking her.
I feel awkward
and don't quite know what to do.
Thank you.
- No good?
- No, thank you.
Good. Thank you.
- Was it the energy down there?
- Something's happening down there
that's affecting her this way.
And those are things
that we wouldn't feel, but you do?
They are here. They are here.
Even if I drink the salt,
they still come for me.
How should I describe it?
It is as if they are trying to take me.
Am I safe being here? I've had the salt,
but am I okay being here?
Yes, no problem. Everyone is fine.
Everyone except me.
That's the Jukai.
I don't believe in ghosts,
but everyone here seems to genuinely
feel their presence.
I'm not going to argue.
If Noriko's beliefs stopped her
from taking her own life,
then that's a good thing.
And after seeing the forest for myself,
and meeting Noriko,
I've decided there's nothing romantic
about looking for dead bodies
or the idea of suicide.
I don't think Jukai is haunted or cursed,
but the forest certainly does
live up to its reputation
as a strange and eerie place to visit.
I travel a thousand kilometers west.
My final destination is a short boat ride
off the coast of Nagasaki.
It's the ultimate ghost town.
Oh, wow.
You can see the whole structure
going down to the water.
It's unreal.
Abandoned places
are like magnets for dark tourists,
especially if they are as haunting
and spectacular as Hashima Island.
Hashima is also called Battleship Island
because of its distinctive shape.
Sixty years ago, this was the most
densely-populated place on the planet.
Five and a half thousand people
lived here,
crammed into an area
the size of a few football fields.
Now it's completely empty.
I want to know what happened.
I arranged to meet two former residents
to find out.
Hi, nice to meet you.
- Hi.
- Nice to meet you.
Ishikawa-san and Kenoshita-san
lived here in its heyday.
They offer me special access
to the crumbling buildings on the island.
So do you know exactly
where we're going?
We're going up
to the ninth floor now.
All right. A lot of walking!
Well, I'm game if you are.
There were no elevators in this place.
I wonder what it was like walking up
and down nine floors several times a day.
And the ceilings are very low.
Watch your head there.
- All right.
- So wet.
It looks like everyone left in a hurry.
There's stuff everywhere.
It's a real mess.
This is my room, my house.
Where are we standing now?
It's so small.
How many of you lived in here?
My family and I, the six of us lived here.
It was very crowded.
We used to sleep in the closet,
right here.
Was it a place
that people wanted to live?
Out here? Was it somewhere
quite exciting to be?
For us,
this is where we were born.
It was the norm for us
and I didn't know anywhere else.
In fact, Hashima was the first
of its kind.
Japan's first concrete apartment complex.
And it offered a better standard of living
compared to the rest of the country.
There were shops, sports facilities,
a public swimming pool and a school.
Hashima is here because there's
a coal mine underneath the island.
They built the town right on top.
The men say the mine became uneconomic
in the late 1970s
and everyone left in the space of a week.
This is where we played a lot.
They take me
to the highest point on the island,
to a Shinto temple they used to visit.
Ah!
Fifty years.
I haven't been up to this temple
for 50 years.
Very nostalgic.
I thought it would be larger.
It's inspiring up here
and I feel moved to join in.
There's nothing here!
This brings back memories.
What is the clap?
It's two bows, two claps,
and then... another bow.
- Okay, so two bows...
- Two.
- ...two claps and then another bow.
- Okay.
This is amazing.
You can see the whole place from up here.
It's incredible.
This island is absolutely epic.
It's haunting to be in a place
that was once home to so many,
but is now completely desolate.
All that remains are memories
and ghosts of the past.
On this trip,
I've flirted with radiation,
desolation and death.
I've been forced out of my comfort zone
and had my beliefs challenged.
And somehow it's made me feel
even more happy to be alive.
Maybe that's the whole point
of dark tourism.
I'm a journalist from New Zealand,
and I'm investigating dark tourist
hotspots around the world.
This time, I'm traveling in Japan.
Dark tourism can be hazardous,
so what better way to start my trip
than a disaster training course?
The quake starts
Quite intense.
But I'm not really sure this is going to
prepare me for what's to come.
As I visit
the world's most popular suicide spot...
- There's something on that tree.
- That's not good.
...I step into a bizarre future
run entirely by robots...
Please enjoy your stay in Henn na Hotel.
...explore a ten-story ghost island...
This is amazing.
...and I indulge in
a spot of nuclear tourism.
- So what are you seeing here?
- Oh, my God.
The level of radiation is higher
than around Chernobyl,
where no one is allowed to go.
Life can be dangerous
when you're a dark tourist.
I start my trip at the center
of one of Japan's worst disasters.
The atomic meltdown
in the province of Fukushima.
Nuclear tourism. Who would
have thought it would be a thing?
Most normal people wouldn't go near
a radioactive nuclear site,
but it sounds perfect for a dark tourist
and I'm in a bus full of them.
In 2011,
this province was devastated
by a massive earthquake
and then a tsunami,
which caused an explosion and radiation
leak at the Daiichi nuclear power station.
Over 20,000 people were killed.
Much more of the province was evacuated
because of the radiation.
Until now,
this has been a restricted area,
but the government says
it's now okay for residents to return.
I had to come and see for myself
what a nuclear disaster looks like.
Is it even safe to be here?
Well, ladies and gentlemen,
I am your tourist guide.
Our guide for the day is Yo.
So I have to be careful
with my right and left
because to you it's switched.
So I have to say, "On your right,"
and, "On your left."
It seems like just another walk
in the radioactive park for Yo.
He certainly doesn't seem concerned
about any danger.
What are the levels
you'd be concerned about, Yo?
So for living in the area...
...0.20 worries me.
Okay.
It's funny. It's very hard.
Because you're such a happy person,
it's very hard to know, for me and for us,
how dangerous it is.
I'm not growing extra horns
or extra fingers.
My fellow dark tourists include
a group of equally fascinated foreigners.
I heard that vitamin D helps offset
the effects of radiation.
Keeping yourself safe any way you can.
Yeah.
Our first stop on the disaster
tour is the town of Tomioka.
The tsunami didn't get this far,
but the town did get hit by the 'quake
and then the radioactive cloud.
Okay, let's get off the bus.
This is one of the towns
the government says is safe,
but the residents don't seem keen
on returning.
In fact, it's still completely abandoned.
- There's not a lot of people here.
- Yeah.
Pretty quiet.
I'm surprised
that thieves haven't looted the place.
Maybe they know something we don't.
Oh, my God!
- 0.7.
- We're going up. 0.72.
We've all brought our own Geiger counters,
the equivalent of metal detectors
for radiation.
Suddenly, they all start pinging off.
The radiation here is way higher
than anything I was warned about
and immediately
the nuclear tourists are concerned.
You told us before
that the level of radiation
at which you'd start being worried
is 0.2.
My Geiger meter is showing 0.75.
That's higher than around Chernobyl,
where no one is allowed to go.
How do you tell people that it's okay
to come here when it's such a high level?
Because they had declared
state of emergency,
that means they can raise
the maximum amount of radiation allowed.
And they want to make the appearance
of being safe here.
But it's not.
- You can find it yourself.
- But...
- In how many years?
- In how many years, yeah.
It will probably take more than 200 years
to bring everything back to normal,
so to say.
- 200?
- 200.
Suddenly,
nuclear tourism doesn't seem like
such a great idea.
It's a little unsettling when this thing
starts beeping more and more,
especially when you're seeing stores
with broken shop fronts and everything.
And some little kids' bikes inside.
It's pretty eerie.
I can see why it's hard
to get people to move back, you know?
And it gets better.
Yo tells us
the dust is particularly radioactive.
He warns breathing it in
could give us cancer.
I'm not sure this is the kind of thrill
these dark tourists were hoping for.
I notice you've got your mask on now.
Well, it's so dusty in here.
You're making me think
I should put one on as well.
- I sort of forgot we had them.
- Well, they are available, so...
- You have to open it.
- I've got to open it up?
Oh, I see. Never had to put one on before.
It's just really dusty in here. I figured
it was a good time to put it on.
But, as you can see,
it fogs up my glasses,
so now I can't see anything.
Got a real fog problem.
We head out of Tomioka
along Route Six,
into the heart of the nuclear disaster.
We are passing through areas
which still remain part
of the feared radioactive exclusion zone,
though, in a cunning act of rebranding,
the government now prefers to call it
the "difficult to return to" zone.
- This is a gate street.
- Gates on every entrance.
Look at those gates.
There are barriers blocking entrances
to any possible way into the no go zone.
This is now looking
more like a military zone
and the bus isn't even allowed
to stop here.
But Yo is prepared to try and get us in.
This is a "difficult to return to" zone.
Go back to the bus.
This area is closed, except for vehicles.
You need to leave quickly.
What's the problem?
This is the area that's designated
as the "no returning" area.
So we're not supposed to park
around here and let the people out.
- Okay.
- Only passing through.
How long have you worked here for?
- Five years.
- Five years?
You enjoy your job?
Hurry up and leave already.
Okay.
If job satisfaction comes
from getting rid of people like us,
he should be a happy man.
But I still want to look
inside the forbidden zone,
so I convince Yo to let me out
on the side of the road for a sneaky peek.
No more than five minutes
if possible.
Get ready.
- Okay, go.
- Go, David.
Go, David.
Now.
The amusement arcade
has been left untouched since the 'quake.
It's pretty eerie...
just seeing these toys just lying down,
just kind of done.
Let's try upstairs.
Let's try looking through...
Wow!
This is totally wrecked.
There's a lot of dust in here,
which is unsettling.
Unsettling is an understatement.
The objects and dust in here
are especially radioactive
as rain and wind can't get in
to wash any radioactive particles away.
We've already been warned once,
so I don't particularly want them
to see us in here.
Watch the glass, guys.
But we've pushed our luck too far.
We don't speak Japanese.
- Passport? ID?
- In the bus.
We're sprung.
But Yo comes to our rescue
and tries to smooth things over.
- So what is going on here, sir?
- You are not allowed...
- I understand we can't stop here.
- Yes, you got it, sir.
After what seems
like an eternity, and a stern warning,
we are sent on our way,
but Yo's not happy with my excursion.
Is there a risk
of getting arrested, do you think?
Just now? We were lucky.
I say.
Okay.
- All right. Thanks, Yo.
- Sure.
I'm beginning to feel bad
that Yo had to bail us out.
To be honest, this tour is
more stressful than I thought it would be.
Lunch comes as a welcome break.
We stop in Namie
at a cafe called Grandma's,
which is run, unsurprisingly, by grandmas.
- Konnichiwa.
- Arigato.
It's part of the government
initiative to lure people back into town.
But when I find out that none
of the grandmas live here,
something doesn't sit right.
Who's eating?
Do we all want to eat?
- What is the food, though? Where is...
- How safe is it?
I love Japanese food,
but like the others,
I'm nervous about eating anything
that comes from around here.
- Have you eaten here before, Yo?
- No.
- First time.
- First time.
- Yo?
- Yes?
Is all this food from this area?
So it's all grown locally?
- I have no idea, actually.
- No idea?
- It's difficult to know about everything?
- Well, I'm not going to worry about it.
But we're starving and we give in.
It may be radioactive but it's delicious.
Yo, do you ever worry about anything?
It seems like you don't worry, ever.
We have to live in this country.
I have to live here day to day.
And worrying about it too much is
really not good for your mental health.
- Hm.
- Yeap.
Life is full of dangers.
That's the thing, right?
- You might get hit by a bus tomorrow.
- That's right.
Ah!
Ugh!
The government have even hired
street performers
to attract people back to the area
and I'm quickly roped in to help.
I have no idea what's going on.
Wow!
See? There's nothing to worry about here.
How can you worry when this is going on?
Does it suit me?
Boink!
After lunch, we hit the coast,
to where the giant tsunami wave
first came ashore.
This was once a landscape of little towns,
full of people,
but all that has been wiped away
and is now a wasteland.
So where are we now, Yo?
What's the situation here?
This is the tsunami-inundated area.
So this is where the tsunami swept across?
Tsunami stripped the whole town.
When the tsunami
overcame the sea wall,
it was 15 meters high.
And about 260 people...
died in this area.
I can't comprehend
what a 15-meter wall of water looks like
or where I'd run to.
The people here would have had no chance.
This is all that's left
of homes, shops, lives.
Just reduced to rubble and ruin.
It's pretty surreal
seeing just personal items
all just dumped, essentially, to rot.
It does bring it all home.
The only objects heavy enough
to stand their ground were gravestones,
mute testament to all the people
who lived and died here.
I find the place profoundly sad.
But not everyone has the same reaction.
Okay, not even...
The radio reactor just exploded.
- Your face should explode, too.
- I don't know what that means.
Be masculine!
- You got good photos in there?
- We have good selfie, I think.
I could have pulled my second look,
but it's fine.
- I can live without it.
- Paris Fashion Week.
We can laugh a little bit,
but I think it's pretty serious.
- Do you?
- Yeah. No, I completely agree.
It's a thing you kind of laugh
to cover up your nerves sometimes.
Yeah.
Earthquake, tsunami
and then, finally, radiation.
A nuclear disaster is
the unwanted gift that keeps on giving.
And here lies the motherlode.
Under the green tarp, there's piles
of those flexible container bags.
They contain
the low-level radioactive soil
or the plants.
The government scraped off
the radioactive topsoil
and stored it, "temporarily".
These dirt dumps are
all over the province.
It seems unbelievable that there are
more than nine million bags of this stuff
just lying around.
I just wonder what the hell
they are going to do with it all.
So how long
can this concoction survive?
- Two to three years.
- Yeah.
As you can see, some black bags
are kind of deteriorating.
So they're probably covering it
to hide the fact that it's deteriorating.
That was probably so.
They were designed
to last three years,
but that was six years ago.
Their order and precision is beautiful
and, dare I say it, a nice Instagram post,
but that doesn't change the fact
that the radioactive soil is still here.
I wouldn't want my adult children,
who haven't had their families yet,
to come here. My daughters.
'Cause there is that thing
about what sex you are.
I feel like there's probably more danger
for females to come in than males.
Right.
As we drive,
the scale of this shit-show
starts to dawn on me.
Town after town is like this.
Wrecked...
radioactive...
abandoned.
This point, this is designated as
"difficult to return to" zone.
That means you need to have
a special permit to go through this area.
No one's really listening now.
Instead, everyone is focused
on their Geiger counters.
So what are you seeing here?
I'm going up to 1.43 now.
1,55.
- 1.89.
- What the hell! That's a lot.
Yeah. It's going up.
Yeah, I'm not sure if it is
higher than Chernobyl. Is it?
Basically, I looked at Safecast
and it has the whole area's map.
And it was saying
the highest we'd get here is about 0.4.
But this is four times the amount of that.
So I'm actually very, very uncomfortable
with the situation.
And I'm not sure this is safe.
I'm starting to worry as well.
Is everyone happy to keep... going?
If that was honestly the highest
it was going to be, then I'm fine,
but, you know, I take this stuff
really seriously as well.
The truth is,
Anya's just said aloud
what's going through everyone's minds.
We're all paranoid about the radiation,
especially as Yo told us
anything over 0.2 was unsafe.
Here we go.
1.9.
- 2.3.
- 2.8.
The levels keep rising.
Everyone is seriously on edge.
No one was expecting
readings this high,
not even our own crew.
So what we just experienced
wasn't even the highest?
No.
- So that wasn't a hotspot?
- No. You know that.
I'll stay on the bus!
Even the bus doesn't feel
like a shield any more,
and the levels continue to get higher.
- Oh, my God. 1.87.
- Oh, my God!
- 3.75.
- Oh, my God.
- 7.19.
- Oh, my God.
The readings are fifty times
over the 0.2 threshold.
I don't want to stay another minute here,
and I'm not alone.
- I have 9.71 now.
- Scare point.
- All right.
- We are scared.
- We have officially been scared.
- Yeah.
- Let's go.
- Let's do that.
- All in favor?
- Okay, who wants to go?
- I'd like to go.
- Okay, let's go.
The driver just turned off the engine!
It's just not the place to break down.
By unanimous decision, this tour is over.
They say it's safe to return to Fukushima,
and good luck to anyone that does,
but this place is still
way too radioactive for my liking.
It's been a real buzz
seeing a nuclear wasteland first hand,
and I can see
why dark tourists get a thrill out of it,
but one tour is enough for me.
I want to get as far away
from the disaster zone as possible.
My hotel isn't known
for its comfy beds or creature comforts,
but follows the post-apocalyptic theme
by offering a glimpse
into a strange, alternate future,
a future run entirely by robots.
It's probably at the odd end
of the dark tourist spectrum.
Hello.
Please hold up your passport
to the reader
or touch "no passport"
if you don't have one.
As a card-carrying member
of the Jurassic Park fan club,
being served by a velociraptor
is pretty damn cool.
Please enjoy your stay in Henn na Hotel.
Thank you.
The hotel promises me
a highlight of my stay
will be my own personal robot.
Relax and make yourself at home.
Hello.
Oh. Hi, there. How do you do?
Really good.
Can you sing a song?
Just...
What time are you going to wake up?
Seven a.m.
But back to the original question,
can you sing a song?
Yes. May I help you?
Yes. Can you sing a song?
Tomorrow's set an alarm clock
at eight-thirty.
Things get even more bizarre
when I realize
my robot hotel is set smack in the middle
of a replica 17th-century Dutch town.
Yes, still in Japan.
It's definitely weird, and kind of fun,
but why is everyone wearing a mask?
It's a wonderfully twisted time warp.
21st-century virtual reality
on a 17th-century carousel.
I'm not sure if I'm meant to be
in the past or the future
or perhaps just a parallel universe?
Turn the lights off.
Is that a question or a statement?
May I help you?
Thank you.
Shut up.
I leave the robot hotel
and travel to my next destination.
Jukai forest nestles on
the northwestern slopes of Mount Fuji.
It's a stunningly beautiful
and primeval place,
but the forest is also famous
for a darker reason.
It's the world's most popular place
to commit suicide.
Authorities find
over 100 bodies here a year.
And while most people come here
for the postcard scenics and serenity,
an increasing number of dark tourists
are drawn here by the body count.
I want to see
what's so special about the forest
and why tourists are drawn
to such a morbid place.
I needed someone to show me around,
so I called again on the unflappable Yo.
What I hear from the statistics
is that Japan has one of the highest
suicide rates in industrialised nations.
Why do you think that is?
I guess it's a lot of social pressure,
the obligations, and things like that.
Honor, maybe.
We've been thinking about people
drawn to places
because they are a bit darker
that's why we're interested.
Jukai was made famous for that...
because of a novel.
Yo says Jukai became
a popular suicide spot
because of the popularity of a book
from the 1960s, The Black Sea of Trees,
a sort of Japanese Romeo and Juliet,
and we all know how that ended.
Immediately, I spot a lone car
in a corner of a car park.
According to Yo, it's been sitting here,
abandoned, for weeks.
Already my mind is jumping
to conclusions.
So one car in the car park.
This could be someone
who's wandered in and hasn't come back.
Could be.
- And nothing to prove that.
- No. Just don't know.
It's surreal, though,
the idea of something being left here.
Yeah. Maybe he decided to leave...
somewhere else.
Maybe he's living happily
at someplace else.
Yo is keen to play down
the forest's association with suicide,
but the signs suggest otherwise.
"Your life is something
you received from your parents.
Think again. Think about your parents,
your brothers. Think about your children.
And don't take your problems
all to yourself."
I soon spot
some fellow dark travelers
loitering in the car park.
Are these pale foreigners here
for the same reason I am?
We're here just looking into the whole
idea of this being a suicide forest.
- Is that why you came?
- Yeah.
Right. What had you heard about it?
We heard on videos and YouTube
and whatnot
that it's a place where a lot of people
come and contemplate suicide.
An interesting place
to come and check out.
What was the motivation?
That's why I came as well.
I can't actually decide if I'm here
because I want to see like... a body
or I'm just curious about the area.
I mean, what motivated you?
I like the atmosphere.
It's a really sort of creepy,
almost isolated vibe.
Then if we look into the forest,
you can see the ropes
that people drag in with them.
We didn't actually see any bodies.
- This is my first time out of Ontario.
- Seriously?
So first time out of Ontario,
straight to suicide forest.
Yeah! Pretty much, yeah.
No kidding. It sounds bad
when you say it that way.
- It does, doesn't it?
- Yeah!
I want to go for a walk
in the forest,
but Yo has an unusual briefing.
So there are a couple of things
you need to know or you should know.
There may be something...
other than us lurking around,
looking at us right now.
But it... can be seen
only with higher perception.
If you feel or see something,
don't freak out.
Okay? They're just curious.
Strangely,
Yo seems more worried
about the spirits I might encounter
than he did about the radiation.
At least I could measure the radiation.
This is truly a beautiful place,
but it's deadly silent and empty.
The forest is also incredibly dense.
Stray off the path
and you could easily get lost in here.
I'm nervous
about what I might stumble across.
I've arranged to meet Jake,
an American expat who runs a nearby cafe.
He says he found a corpse here
just last year.
It was a little pile of bones
and a skirt, like a Japanese schoolgirl.
The blue uniform.
It had been there a while.
And my dog sensed something was up.
I don't know how she knew,
but I just followed her out.
Really lucky you had the dog.
Yeah, you wouldn't want to get stuck
in here at night.
'Cause that's the other danger here.
People come in here to explore...
because they've heard about it
and then they end up...
Yeah. When you see a body out here,
you've got to wonder if it was somebody
who'd meant to kill themselves
or changed their mind
and didn't make it out.
Jake believes he can find
some evidence of what goes on here,
but then things take a funny turn.
You don't feel that?
You don't feel a little winded?
When you run
and you're just a little low on oxygen,
your vision's just a little bit dark.
- It's a bit of a spacey feeling almost.
- Yeah, it's that, but I've had it,
at times when it's...
really it's like tunnel vision.
And... you can't quite focus on anything.
I don't feel dizzy,
I don't have tunnel vision, like you have.
That hit you pretty much immediately
when you got in here.
It's really subtle.
It's not quite tunnel vision, but it's...
I think it's the magnetism.
You know?
But it's just enough.
That's what's dangerous about it.
It's just enough that it's there,
but you don't really notice it.
That's how most people get
in trouble in the forest. There is a...
You think you're okay.
- But you're not.
- Yeah.
I don't know what to think.
Everyone seems to be telling me
about invisible forces and spirits.
I'm starting to feel
like I'm missing something important.
Look at this.
And then Jake spots
what we've been searching for.
- There's something on that tree.
- That's not good.
He says it's the remains
of a makeshift noose.
Looking at the rope,
I'm glad it's all I've found.
In and out
without seeing any bodies,
that's a good thing.
I wonder
what would drive someone
to end their life in this beautiful place?
Yo suggests I meet his friend Noriko.
She came here 30 years ago
intending to kill herself
after a fight with her boyfriend.
She wanted to take her life
in an isolated part of the forest
by a small cave,
hoping her boyfriend would feel sorry
when he saw the body.
But as I started walking in,
I had another voice telling me to stop.
A man was standing over there.
Then I realized
that he wasn't human.
So I ran away.
Noriko says she saw a ghost
who warned her not to take her life.
She insists I go through a ritual
to ward off any bad spirits
or Yurei as they're called here,
that might still be lurking.
I don't know that I believe in any of it,
but I agree to go along anyway.
You've got to pinch the salt
using three fingers.
- No.
- Eat it first.
Take a swig, all the way.
Don't let your hand drop.
Drink.
Okay.
I'm keen to go further
into the forest,
but Noriko starts acting strange.
We can turn around if you want to.
We can turn around if you need to.
Is she okay? Just tired?
Tired, no.
Where are you sore? In here?
Noriko says the invisible?Yurei
are attacking her.
I feel awkward
and don't quite know what to do.
Thank you.
- No good?
- No, thank you.
Good. Thank you.
- Was it the energy down there?
- Something's happening down there
that's affecting her this way.
And those are things
that we wouldn't feel, but you do?
They are here. They are here.
Even if I drink the salt,
they still come for me.
How should I describe it?
It is as if they are trying to take me.
Am I safe being here? I've had the salt,
but am I okay being here?
Yes, no problem. Everyone is fine.
Everyone except me.
That's the Jukai.
I don't believe in ghosts,
but everyone here seems to genuinely
feel their presence.
I'm not going to argue.
If Noriko's beliefs stopped her
from taking her own life,
then that's a good thing.
And after seeing the forest for myself,
and meeting Noriko,
I've decided there's nothing romantic
about looking for dead bodies
or the idea of suicide.
I don't think Jukai is haunted or cursed,
but the forest certainly does
live up to its reputation
as a strange and eerie place to visit.
I travel a thousand kilometers west.
My final destination is a short boat ride
off the coast of Nagasaki.
It's the ultimate ghost town.
Oh, wow.
You can see the whole structure
going down to the water.
It's unreal.
Abandoned places
are like magnets for dark tourists,
especially if they are as haunting
and spectacular as Hashima Island.
Hashima is also called Battleship Island
because of its distinctive shape.
Sixty years ago, this was the most
densely-populated place on the planet.
Five and a half thousand people
lived here,
crammed into an area
the size of a few football fields.
Now it's completely empty.
I want to know what happened.
I arranged to meet two former residents
to find out.
Hi, nice to meet you.
- Hi.
- Nice to meet you.
Ishikawa-san and Kenoshita-san
lived here in its heyday.
They offer me special access
to the crumbling buildings on the island.
So do you know exactly
where we're going?
We're going up
to the ninth floor now.
All right. A lot of walking!
Well, I'm game if you are.
There were no elevators in this place.
I wonder what it was like walking up
and down nine floors several times a day.
And the ceilings are very low.
Watch your head there.
- All right.
- So wet.
It looks like everyone left in a hurry.
There's stuff everywhere.
It's a real mess.
This is my room, my house.
Where are we standing now?
It's so small.
How many of you lived in here?
My family and I, the six of us lived here.
It was very crowded.
We used to sleep in the closet,
right here.
Was it a place
that people wanted to live?
Out here? Was it somewhere
quite exciting to be?
For us,
this is where we were born.
It was the norm for us
and I didn't know anywhere else.
In fact, Hashima was the first
of its kind.
Japan's first concrete apartment complex.
And it offered a better standard of living
compared to the rest of the country.
There were shops, sports facilities,
a public swimming pool and a school.
Hashima is here because there's
a coal mine underneath the island.
They built the town right on top.
The men say the mine became uneconomic
in the late 1970s
and everyone left in the space of a week.
This is where we played a lot.
They take me
to the highest point on the island,
to a Shinto temple they used to visit.
Ah!
Fifty years.
I haven't been up to this temple
for 50 years.
Very nostalgic.
I thought it would be larger.
It's inspiring up here
and I feel moved to join in.
There's nothing here!
This brings back memories.
What is the clap?
It's two bows, two claps,
and then... another bow.
- Okay, so two bows...
- Two.
- ...two claps and then another bow.
- Okay.
This is amazing.
You can see the whole place from up here.
It's incredible.
This island is absolutely epic.
It's haunting to be in a place
that was once home to so many,
but is now completely desolate.
All that remains are memories
and ghosts of the past.
On this trip,
I've flirted with radiation,
desolation and death.
I've been forced out of my comfort zone
and had my beliefs challenged.
And somehow it's made me feel
even more happy to be alive.
Maybe that's the whole point
of dark tourism.