A Night at the PA

A month or so back, I headed out in the evening with a few friends to a unique attraction outside of Tokyo. That would be the Daikoku-futo Parking Area. For the first part, unlike the American freeway system, the Japanese highways are closed off – fewer exits, and tolls throughout, so the Parking Areas that do exist are for bathroom breaks, getting food and drinks, and taking a load off.

So what makes this one special? As has been mentioned countless times on automotive blogs, Daikoku PA acts as an excellent meet-up place in the Tokyo area. Coming back or heading out to a day at Fuji Speedway? Daikoku’s on the way. Want to go cruising around the Tokyo highways late at night? Daikoku is right there. There are many stories about this spot that can be told, but whether organized by a group or just as a place to see who shows up on a wet Friday night, Daikoku is the place to be.

And so it turned out to be that, on this wet Friday night, a veritable show turned up. Most of the cars were tuned, some in search of better performance, others for show. Groups of friends meeting up, groups of Americans and tourists showing up to see what’s up with this famous spot.

That even brought out some real characters. Parked near the front were a group of minivans, fairly normal looking until you realized most of the rear-end behind the front seats were taken up by speakers. Once they got the party started, the sound system pumped out the sort of bass you feel in your chest. Figuring out what to do when a dance party breaks out in a parking lot is always strange, so fortunately we had the local law enforcement come over and warn the owners of “noise complaints” before things went too long.

Not happy being one-upped in the noise-making category, a couple of classic bosozoku – the devil-may-care tuned cars straight out of the late 1970s/early 1980s – revved their way out of the parking area for all to hear.

But mostly it’s a place to meet, to see and to be seen. An oasis of automotive culture, in the middle of sleeping truckers and other passers-by. It’s always heartening to see the culture still alive and kicking, even if it was on a damp spring night.