Stories from Spring Shenanigans
Day 1: Fukui to Miyajima
Oh, too early in the morning! Why do grand adventures always have to begin at the crack of dawn when everyone is too muddled to fully appreciate the sweet taste of anticipation and excitement? All I can taste is the cup of coffee that hasn't kicked in yet. If epic journeys started at noon there would be fewer yawns and more enthusiasm. Changing plans at the last minute (a small disagreement between me and my alarm clock over what time I should get up) we took a 6:27am train instead of the 5:10, and how I enjoyed that extra hour of sleep. Or I'm assuming I did-- I was appropriately unconscious. We got a special deal on train tickets because it is spring break-- the Seishun 18 Ticket allows 5 days of unlimited travel for 11500yen (about $100). The only catch is that you have to use local trains. No Shinkansen for us. Traveling to Hiroshima takes 9.5 hours on local trains with 4 transfers. I won't go into the gory details of the mind-numbing boredom 9 hours on local trains can induce. Use your imagination.
The Japanese are often stereotyped for their conformity. Living here frequently disproves or more strongly asserts that theory. Town after town we pass through all look exactly the same. Every mountain, apartment building, house, school, cemented beach, park and riverbed. 'The conformity extends to everything!' I think, scared by the Orwellian implications of that. After traveling for hours I still feel like I am in Fukui. As we chug-chug-chug closer to Hiroshima the only difference I can detect is that the roofs are a lighter red with small decorative fish at the corners. A small difference, really, for several hundred kilometers of travel.
We go straight through the center of Hiroshima to Miyajima. Miyajima, a little island off the coast of Hiroshima, is home to a famous Shinto shrine and one of the most photographed scenes in Japan-- the floating red tori. I helped add to its "Most Photographed" standing by snapping several dozen myself. Maybe it is something in the air but once you start taking pictures of that thing it is hard to stop (now there is a story idea: woman who obsessively takes photos of everything, although that might turn into an autobiography if I'm not careful).
We hop on a bus from the ferry terminal to the campsite where I had, in the spirit of being free, unplanned and spontaneous, not made a reservation. This wasn't a problem because of an overcrowded campsite (there were a mere 2 other tents in the whole place) but because they had not set up our rental tent for us. Ruan and I assured them that we can manage to set up a tent ourselves. What they forgot to tell us was that the tent is an ancient model (possibly left over from the Sino-Japanese War circa 1894) with no instructions, lots of extra parts and a wood base the wrong size.
Amusing escapades follow which I will not detail. The deer were the only witnesses and I prefer it remain that way. Although not ascetically pleasing (according to Ruan it was the "weirdest tent ever") in the end it didn't rain, the wind didn't blow and the wild monkeys didn't attack and so the tent stayed up through the night. Woo-hoo!!!
We caught a taxi back into town (the bus stopped running at 4:30) to do a bit of sightseeing, but Miyajima was like a ghost town. The last ferry had left and all the shopkeepers had gone home. The quiet was very peaceful (very unlike Japan) and the lack of crowds was nice for wandering around and getting a feel for the island. We had Hiroshima-style Okonomiyaki for dinner in one of the 3 open restaurants. We tried to get a taxi but the only taxi on the island apparently stops running at 7pm, so we walked 40 minutes back to the campsite, followed for most of the time by a deer I nicknamed "Venison." Venison was cute and a nice, quiet traveling companion, but we had to draw the line at him sleeping in the tent with us. We thought about hitchhiking but of the 3 cars that passed, none stopped and we didn't really have our hearts in it (true hitchhikers aren't hoping the cars will keep going).
Day 2: Miyajima to Hiroshima
A glorious day dawned as the sky rose out of the eastern sea. The sun meandered over to a little campground on a little island and found two cold, sore-backed, sleep-deprived foreigners who were thinking, "Camping was fun, but glad we've got hotel reservations tonight." The campground in the morning was amazingly beautiful and peaceful. Our two neighbors had de-camped under cover of darkness and we were left with an entire campsite to ourselves. We watched the deer graze, listened to the babbling brook babble its best and soaked in the warm rays of the sun as we drank our coffee from the nearby vending machine (this is Japan after all).
Once we got back to the main part of Miyajima the tourists had descended. It made me long for the quiet of the evening. I'm glad we got to experience the peace and isolation of the island sans flocks of shutter-happy tourists. We walked to Momiji Park (Maple Leaf Park) and then took the Ropeway (what everyone in the rest of the world would call a gondola) to the top of the mountain. The view was stunning. The green forest was lush, covered in a wide variety of trees, bushes and shrubs. The water around the island was blue and the beaches white enough to make me wish I'd brought my swimsuit (the cold weather would have prevented me from using it, but I still wished I had it). As we soared over this in our little metal and glass box we could see Hiroshima city and various islands scattered in the distance. Aside from the spectacular views and a 1,000 year old fire, the main attraction of Monkey Island is... (oh, did I just ruin the punch line?) yup, the monkeys. There were dozens sitting around at the top doing monkey-like things such as brushing each other, glaring at all the people taking pictures and trying to make an honest buck by stealing the tourists' souvenirs. I've heard they are skillful little pickpockets, but we managed to avoid the criminal element.
After taking in all of the islands highlights, we went back into Hiroshima. One thing that struck me about Hiroshima is the presence of so many foreigners. Fukui doesn't get a lot foreign tourists (unless they are related to someone living there). Hiroshima is obviously a place that tourists to Japan visit. Loads of Japanese people spoke English to us, the maps and street signs all had English sections-- it almost made me feel I had left Japan.
Hiroshima is a nice city that has done a wonderful job of displaying and communicating the terror of the Atomic Bomb and the importance of it never happening again. However, they don't dwell on that to the point of being depressing. Even while staring at the A-Dome Building or looking at different monuments dedicated to people who died there is so much evidence of life in the Peace Park. Japanese teenagers were sitting on the banks of the river playing guitars and singing. I passed 2 foreigners playing Backgammon and enjoying the nice weather. Something about the ability of people to go on after a disaster like that and rebuild and continue to live (and not just the barest level of existence, but to laugh again and be able to appreciate life again) really impacted me. So while Hiroshima was clearly sad, it didn't depress me the way I was expecting. There was too much hope in the air to be depressed.
Day 3: Hiroshima to Kyushu
Waking up in a hotel is such a pleasure! We stayed in the Aster Plaza International Youth Hostel, which despite the name, was nicer than many hotels I've stayed in. It had the huge advantage of being a few blocks away from the Peace Park but being priced like a hostel. If only all accommodations in Japan were so convenient! We finished up the last of our sightseeing in Hiroshima, swung by Subway to stock up on lunch (you can't understand getting excited about a subway sandwich until you have gone more that 2 years without one) and then went to the train station. More trains, trains, trains! From Hiroshima to Kumamoto in Kyushu was only 8.5 hours by local train and it didn't seem as long and tortuous as the first day's travel had been (perhaps I am building up a tolerance for traveling on trains). Even upon entering Kyushu my conformity theory was still holding but Kyushu has a green tropical lushness that Honshu seems to lack. The bamboo forests are immense, the trees gargantuan monuments of green, flowers litter the landscape like Tootsie Roll wrappers the day after Halloween. We met one of Ruan's friends from South Africa in Kumamoto and stayed with her. We had a late night in accompanied by lots of red wine and even more conversation.
Day 4: Kumamoto
A lovely, lazy day which was desperately needed after all of the traveling. Amazing how sitting for so many hours doing nothing can wear me down. We made a biltong (South African jerky) picnic, drank Amarulla cocktails (a South African liquor) and relaxed. In the evening we explored Kumamoto. Although only twice the size of Fukui it seems a million times more exciting. The people, the shops, the energy in the air all made Fukui seem drab by comparison. It didn't have the overpowering feeling of being too big so as to be overwhelming (like Tokyo or Osaka at times). Dinner at a Mexican restaurant and then drinks at the local gaijin bar which is actually owned by a gaijin. Amazing.
Day 5: More Kumamoto
Kyushu being so far south already has Sakura (cherry blossoms) blooming. Kumamoto Castle, a tall dark building, is surrounded by huge fluffy trees of pink. Like a scarf wrapped around to protect it from the still brisk air. The nearby mountains have polka dots of pink and white all over their green covering making me think of a bikini. A bit more laziness today (it is a holiday) but we made it out to do a bit of Hanami (cherry blossom viewing) and visit an onsen. We had dinner in a cute cafe and finished up in a German Beer Hall.
I know our choice of restaurants seems strange, but I live in Japan and can eat Japanese food whenever I want. I don't need to travel further than down the block for sushi and udon and tempura and ramen. The things I can't get in the country-side are the things I want to eat when on holiday. When I went to Hong Kong I frequented an Irish pub, and likewise on this trip any Western food I could get thrilled me beyond belief. It's the small things really.
Day 6 and 7: Kumamoto to Hakata to Osaka to Fukui
Due to cold, miserable, wet weather which other people call rain and I call a reason to stay in bed, we canceled our trip to the volcano Aso-zan. I'm sure it is beautiful but I also suspect it looks a lot like all of the other volcanoes I have seen. Plus I learned my lesson in Costa Rica-- lots of clouds can really spoil a view.
We had lunch and did a bit of last minute shopping that we can't do in Fukui. We took a train from Kumamoto to Hakata/Fukuoka. Dinner in a yakitori restaurant and then we got on an overnight train. We had to sleep in chairs (no bunks!) and although we were woken up every time the train stopped it was much better than traveling during the day. The night train is a special one that only runs during certain vacation times and is romantically named the "Moonlight Kyushu." (not so romantic after sleeping on it though)
Although the tickets were incredibly cheap I think it might have been a bit optimistic going all the way to Kyushu on local trains (as in next time I will be buying a Shinkansen ticket). We spent a lot of our vacation sitting on trains and, as I said before, most of the scenery in Japan is repetitive. Hopefully Siberia has a slightly more diverse landscape or that is going to be a long train ride in August.
And finally back to Fukui. Although I complain about Fukui being so small (mostly when I am being dazzled by the pretty lights of the big city) it is home and returning home after a trip is one of the most pleasant experiences in the world. The tiredness has sunken deep into my bones and I have spent a week out of my element. To then get home and finally, completely relax is wonderful. To unpack, putting things where they belong (as opposed to floating wildly around the bottom of my backpack), to look at my souvenirs, to see all the pictures I took. It isn't that I don't like traveling, I obviously love it, but that last leg of a journey returning home always does me in physically and mentally. By the time it is finished, the sight of my apartment gives me thrills of joy and just enough energy to stumble up the stairs to my front door.
Day 1: Fukui to Miyajima
Oh, too early in the morning! Why do grand adventures always have to begin at the crack of dawn when everyone is too muddled to fully appreciate the sweet taste of anticipation and excitement? All I can taste is the cup of coffee that hasn't kicked in yet. If epic journeys started at noon there would be fewer yawns and more enthusiasm. Changing plans at the last minute (a small disagreement between me and my alarm clock over what time I should get up) we took a 6:27am train instead of the 5:10, and how I enjoyed that extra hour of sleep. Or I'm assuming I did-- I was appropriately unconscious. We got a special deal on train tickets because it is spring break-- the Seishun 18 Ticket allows 5 days of unlimited travel for 11500yen (about $100). The only catch is that you have to use local trains. No Shinkansen for us. Traveling to Hiroshima takes 9.5 hours on local trains with 4 transfers. I won't go into the gory details of the mind-numbing boredom 9 hours on local trains can induce. Use your imagination.
The Japanese are often stereotyped for their conformity. Living here frequently disproves or more strongly asserts that theory. Town after town we pass through all look exactly the same. Every mountain, apartment building, house, school, cemented beach, park and riverbed. 'The conformity extends to everything!' I think, scared by the Orwellian implications of that. After traveling for hours I still feel like I am in Fukui. As we chug-chug-chug closer to Hiroshima the only difference I can detect is that the roofs are a lighter red with small decorative fish at the corners. A small difference, really, for several hundred kilometers of travel.
We go straight through the center of Hiroshima to Miyajima. Miyajima, a little island off the coast of Hiroshima, is home to a famous Shinto shrine and one of the most photographed scenes in Japan-- the floating red tori. I helped add to its "Most Photographed" standing by snapping several dozen myself. Maybe it is something in the air but once you start taking pictures of that thing it is hard to stop (now there is a story idea: woman who obsessively takes photos of everything, although that might turn into an autobiography if I'm not careful).
We hop on a bus from the ferry terminal to the campsite where I had, in the spirit of being free, unplanned and spontaneous, not made a reservation. This wasn't a problem because of an overcrowded campsite (there were a mere 2 other tents in the whole place) but because they had not set up our rental tent for us. Ruan and I assured them that we can manage to set up a tent ourselves. What they forgot to tell us was that the tent is an ancient model (possibly left over from the Sino-Japanese War circa 1894) with no instructions, lots of extra parts and a wood base the wrong size.
Amusing escapades follow which I will not detail. The deer were the only witnesses and I prefer it remain that way. Although not ascetically pleasing (according to Ruan it was the "weirdest tent ever") in the end it didn't rain, the wind didn't blow and the wild monkeys didn't attack and so the tent stayed up through the night. Woo-hoo!!!
We caught a taxi back into town (the bus stopped running at 4:30) to do a bit of sightseeing, but Miyajima was like a ghost town. The last ferry had left and all the shopkeepers had gone home. The quiet was very peaceful (very unlike Japan) and the lack of crowds was nice for wandering around and getting a feel for the island. We had Hiroshima-style Okonomiyaki for dinner in one of the 3 open restaurants. We tried to get a taxi but the only taxi on the island apparently stops running at 7pm, so we walked 40 minutes back to the campsite, followed for most of the time by a deer I nicknamed "Venison." Venison was cute and a nice, quiet traveling companion, but we had to draw the line at him sleeping in the tent with us. We thought about hitchhiking but of the 3 cars that passed, none stopped and we didn't really have our hearts in it (true hitchhikers aren't hoping the cars will keep going).
Day 2: Miyajima to Hiroshima
A glorious day dawned as the sky rose out of the eastern sea. The sun meandered over to a little campground on a little island and found two cold, sore-backed, sleep-deprived foreigners who were thinking, "Camping was fun, but glad we've got hotel reservations tonight." The campground in the morning was amazingly beautiful and peaceful. Our two neighbors had de-camped under cover of darkness and we were left with an entire campsite to ourselves. We watched the deer graze, listened to the babbling brook babble its best and soaked in the warm rays of the sun as we drank our coffee from the nearby vending machine (this is Japan after all).
Once we got back to the main part of Miyajima the tourists had descended. It made me long for the quiet of the evening. I'm glad we got to experience the peace and isolation of the island sans flocks of shutter-happy tourists. We walked to Momiji Park (Maple Leaf Park) and then took the Ropeway (what everyone in the rest of the world would call a gondola) to the top of the mountain. The view was stunning. The green forest was lush, covered in a wide variety of trees, bushes and shrubs. The water around the island was blue and the beaches white enough to make me wish I'd brought my swimsuit (the cold weather would have prevented me from using it, but I still wished I had it). As we soared over this in our little metal and glass box we could see Hiroshima city and various islands scattered in the distance. Aside from the spectacular views and a 1,000 year old fire, the main attraction of Monkey Island is... (oh, did I just ruin the punch line?) yup, the monkeys. There were dozens sitting around at the top doing monkey-like things such as brushing each other, glaring at all the people taking pictures and trying to make an honest buck by stealing the tourists' souvenirs. I've heard they are skillful little pickpockets, but we managed to avoid the criminal element.
After taking in all of the islands highlights, we went back into Hiroshima. One thing that struck me about Hiroshima is the presence of so many foreigners. Fukui doesn't get a lot foreign tourists (unless they are related to someone living there). Hiroshima is obviously a place that tourists to Japan visit. Loads of Japanese people spoke English to us, the maps and street signs all had English sections-- it almost made me feel I had left Japan.
Hiroshima is a nice city that has done a wonderful job of displaying and communicating the terror of the Atomic Bomb and the importance of it never happening again. However, they don't dwell on that to the point of being depressing. Even while staring at the A-Dome Building or looking at different monuments dedicated to people who died there is so much evidence of life in the Peace Park. Japanese teenagers were sitting on the banks of the river playing guitars and singing. I passed 2 foreigners playing Backgammon and enjoying the nice weather. Something about the ability of people to go on after a disaster like that and rebuild and continue to live (and not just the barest level of existence, but to laugh again and be able to appreciate life again) really impacted me. So while Hiroshima was clearly sad, it didn't depress me the way I was expecting. There was too much hope in the air to be depressed.
Day 3: Hiroshima to Kyushu
Waking up in a hotel is such a pleasure! We stayed in the Aster Plaza International Youth Hostel, which despite the name, was nicer than many hotels I've stayed in. It had the huge advantage of being a few blocks away from the Peace Park but being priced like a hostel. If only all accommodations in Japan were so convenient! We finished up the last of our sightseeing in Hiroshima, swung by Subway to stock up on lunch (you can't understand getting excited about a subway sandwich until you have gone more that 2 years without one) and then went to the train station. More trains, trains, trains! From Hiroshima to Kumamoto in Kyushu was only 8.5 hours by local train and it didn't seem as long and tortuous as the first day's travel had been (perhaps I am building up a tolerance for traveling on trains). Even upon entering Kyushu my conformity theory was still holding but Kyushu has a green tropical lushness that Honshu seems to lack. The bamboo forests are immense, the trees gargantuan monuments of green, flowers litter the landscape like Tootsie Roll wrappers the day after Halloween. We met one of Ruan's friends from South Africa in Kumamoto and stayed with her. We had a late night in accompanied by lots of red wine and even more conversation.
Day 4: Kumamoto
A lovely, lazy day which was desperately needed after all of the traveling. Amazing how sitting for so many hours doing nothing can wear me down. We made a biltong (South African jerky) picnic, drank Amarulla cocktails (a South African liquor) and relaxed. In the evening we explored Kumamoto. Although only twice the size of Fukui it seems a million times more exciting. The people, the shops, the energy in the air all made Fukui seem drab by comparison. It didn't have the overpowering feeling of being too big so as to be overwhelming (like Tokyo or Osaka at times). Dinner at a Mexican restaurant and then drinks at the local gaijin bar which is actually owned by a gaijin. Amazing.
Day 5: More Kumamoto
Kyushu being so far south already has Sakura (cherry blossoms) blooming. Kumamoto Castle, a tall dark building, is surrounded by huge fluffy trees of pink. Like a scarf wrapped around to protect it from the still brisk air. The nearby mountains have polka dots of pink and white all over their green covering making me think of a bikini. A bit more laziness today (it is a holiday) but we made it out to do a bit of Hanami (cherry blossom viewing) and visit an onsen. We had dinner in a cute cafe and finished up in a German Beer Hall.
I know our choice of restaurants seems strange, but I live in Japan and can eat Japanese food whenever I want. I don't need to travel further than down the block for sushi and udon and tempura and ramen. The things I can't get in the country-side are the things I want to eat when on holiday. When I went to Hong Kong I frequented an Irish pub, and likewise on this trip any Western food I could get thrilled me beyond belief. It's the small things really.
Day 6 and 7: Kumamoto to Hakata to Osaka to Fukui
Due to cold, miserable, wet weather which other people call rain and I call a reason to stay in bed, we canceled our trip to the volcano Aso-zan. I'm sure it is beautiful but I also suspect it looks a lot like all of the other volcanoes I have seen. Plus I learned my lesson in Costa Rica-- lots of clouds can really spoil a view.
We had lunch and did a bit of last minute shopping that we can't do in Fukui. We took a train from Kumamoto to Hakata/Fukuoka. Dinner in a yakitori restaurant and then we got on an overnight train. We had to sleep in chairs (no bunks!) and although we were woken up every time the train stopped it was much better than traveling during the day. The night train is a special one that only runs during certain vacation times and is romantically named the "Moonlight Kyushu." (not so romantic after sleeping on it though)
Although the tickets were incredibly cheap I think it might have been a bit optimistic going all the way to Kyushu on local trains (as in next time I will be buying a Shinkansen ticket). We spent a lot of our vacation sitting on trains and, as I said before, most of the scenery in Japan is repetitive. Hopefully Siberia has a slightly more diverse landscape or that is going to be a long train ride in August.
And finally back to Fukui. Although I complain about Fukui being so small (mostly when I am being dazzled by the pretty lights of the big city) it is home and returning home after a trip is one of the most pleasant experiences in the world. The tiredness has sunken deep into my bones and I have spent a week out of my element. To then get home and finally, completely relax is wonderful. To unpack, putting things where they belong (as opposed to floating wildly around the bottom of my backpack), to look at my souvenirs, to see all the pictures I took. It isn't that I don't like traveling, I obviously love it, but that last leg of a journey returning home always does me in physically and mentally. By the time it is finished, the sight of my apartment gives me thrills of joy and just enough energy to stumble up the stairs to my front door.
