Last day on the rails

This is the last day of our rail pass and the day we have to head back to Tokyo. I think we are both ready to complete this visit to Japan. This is not a sign that we have had enough - there is so much more that we could do and would want to do if we had the time - but rather that we were always aware of the limited time we had and we have used it well and completed what could reasonably be done in just over two weeks. We have explored much more of Japan than I ever achieved in my 4+ years of being here before and have used our rail pass well without the trip turning into a blur of towns and cities.

The end of the journey is quite simple, a Shinkansen back to Tokyo station where we have taken the precaution of pre-booking accommodation at a Toyoko Inn. When booking we had to, with the assistance of a very helpful receptionist, go through a number of hotels as our first choices were full. Our preference had been one in or near Ikebukero or Ueno as we wanted to shop in these more low key areas of central Tokyo but we ended up with one in Nihonbashi, part of the business district. This was fine by me as when I was Japan in the 1980s it was Nihonbashi where my language school was located and it was one of the places I wanted to visit.

Arriving at Tokyo station we found our way to an exit and grabbed a taxi to take us to the hotel. This took us through the old part of the station, similar to other grand stations in Europe, which is being restored. We arrived at the hotel and checked in, finding that our reservation had indeed been made. However, as usual, as it was not 3:00pm we could not go to our room but we could leave our luggage. This we did and then made our way back onto the JR Yamanote Line, which circles Tokyo, via a nearby subway station. Our JR Rail passes were valid until midnight and so we planned to make the most of them.

On the way to the subway we crossed a bridge as this part of Tokyo has one of the many rivers that flow through it into Tokyo Bay. There were two notable things about this river. The first is, like many others, it was somewhat obscured by the expressway that follows its course but directly above it, being built on great concrete pylons that stick out of the water. All available space is nearly always used. One step short of directly concreting over it which I had noticed had happened in other cities. The second is that, as the bridge had the cover of the expressway, it was also home to the local homeless. They are evident throughout the city camped neatly (yes, even the hobos are neat here) under expressways and flyovers. In this place a man slept on a cardboard bed and further along what must have been someones possessions were neatly tied to the bridge rail in a couple of plastic bags. It seems that here the homeless can mark their place and leave their stuff behind without fear of theft. We had not seen much evidence of poverty in Japan, and I have no idea of its extent. However given that this is such a well defined society I would imagine that if you are not a member of the mainstream then you would quite easily fall off the steep cliff of social viability and it would be very hard to climb back up again.

It was a short hop to Ueno station where we planned to shop. We were not alone. It is clear that, here, shopping is recreation and it was Saturday. The place was packed.

Ready, steady...

...shop

Like so many other things on this trip things worked out very well. We had some specific things in mind and after a little wandering we ended up in exactly the right shop with everything we needed just across the road from the station. A bit of fatigue was beginning to set in so we paused for a parfait in a department store cafe which required us spending about 20 minutes in a queue before we could get a table. However, even queuing for a place in a restaurant brought back pleasant memories for me.

Display outside parfait place.
These kinds of places have such good memories for me as I must relate them to treats when in Tokyo as a youngster. 

After Ueno it was back on the Yamanote line to Ikebukero (where we had originally hoped to stay) for a bit of a looksee. Then we decided to complete our circumnavigation* of inner Tokyo by heading to Shinagawa for dinner. There are clearly two sides to Shinagawa as when we exited the station at the nearest point there was, essentially, nothing. Not many people and nothing open. Retracing our steps and going the long way through an arcade to the other exit brought us out onto a plaza that led to small streets with hundreds of restaurants and loads of people. Saturday in Tokyo has a special feel for me - I think it is the combination of work and recreation as many (used to and probably still do) work half of Saturday and so Saturday afternoon / evening is the start of a short weekend. So, unlike the rest of the week, there is a combination of people just from work and many others out shoring up the Japanese economy by buying things (I cannot, for the life of me, figure out where they store or put these things given the size of the places they live in).

We found a little bar kind of restaurant which you enter under the noren 'curtain'and through sliding doors, getting the last two available seats which were boxes with padding on the top and hollow inside to put your bags. Ordering was aided by a couple of helpful guys at the adjoining table and consisted mainly of pointing at what they had and at other things on the menu. It worked out well and was delicious. For drinks we had 'Highballs' which were basically whiskey (I think) watered down with soda and ice. Very popular but not totally my taste.

After dinner it was our final JR ride back to Tokyo station on the Yamanote line where, going through the turn style I pocketed our JR Passes for the last time. Satisfied that we had made good use of them; sad that they were finished.

end of the line :(

We then got the subway back to near our hotel and, using my history of being a local in Nihonbashi and having taken care to note the route from hotel to subway on the way out, I managed to get us lost. Not the smartest move given that we were both knackered after what had been a huge day. However I was able to use the last few megabites of my mobile phone plan to locate us and see us back to the hotel and our room and for our last sleep (at least until next trip) in a Toyoko Inn.


* I cannot use this word without recalling that, like many others, it provoked a few discussions between Rosemary and me, this time in respect of what the land based equivalent of 'navigation' might be.

Morioka folk tales

After arriving in Morioka in the north of Japan we decided that we had done enough zooming around and so we booked a second night in the hotel, another Toyoko Inn.  These hotels are really a bit of a genius concept and they are everywhere. They are cheap and usually by the station. They have the immediate appearance of any hotel but when you look, all the extras are missing. There is no coffee shop, or restaurant, no function area or gift shop. Nothing but a reception desk and a lobby with tables and chairs. In the morning the lobby becomes the breakfast room where, from a tiny kitchen, a self service breakfast is available. Self service includes taking your tray up, stacking your dishes and even wiping down the table. The rooms are small, very small, there is still a tv, trouser press (folded away), jug for boiling water designed to double as a humidifier, fridge, desk chair and other basic amenities. They are effectively closed between 10:00am and 3:00pm, and sometimes 4:00 when the rooms are cleaned. This has not been a problem for us as we are out during the day anyway. 

So, for our day in and around Morioka we took a local train south and then east to the town of Tono which has a strong association with Japanese folk tales and the like. Then it was to the helpful information centre where we decided to take a bus out to the model olde worlde village they have there. This village had a series of L shape buildings that housed both people and livestock, particularly horses, actual,live versions of which were in evidence. The earth ovens were also actually being used and emitted that smokey, charcoally smell that is really the hallmark of any village, real or staged, that I have been too. The same smell as in the huts in the north of Thailand or the gers of Mongolia. 

We were a little underwhelmed by the whole experience, tourist attractions not really being our thing. It did, however, get me thinking of, as well as,some sense of, Japan before full urbanisation which I found interesting. 

There were also group of cute little pre-schoolers, some of whom we had seen (and high (low?) fived at the railway station when we arrived. They were having lunch on the grass (a rare treat in Japan to be actually allowed to be on the grass), and each child, or pair of children, had a little plastic mat which they sat on with their shoes neatly placed beside them on the grass. They had all brought food from home and after a short group prayer they all tucked in. As they exited, in cute handholding pairs, they also stopped for a group 'Arigatogozaimashita' bow to the village staff.

The buses were scarce and so we slowly ate lunch in the restaurant and then lingered outside for about an hour before our ride back to the station and the trip back to Morioka. That night we just wanted a quick dinner and so we went to a diner kind of set up where you choose and pay for your food through a touch screen machine which produces tickets that are exchanged for the victuals. We took our time but I noticed that the place was turning its customers over at quite a rate and that the customers themselves were a wide variety of people, old and young, women and men and, seemingly, from different walks of life. 

Then it was simply back to the hotel for an early night, ready to return to Tokyo the next day. 

Small hotel

Slow train

Big man

Zig Zag Japan

Itoigawa is right on the edge of the Sea of Japan and our hotel was some 700 metres from the sea itself. So we wandered down through the town and then found that they have done what so many seaside towns have, built a bloody great main highway that brilliantly cuts the town off from the water. To even see the water required traversing a specially built underpass and viewing platform. Rosemary elected to skip it and I trotted through the underpass and peaked over the wall to see, essentially, the Petone foreshore. Except a lot calmer, even on a calm day in Wellington. No discernible wave movement at all.

Itoigawa is what you would call a sleepy town. We saw industry in our way in, and there seems to be quite a bit of quarrying and the like, but downtown was very subdued, even in the evening. As our hotel had not included breakfast I had gone for a wander and found a supermarket where I bought some items for breakfast including the genius that is two yummy pancakes sandwiched together with margarine and maple syrup in the middle. 

I should note here that I have taken a food conscience holiday while here in Japan. Although I (intentionally) have no knowledge of farming methods here, I am confident that eating eggs, pork, chicken requires a high degree of blindness as to their origin. I'm pretty sure the chickens don't live in little individual huts with tatami mats and Ofuro baths in the evening. Given that the people here live in a semi-battery situation the animals aren't going to have a lot of comfort or space. To my shame I just do not want to contemplate the pigs as I enjoy tonkatsu too much. And as for the pancakes and the like, I am just assuming that all ingredients are sufficiently preserved, radiated and modified that they will probably still be in my gut when I come back to Japan. 

Today was to be another travel day. We had elected to head north but with a bit of a scenic detour. The first step was to take an ordinary express train, not a Shinkansen, north to Niigata. The risk here was that it would be mainly tunnels and not the sea views we hoped for. We were in luck again. The train travels right along the coast for most of the trip, sometimes right up to the edge of the water with lovely views out over the mill pond Japan Sea. There were actual beaches with actual sand and actual people fishing. They must catch something I guess but the fishing can't be that good as there was ample evidence of commercial fishing in the form of the many little fishing boat harbours along the way and, in parts, long stretches of fishing detritus such as nets, floats and ropes washed up onto the beaches. In some spots there seemed enough to equip a boat and it mirrored in part the occasional float or rope of similar form that washes up,on our beach at home. 

Going to Niigata was the zig and now the zag and another zig - a Shinkansen from Niigata down southeast to Omiya, which is not far from Tokyo, and then, changing trains, north to Morioka. 

Shinkansen travel is our least favourite. The is something disorienting about zooming along at a couple hundred kph while sitting in a steady and quiet comfortable chair. Nice enough at the time but we both feel a bit weird after the trip. It seems to effect my balance somehow. Weird. 

We had a little time in Omiya to look at the huge array of food stalls in the station which, as many are, the bottom part of a shopping complex or department store. Unlike in the smaller towns and cities where food choices have been, at times, a little lacklustre, there was so much delicious looking food on offer here. We bought a nikuman for me and an an for Rosemary (meat and bean paste steamed buns respectively) and I also bought some delicious looking thing that, even after I ate it, remained unidentified to me. It tasted good though. 

Eating is de rigeur on long train rides here. The form is you buy bento or an assortment of foods and drinks and then you start to scoff them as soon as you find your seat, sometimes even before the train moves. This is done with such enthusiasm you suspect that it is the eating rather than the trip or the destination that is the desired out come of the journey.

After eating it is then, apparently, compulsory, to engage in the next form of prescribed behaviour, sleep. Sleep is not limited to long trips. Any journey, no matter how short, is sufficient time for a kip. I have seen someone get on a subway train, sit, fall asleep (or do a very good impression of someone with their head lolling about in sleep) and then suddenly wake up and get off - at the very next stop! Presumably this sleep routine was prescribed for the entertainment of other travellers as it is fun to watch the sleepers drooping and sagging and leaning in all directions before reaching that invisible tipping point and suddenly jerking up to start again. Friends sleep,on each other and strangers somehow manage, mostly, to almost sway or lean onto their neighbour, but not quite. 

We arrived in Morioka which is blessed with two Toyoko Inns, our lodging of choice, although here they are the same price rather than stratified as in other places (socialists). Arriving at the first we were told there was no room. Requests for the receptionist to telephone the other one to see if they had room were met with blank looks and, apparent, incomprehension. Thinking, even to the edges of the box let alone outside it, was not in evidence here. Contrast this to our experience at the other Toyoko Inn, which did have room, where we not only made bookings for one night, then two, but also were assisted to trawl through hotels in Tokyo until one with a vacancy was found and we were booked into it. 

After a little hike around the town, including crossing the river and back, we settled for dinner on a little bar kind of place.  There are hundreds of these places where working people come to talk and laugh and let a little loose. And smoke, a strange phenomena for us these days. I couldn't make out the menu and so asked the waitress to choose two items which she at first found, I think, embarrassing or hysterical judging by her laughter but which she then took very seriously and we needed up with a couple of good dishes to go with out beer.

Another Express

Incarcerated carcinogenators

Compulsory kai...

... and then mandatory moe

From Mountains to the Sea

Looking at the options for what to do around and where to go from Matsumoto we settled on heading north towards the Sea of Japan. Rosemary also wanted to visit one of Matsumoto's attractions, a Timepiece Museum which fortunately turned out to be just down the road. Our hotel faces onto a plaza made of attractive stonework and is only a few blocks from both the station and this museum. Breakfast was the usual melée in the lobby and I noticed as we have travelled to more remote locations the western style breakfast options have diminished and, now, disappeared entirely. Breakfast is triangles of nigiri sushi, pickles, miso, shredded cabbage, unidentifiable stewed vegetables(?), and potato salad which seems very popular. There was also a bowl of sliced pineapple which occasioned a rare unguarded moment when the lady filling it accidentally fired a piece across the table and laughed raucously with self-amusement and was completely unapologetic as she fetched it and placed it in the bowl. Quite refreshing (no, not the pineapple, the incident). 

Again we avoided the efficient route and chose a local train that, with a stopover of just under two hours, would take us to the coast and a town called Itoigawa which is famous for, well, nothing it would seem, other than being at the end of this train line. The risk with blindly choosing a route in this part of the country is that it is possible it is just a succession of tunnels and so all you can see is the reflection of your disappointed face as you truck along under and through the scenery. (Note to Auckland: get over yourself. Tunnels much longer than an inner city rail crossing or harbour crossing are common and frequent here in country much more vulnerable to natural disasters such as earthquakes). 

In the end, our choice turned out to be a lucky one. The two carriage train travelled right up the middle of the snow country where the Tokyoites come to ski, hike, climb and, most importantly, soak in hot pools after sumptuous meals. There are direct trains  from Shinjuku station in Tokyo to Matsumoto and our little train passed through country with spectacular alpine scenery including some very steep and high mountains still carrying remnants of snow from the winter. The snow fall is clearly heavy here as all the houses have steepish roofs with rails and ridges fitted to stop an avalanche of roof snow descending on you as you head off to the dairy to get a packet of tofu. 

There were also a couple of quite beautiful lakes with boats for hire and little chalets and the like. There were ski fields visible as great cleared paths down the mountains through the forest, with chair lifts, and snow plows in evidence at their bases (was that an Oxford comma?). As the train emptied out we moved a few times to improve out seating and also the conductor abandoned ship so it was just the driver left. He would take the fares at each stop as people got off, just like a bus driver. 

Even though we were towards the back of the carriage I could still hear the driver talking through his routine. The JR train driving system involves a series of pointing hand gestures accompanied with intoned statements which I presume are along the lines of 'doors clear, doors close, brakes off, time check correct, lights green, track clear etc etc' with each item being pointed to with a white gloved hand. 

Waiting for our next local train at Minami-Otari we took a brief walk to find nothing there but the road that follows the train line and so stopped at the only shop next to the station and purchased some food and drink which we consumed in the waiting room that was half chairs and little tables and half tatami mats which I took advantage of to have a very pleasant little sit, using the images of the Daibutsu in Nara and the Bosatsu in Kyoto with good effect. 

The waiting room at Minami-Otari 

Typical playground - a little dismal

The next train was a single carriage that took us through many tunnels as we burrowed through the mountains that come right down to the edge of the Sea of Japan in this part of the country. Arriving at Itoigawa our tourist info routine resulted in a new and pleasant hotel just across the road from the station, the Geopark Hotel. 

Snow Country for (not so) Old Men (& Women)

The Journey by express train to Matsumoto became progressively more rural and back country like. We passed forests and crossed rivers as we headed into a more central part of Japan. Arriving at Matsumoto (the home town of the Suzuki of Suzuki music method fame and also home to quite a lively European classical music scene) we followed what is now a bit of a routine by going to the tourist info desk and asking for a list of cheap business hotels. Matsumoto had a Toyoko-Inn, our second.  Other smallish cities / towns we have visited I found Matsumoto very pleasant and relaxed. The streets are not busy, everything is reasonably central and the pace overall is much more pleasant than Tokyo or Kyoto and presumably other cities such as Osaka and Kobe and the like that we have avoided. This suits the Slow Japan vibe.

I recall when I was teaching English in Tokyo in the 1980s that I would meet others who were working in small towns and cities and loving it. I just didn't get it. Why would you come to Japan and not be in Tokyo but in some provincial backwater? Now I get it. It would have been quite a different experience, and possibly much more enjoyable, to live and teach in Okayama or Kochi or Matsumoto or the like. 

Matsumoto really did have an Alpine feel with the temperature quite noticeably cooler than Kyoto. The streets here are very neat and, like so many other places, they have ornate and unique manhole covers as well as a lot of stone work for barriers and the like where other places might have metal. A much more aesthetic effect.

The town also has the obligatory castle (quite a nice one by the look of the pictures) and other sights but we were not really interested. Fortunately we both enjoy the travelling, as well as the arrival and departure and new places, as much or, probably more, than the sights that are at each destination. Just being in a different town is more interesting to me and, I think, to Rosemary, rather than ticking off the items in the guide book. Thinking about it, it seems odd that the accepted pattern is to plan future travel to a place to look at the past when you get there. Very odd. [insert advertisement for The Now Project here]. To say that, for example, I was excited to be in, and really enjoyed, Matsumoto, without any tangible or recordable reason may sound a little strange but it is true. I could say it is the journey and not the destination that counts, but then I would have to shoot myself after poking hot needles in my eyes for being so trite and I really don't want to do that. 

Shinkansen from Kyoto

Child seat in the men's loos

Morning with the Buddha of Compassion

Being in Kyoto had pretty much exhausted our original rough plan of where we would go and so it was decision time. We had originally veered towards the south coast of Japan in our thinking but now we thought we would head north and inland. We settled on the town of Matsumoto in the Japanese Alps which could be reached by a Shinkansen to Nagoya and an express train from there. 

This journey gave us time on our last morning in Kyoto to go to the temple complex of Kiyomizudera. First though, breakfast, which was gained by a brief walk and a bus trip to Kyoto station to eat at a self serve place we have come to like (good size coffees! There are French style cafes at most stations and elsewhere and while they can provide good coffee and pastries the coffee is served in dainty little cups that I tend to drain in two sips). 

The bus to Kiyomizudera dropped us at the foot of the hill it is built on. This necessitated a bit of a hike up, including many steps, which was a little unfair on our legs which were recovering from their jaunt down Hiei-Zan. At all the sights we have been to in Kyoto, and this was no exception, there have been masses of school children on school trips. We've seen them all lined up on Shinkansen platforms, or sitting on the ground in neat rows before entering the station listening patiently and quietly to their instructions and then yelling their affirmation or understanding in unison. This even applied to a small group of about eight girls in matching sports gear and bags that seemed to be a tennis team heading off for an overnight trip to play some rival school. They were unaccompanied but they still lined up in pairs and after a quick answer and response they boarded the train on command from their leader at the front. Just like New Zealand school kids. ROFL (roll on the futon laughing). 

"Smairu"

Kiyomizudera is (according to the guide book) Kyoto's most popular temple. Its central object of worship is a statue of the Bosatsu, the Japanese name for the Buddha of Compassion, a Buddha that I have a particular attraction to, and so I was very keen to be here. 

There are many aspects of Japanese Shinto and Buddhist religious practice that seem to me to be very Shamanic. On Hiei-Zan in one of the temples I was thrilled to be able to watch a priest performing a fire ceremony. He sat in the gloomy innards of the temple in front of a fire from which flames leapt into the air as he fed them with various fuels, chanting all the while. His movements and actions were familiar to me being the performance of a ritual for practical
rather than ceremonial purposes. Fire is important in that particular temple as it is where there are three Dharma lamps that have, apparently been lit continuously for hundreds of years (though, if you were a monk that accidentally snuffed one out you wouldn't tell, would you?). 

The Bosatsu here at Kiyomizudera did not disappoint. Again it was situated in the gloom of the depths of the temple. On the way in I had availed myself of the purifying water that is in a font before you get to the temple. Scooping the water out with a ladle you rinse each hand and, in some places, raise some to your mouth. Then in front of  the temples are incense pots where you place your stick of incense you have given a few coins for, make a prayer, wave the smoke around you and then place it in the pot. Shoes are removed before climbing onto the temple platform and here I knelt beside a pillar, facing the Bosatsu, and did my own little ritual of prayer and chant while others did theirs.

The temple where the Bosatsu is kept. 

We walked down from Kiyomizudera by a different route lined with shops, many of which hire out Kimono for the trip to the temple. The waters of the temple, after which I presume it is named, apparently have great powers and there are other attractions there as well. They include a walk through a dark vaginal entrance - yes, you read that right and not an autocorrect mistake and you couldn't get a lot more Shamanic than that - where you can assure future love etc.  We skipped these bits. 

At the foot of the hill we decided to go for a taxi which took us back to our Ryokan to fetch our luggage (where our effusive host was absent thus saving probably around $20 in waiting taxi costs) and then to the station to catch the Shinkansen to Nagoya and an express train toMatsumoto. Having a little time to wait, I managed to tick one more essential Japan food item  off my list, the chocolate parfait. 

No sight left unseen

I am not particularly regular with posting this blog. Time to write often doesn't coincide with WiFi and with quite long days recently there seems to have been little time for either. Slow Japan is also Slow to Blog. 

Today (whatever day this is, 22nd May?) we are continuing our sightseeing in Kyoto, but without the heroics. There is a cheap bus pass here that pays for itself if you take more than two trips. Nice and simple and we used it to get to Ryoanji which is the temple that is home most famous Zen garden of them all. The Ryoangibtemple complex is, like all others, made if easily combustible materials and it has suffered from destructive fires. Fortunately they now have that in hand.

We then joined the throng through the picturesque gardens and lake that lead up to the temple and we eventually found ourselves sitting on the edge of this beautiful tranquil walled garden, the wall, with its imperfections, as perfectly self-contained as the garden itself. Behind us were the large tatami mat rooms where the elite must have sat sipping sake and eating delicacies and, probably, plotting, scheming and worrying about their enemies rather than contemplating their existence through the medium of this garden.

   

The creator of the garden, and his or her purpose, is unknown. My theory is that a gardener was told 'Get rid of those bloody rocks and sweep up the gravel' and he came up with a cunning plan. 

Next stop was Kinkakuji, the golden pavilion. This place invoked fond memories for me as I was given a model to build of this temple when a youngster in Tokyo. I suspect I found it difficult, as I did model building in general, as I remember it well. 

Kinkakuji and the grounds surrounding it are ludicrously picturesque. Every shot is a postcard. It was a retirement villa for some rich noble. 'Yeah. Make it a couple of stories high, 2 bedrooms, ensuite and, oh yeah, cover the freaking thing in gold leaf'.

Between sights we had looked for somewhere to eat, settling on a cafe whose menu showed spaghetti for me and ice cream for Rosemary. To our slight disappointment and great amusement we were told by the nattily dressed proprietor, bow tie and braces, that it was an 'ice cream holiday'. We settled for green tea ice creams in a cone from a booth up the road instead. 

The bus back to our Ryokan took us through the main shopping district of Kyoto and we made a plan to return for dinner. So after a bit of a rest we headed out again to give the bus pass a good thrashing. This central part of Kyoto is very lively but with what seemed like an unusually large number of pet stores. We even passed a Cat Cafe where you can order a coffee and sit there stroking the many cats that were lounging around. At first I thought it was like one of those fish restaurants where you point to the fish you want to eat, but apparently not. So you see, even mad cat ladies can turn their obsession into a living in this place. 

Dinner was good (not in the cat cafe in case you were wondering) and we headed back to base with a good plan for the next day when we would be moving on. 

Kyoto - Where prayers are answered

Sunday morning and we set off early to get this sightseeing thing underway. We had helpful suggestions from my sister Mary and Kyoto is so full of beautiful ancient Japan it is hard to go wrong.

Not finding breakfast near our Ryokan we jumped on the subway, getting off a couple of stops closer to our destination and discovering, as we had hoped, breakfast options. We chose a small cafe where the round tables were the size of a medium to small pizza, with minimal seating room.

Japan teaches humility and self-containment. You are constantly having to confine yourself, even to diminish yourself, to avoid creating nuisance and chaos around you. Brashness just doesn't work. You learn to stand in crowded buses and trains, pressed up against others all around but in a way that minimises interference with their personal space. We've walked through countless crowded streets and station concourses and I have been bumped into properly twice, both times by other foreigners.

Breakfast finished we caught a bus which took us up to Hiei-Zan, or Mount Hiei. Clearly in anticipation of the difficulty it would cause tourists in the future, many of Kyoto's attractions are built on the hills that surround the city. Hiei-Zan is a series of temples and the bus drops you at the highest and you work your way down to where a cable car can take the sensible tourists down to the mountain foot.

On Hiei-Zan

We had a little insight into the religious establishment at one of the temples where daily rituals are held honouring ancestors. There were a couple of priests / monks waiting at a side entrance and then very well polished black limousine with a gold chrysanthemum badge on its grill pulled up, the driver jumped out to get the door, someone came rushing for the other door, and a couple of fully regaled priests got out. No simple monks here.

Waiting for the man

After view a few of the temples we decided to head off. There is a cable car that can take you down but being (ex in my case) Wellingtonians we weren't interested and began to walk down the wide concrete path. I was sure that, like everywhere else in a few hundred metres there would be a rest stop, souvenir shops and probably a bus stop to take you the rest of the way down the mountain.

Still thinking it was a short pleasant walk...

Remember when a day or two ago we had prayed for a challenge? Well, the gods were about to have some fun. As we proceeded down we noticed exhausted looking people coming the other way. It was steep but I was privately scoffing at their lack of fitness. After all, how could a few hundred metres of concrete driveway be that hard? Then the concrete gave way to gravel and dirt. Looking back it was very steep and we didn't want to do any unnecessary climbing up hill so we pressed on.

Well, the gravel and dirt gave way to just dirt, then it became, effectively,  a steep rocky stream bed with fist size rocks and great gouges out of the earth where the water, which I am sure comes down I great torrents in the rainy season, had had its way. This was not easy going for anyone and although we passed a few people going up, no one else was going down except one man who was training for his forthcoming hiking trip in the alps.  Rosemary had her walking stick and I was able to help her by holding her other arm. Stopping to get my bearings I let go and a few seconds later she tripped and went flat on her back, bumping her head. We pressed on.  A couple of hours (yes hours!) later we came out at the bottom where paving resumed. We then caught a bus to the nearest station, a train bad to Kyoto central and a taxi to our Ryokan.

Although it might embarrass her I have to say that I thought Rosemary was amazing. Despite having a sore head (she now has a minor but painful whiplash), it being very hot (in the high 20°s), and having to scramble, albeit slowly, down this precipice, her willingness and good humour did not fail. I worried that I might have to get help or carry her or similar and was sure that our trip would be suspended for a day or two while she, and me to an extent, recovered. However, after a rest while I shot off to do the washing at a coin laundry, she was ready to go out to what had become our local for a plum wine and the next day we were back on the trail. Amazing. Slow Japan is clearly about doing what you can at the pace you can and making the most of every moment (some more pleasant than others!).

Kyoto - arrival

It seems to that the success of our holiday so far is not only slow Japan but unplanned Japan. A few days ago I was worried we might struggle to get accomodation in touristy Kyoto, particularly arriving on the weekend when the Japanese have the audacity to see the sights in their own country. I spent quite a time looking online and it was tedious, confusing and unproductive so I just gave up. As it turned out, this was clearly the best thing to do.

We duly arrived in Kyoto after a pleasant train trip from Matsuyama on the island of Shikoku along its northern coast.

Take the fast train to Kyoto
I'll meet you at the station ...

At Okayama we had 15 minutes to get to the Shinkansen which leaves from a different set of platforms entirely. 5 minutes after our train arrived we were sitting in our reserved seats. Cursing the drama free efficient nature of this place - travel is about adventure after all - we jokingly again wished for some real challenge. As always on this pilgrims' journey of ours, our prayers were to be answered, this time by the next day.

Kyoto station is new, huge and busy. We left the station and started approaching likely hotels. They cost over twice what we have been paying and so we returned to the station and found the tourist information office to ask about business hotels like and the like. Even they were too expensive and we contemplated the need to break the budget. Then the helpful (of course) lady wandered off and after a while came back with a leaflet for a ryokan (Japanese style accomodation) which she offered apologetically, noting its Japanese floor sleeping and shared bathroom. We accepted and headed off in a taxi, our first on this trip.

Rosemary's priority in Kyoto was to walk the small canal side alleys that exist in this city still, with their little lanes and old style housing.  So, of course that is exactly where our accomodation was, right in the middle of such an area.

Our host was effusive to an extreme. And I mean extreme. Like Basil Fawlty fawning over the suspected hotel inspector but times ten. I can not do him justice in print other than to say that his obsessive compulsive welcoming and greeting was such that we immediately began strategising how to come and go without encountering him. We have failed at this as, after all, he has home court advantage. One benefit of an OCD host (I would be most surprised if he was not genuinely diagnosable as this) is extreme order and cleanliness. If you can get over your slippers being tidied away before you've taken them both off then this is a bonus.

After a rest we took a walk around where we were staying ending up in a nearby small restaurant for some food and, for Rosemary, plum wine.

Leaving Shikoku

Our plan was to leave Shikoku via the city of Matsuyama in the northwest corner of the island. The standard way to have done this would be to retrace our steps on an express train from Kochi. However, we wanted to explore the west coast and so this meant a ride of about an hour to Kubokawa, a 2 1/2 hour stop there and then a 2 hour slow train to Uwajima, changing there after half an hour for the final 1 1/2 hours to Matsuyama.

Kubokawa was a small town whose claim to fame is that it is on one of the few undammed rivers in the country. We walked a little found a lovely temple where there was the usual procession of Shikoku pilgrims. We sat inside the temple for a while and a group of woman, and one young girl, came in, went to the alter, made various offerings and the began a chanting session that went on for some time. They then proceeded to the next building in the complex where they repeated the ritual, mixed in at times with the individual or group prayer chanting of the pilgrims.

Pilgrim at Kubokawa

Boddhisatva for babies?

I wasn't completely sure about our local train option but what a delight it turned out to be. The local train was a single carriage with inward facing bench seats and 5 or six people on board. One asleep stretched out on the seats with her shoes neatly on the floor in front of her and another a trainspotter with a camera. The track followed the Kubokawa river (I think it was that) and often we were perched high above it going through the trees and occasional tunnel. Slowly. Often at 40km/hr (I could see the speedometer in the drivers cab) and mainly not faster than 60km/hr. Stations were tiny platforms among a few houses and rarely did anyone get off or on. After an hour we stopped at a station and all got out and stretched our legs, then back on the train for the next part. Towards the end of the ride groups of school kids began to get on and by the end the train was packed.

We both thoroughly enjoyed the ride it was just what we had been looking for, a slow cruise through rural Japan on a local train with spectacular scenery. At one station there was a huge rope or wire strung right across the wide river and secured high on the hill beyond. From it flew dozens of large Koi kites, their mouths gaping in the breeze that kept them afloat in the air. These are traditionally flown for boys day.

The rest of the trip by express train was comfortable but more mundane in comparison and we arrived in Matsuyama, found a hotel next to the station and were given a large room overlooking the square and the station itself. A good day's travelling.

Kochi

We liked Okayama, but then we have pretty much liked everywhere we have been. From Okayama we headed South to the Island of Shikoku. Visiting here has been one constant in our planning for no reason, I think, other than we have not been before. Our destination is Kochi, the city at the south side of the Island which you enter from the north crossing a bridge from the mainland. Below the bridge I noticed rips and eddies and all manner of sea current goings on, later reading that here, where seas meet, is known for its turbulence.

The train then enters the hills and mountains of central Shikoku. More rural and occasionally wild than the mainland. We are travelling on a comfortable express train, the Nanpu. All the express services seem to have names. We are given reserved seats with our passes but I have noticed when we get to the platform there is a bustling and queuing at the appointed spot for the non-reserved carriages as people line up to get good seats. Slightly unnecessary given that the trains are half empty. Our reserved carriage is usually filled with older or business like passengers who are happy or able to pay the extra cost for reservation. Only recently did it occur to me that we might see and meet a different sector of Japan if we sat unreserved (all sorts of word play possible here - go for your life). Our situation is a bit like relying on the people you meet in the Koru Lounge to set you straight about real New Zealand. Who could be arrogant enough to do that?

Kochi is where a hotel clerk found us a room elsewhere after we declined her hotel due to price. Our hotel was a small hike from the station, including a bridge crossing. My guess is that Kochi is  an ex delta and the rivers and channels that run through it, and there are many of them, are a result of containment and reclamation.

After checking in to the hotel we had a chat and Rosemary went down to book another night. Our first two nights in one place. The room comes with a complementary drink in the restaurant in the evening and breakfast with n the morning. Our waitress for the drink had her face coated in the white face paint I associate with Geisha. To be honest, the effect was actually slightly alarming. For the morning breakfast service her face was back au naturelle.

Two things stand out for me from Kochi. The first was Godaisan, the Temple and garden complex that is in the hills above Kochi and which you access on a half-price for foreigners bus pass that can then take you out to the coast and back into the city by a different route.

The ride up to Godaisan provides great views of the town and rivers but the temple itself was lovely with many little shrines and the like and hundreds of boddhisatva statues, all dressed with little hats and/or capes and situated between the trees. We sat for a while and could hear the occasional gong and the jingle of the bells on the walking sticks of the pilgrims who dress in white and travel between each of the 88 temples on the island. I enjoy this side of Japan very much.

The other noteworthy aspect of Kochi was the nightlife. At 9pm electronic airport like bells chime and the city turns to night mode marked by the ceasing of the crossing signal sounds which are ubiquitous and persistent. We had our windows open and during the evening there were bursts of Karaoke and shouting and laughing. A boisterousness that is entirely absent in the day. This went on all night (although not in a disturbing way) and looking out the window after 5 in the morning I saw two women and a man, arm in arm, weaving their way down the street and across the road, ignoring the lights (what?!), and the traffic (even more what!?), talking and laughing loudly. This is the famous Jekyl and Hyde nature of the Japanese as perceived from the outside. Orderly and reserved during the day and then, adding alcohol, boisterous and outgoing at night.

Dinner both nights was at a cafeteria style restaurant where you buy the components of you meal individually. There were people of all ages, school kids through to elderly, families and people on their own. There is even a row of tables for woman only, designated by different coloured chairs which, of course, we were sitting in as we slowly tried to translate the sign that was telling us we were breaking the rules.

Kochi is a much slower city than even Okayama. The sky is blue and clear and at this time of year the weather is perfect.

Japan Easy

Japan must be one of the most benign countries to travel in. It is ridiculously easy really. I could speculate about why this is. There seem to be obvious reasons such as the homogeneity of the people, the structured nature of the society etc, however, I am learning that it is really foolish to seek to understand Japan on a superficial level. So, how is Japan so benign?

Rail Travel: Ridiculously easy. With a rail pass, even more ridiculously easy. Everything is in English, on time, clean, orderly. There is a quick and accurate English online route planner site (see WiFi below). The position of the train doors are marked on the platform. Numerous boards display all the details you need to know. Outside of the Tokyo commuter system the trains have not been full at all. The trains themselves usually display each station, often in English (and Korean). The ticket guys seem to understand even our unusual route requests immediately and produce little (good for the pocket) tickets with train name, departure and arrival stations and times, often together with a printout of transfer times, platforms etc. Or, in 'remoter' areas such as we are now, handwritten notes with this helpful additional information. Buses and trams also run on time, have copious information displayed  and have patient and helpful drivers, and passengers. Stations and platforms are loaded with packaged food and drink for the trip if you want it and in case you missed out the longer trips have a service cart that comes through the train.

WiFi: Everywhere and easily accessible in most train stations, cafes and restaurants and certainly in the hotels. Lots of free WiFi hot spots in general and a helpful app to fine them all. There are also some easy mobile WiFi options if you want to buy a temporary device for your travels

Helpfulness:  Now we are into the really ridiculous part. Helpful doesn't do it. Our worst experiences in seeking help have resulted in people politely and patiently doing their best to help us and, generally, succeeding. Past that it is simply above and beyond. Like the courier girl in Tokyo who was asked by the guy we asked for directions and then got her phone out, found our destination and walked two blocks with us while leaving her courier motorbike running on the side of the road; or the information guy who tracked us down at a station to update the advice he had given us earlier; or the hotel check in lady in a hotel that was too expensive for us who found one that wasn't, phoned them and made a reservation etc.; or the bus passengers who, after I had chased a bus down (racing behind it along the street and with my lack on my back) and boarded it at the lights when I thought I had left my glasses on it, all started looking around their own seats for, whatever, when they realised I was looking for something, even though they were in a totally different part of the bus and had no idea what I was looking for. (My glasses weren't on the bus but in my pack).

Clean: Ridiculously clean. I've noticed that there are few public rubbish tins but still the place is virtually litter free, both in the city parts and the suburban or country parts. In towns it seems smoking in public is banned with designated smoking spots where smokers congregate to puff away urgently while looking at their phones. And if you need further evidence of cleanliness, then this => I saw an old woman walking her dog. She carried a plastic bag like we do. The dog stopped to poo, like dogs do (forgive pun please - sumimasen [see below]). Then, unlike us, the lady rushed up and placed the bag under the dog's butt to catch whatever came out. Lucky it was a small dog as she did not look that strong. This is the home of the Japanese fighting Tosa dogs down here in southern Shikoku, which are quite big, and so it could have been much worse.

Language: my father's experience in Japan would indicate that it is possible to get by with 3 words, left, right and straight ahead, all useful for a taxi. More fluent speakers such as myself can get by on about 8 words. If you chose the right ones you can combine them and, as long as you say them them with a sufficiently quizzical or other appropriate expression, you will elicit the required helpful result (see above). In fact, it is possible to get by in Japan with one word: sumimasen - meaning excuse me. Add quizzical expressions etc to this word with copious pointing at clues on maps or signs etc and chances are you will get a broken but adequate English response. And if you want have a crack at the language then this has to be the only country in the world where people routinely speak clearly and, relatively slowly. This is not just during announcements or at information kiosks. I have eavesdropped on the occasional intra-Jap (hand up if you cringed at 'Jap', I did and I wrote it) conversation and the language remains relatively clear. I am sure that there are enormous variations and dialects and accents, but public spoken Japanese is beginner friendly.

In fact, overall our travelling has all been so easy and straightforward that Rosemary and I joke about trying to make challenges for ourselves. I suggested getting up and leaving our passports behind but that was stupid as it would only result in at least one person pursuing us trying to restore them to us, probably along with an apology for disturbing us in the process.

But there is an exception. Toilets. Yes, that old bugbear, toilets in Asia. But not the usual problems, these are worse. Here, toilets are terrifying. They are, predominantly, western style and have more technology connected to them than you could reasonably expect when having a dump on the International Space Station. In addition to the seat (frequently warmed) and cistern they usually have an extended armrest type thing with an array of what can only be called irrigation options and, well, God knows what else. I'm too terrified to experiment. Public toilets frequently have hands free flushing where you wave your hand near a pad on the wall. (This caused a minor hiccup in a hotel room when I used the wall pad which turned out to be an alarm instead of the ordinary flush lever that this toilet had). Women's toilets can have a baby seat attached to the wall so the young one can watch mum pee (I know this directly having been encouraged into the ladies to look by a very impressed and socially indifferent mother of my own).  Some toilets also begin a trickle flush when you sit down, presumably to avoid the humiliation of another human being discovering that you make noise when you pee. One particularly alarming occasion involved a toilet whose lid slowly gaped opened when you opened the door to the toilet, like a hungry Hippopotomus that was daring you to make waste in its mouth. In hotels there are an array of hand wash options in pump action bottles, or at least I thought there were until I realised I had been washing my hands with hair conditioner (no knots or tangles in the hair on the back of my hands!)

Nara to Okayama

We are now at the part of our plan where we head down to Shikoku, one of the main islands that make up Japan. Looking at the maps it was clearly possible to do this in one journey but it would be quite a long day and it was time to go even slower.  So we decided to go as far as the town of Okayama. This required a couple of local trains to get us to Shin Osaka station where we could get the Shinkansen to Okayama. The plan was to arrive in Okayama and either stay there or take a local train to the possibly more picturesque locations nearby. 

Housework can't take long 

Arriving at Okayama we wandered around the station looking for food and eventually found what we wanted - a Teishoku restaurant where you pay for your meal through a machine that swallows your yen and responds when you tap the picture of the meal you want. Teishoku is simply a meal on a tray comprising your chosen main portion and little dishes with rice, tofu, pickles, miso and other things. 

The famous story character, Momotaro, and one of his desciples

Crouching Pigeon, Patient Monkey

Earlier Rosemary had found a list of cheap hotels and rather than traipsing around we went to the information office and asked them to phone for us, ending up with a booking at a Toyoko Inn hotel. 

Street near our hotel wi everyone going to work or school

Toyoko Inn is chain of business hotels throughout Japan and overseas. Like the Super Hotel Lohas in Nara there were two of them, one more expensive than the other. We were in the cheap one. Arriving get at the hotel I noticed a commemorative poster recording the Guinness World Record for the largest hotel chain to be 100% occupied over a 24 hour period. 

We had arrived at 3pm and they have a strict policy of 4pm check in. We gave them our bags to store with the intention of exploring Okayama before returning to our room but when we sat at the lobby tables that, in the morning, double as the breakfast restaurant, to plan our,excursion we decided we had done enough. There was Internet and 4pm rolled around soon enough. 

The room was spacious with opening windows and separate and huge (for Japan) bathroom and toilet. It was only later that it dawned on me that we must have been in an 'accessible' room, thus all the low handles and alarm cords and buttons (one of which I managed to push when trying to flush the toilet). 

I was a bit surprised to find that there is much done here for those with disabilities. The raised lines and bumps on the footpaths for the blind are everywhere and I saw a few blind people walking solo using them. Here they are continuous, not just reserved for intersections and corners. Wheel chair access is ubiquitous and I saw a school boy in uniform in a wheelchair heading off, presumably to school. Later on as we walked through a small park I noticed that it was being tended to by a group of men and women who were [whatever the non-pejorative term is for those who, as kids, we called Mongols, a word that, given my admiration for the achievements of Genghis Khan and his descendants, I would today consider a substantial complement].