DAY 4

Saturday 1st May

Aso

Up early in the morning to catch a train to Kumamoto, a town on the western shore of Kyushu- a flying visit to validate our rail passes. This rail pass turns out to be our passport to rail travel all over Japan, and pretty much indispensable for the traveller. For around £250 we have access to almost any train in Japan, even the Shinkansen (Bullet train). During the course of the holiday we must have gotten our money's worth- even if not in monetary terms, but in the amount of time saved not having to queue at the ticket booths.

From Kumamoto, we take a local train to Aso, a collection of villages sat in the caldera of an ancient, massive volcano. Our journey unfortunately coincides with the start of Golden Week, a five-day national holiday, where it seems everybody in Japan swarms from the cities to visit the favourite holiday spots. Think five bank holiday Mondays in a row. Our little train grinds its way up the crater rim, reversing directions twice, to make a zigzag up the steep face. We must have half of Kyushu in our ramshackle little train, and I begin to envy the luxurious life of the sardine. Paul does a passable impression of a coat-stand as he holds various items for a laden-down mother with two kids. Even in the midst of the mayhem, the ticket inspector still finds time to doff his cap and bow to the passengers each time he enters or leaves a carriage. I like this little touch of respect and I see it often on our various rail journeys.

1:45 p.m.

Arrived at Aso, relieved to see the back of the travelling sardine can, and perused our map. That night we stay at a Youth Hostel, which I view with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. The last time I'd stayed in any accommodation resembling a YH was back on a school trip to Wales, and the repressed memory of plastic bed-sheets float worryingly into my mind. We take a taxi, drop our bags off, and meet the owners- an elderly lady, and a middle-aged woman who I presumed was her daughter. They advise us firmly and repeatedly to take the bus up to the crater RIGHT AWAY, almost as soon as we'd dropped our backpacks. I'm not sure whether this was just friendly advice, or an attempt to get us out of their hair for a bit. They seemed pretty adamant about it. Still, we were raring to go anyway, so we took an exploratory route through the trees and hills. The general ambience, plus the knackering uphill slog, seemed to send my mind off on a tangent and I ended up composing poems (as you do). Here's my impromptu Haiku:

'In the wilderness
I go in search of myself
But find emptiness.'

Ha! Haiku master!

At the end of the path we find a main road, and wait at a nearby bus stop for a service to the pinnacle of Aso. Winding our way up the steep sides, we arrive at the Aso volcano museum, but decide against entering because it's a bit steep (the price, that is, not the museum). Leaving the building, I seem to make a couple of Japanese tourists' day by holding the door open for them. They positively beam with delight at this seemingly innocuous gesture. Door-holding seems to evoke strange responses in Japan; sometimes the gesture is met with slight worry and hesitation, or the person scuttles through the doorway half- apologetically, saying 'excuse me!' as if they've lumbered me with some unforgivable burden. Maybe they're just unsettled by my big foreign mug grinning at them.

We wander around the foothills of the volcano, which can be seen smoking ominously a mile or so away. Visitors take donkey rides around the lakes, and I am amused by the sight of one young donkey-handler, leading his passenger- bearing steed around the course, with his head down, furiously texting on his mobile. (It's not uncommon to see people cycling on the pavement whilst composing text messages to friends. I guess that when they don't pay enough attention it gives the word WAP a whole new meaning.)

A short bus journey later and it's back to the Youth Hostel to freshen up, drop off bags and head down into town. We visit the 'East' Coffee House, and I sample the delights of 'Kare Raisu' (Curry Rice) for the first time. It's exactly as it sounds really. The curry sauce is Chinese chip-shop style, so although not exactly authentic Indian; it's good all the same. Just as the night gets going (i.e. we contemplate a second pint), we have to head back to the YH- they're pretty strict on closing times. There's a 9:00 p.m. curfew when people have to be back, and at 10:00 p.m. it's lights out, no nonsense. Sounds more Youth Hostile than Youth Hostel- but as everyone's pretty knackered, and there are precious few late-night diversions in Aso Town, an early night is gracefully accepted.

Before we go to bed, we sit and drink in the communal living room. The elderly woman watches wrestling and baseball on the widescreen TV. Her husband stands by a small table near to the doorway. Above the table, pinned to the wall, is a huge piece of white cloth painted with the main walking routes around Aso and the volcanic peaks. On the table are spread collections of beautiful photos, which (presumably) he had taken, and he proudly shows them to us. One of them is taken from an angle that we can't quite work out from the map. Noting our confusion, he points to one of the painted peaks, and tries to gesticulate the origin from which he took it.

'Ushiro?' (Behind?), I ask, pointing to the mountain.

The old man nods, lifts up the cloth map and peers on the other side, chuckling.

Paul and I share our room with six members of a Japanese biker gang, who turn up at 8:30 p.m. Uh-oh, we think. By 9:00 p.m. they're tucked up in bed, reading. Not exactly the Hell's Angels.

DAY 5

Sunday 2nd May

Aso

An early start as we pull on our boots and prepare for a full day's walking. From Aso town's central bus terminal (once we'd finally located it), we took a bus up to Asosan Nishiguchi (South Exit), at the peak of Aso. On the way we pass a bear sanctuary, the fantastically named 'Cuddly Dominion.'

The 'Skyline' cable car at Aso summit runs from the terminal right up to Nakadake (Middle Peak), the only active volcano left of the five that comprise Aso. Concrete bunkers are dotted all around, in case of a sudden burst of violence from the crater. I'm not sure whether I find this reassuring or more worrying. The wind howls across the barren landscape, and the occasional squall of rain has the tourists delving into bags for rain macs.

From the lip of Nakadake, cordoned off by plastic mock-wooden fences, we could see the bubbling and churning mud at the crater base. This is the nearest I've been to an active volcano, and hopefully the nearest I'll ever get. The gale- force wind tries its best to make our meeting a little more intimate, but we sensibly back away from the edge and continue on our way.

In the mood for a little mountaineering, we take the Sunasenri route to the base of Mount Takadake. An apparently sheer face of rock confronts us. The weather is volatile; with the cloud appearing light at times, but occasionally thickening rapidly and obscuring any view of the top. We agonise for a while about whether this is actually a good idea or not, when we see a couple of Japanese climbers approaching, having just descended the mountain. Emma asks in Japanese how the going is. One of the climbers responds by miming a frantic scrabble on hands and knees. Not good then.

After fortifying ourselves with sweets and 'O-nigiri' (rice balls wrapped in Nori seaweed), we begin our ascent. White arrows are painted onto various rocks, pointing out the different routes to be taken. The weird lunar landscape and low, dark clouds make me feel as though I'm walking through Mordor. Once we get going it's clear that while by no means an easy path, it's not as difficult as we first feared. In some places some real rock-climbing action is necessary as we clamber over, around and through ranks of huge boulders, searching for handholds. A girl with a yellow jacket, who I vaguely recognise from the Youth Hostel, passes us and disappears into the gloom.

Eventually we reach the top of Takadake and stop to look around. We see very little apart from fast-moving grey cloud. This is probably just as well; the occasional tears in the cloud reveal tiny fields and houses far below, and the sense of vertigo becomes slightly unsettling.

After a good three hours of scrambling about in semi-blindness, being scoured and sandblasted by grit whipped up by near gale-force winds, we reach Higashi- guchi (East exit) ropeway. It was, however, closed due to the high winds, and we had to settle for a long descent via hundreds of steps. Still, we were going downwards. You should have seen the faces on those going upwards.

We arrive tired and hungry at the car park of the lower ropeway terminal- but looking back towards the towering mountains, I felt a good sense of achievement. Having decided that we'd not quite taken enough punishment yet, we amble down the road leading from the ropeway, through rolling green foothills. We arrive at Miyaji, where I get my camera prepared just too late to take a photo of a huge steam train passing by. At Miyaji station we board a train back to Aso- the past five or six hours have been spent either walking or climbing, and consequently we are all pretty bushed. Somehow, through all the thick cloud, we all manage to catch the sun and I spend the next three days bearing a big red face, which I'm sure amused the locals.

That evening, following a shower and change of clothes, Paul and myself sit in the living room, relaxing. We see the girl with the yellow jacket return.

'How did you get on?' we ask.
She smiles wearily.

We get chatting about the day's adventure, and when Emma arrives, we invite the girl to join us for tea. Her name is Florine, a Parisian who had been on a home- stay scheme in Japan, and was cutting loose for a bit of travelling. I say a bit- at the 'East' Coffee House, she shows us her map of Japan. Virtually all of the major city names and tourist attractions are highlighted in green pen. For a girl travelling alone through Japan, she didn't half cover some ground, and I can't help but be impressed- and it gives me some hope that getting around Japan can't be too difficult.