DAY 15
Wednesday 12th May
Himeji
The day starts with a hunt for an ATM, a necessary task that had been preying on our minds for a while. For such a technologically advanced nation, Japan has a woefully inadequate banking system, and cash machines are virtually non-existent (even in the bigger cities). As the funds run low, the tension mounts. As the crime rate is so low in Japan, it's not uncommon for people to carry hundreds of pounds' worth of Yen in their wallets- as we had been doing for the past two weeks. Eventually we find the machine and make our withdrawals.
We had planned to make a day-trip to Himeji, an hour's train journey west of
Kyoto, to visit the famous castle. On arrival, we leave the station onto a long
high street, and pause for a moment in wonder. Dominating the far end of the
street is the magnificent Himeji Castle. Perched high above the ground, the
castle is supposed to resemble a bird in flight, but I fancy this is a stretch
of the imagination too far- regardless, it truly is an impressive sight. The
white walls gleam against the flawless blue sky; perfect weather for
photography. At the castle grounds, we buy tickets that allow access to both the
castle and the nearby gardens. As we explore the living quarters and donjon
interior, we observe many similarities to Western castles- curtain walls, arrow
loops, murder holes and so on. The striking difference is in the appearance of
the castle itself. Most Western fortifications are sombre, utilitarian affairs,
built solely for practicality. Himeji, in contrast, is a more joyful and
graceful creation- but the formidable castle base, built with massive boulders,
prove that it was not a castle to be taken likely (which, indeed, it never was-
to quote the Himeji Castle pamphlet, ' Fortunately the castle has never been
involved with the evil of ill war').
Walking through the squeaky wood-panelled living quarters, we find an odd sign, which read: 'No Eating. No Drinking. No Scribbles.' Fair enough.
Yet again we become entangled with classes of schoolgirls (this must be beginning to sound suspect, but it's actually near impossible not to- every tourist attraction we visited was stuffed to bursting with pupils). Strangely enough, we very rarely see any schoolboys- must be playing baseball or something. Anyway, after a thorough exploration of the castle we head to the nearby Himeji Gardens, a tranquil place (if not mind-bogglingly exciting). Small gardens sub-divided by tile-topped mud walls demonstrate the Japanese affection for harmonious landscaping.
Back at Kyoto, we decide that the Imperial Palace deserves a second chance- the evening was pleasantly balmy, far better than our last rain-drenched visit. Regrettably the walls are as uninspiring as the first time and, facing the prospect of being eaten alive by clouds of ravenous midges, we retreat back to the city streets.
As it was our last night in Kyoto, we decided that for our evening meal we ought to push the boat out. So we went fishing. No, not really- but second best: earlier on in the day we'd spotted a sushi bar in Kyoto station, so we resolved to give it a go.
Poking our heads timidly around the front door of Musashi restaurant, we are
soon spotted and escorted to a couple of recently vacated seats. The central
space of the room is dominated by a long rectangular conveyor-belt, around which
the stools are placed. The atmosphere is jovial and lively. We seat ourselves
down and, in between poring over the menu, observe the chefs working silently
and efficiently inside the conveyor belt. They constantly top up the belt with
food, rolling small balls of rice, using a thumb to press a dab of Wasabi
(Horseradish) into it, placing fish in the centre and then wrapping the lot up
in seaweed. These tasty morsels then sail round the belt, like luggage at an
airport baggage collection point, until someone grabs it. It takes us a few
minutes to pluck up the courage to take something- well, we weren't sure whether
they were destined for certain people! The menu turns out to be for making
'special requests'- I try Conger Eel on rice, which was delicious. After ten
minutes or so we're looking like hardened professionals, grabbing plate after
plate, without a clue about exactly what we were eating. Certainly an evening
for experimentation. However, we are soundly shown up for the pretenders we are
by a guy who sat next to Paul, scoffed eight plates of food, and left within
five minutes- we'd been there for ten, and were only on our second plate! At the
end the empty plates are totted up, different colours relating to different
prices, though the average was 120 Yen (60p) per plate- incredibly cheap for
such healthy, convenient eating. It's how fast food should be- a combination of
efficiency and gluttony.
DAY 16
Thursday 13th May
Miyajima
Our three days in Kyoto were over, and we prepared to set off back to Emma's house in Kubota. The little old lady at Matsubaya Ryokan bids us a fond farewell, presenting us with little fabric wallets and Matsubaya towels as a leaving present, and we all bow to each other at the doorstep as we leave. It was a nice little place, and I'll miss the fun of nodding furiously to her quick babbling as though I understood every word. In fact, one of the things I learned during the holiday was how much you can understand by body language alone.
On our return journey to Kyushu we have a sight too important to pass by- the island of Miyajima.
On a hot, clear morning, we begin the day with a wander around the architecturally stunning Kyoto Station, a labyrinthine construction of girders at mad angles and endless flights of escalators. At the end of one of these escalators stood a young girl, presumably station staff. She was holding a sponge against the moving handrail to cleanse it of all those nasty germs. This is the nation that invented Walkmans; Tamagotchis; Playstations; football- playing bipedal robots. And they need to employ girls to hold sponges against handrails. What- is a self-cleansing escalator too much of a challenge?!
At 8:20 a.m. we board our train to Hiroshima, where we change for another
service to Miyajima. On arrival, the brolleys come out again as rain begins to
pound the streets. Miyajima is an island situated off the south-western coast of
Honshu, near Hiroshima. It claims to have one of the most frequently
photographed sights in Japan, a 'floating' Torii gate positioned in front of the
spectacular Itsukushima temple. Of course, the Torii doesn't actually float; but
is anchored to the seabed with sturdy supports. At high tide, the water
completely surrounds it. Indeed, as we roll towards the island on the ferry, the
gate in the distance does appear to rise from the waters- though it is difficult
to tell through the bursts of squally showers. A closer inspection reveals that
we had arrived at an unfortunate time. The tide is well out, revealing the
sludge-stained pillars and muddy bed, lessening the impact. The damp, dreary
afternoon doesn't help much either. However, the sheer scale of the gate alone
is enough to impress, regardless of the conditions. We wander out to the gate,
avoiding the rapidly forming puddles on the sandy shore, to get close-up photos.
The nearby temple featured walkways based on stilts, so that when the tide is in, the building itself appears to float also. How much more impressive it could have been if we had been there at the right time!
Little signs dotted around advise caution when dealing with the island's (in)famous inhabitants- tame deer. The ones with antlers are especially to be avoided, as they are bad-tempered or something. One of the deer attempts to make a snack of Paul's camera strap. An hour or so later, our sightseeing done, we continue our journey home- so back on the train to Hiroshima, and another back west to Hakata, Saga and then finally Kubota. A leisurely walk through the fields finishes off the day nicely.
That evening, being slightly drained of energy and in no mood to cook, we head off to 'Joyfull' again. This time I order a mixed grill, which must have been unremarkable because I can't actually remember what it consisted of. I think the one sausage provided covered the 'grill' aspect. The 'mixed' bit probably referred to the quality.
DAY 17
Friday 14th May
Saga
Things were drawing to a close, so in between our frequent bouts of packing, Paul and I decide to kill a bit of time by exploring Saga.
Saga was, as Emma had forewarned us, not a massively exciting place. We wandered around the streets looking for something to interest us, but nothing happened. The one thing that caught my eye was an off-licence called, in big bold letters, 'BOOZE'. No beating around the bush there. Paul was concerned for a time about having to buy stamps at the post office, and the potential communication difficulties that would ensue. But he hadn't banked upon the power of the Magic Word. Showing the postcards to the woman behind the counter, he uttered the word 'Igirisu' (England), and instantly she responded by handing over the correct amount of stamps. No worries. I tell you, you can go far in Japan with this word alone.
That really was about it. A remarkable day in that it was fairly unremarkable, especially in comparison with the past two weeks. Still, there was packing to be done and people to see. We returned to 'Moyiyama' (the indoor-barbecue restaurant), and met up with Sarah again, and another of Emma's friends, Claire. Afterwards, a few beers in a Yakitori pub opposite Kubota station rounds off the day, and for a while takes my mind off our departure the next day.