Early Risers Are Hooked on Tokyo Fish Market : Japan: Although you have to get up early to beat the high cost of dining in the world’s most expensive city, the central wholesale Tsukiji market is worth the effort.

According to almost every survey, Tokyo is the most costly city in the world for travelers.

The price of a day and night’s stay in Japan’s largest city averages a staggering $346, making Tokyo the world’s most expensive major business center.

But it doesn’t have to be. One suggestion: On your first or second day in the city, get up early--very early--and head for the Tsukiji market, the city’s central wholesale fish market.

It’s a sure-fire cure for jet lag. You’ll probably be up at 3 a.m. on your first day after arriving anyway, so why not go to the market, which opens at 4 a.m.?

Officially, the general public isn’t allowed in the 56-acre market. But as of this writing, no one has ever been asked to leave. Just be sure to wear jeans, sneakers and a jacket. Even in summer, the market can get quite cold at that time of the morning.

Tsukiji is the world’s busiest fish market. Each day more than 70,000 people pass through it. But don’t let the numbers frighten you; despite its size, the market is very well organized.

Virtually every conceivable kind of fish--caught locally or flown in from around the world--is on display: Coho salmon from Alaska, bluefin tuna from the eastern United States, yellowtail, flying squid and eel from Japan, plus dozens of varieties of shellfish.

Things move quickly inside the market. The floors are wet, the action wild. Large fish are wheeled in on neko handcarts. Neko means cat, and, indeed, the handcart pullers maneuver their cargo with style, speed and precision.

Crated and frozen fish are moved in by high-speed fork-lift trucks, driven by men who would have no trouble finding employment as Hollywood stuntmen.

These small trucks appear out of nowhere, dart around corners, and stop and spin into small alleyways created by rows of fish resting on crates of chopped ice.

Perhaps the most amazing aspect of the fish market experience is the smell. Surprisingly, there’s no strong fish aroma.

Fish hauled in by truck and ship are displayed by category in assigned places throughout the market. They are delivered to the market beginning in the late afternoon, until early the following morning.

By 3 a.m., the “middlemen” start arriving to begin inspecting the displays of their favorite wholesalers. By 4:30 there are nearly 1,400 middlemen anxiously awaiting the shitami (trade show).

Men with large stainless-steel tongs move effortlessly through the crowds, negotiating huge blocks of ice. Others lift the giant fish and place them on the ground.

Every 50 feet, another batch of large tuna are brought in by wooden carts and quickly unloaded. Each fish is placed about two feet apart on the hosed-down concrete and is identified by a red number and letter telling its weight and the company selling it.

Each buyer carries a small flashlight in the dimly lit auction areas. But the flashlights aren’t used for navigating the dark and slippery walkways. Instead, they are used for close inspection of the fish.

Each fish is marked with a number and a cut near its tail. A small, six-inch incision has been made, allowing a prospective buyer to lift up a small flap of the tuna’s skin, shine his flashlight on the exposed area and inspect the flesh.

The men check the body temperature of the fish (37 to 39 degrees is ideal), as well as its for color and fat content, making brief notes in small, tattered books that they will then refer to once the auction starts.

Some bidders buy entire lots of fish. But most have come to the market to make a bid on just one fish--and that one fish can be outrageously expensive. For example, one bluefin tuna, the most coveted of the 13 species of tuna, can sell for $5,000 or more at the Tsukiji market. Sushi restaurants typically pay as much as $100 a pound for it.

The auction is not by any means a frenzied affair; it’s all done quietly. Each bidder wears a hat with a yellow sign displaying his name or the name of his company. The bidding signal is made by hand, and the amount of the bid by finger signals ( teyari ) by the buyers.

There’s no pushing or jostling. Bidders politely invite you to stand near them while they watch the prices soar. Later they will proudly show you their purchases.

Don’t worry. Inadvertently raising your hand won’t signal the auctioneer that you want in on the action. The relationship between seller and buyer is a close one. They all know each other. You’ll be happy to know that if they nod at you, it’s only to acknowledge your presence. At this writing, no unwitting tourist has yet bought a $5,000 tuna.

You might start to see some small groups of foreign tourists at about 6 a.m. Some tour operators--like Gray Line--do run organized trips to the market, which can be arranged through your hotel concierge.

For my money, the best way to see the market is on your own. The biggest advantage of the Gray Line tour is that they lend you waterproof boots.

The best part of the fish market experience occurs after the auction is completed. Just a few hundred feet from the entrance to the market stand a small row of tiny sushi bars. They open at 5 a.m., mostly for the auctioneers and middlemen, but they will gladly serve tourists.

As strange as this may sound, nothing tastes better--or fresher--than a bowl of miso soup, pickled vegetables and sushi at 6 in the morning.