Category: Japan 2015

Even if you don’t know it, you probably know Miyajima. The tori gate floating in the sea is probably one of the most recognized representations of Japan – after Mt. Fuji and Hokusai’s ‘The Wave’

Afternoon, low tide.

Hey that picture was kind of deceiving – it didn’t show some of the hordes of people out in the bay. There’s also a deer situation at the shrine. Theses guys were in the process of ravaging the baby carriage.

Things got a bit tense when Mom had to defend the carriage from the deer – I was almost expecting someone to go over the edge onto the mudflats.

And at night – the incoming tide made for beautiful reflections.

And in the morning, high tide.

No, no, don’t mind me. I’ll just look in your pocket. I’m sure you’ve got something to eat in there. Carry on with your picture.

 

These people really did have food and it nearly became hand to hand combat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

You may think, from our stories, that we’ll eat anything. Not so, actually. Well, maybe Wilf will…..

Never say never!

In Matsuyama we tracked down another chicken restaurant. Not quite a beak to tail establishment, but pretty close. We were looking at a set menu to share and there it was, included in the set.

What the heck. We went for it. It was early in the evening and the proprietor was making sure we were well looked after, which included practically dipping said chicken in the shoyu (soy) sauce when he thought we weren’t using enough. ‘More, more. It will be more delicious.’

Actually, there’s not that much to taste with chicken sashimi. Mostly it’s rather chewy. Certainly not the melting texture of raw fish.

The chicken sashimi was followed by an extravaganza of chicken – grilled, skewered, mysterious crunchy bits on salad, deep fried chicken skin served like potato chips and a stellar chicken broth with a big rice ball.

Man oh man – it was all good.  Oishi!

Making friends with the chicken man!

 

 

After our mountain adventures we headed back down to the coastal city of Kochi. Wilf decided to put us in a ryokan. Most often these are country inns, often in particularly scenic locations. Country inn makes them sound rustic, which is not the case. Joseikan is an urban ryokan, 120 years old and in a city that doesn’t see a huge amount of foreign tourism. We were escorted to our room by the front desk clerk and a few moments later this lovely lady arrived.

After serving us tea she confirmed that our yukatas were correctly sized for our height and had us select a time for dinner in our room. And by the way – our room is huge!  And a real bonus is a sitting area with chairs!

We scampered off to the very swanky spa on the top floor for a soak before dinner, returning just as dinner was being delivered.

This style of meal is called kaiseki, which consists of many small dishes. Most of which are fairly mysterious to us. The fish platter looked very good:

 

And it was – it included bonito tuna that had been seared over a fire made with rice stalks.

Every time we would just about be thinking – okay, that’s the lot our lady would pop back with something else until the fruit and ice cream arrived. That we knew was the end! But with the rest of the meal there is no particular order  – a little of this, some of that as it catches your fancy. The covered pots hold a little wok filled with pieces of beef, chicken and veggies that cook over a small flame. Off to one side is a similar arrangement to cook the rice.

After we ate the dinner lady took the dishes away and a few minutes later housekeeping arrived to switch us to night mode. The table was moved, futons and bedding retrieved from the cupboard and we were good to go.

Here’s what the room looked like with the futons installed.

Through the door at the far end is the entry vestibule with a shoe closet and tea service area. Entry to the toilet and the separate shower/washstand area are from the vestibule. Once the sliding screen is closed we’re in a large tatami mat room.

Looking back to the window and the seating area. I kid you not when I say that the vestibule was close to size of some of the rooms we’ve stayed in.

After a lovely sleep on the thick fluffy futon ( the issue with the futon is getting up and down from the floor, not with the comfort of the bed) I decided to head back up to the spa for another soak – because I could. I trotted upstairs, went down the hall and turned right as I had the night before. I was standing in the entryway about to put my slippers in a cubby hole when a tiny little old lady popped through the curtain and grabbed me. Saying ‘no, no’ she pushed me through the curtain across the hall and disappeared.

Well, WTF, thought I. I looked at the curtain. Red. In my befuddled state (no coffee) I’m trying to remember – red for ladies blue for men, or other way?  As I’m peeking back into the hall a man strolls serenely out the side I had been in.

Oh oh.

So I go into the change room – which is not the one I had been in the night previously. And when I get to the bath area – where the night before the outdoor bath had been a small round jetted tub, now there was a large rectangular pool.

See, this is where it really is annoying to be illiterate. There was a sign in the hall with red writing  pointing at the red curtain and blue writing at the blue curtain. A blizzard of kanji, but not a word of English.

I think I have the red is for ladies, blue is for gentlemen rule burned thoroughly into my brain now. And I owe many thanks to the little lady who saved me from really embarrassing myself.

But really- switching from side to side – what’s up with that!

 

 

 

 

 

In 1994 Alex Kerr published his book ‘Lost Japan’. It has many interesting things in it, but mostly it is a lament over the loss of old Japan (by default beautiful and good) and its replacement by the modern(by default ugly and bad). It can be tricky, as a westerner, looking at Japan. We are delighted by the high tech wizardry that we see and impressed by the deep history, by the art and culture.  But we can’t expect a country or a culture to remain frozen in an idealized version of the past.

Besides the beauty of the valley one of the big attractions of the area special bridges. They are often described as vine bridges, which doesn’t quite cover it. The story is that a samurai clan were defeated in a battle and withdrew deep into the valleys to rebuild and return another day. They never did, becoming farmers instead. But they built these bridges which could be cut down to foil attackers, if need be. Or so the legend says.

The local bus system had us to the Kazurabashi by about 9:30. Down at the river level it was chilly. And being early we had the bridge to ourselves.

An early group of tourists walk carefully across the bridge.

My turn! The modern incarnation of the bridge has steel cables as back up, but vines don’t really describe the material. This is wood that has been woven and twisted- somehow.

 

The river below looks benign now, but scour marks show how high the water is when the snow melt comes down – a torrent! Because the bridge is moving and the slats are widely spaced we had to look down for each footstep, which meant looking right through the bridge to the river below. Rather unnerving!

Looking back at the vine bridge and the foot bridge from the river bottom.

Apparently the bridge is rebuilt every three years. I’d like to see that.

 

 

 

 

 

A short ferry ride from Takamatsu is the island of Naoshima. Once upon a time it had a population of about 8000, now there are about 3300 people living there. Through a partnership with a publishing magnate the island is being turned into a big art experiment/exhibit. We decided to go and see, and decided that touring by bike was the way to go.

 

 

 

 

 

Last we spoke I was telling you about our bike ride across the Kibiji plain. We stopped at one point for a bite to eat and to try to figure out just where we were. While at the picnic area we met a couple riding the trail in the opposite direction. They were both from Italy, the Milan area, but are living and working in North Queensland, Australia. After a bit of chit chat he asked if we found it difficult to meet Japanese people. We agreed that the Japanese do not tend to sit in the town square, drinking grappa and watching football on tv. Nor do they make an evening promenade and chat with their neighbours. But difficult to meet?

Really, we were talking about serious stuff!

On the train to Takamatsu Wilf and his seat mate, a bank manager, got to chatting. They were talking up a storm, and eventually got to ‘how old are you?’ That led to ‘and your wife?’  Long pause as the age difference was considered, and then, ‘how did you do that?

Once arrived in Takematsu we were looking for a lunch place – we had our map out comparing possibilities when a woman smiled at Wilf then walked over to see if we needed help. Soon we were walking down the mall, next we were having lunch together. Meet Junko

 

Junko owns a dress shop and once a week she and her friends meet with their English tutor to work on their conversation. As their class was the following day we were invited to join them. Which we did. And it was great fun.

That night we found a great chicken restaurant – grilled chicken on the bone. Before I show you this picture I will say in my own defence that the menu specifically said  ‘use a napkin, pick up the leg and chomp, chomp, chomp’. So I did, because the chopsticks were not cutting it!

At the table next to was a fellow who turned out to be a pilot with ANA, one of the Japanese national airlines. He was curious about where we were from and how we found out about this specific restaurant. (Answer: Tripadvisor).  By the time he left we were up to speed about his family and his career and travel aspirations.

Last night we stayed at a guest house and met Shuhei and Yukiko:

(In case you were wondering our meeting people incidents don’t always involve beer. Just sometimes)

So, back to the Italian guy. No, we haven’t had trouble meeting people. I’m probably too much the polite Canadian to say so, but his issue might have something to do with his big size, shaved head, big beard, many visible tattoos, his female companion’s facial piercings and tattoos. Perhaps they’ll find Tokyo more their style.

 

 

 

Kurashiki sits to one side of a large agricultural plain. Our guide book notes that Kurashiki has avoided ‘natural and wartime catastrophes’, which has meant that it’s old city has been preserved. It is a major tourist spot with lots of shops, but we managed to do most of our touring late in the day when the crowds had thinned out.

Narrow streets.

A canal.

Rickshaw drivers for rent:

And so pretty at night:

We took a train ride a couple of stops over, where we rented bikes for the day. After a short jaunt through the town of Soja we started onto a bike trail that would take us about 17k through the rice fields. We had what was referred to as a Mom bike – no gears, basket on the front, hard seat. Since pretty much the whole ride was flat it worked out fine. We had a detailed map -in Japanese, of course, and pantomimed instructions from the rental folks, so we felt pretty confident we could manage.

It was a beautiful day for a ride.

Lots of rice relate activity. Most of the time we were on what we thought was a dedicated bike path, but every so often a vehicle would buzz by – looks like a path, might be a road.

In addition to rice there were small market gardens and the occasional field of cosmos.

They say pride goeth before a fall, and of course just about the time we thought we had this all sort d we veered right not left and got ourselves on the wrong bike path. In spite of great efforts to convince ourselves that the map still made sense we eventually realized that the high speed train tracks we were riding under were not on the map.

So, some retracing of the route was required. On th one hand- we got lost. On the other – we got to see this guy at work with his little rice combine – smaller than a zamboni.

Okay, different guy at the end, but you get the point. Very interesting.

Once back on track we found our way. Had a tough time finding the train station/bike depot, but we persevered. There were no places for food directly on the bike route, but we had brought sandwiches. There were vending machines in strange places, though. Just as I’d be thinking ‘I could use another bottle of water’ we’d round a corner and there would be a vending machine at the side of the path, or the end of someone’s driveway. Very convenient.

So – a big day. The bath on the roof of our hotel seemed extra wonderful after all that pedalling.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the west we see a man in the moon, but in some eastern countries there is a rabbit up there. And while we were in Matsue rabbits emerged as a theme. About an hour by train from the city is an important Shinto shrine, the Izumo-taisha.

 

Making friends while checking out the rabbits.

Rabbits sharing sake as done in a Shinto marriage ceremony.

 

Really, they are everywhere.

Even rabbits saying their prayers. At most shrines one approaches the appointed spot and throws a coin in a box. We then bow twice, clap twice ( to summon the god) and bow once more before offering a prayer. At this shrine the difference is that we clap four times to summon the god.  This is a busy shrine, with lots of singles wishing for marriage and lots of married couple giving thanks.

The shrine is also famous for having the largest rice straw rope in Japan hanging from the rafters:

 

Outside of the shrine was a rabbit themed gift shop that had many of examples of rabbits holding a good luck charm called a magatama.

On the way back to Matsue we stopped at the Vogel gardens, which turned out to be an enormous park setting full of flowers and birds.  They are clearly set up for huge crowds, but late day on an October afternoon we had the place to ourselves.

The official group picture spot was clearly meant for more than two people!

And then there were bird encounters.

 

Pretty cool!

 

 

 

 

 

When we arrived at our hotel in Takamatsu yesterday there was a package waiting for us. Inside was this:

Not the cup of coffee! A portable wi-go generator!  We found the company on the internet (their main business is renting cell phones) and put in an order. And it worked. We shall see if we have reception once we leave the city, but it has already helped us find our way to a restaurant.

Japan Post handles the mail for the country, and I’m sure FedEx and Purolator and UPS have a presence, but for moving things around Yamamoto Transport are the guys. We see their trucks all over, but there are also fleets of motorbikes in the city.

This is a depot near us. Most convenience stores also take in packages.

See the oval with the black cat carrying a kitten.  That’s the company logo. It was on the envelope with our wi-if doodad and inside is a prepaid return envelope which we can drop at a 7-11 or at the airport. Very convenient. Apparently inexpensive, too. People use the service here when travelling to send their luggage ahead of them when travelling by train. Or if you over shop and don’t want to carry packages, or see something you want to give to someone- zoom! It is on its way.

 

 

 

Niimi is in the mountains, but our next destination took us down to a wide coastal plain and the city of Mitsue. Even up in the Niimi area we saw a lot of rice being cultivated, mostly in little patches tucked in here and there. Out on the plain the rice was being grown on a much larger scale. I always thought rice was grown in paddies, standing in water. Clearly this is not the only way.  I’ll report back later on that.

 

 

 

They got them all around the corners without incident.

And the whole time the drummers are pounding away. I don’t know they kept going – the parade was scheduled to be about 90 minutes long and they were some length of time waiting for it all to begin. And it was hot!

And at the end all the kids joined in:

 

How do you even organize such a thing? Where do you store 22 of these carts. Where do you practise the drumming? Or moving the carts? How do you organize all the clothing? It was an amazing thing to see and hear.