Okinawa

August 30, 2016

My time in Japan was coming to an end. School was long done. I had enjoyed a long hot summer, wandering the city, drinking farewell’s with many a new lifelong friend, and even taking a trip to Hiroshima and Kobe. I had moved out of the dorm, but still had a couple of weeks left before I had to leave the country, which left plenty of time for one last adventure . . . to Okinawa!

沖縄　Okinawa

Having grown up in Florida and being somewhat accustomed to, and a fan of, tropical locales, Okinawa was always on my list of things to do in Japan. So after moving out of the dorm, I met up with my then girlfriend to spend a few days around Kyoto and Osaka before heading out to KIX to board another Peach Airlines flight to that tropical destination of my dreams.

As our plane approached the airport I was shocked by just how big the city looked from the air. I had thought of Okinawa as a small- to medium-sized island with a small city, lots of military bases, and a ton of tropical sandy beaches. Naha, and the conglomeration of cities around it, was huge, dense, and sprawled out in every direction covering most of what we could see of the island, though it was interlaced throughout with jungle-green patches of forest. When we landed, we took a bus from our plane to the main terminal and took a taxi to our hotel.

国際通り　Kokusai-dori

The hotel, Hotel Palm Royal, was just off of Kokusai-dori, Naha’s main shopping and entertainment avenue—right in the middle of it all! We quickly settled in and rushed out to explore. Kokusai-dori (“International Street”) was noisy and lively; metcha nigiyaka one might say in Japanese. Along the palm-lined boulevard were loads of shops, restaurants, bars and entertainment, and branching off of the main drag were several massive shōtengai, shopping arcades, and as always, the place was teeming with tourists and shoppers.

The first thing that caught our eye was a colorful gelateria where we just had to get some yummy gelato. After that we wandered around, taking in all the dazzling sights and sounds. One giant souvenir shop was jam packed with crazy statues of superheroes, space aliens, and iconic personages, including a huge grinning shark with a Tweety Bird sitting in its mouth.

(Remember to click on an image to get a closer look!)

A view from our hotel room window. Naha was a BIG city!

Kokusai-dori

A gelateria.

An eye-popping spectacle of a souvenir shop

Some cool graffiti in the shotengai.

My burgeoning aloha shirt collection. I bought the green one there on Kokusai-dori.

We stopped for dinner where we ate taco rice, an Okinawan take on American tacos invented after the war to cater to American tastes. It’s taco stuff, but on white rice instead of a taco shell. It was pretty good! I bought an “aloha” shirt to add to my collection. These shirts seemed to be a big deal there; even the business men wore aloha shirts as their work attire.

Finally, we stopped at Kokusai Food Street Village, a food court venue designed to resemble a backstreet collection of izakayas, where we sampled the local specialty, Habu-shū—snake wine! It’s not as gross as it sounds. It was really just like a whiskey and water on the rocks. No worries, mates. It did make me feel all warm and fuzzy for a minute, though! Meanwhile, diners crowded the small eateries, drinking and conversing while traditional Okinawan shamisen music played on speakers.

Kokusai Food Street Village

Habu-shu, “snake wine,” on display at a gift store.

An ice-cold glass of habu-shu.

A view of our hotel from Kokusai Food Street Village.

首里城　Shuri Castle

The next day we went out to visit Shuri Castle, Naha’s principle historic point of interest. We started off with a little exploration of the city on the way. The backstreets of Naha are colorful and filled with greenery, and the buildings have that aged tropical look of structures that have withstood decades of weathering under a hot sun and torrential rain.

We stopped at an adorable cafe on a sleepy, sun-drenched street for a light lunch. After that we made our way back to the Okinawa Urban Monorail station. The monorail track towered above the avenue, snaking its way through the high-rises of the city, while bushes and vines crawled their way up the support beams. In the station, high above the streets, you could get a great view, and it made the city seem very modern and exciting.

Sleepy little backstreets.

We arrived at the castle and found it wasn’t very busy. It must have been too hot out for most tourists that day. Shuri Castle was the palace of the Ryukyu Kingdom from the 15^th to the 19^th centuries. It is a sprawling hilltop structure of heavy stone walls and broad pathways. Inside the fortifications is the palace, the design of which is Chinese in influence, and it is painted in bright red lacquer. Inside we happened to catch a performance of some traditional Ryukyuan dances. The dancers wore lovely, colorful costumes. Outside the castle there were many tropical plants, including ancient trees and many beautiful red hibiscus flowers.

The walls of Shuri Castle

The palace at Shuri Castle

This is the “usual” route. Some people go a different way, but “usually” they go this way. Lol.

The throne of the Ryukyuan kings.

Traditional Ryukyuan dancers.

A lovely day for a stroll.

Cats of Okinawa.

Found this melancholy little scene.

Ancient tropical trees.

And the hibiscus flower.

As we tried to leave the castle area we got a little lost and ended up walking up and over the mountaintop and wandering around some hilltop neighborhood. It was extremely hot out. We were getting exhausted, but the area was very beautiful and I’m actually glad we got lost for a bit. The narrow cobblestone lanes were flanked by stone walls in places and overhung with tropical vegetation of every sort, while entrances to homes perched on hillsides were hidden among the labyrinthine paths.

We came upon a grove where there was a tree that was supposed to be some 800 years old! We rested for a while in the shade of that tree before continuing on our way. We also spotted like, a public tatami room or something. It was a small room, open on three sides, with a shrine or something on the back wall. It was maybe what a gazebo would be if it was Japanese, know what I mean? Anyway, I thought it was really cool.

An 800-year-old tree!

This was the “gazebo.” Just an open-air tatami room in the middle of the street. Nice place to chill on a hot day.

波の上ビーチ　Naminoue Beach

Finally, after getting lost while wandering around under a scalding hot sun, it was time to find ourselves a beach where we could relax. We made our way to Naminoue Beach which is basically right in the middle of the city. It was a small beach, flanked by some concrete steps for sitting and by a small concessions area. Much to my surprise, though, out in the water about 100 feet, there was an elevated portion of a highway!

I have to admit I scoffed at first. I thought, how could one enjoy a beach with a highway passing though right in the water in front of you? As a guy who was looking for a tropical vacation with pretty, sandy beaches, I was little disappointed. But it was okay. It was still a nice little beach, and a great place to relax. Maybe you just have to think of it as a city park in beach form.

And I was able to get some beers at the concession store, too. The shop clerk was a nice old man, shirtless and more darkly suntanned than anyone I have ever seen in my life (even having grown up in Florida). He noticed the beer I chose wasn’t very cold and insisted he go grab an ice-cold one for me. Thanks, suntan guy! Sitting on the steps we chatted, sipped our ice-cold beer and watched the sun set over the highway.

Here are just a few shots on our way to the beach.

Cats of Okinawa 2.

Naminoue Beach

Naminoue Shrine, perched atop a nearby promontory.

Not a bad spot to relax and enjoy a sunset.

デポアイランド　Depot Island

The next day my girlfriend rented a car and we headed out of Naha to a northern part of the city called Chatan, where we went to a giant shopping mall called Depot Island. It was a kitschy, island-themed, amusement park-ish sort of mall with numerous shops and restaurants that you could get lost wandering around in. This place also wasn’t very busy. Maybe tourists don’t come to Okinawa in late summer. I’m not much of a shopper, but I’m always down for lunch, so we went to a restaurant, maritime-themed, of course. The menu had some interesting illustrations; it was entertaining in its own right. After that, we wandered out of the mall along a gray concrete seawall to gaze at the ocean for a while. I liked the graffiti I saw out there.

Depot Bay from the parking lot.

Depot Bay Shopping Mall!

A nearby store with a fun name.

Found in the restaurant menu which was full of kitschy old advertisements like this one. Just a couple of months before the election…

Graffiti on the seawall.

Hatsune Miku graffiti.

ホテル　Our Hotel

At last, we were bound for our next hotel, our real hotel, the one with an ocean view, the one in the tropical paradise of my dreams, the Morima Resort Hotel! This hotel was in an area called Yomitan. As the hotel came into view I was amazed. This place looked like it was right out of a 1960s spy film. It was gorgeous! It was a retro-looking palatial four-story building, painted white with red tiled roof and balconies looking right out on the ocean! And we were on the top floor, so we had the best possible view!

Directly behind the hotel there was a patch of grass before the sandy beach where, interestingly, there was a goat tied up to a post and lounging about munching grass. To the right of that grassy patch was a restaurant called the Fisherman’s Wharf, and maybe the goat had something to do with the restaurant. The goat patch was kind of weird, but whatever. (note: just found on Google Maps that this place is actually labeled as “Goat Beach.” So there you go! Goat Beach!)

There it is!

The Morima Resort Hotel!

Beautiful view from our balcony!

Goat Beach! Or, “goat patch,” as I called it.

The area felt pretty quiet, almost like we were in a forgotten corner of the world, like we had the whole place to ourselves. And honestly, we did! When we went down to the beach there was scarcely another soul to be seen. It was just us, on a sandy tropical beach by ourselves with our great white mansion of a hotel behind us. It was like we had died and gone to heaven!

The Fisherman’s Wharf Restaurant. Seemed closed for the season or something.

It was pretty dark and cloudy, but soon the clouds would open up enough for a sublime sunset.

Poor little goaty 😦

瀬底ビーチ　Sesoko Beach

We woke up the next morning to an even more beautiful view. The sky had cleared up and was a brilliant azure blue with a few puffy little white clouds on the horizon, and the water was just as blue as the sky! Here was tropical paradise, right outside our window! We started with a swim in the crystal clear water, again with the whole beach to ourselves, before walking up the street to yet another adorable cafe (Japan is full of them) called the Songbird Cafe where we had tea and some delicious sweets.

Well GOOD MORNING!!

What a scene to wake up to!!

Ooooh yeaaaaaah…

This is heavenly…

The Songbird Cafe.

View from the Songbird Cafe.

Later, we went out looking for another nice public beach, you know, some place we could order cocktails and people-watch, that sort of thing. Unfortunately, we were disappointed with the one we went to. We drove forever to get there, too. I was skeptical again when we pulled up to the beach and the ocean was blocked by some hideous gray, seemingly abandoned, apartment development or something that was made all the more dismal by the fact that the skies had clouded up on our way out there. Around the corner the small public beach didn’t offer much in the way of tropical paradise-iness, so we shrugged our shoulders and left, going back to our little slice of paradise to make dinner and enjoy another sunset.

Heading out for the day, on the rural lanes of Okinawa.

Uh oh! Looks like a storm’s a-brewin’.

What the…? This is what you first see upon arrival at Sesoko Beach. Pretty dismal and off-putting.

Sesoko Beach not looking so hot, so we left.

残波浜　Zanpa Beach

The next day, once again,, we set out to look for a nice public beach. This trip was all about relaxing on tropical beaches after a long stressful year in Japan, after all. This time we went to a place closer to our home base and found a place called Zanpa Beach. We had to park somewhere and walk quite a ways, but we saw some interesting sights along the way. We spotted a bridal party having a photo shoot along the shore. The bride and her bridesmaids looked darling in their lightly colored dresses. Then we passed by an impressive looking wedding chapel, the Aqua Grace Wedding Chapel, which I am now certain I saw on the Japanese dating show Rea(L)ove on Netflix.

The area we were in seemed to be growing sugar cane or something.

A little Okinawan restaurant where we parked our car.

Aqua Grace Wedding Chapel.

A lovely photo shoot for a bridal party.

Zanpa Beach wasn’t bad at all. We decided to stay and enjoy this one. Their bar was closed, unfortunately, not the season I guess, but there was a shop where you could rent out umbrellas or recreational things, like those water bikes that couples power together, and stuff like that. I’m a cheapskate, though, and a guy who just likes to keep things simple, so I didn’t want to rent anything; I just wanted to enjoy the sand and the water and the sky. We swam together for a while, and it was a lovely time, but again, clouds started to form, and we went back home.

Zanpa Beach.

Back at our balcony enjoying another brooding sunset.

Later, we went out to eat at a cool-looking restaurant nearby called Kuroneko (black cat) Yomitan (黒猫屋 読谷店). It was an izakaya specializing in grilled meats, with all kinds of good food. The atmosphere was cozy but lively, and the décor was over the top, in a cool way.

Kuroneko “Black Cat” Yomitan

最後に　In the End

On our final day we took one last look at our beautiful private beach, our grand beach palace . . . and the goat. We headed out, drove back into the city to return our car, and made our way back to the airport where we had to wait quite a while, so we enjoyed a couple of local beers in the terminal.

One last look at our blue heaven.

Bye bye, little goaty. Poor little guy 😥😥😥

One last look at the city…

And its sweltering tropical back alleys…

And its weathered old buildings…

And its GIGANTIC cruise ships…

And a couple of beers…

for the road…

There was so much more to do in Okinawa, and we barely scratched the surface. We probably spent too much time looking for beaches, especially since the very best beach on the whole island was right there in our own back yard. I’m really glad we got to enjoy that. Who would have thought that humble little Goat Beach at the Morima Hotel would be the best beach in Okinawa!?

Okinawa was such a wonderful trip. The beaches don’t look nearly as good in person as they do online (except for our little beach!), but the island has so much more to offer. It’s such a nice and beautiful, and fun, place. It was a fitting end to my year of adventure in Japan, the sparkling sapphire crown jewel of my travels!

And I am so very thankful to the person who made this trip possible, who planned most of it, who put up with me at times when I was difficult, and who made this trip, and so much of the rest of my time in Japan, a wonder and a joy, and I dedicate this post to her. Thank you, M!! I hope you’ll look back as fondly on these memories as I do!

いつまでも恋しい　。。。

終わり

Kōbe

August 21, 2016

After taking a spontaneous day-long trip on local trains from Kyoto to Hiroshima and spending a couple of days there, exploring the city, visiting its famous landmarks, and making an excursion to Miyajima to see the famous torii and climb Mt. Misen, I decided to head back home. On my way, though, I figured I should spend some time in Kōbe, since I would be stopping there to transfer trains anyway, I might as well, right? So off I went.

神戸　 Kōbe

I went back the same way came, on local trains, that is, but this time it didn’t take quite as long, since I didn’t have to go all the way to Kyoto. I got to Kōbe and found a bustling city, with a wide open plaza in front of the station. I found my hostel, Hostel Nakamura, was quite nearby, checked in, and headed right back out to wander around a little.

(Remember to click on an image to get a better look!)

Hostel Nakamura, Kobe. Very cool building with a vintage interior run by a young dude with dreadlocks and a motorcycle.

Hostel Nakamura.

From the roof of Hostel Nakamura.

I found a busy commercial district, neon-lit and teeming, like most similar areas in Japan. I had my eyes out for Kōbe beef dining options, but I found that most signs advertising Kōbe beef—and there were many—had pretty high prices for my budget, at least $55 a person. And they all seemed like fancy places, too. I was looking pretty raggedy at the moment—unshaven face, sunburned, and wearing the smelly and T-shirt and shorts of a budget traveler who had been basically backpacking around in the sun for a few days—so I didn’t feel comfortable walking, alone, into some fancy steak restaurant and blowing up the vibe. I was hungry, though, and pretty tired, so I took the easy route and settled for some Makku, McDonald’s, making my first beef in Kōbe a Big Mac, lol! (In know! I’m the worst kind of tourist!)

Not technically Kobe beef, but still, beef in Kobe?

After wandering around a bit more and not really knowing what to do with myself, I decided to call it a night, grabbed a couple of beers from a konbini, and went back to my hostel, where the host had told me early I could go out onto the rooftop if I wanted. I took my beers up there. It was a small utilitarian space like a ship’s crows nest up there, nothing fancy, but there were a couple of seating pads. So I sat up there with my beers and some tunes, contemplating the universe and surrounded by tall skinny buildings. There are some advantages to solo traveling, I thought. You can go anywhere, at any time, and do anything you want without having to worry about what other people want to do, but every now and then, that inevitable loneliness creeps in and you wonder what you’re doing all alone drinking beer on a rooftop with no one to share the moment with.

This bud’s for you! Wherever you are!

北野町　Kitano-chō

Anyway, the next day I got up, and with pep in my step I stepped out into another beautiful day in Japan. It was going to be another hot one, but the sky was as blue as blue can be. I had heard that there was a neighborhood in Kōbe full of old European-style houses from the Taishō period, so I went looking for that. It turns out it was uphill. All the way up hill to where the city runs into the mountains. I walked uphill along a wide, straight boulevard, lined with seemingly perfect buildings. There was something about Kōbe. It was crisp and clean and had great lines and angles, and the gentle slope down from the forested mountains through the gleaming city to glistening blue sea below made Kōbe really POP! It didn’t have that vibe of tropical decay that some other seaside cities had, it had a “shimmering city by the sea” vibe. I have to say that I think Kōbe may be the most attractive city in Japan. It’s just so pleasing to the eye.

Impressive thoroughfares!

Lovely Miyazaki-esque buildings!

Manhole covers of Japan!

And adorable little cafes!

And whatever this is!

Sounds dangerous. Let’s drink somewhere else.

As I made my way closer to Kitano-chō, as its called, the streets became narrower and more curvy, and contained any number of adorable little cafes and cute little boutiques and perfect little houses, some carefully overgrown with clinging vines. Kitano-chō itself was full of majestic European mansions built some hundred or more years ago, and the whole area embodies that romanticized belle epoque Western aesthetic that permeates some Miyazaki films and lots of anime, as well as cafes all across Japan where sophisticated young ladies sip coffee from delicate cup and saucer sets in europeanesque wood-paneled rooms wearing those ubiquitous summer straw hats with a broad black ribbon tied in a bow around the crown. The Weathercock House is the centerpiece to this district, a towering mansion with a Germanic vibe sitting at the top of the slope, with a rooster-shaped weather vane perched high upon its tallest tower. You and can take an inexpensive tour of the house, exploring not only its elegant interior but also getting a grand view of the city and the sea below, a spectacular sight!

The Weathercock House.

A “weather cock,” hence the name.

Looking out over Kobe

A house in Kitano-cho

Kitano-cho’s main avenue.

There wasn’t much else to do up there but stroll, and shop, and take pictures of cool buildings, but I lingered around up there for a while, probably had some ice cream or something, before heading back downhill for a while, continuously dazzled by all the neat buildings and pretty street scenes.

I thought this was really cool!

ワント・バーガー　Wanto Burger

Then I got hungry, and I knew I had to find some Kōbe beef, preferably for much less than $55. I found a place featuring Kōbe beef burgers! It was called Wanto Burger. It was a hip little joint with a shotgun bar that played rock ‘n’ roll music and had a creepy giant catfish in a tiny fish tank behind the bar (kinda sad, actually). Their menu contained a variety of creative burger recipes featuring, of course, Kōbe beef, as well as wagyū (regular Japanese beef). The prices were up there, but still reasonable. This was definitely NOT McDonald’s. I went for the namesake burger, the Wanto Burger, a monster of a burger with a Kōbe beef patty AND sliced strips of wagyū! Also on it was bacon, boiled egg slices, slivers of crisped garlic, brown mustard, and steak sauce! It was awesome! And after pairing it with a couple of “mexi-cokes” (tequila and cola), I pretty much stumbled out of there in a haze of gustatory pleasure and satisfaction. Wanto Burger! Go there!

Wanto Burger!

THE Wanto Burger!

The Wanto Burger giant catfish?

Walking around the neighborhood, I passed by the building again, remembering that I hadn’t taken a photo of the place. I took the photo, then noticed that a couple of the staff were out front skateboarding (they were wearing their Wanto Burger T-shirts), and they noticed me taking the photo and seemed a little confused. I looked at them and offered up an “oishikatta!” (“it was delicious”) as an explanation, and they seemed quite pleased with that.

After that, I got beer at a konbini and walked around, seemingly the only foreigner in town, and definitely the only person walking around with a beer in his hand. I believe it was a Tuesday. I could imagine all the local obasans (aunties) saying, What’s with these foreigners? Why do they walk around drinking in the middle of the day? That’s not right!

Why is that foreigner drinking outside in the middle of the day?? Okashii naa…

南京町　Nanking-machi

At one point in my drunken meanderings I looked up and realized I was in Chinatown! I didn’t know Kōbe even had a chinatown, but they did, and it was vibrant and bursting with life. It’s called Nanking-machi, or Nanking Town, after the city in China, and it rivaled Yokohama‘s or even San Francisco’s chinatowns as far as colorfulness and activity. It was quite a sight! I walked back and forth in there for a while before carrying on downhill, toward the harbor.

Nanking-machi, Kobe!

メリケンパーク　Meriken Park

I arrived at the harbor, at a place called Meriken Park, and it was HOT out. Blistering hot! I used my fan to shield my already burnt forehead from the sun. I decided to go up into the Kōbe Port Tower, an iconic part of the Kōbe harbor skyline, and up there I found a rotating cafe where I sat for a couple of coffees and relaxed while I watched the city and the sea turn around and around. Up there I became certain that Kōbe was the most beautiful city in Japan. I could have sat up there forever. And the view was immense. I could even see Osaka’s Abeno Harukas building in the distance!

Kobe Port Tower at Meriken Park.

The Kitano-cho neighborhood.

Abeno Harukas buidling in central Osaka, visible from Kobe Port Tower!

Finally, I descended from the Port Tower and continued wandering. I was pretty tired at that point, though, so I knew I was wandering back toward the station where I would catch a quick express train back to Kyoto. I took one last look at the busy streets of Kōbe, wishing I had more to do, more reason to just hang around longer, but I didn’t really, so I turned and went into the station, ending my spontaneous four-day trip to Hiroshima, Miyajima, and Kōbe. This was one of my favorite trips. It might have been nice to be able to share it with someone, but then, maybe, it just wouldn’t have been the same.

終わり

This concludes my three-part Hiroshima-Miyajima-Kōbe adventure. Stay tuned for one last big hoorah as I take a trip to tropical Okinawa!!

Miyajima

August 19^th, 2016

After launching myself on a solo expedition on slow trains from Kyoto to Hiroshima and spending a day exploring that city, visiting Hiroshima Castle, the Genbaku Dome, the Peace Memorial and Okonomiyaki Village, I decided to make a day of going to the island of Miyajima to see the famous torii at Itsukushima Shirne.

The island of Miyajima is also known as Itsukushima, which is also the name of the large shinto shrine located there, famous for its giant vermillion torii gate that sits out in the bay and seems to float magically upon the water at high tide.

From my hostel in Hatsukaichi, located conveniently halfway between Hiroshima and Miyajima, I took a short ride on the dentetsu (electric railway) to a ferry terminal where I would catch a ferry boat to the island. It was a beautiful day and the the usual tourist crowd was out and the signs were easy to follow.

From the ferry, I got my first glimpse of the torii in the distance as we approached the island, and cameras start popping out all over the place, as usual. When I made landfall I arrived at a huge terminal full of tourist information, and full of tourists, and from there you simply follow the crowds.

It was a blazing hot day. I mean, really, it was 40 degrees C (104F) out, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky to provide any respite from the sun’s glare. I walked down the broad avenue along the beach toward the shrine, already sweating and using a handheld fan to shield my face from the burning sun. The avenue was lined with little shops catering to tourists, full of souvenirs, snacks and, thankfully, kakigōri (shaved ice)! I bought myself a big kakigōri and continued on my way. Also, the island, much like the buddhist temple town of Nara, is inhabited by deer, who today lazed about in the shade of trees trying to keep out of the heat.

Instead of going directly to the shrine to see the torii, I did what I usually do, which is to wander around, taking any path that looks interesting, and I ended up exploring the little town a bit. I walked up some stairs, went up and over a small mountain and thought I had discovered a whole town on the other side of the mountain, but it turned out to just be the same town and just around the corner a little bit, haha. The town was densely built and the little back streets seemed entirely deserted, save for a couple small shōtengai (shopping arcades) covered overhead to keep out the sun. Probably, everyone who could stay inside on such a hot day was doing exactly that.

(Remember to click on an image to get a closer look!)

First, a view of the marina near my hostel.

And this hilarious little… grandma hat for cats???

The ferry terminal for Miyajima bound ferries.

First glimpses of the torii

This looks interesting. I wonder where this leads to…

I thought I had found a town secluded from all the tourist stuff!

Empty backstreets.

Shoutengai shaded from the sun.

Back to the shrine.

 

お鳥居 The Great Torii

After not finding much else of interest in the little abandoned streets of the town, I decided to get back to the business of seeing the famous torii gate. When I got there it was low tide, and the torii stood out on basically a wide expanse of mud flat, teeming with little hermit crabs other tiny sand-burrowing mollusks. Itsukushima Shrine was built such that it surrounded this little bay like a harbor. Dozens of tourists were out walking around in the sand, and children poked around in the mud finding little sea creatures. It was like a day at the beach.

It was so incredibly hot!

Hot deer.

The great torii!

 

弥山 Mount Misen

Satisfied with the time spent around the torii, I headed back into the town to wander some more. Somehow, I can’t remember how, I found out there was a “ropeway,” a gondola that would take you up a mountain. Which mountain? I didn’t know. I remember waiting outside of a nice little hotel for a van that came and picked us up and drove some way up into the hills.

From there I bought a ticket for the ropeway, and up I went, to where, I still had no idea. I may not have known where I was going, but the view along the way was stunning. In the gondola we soared through the mountains high above the forest as views of the sea stretched out all around us.

Ropeway, eh? Where to, I wonder?

Random pretty

More random pretty

Whoa! What!?!

The Seto Inland Sea becomes visible all around!

It’s like a Hiroshige woodblock card up there!

Having reached the end of the ropeway, I discovered that there was still further that you could go, and I found myself hiking a trail through the forest and up the mountain ever higher, and despite the fact the the higher I went, the hotter the unforgiving sun seemed to become, I pushed on, driven by the excitement of the unknown.

At last I reached the summit where there was a clearing and a little building where you could go onto the roof for a 360 degree view of the Seto Inland Sea. Up there, I truly felt I was on top of the world. Islands in the distance seemed to float in the air as the blue sea faded seamlessly into the sky. It was magnificent! It was glorious! … And I was about to die of heatstroke and starvation, but I still had do the whole trek in reverse, hiking back down to the ropeway, and descending down to the seaside.

The summit!

 

夕方 Evening

Having survived the trip down the mountain I treated myself to a beer and relaxed a while. And somehow, despite my exhaustion, my insatiable wanderlust propelled me yet again(!) up into some hills where I found another temple to explore, but I finally came back around to see the great torii as the sun set. The tide had started to come in, but you could still wade underneath the gate. It was great to soak my aching feet in the sea water after all that hiking around.

Relaxing with a beer.

Deer love beer, too!?!

Gee, I wonder if I can find my way to that.

Yep.

Tourists get ready for the sunset photo op at the torii.

This poor little guy was trying to eke out a dinner amoung scraps on a plastic polluted beach 😦

Sleepy deer

Good night, Miyajima.

 

Amazingly, after all that, I went all the way back into Hiroshima that night for dinner! I was craving ramen, as I tend to do, and there wasn’t much going on in the area around my hostel. So, I hopped the train back to Hiroshima and found a ramen shop near Hiroshima Station where the patrons were almost all business men, something fairly typical for ramen shops, and bought myself a bowl. On the way back, I ran into a crowd as a Hiroshima Carp baseball game had just let out. Fans lined up for the train decked out in their cardinal red Carp gear.

Back to Hiroshima for ramen!

Carp fans crowd the station after the game.

I just thought this station near my hostle looked cool.

See?

This concludes part two of my excursion to Hiroshima, Miyajima, and Kobe. Check out part three here (coming soon!) where I spend about 24 hours in Kobe and eat beef, visit the Weathercock House, Chinatown, and the harbor, and generally just wander around like I always do!

And while you’re at it, check out my translation website, Davetranslates.wordpress.com, where I translate Japanese news articles into English for fun and practice!

Hiroshima

August 17^th, 2016

It was the hottest, sweatiest part of summer. Classes had finished a few weeks ago, but I was still living in the dorm with a few more weeks to go. The summer had been packed with plenty of fun and social activity. There were a lot of farewell parties for fellow exchange students heading home which at times lasted well into the next morning, the effects lasting well into the next evening (二日酔い). But there was a lot of boredom to contend with, too. Without classes and with friends gone away there were extra days to fill, long, hot, slow summer days that never seemed to end. And on one of those days, after a few days of rowdy farewell parties, I got the idea fill my time with a spontaneous solo trip and decided to visit the city of Hiroshima which I had yet to explore.

I decided to make it interesting, though. Rather than just take a bullet train and get there quickly, I thought it might be interesting to take a string of local trains and get there slowly; slowly enough to fill up a long summer day (and cheaper, too!). At something like 400km (250mi), the trip would have taken maybe 2 or 3 hours on fast trains, but it took a full 8 or 9 hours on five local trains for me.

On the way, I gazed out the windows, never growing tired of the passing scenery of rural Japan. Small hamlets of buildings in disrepair surrounded by neatly plotted rice fields and flanked by green mountains bulging out of the landscape with patches of bamboo forest nestled among the trees. I stopped first at a tiny station out past Himeji, though I can’t remember the name of the town. Then I transferred again at Okayama, then Mihara, and from there went all the way to Hatsukaichi Station on the far side of Hiroshima.

When I finally arrived it was about 9 o’clock at night and I may have been just about the only person in the station. I tried to exit the wicket, swiped my ICOCA (transit fare) card and the wicket locked and stopped me, indicating that I needed to go see a station attendant. I went over to the window and handed him my card and he checked it. The guy was dumbfounded when my card told him I had come from Kyoto. He said, “Kyōto? Shinkansen?” I said, “no, futsū (local trains),” and he was like “whaaaaaaaaa??” He actually went and made a phone call or something; he stepped into the back for a minute before he finally came out with a calculator to add up the fee. For a cool $64 I commuted from Kyoto to Hiroshima, at least half of what it would have cost me to take the fast trains.

My hostel (Omotenashi Hostel) was on the outskirts of Hiroshima, situated on a little marina about halfway between the city and Miyajima, where the famous torii of Itsukushima Shrine is located. I went directly there, took a shower and went right to bed. It was VERY nice; I highly recommend it if you are going to Miyajima, and sitting outside on the seawall in the peace of night, gazing at the full moon and its reflection on the still, black water of the harbor was a priceless moment for me.

(remember to click on the images to get a better look)

Starting my day at Kyoto Station.

A small station outside of Himeji. It may have been Aioi. I can’t remember, but it started with an “A”.

View from the station in Mihara.

Omotenashi Hostel Miyajima, Hatsukaichi

The harbor view right outside the hostel.

A nice temple across the highway.

 

広島駅 Hiroshima Eki

I woke up to a beautiful day and made my way back to the station where I took the Dentetsu (electric railway) into Hiroshima. I found Hiroshima Station to be impressively large and, with the renovations taking place at the time, terribly confusing. I basically got lost for at least an hour trying to find my way out, and ended up walking through it more than once, as well as around it several times, trying to find the front so I could get my bearings and go somewhere. It was exhausting, but at least I got a look at some interesting backstreets nearby, and backstreets are what I’m all about anyway, so…

Every town in Japan has its own unique and expressive manhole covers. Hiroshima’s reflects the local pro baseball team, the Hiroshima Carp.

The front of Hiroshima Station, but how do I get to there???

Literally, where am I???

What???

Okay, this I can handle.

Hiroshima Eki backstreets.

 

広島城 Hiroshima-jō

Having finally found my way out of the labyrinthine station and its environs, I made my way over to Hiroshima Castle. I can’t remember if I planned any of this or just figured it out on the fly. I think it was the latter, haha! The castle was very beautiful, the wooden exterior being unpainted, and featured a really cool museum inside. There were also nice views of the city from inside.

Hiroshima Castle

 

原爆ドームと広島平和記念碑 Genbaku Dome and Peace Memorial Park

Planning my next move, I realized I was walking distance to the Genbaku Dome—the standing remains of the exhibition building left after the bomb—and the Peace Memorial. On the way I stopped at a Family Mart for lunch and ate hiyashi chūka, a chilled meat, veg, and noodle salad, perfect for a hot summer day. The Genbaku Dome was an arresting sight as I approached it from the north. It’s situated next to a river with walkways along both sides. It was a sober and relaxing area where I spent a lot of time taking photos and resting. At one time I was a approached by a small girl who offered me a gift of a tiny origami paper crane. The paper crane has some significance in this context, as a young girl who survived the bombing but died later of her wounds, Sasaki Sadako, famously folded 1,000 paper cranes before her death. The paper crane is thus meant to remind us of the innocent victims of the atomic bomb and symbolizes a wish for peace. So, I think they have children handing these out to tourists in the area, and it was really a touching and moving gesture.

Hiyashi Chuuka (lit. “chilled Chinese”). A perfect summer dish.

Genbaku Dome

Origami paper crane, symbolizing the hope for peace.

The rest of the park was world-class in its beauty. A sprawling and well-maintained park-like campus meanders from the Genbaku Dome over to the Peace Memorial Museum. I entered the museum and, while it is a very important thing for all people to experience, the exhibits felt to me a little bit like disaster p*rn. You spend the entire time gawking at the horror and destructive power of the atom bomb, almost glorified in these displays. It was difficult and gave me mixed feelings. I don’t mean to offend, I’m just saying that this is how I felt about it. But I guess that’s the whole point, right? To shock anyone who sees it into becoming firmly resolved in their opposition to something so terrible as nuclear weapons, or war in general.

The Bell of Peace.

Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum.

 

お好み村 Okonomi-mura

As the afternoon faded into dusk, I walked toward what looked like the nearest commercial district on Google Maps (you can tell because the area is color-coded in… orange-ish pink?). It may have been called Horikawa-chō, but within it I discovered an area called Okonomi-mura, a hub for okonomiyaki dining. Okonomiyaki is, of course, the delicious, savory egg batter pancake, of which Hiroshima has its own famous version with noodles. There must have been 100 okonomiyaki-ya in the area, including one ten-story building packed entirely with okonomiyaki stalls. I chose the giant, well-lit one at street level. I ordered a beer and a pancake (Austin Powers, anyone?), but the heat and the first beer must have dampened my appetite and I could barely stuff down half of the huge, dense and filling okonomiyaki. I tried to eat as much as I could because I didn’t want to be the only foreigner in the room (I was) and be the guy who “didn’t like” his Japanese food. I stumbled out of there, about to burst and sat around in the square, people-watching, and then continued to wander around. In my wandering I think I happened upon Hiroshima’s “naughty” district. I wasn’t feeling THAT adventurous that night, and besides, I was an okonomiyaki bomb waiting to go off, so I turned around and made my way home.

Okonomi-mura, the Mecca of Hiroshima-style okonomiyaki!

The plaza at Okonomi-mura. Pretty chill spot, actually.

I ate at this okonomiyaki-ya. I loved the mom-and-pop shop atmosphere of this bustling local favorite.

Hiroshima’s entertainment district.

I wasn’t feeling up for it this night. Looks neat, though.

Omotenashi Hostel at night. I really liked this place a lot. Maybe the nicest hostel I stayed at.

Featuring some family samurai armor that straight-up looks like Darth Vader up in this B.

Moonlight over the harbor.

 

This concludes the first part of my Hiroshima and Kōbe adventure. Check out the second part here, where I travel to Miyajima to see the famous torii at Itsukushima Shrine and inadvertently ascend to the top of Mount Misen!

And while you’re at it, go check out my translation website, Davetranslates.wordpress.com, where I translate Japanese news articles into English for fun and practice, and see what I’m capable of in J – E translation.

Himeji Castle

姫路城

It was the very end of March, and I took a trip to Himeji in Hyōgo Prefecture, just on the other side of Kōbe from Kyoto, to see the famous Himeji Castle (姫路城). Also known as the White Crane Castle, because its striking white color is reminiscent of the Japanese white crane, it is regarded as the finest example of a traditional Japanese castle and is the country’s most famous.

It was early spring, the air was warm and the skies were clouded with soon-to-be April showers, and the cherry trees were just beginning to bloom. It was hanami season, the time for spring flower-viewing parties, and the plaza around the castle, a park-like area filled with cherry trees, was teeming with people enjoying picnics under the light-pink petals. With its bright white walls, the castle stood proud upon the hilltop, forming a noble backdrop for the delicate and lovely cherry blossoms in the foreground; a classic romanticized Japanese scene.

One could tell the castle was famous just by the crowds. The castle grounds were clogged with tourists, this being the last week of the spring break in Japan. Walking along the pathway into the castle grounds and up into the castle itself was like waiting in an epic line for a ride at Disneyland. The labyrinthine path wound its way through the medieval castle complex in a way that was no doubt intended to confuse any would-be invaders. It was slow-going and jam-packed all the way to the top floor, at which there was a small shrine.

The castle was beautiful, of course, and there was a nice view from the top, but if you aren’t a fan of crowded tourist sites then you might not enjoy Himeji Castle. Perhaps a trip during a slower season would be more enjoyable. However, I’m happy to have been able to see it with my own eyes. My pictures won’t do it justice, I’m sure, but I hope you enjoy.

People enjoying hanami parties outside the castle.

Himeji Castle

The winding pathway provided some interesting viewpoints.

A model of the castle town as it was in its heyday.

Nice view from up there.

A small shrine at the top floor of the castle.

終わり End

A Dream is Born!

In September of 2015, Dave’s Japan opened with mention of a magical, wonderful trip to Japan a few years before which inspired me and set me on my course to return someday (Finally, Back to Japan). It has now been 8 years since that influential journey, and I wanted, at long last, to share that experience with you all.

It was January of 2011, the occasion was my then girlfriend’s graduation and her parents offered her, as a graduation present, half of her expenses paid for a trip to Japan. I was lucky enough to be able to go with her, and off we went on our dream vacation!

First Night     初めての晩

After a long flight, we arrived at Narita airport and took the express train into the city. We were going to meet our friend who was in the country working as an English teacher. We met up with her somewhere near Yokohama. Tired from our long trip, we just wanted to rest and get some food and a beer without making it complicated, so we went to a HUB English Pub, the chain pub ubiquitous throughout Japan, and the easy option for Westerners temporarily lacking in bravery and imagination.

Underground at Yokohama.

We emerge onto the streets.

Yokohama backstreets.

Yokohama backstreets.

“Jsize” cocktails!

Temporarily refreshed, we went out to catch the train to our friend’s house. When we got there, the train was so packed that, even though my friends had entered the train, I didn’t think I could make it in. I wasn’t accustomed yet to the idea of jamming myself into a crowded train. Our friend, experienced in such matters, stopped the doors as they were closing and yanked me onboard. Little did I know, that was the last train of the night. I would have been pretty screwed out there all by myself in the Tokyo suburbs with no place to go and no idea about how to get around in Japan. I said “sumimasen” out loud to apologize to all the tired commuters for holding them up. No one seemed to pay any attention, so it was no big deal, I guess.

Kamakura     鎌倉

The next day we went out to Kamakura to see the Daibutsu, the Great Buddha, at the recommendation of our friend since we had no idea what to do in Japan! We were super unprepared for all of this!

First, we walked to the nearby train station where we purchased Suica cards, the local transit passes, and loaded them with funds. This was a novel idea for us! Then, we went on our way to Kamakura. This was the first time I had seen Japan in the light of day. I just loved all the tiny houses and shops. I couldn’t stop craning my neck this way and that while snapping photos. Some of the shops had funny names, like “Speed Queen.” Only now that I can read Japanese do I realize that Speed Queen was a laundry place.

A lovely day in Kamakura.

Speed Queen cleaners!

A souvenir shop in Kamakura.

We stopped on our way to the Daibutsu and had ramen for lunch. It was the first real bowl of ramen I had ever hadand it was delicious! I hadn’t realized that ramen could be real food on account of all the instant ramen I had eaten in my life. After that, we headed up to the temple district.

The streets were quiet and empty except for a couple of rickshaw drivers standing by their carriage, a common sight around Japan’s more traditional tourist areas. We approached the young men and attempted to chat with them. I said, “konnichiwa” and they kind of laughed at me, mimicking my attempt at their language. I imagined that if a Japanese guy were to go to Texas, approach a couple of local boys and say, with a thick accent, “herro,” it might elicit a chuckle. I probably sounded something like that to them, so I let it slide. It should be noted that sumimasen, konnichiwa, and arigatō were pretty much all the Japanese I knew at the time.

We finally went in to see the Daibutsu. It was very impressive! The whole area was quiet, the kind of quiet that only the still, cold, condensed air of winter can produce, and the peaceful sensation was only amplified by the stoic face of the giant bronze Buddha perpetually frozen in a state of perfect calm.

Kamakura Daibutsu.

Kamakura Daibutsu.

After that, we walked back through Kamakura along a wide, torii-straddled path to Tsurugaoka Hachimangū shrine where we poked around a bit before wandering back into the town. Walking down a well-lit backstreet, we noticed a sign for a bar, and we decided to stop in for some refreshment while figuring out what to do next.

This lantern-lit path runs right up the middle of the main street in Kamakura on the approach to Tsurugaoka Hachimangu Shrine.

Tsurugaoka Hachimangu Shrine, Kamakura.

Tsurugaoka Hachimangu Shrine, Kamakura.

Kamakura backstreets; well-lit, clean, and with welcoming, family-owned bars/restaurants.

We walked in the front door and saw a U-shaped dining bar in the center of the room. The room was empty except for the proprietress at the door, the chef behind the bar, and a couple of little kids seated and eating their dinner. The kids turned around as we entered, and when they saw us, their eyes bulged and their mouths gaped open in an expression that could only say, “Holy crap! Foreigners! Whaaaaaat!?” We asked the matron for the bar, as per the sign outside, and she took us upstairs to a totally empty-of-patrons, but very nice barroom.

We sat at the bar and ordered drinks, then chatted among ourselves while the lady of the house stood patiently behind the bar for the duration of our visit. It was an awkward, but interesting, and otherwise pleasant, experience. It seemed to be a family-owned and operated place, the likes of which can probably be found all throughout Japan.

Yokohama     横浜

At the bar, we decided on a trip to Yokohama to end the night. We didn’t do anything exciting there, really; we just walked around, enjoyed the view at Minato Mirai 21, the famous and familiar vista of Yokohama, and I think we ate at a famiresu (family-style restaurant). The night view at Yokohama is really one of the contemporary wonders of the world; it truly is awe-inspiring; romantic, even.

Yokohama at night, view from Minato Mirai 21.

Ginza    銀座

The next day we left our friend’s place to venture out on our own. Part of our package in Japan included one free night at a hotel, given to us by my girlfriend’s father. His employer had a contract with Marriott Hotels, and he traveled a lot for work, so he had a complimentary night at a Marriott to give to us. The Marriott where we were staying? It was in Ginza! A five-star, luxury Marriott in Tokyo’s five-star, luxury district! How lucky! Our hotel room was really nice! The beds had soft, downy duvet covers, and there were stylish yukata laid out on the bed for us.

Ginza at night.

Our luxurious hotel room.

The view from our room. Notice the small window on the center left of the image?

Look a little closer. Peek-a-boo!

A nice hamburger shop in Ginza.

We had fun walking around the neighborhood, though most everything looked a little too expensive for us. From there it was easy, however, to visit the grounds of the Tokyo Imperial Residence, so that’s where we went next. I was amazed at how meticulously groomed and spotlessly clean the whole park was. It was mind-blowing how crisp everything was. And the skyline of Marunouchi was impressive, a veritable wall of office buildings stood up under a vast expanse of clear, blue sky.

The Marunouchi Skyline.

The sptolessly clean grounds at the Tokyo Imperial Residence.

Nijubashi, the Double Bridge.

Statue of Kusunoki Masashige, a famous 14th-century samurai.

Kusunoki Masashige

We only had one free night at our hotel, so we had to find accommodations for the rest of our stay. We spent some time in the hotel business center, using the website Japanican.com to find our next hotel. Again, we were gloriously unprepared for this whole trip! What can I say? We just go with the flow, man! Anyhow, we eventually found something in Akasaka, which was a bustling business district. Venturing out for coffee and lunch each day, we found the area clogged with suit-wearing salary-men and office-ladies. It was a really nice hotel, though; the Hotel Monterey. We got a really good deal on it, too. Thanks, Japanican.com! (note: I have not been paid by Japanican.com for this, but it sure would be nice!)

Roppongi     六本木

After moving to our new hotel, we decided to head out that evening to the infamous Roppongi area to see what all the fuss was about. It was an interesting area, with a lot of weird architecture, but, for the life of me, I just don’t know how to find any of the action down there. Where was all the insane nightlife? We couldn’t figure it out. It actually seemed pretty dead. It may have been a Sunday night if I recall, and very cold, too, so I could understand why no one was out.

Welcome to Roppongi!

A London bus-themed party bus on the streets of Roppongi. In retrospect, we probably should have popped in there to check it out.

Roppongi Hills Shopping Tower.

Roppongi backstreets. Insert Lo-fi Chillhop Study music stream here.

Like I said, interesting architecture.

We finally decided to enter what looked like a restaurant. On the outside, it was a large, windowless, wooden building. One could not tell at all what the vibe inside was going to be like, something I’ve come to realize is common in Japan, where homes and businesses alike are designed for total privacy from the outside. We opened the door, and were surprised to find a HUGE dining hall, noisy, and filled with people, including a lot of foreigners. Totally by accident, we had found an inviting place! We dined, enjoyed, and called it a night.

Shibuya and Harajuku     渋谷と原宿

The next day we went to Shibuya, which we were most excited to see. We got to see the famous Shibuya Scramble, saw the Hachikō statue, and spent an epic amount of time exploring the inside of Shibuya 109, the iconic shopping mall filled with boutique clothing stores, mostly for young women. On the top floor, we saw a store called Titty & Co. which was literally the funniest thing we had ever seen in our lives. It’s still there, I think. It was there when I visited in 2016.

Shibuya 109 Men’s. The more famous Shibuya 109 (for the ladies) is at the Scramble, just up the street. Why on earth do I not have photos of the Scramble and Shibuya 109? smh.

The statue of Hachikō, the loyal pup famous for waiting here in the same spot for 10 years for his master’s not-forthcoming return.

Shibuya Hikarie shopping tower. This looming green hulk caught my eye and I couldn’t wrap my head around what I was seeing. It looked like something out of Robotech. Turns out, the building was under construction at the time, and all that green stuff was netting to protect the street from construction debris.

Shibuya was the coolest! It was bustling and noisy. There were vans driving around blasting pop music and advertisements, and there were tons of fashionable young people walking around shopping.

Somewhere in Shibuya.

A funky little record store in Shibuya.

Edges of Shibuya. I liked this area. I felt like I was deep within the beast; totally immersed and lost in the megacity.

We popped into a shopping mall in Shibuya and stopped at a shoe store to look at all the sexy high-heeled ankle boots they had on display. I was like, these are HOT! And my girlfriend was like, “yeah, I could rock those,” so we gave them a look.

A clerk came over to help us, a young woman, but of course, we couldn’t communicate. My girlfriend just started pointing at shoes, hoping to get through that she wanted to try something on. Now, at this moment, the song Auld Lange Syne was playing over the PA which, and I didn’t know this at the time, is the universal signal in Japan for “we are closing.” So I think the girl was trying to tell us it was closing time, but she wasn’t getting through to us, and she called her manager over.

The manager was a fashionable, young hipster dude, and when he arrived we started pointing at shoes again, and he kept trying to tell us they were closing. Finally, frustrated, the guy began walking away and beckoning for us to follow him. He reached the end of the aisle, gestured at his watch, bowed deeply, and pointed, with a sweeping flourish of his arm, to the door. We were literally shown the door, KICKED OUT, of a fancy shoe store! We were totally embarrassed, but we simply found the whole experience too funny to be upset about. We apologized, realizing our folly, and left, laughing, as we emerged into the street.

Later, our friend set us up with one of her friends, a fellow English teacher, whom we met in the area. He showed us around while telling us all about Japanese culture and had a late lunch with us before guiding us over to Harajuku where we parted ways. We enjoyed the colorful scenery of Harajuku’s Takeshita Street while admiring all the entertaining shop names, like Store My Ducks, and Junky Special.

Takeshita-dori in Harajuku.

Shinjuku     新宿

We spent the following day in Shinjuku. First, we spent some time trying to figure out how to use an internet cafe so we could take care of some logistics—we didn’t have working phones here, if you can believe that. That took far too long, but afterward, we went over to Shinjuku Gyōen, a huge national park in the center of the city.

Upon entering the park we noticed a small exhibition going on inside one of the park buildings. There, a half-dozen or so old men had gathered to display their hobby-crafts—small, wooden statues of birds that had been painstakingly carved and painted by hand to look like real birds! They were so incredible, so impeccably crafted, I couldn’t help but stay for a long time examining them all.

As I got ready to leave, I wanted to tell the talented grandfathers what I thought of their work. I opened up my Japanese-English dictionary and approached the men. I walked nervously toward them, looking into my book, and could see them eagerly awaiting my words. I could find only one, but it landed perfectly. “Utsukushii,” I said, (“it’s beautiful!”) and their eyes lit up as they let out cries of appreciation for my compliment. It was a truly happy moment for me and, it seemed, for them as well.

Shinjuku Gyōen itself was an ocean of serenity in this otherwise cacophonous city. The sun bathed the park in warmth on this perfectly clear winter day, and a calm silence pervaded. The glistening towers of Shinjuku soared beyond the treeline, watching over the peaceful setting like mountainous, silent guardians. It was a heavenly scene, and we lingered there for hours just soaking it all in. This was the moment when I truly fell in love with Japan. That such beauty and peace was possible in one of the busiest, most electrifying cities on earth was awe-inspiring.

Entering Shinjuku Gyoen.

Hey, something for everybody!

Shinjuku Gyoen was an ocean of serenity.

Shinjuku skyline.

Finally pulling ourselves away from the blissful park, we made our way on a long march through Shinjuku to the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building and went up to its observation deck. From there, some 200 meters up (656 ft.), the vastness of Tokyo stretched out before us as we gazed in wonder at the immensity of it all. I marveled at how tiny all the buildings looked; even ten- or fifteen-story buildings looked like toys from up there. We spent well over an hour on the deck, looking down on Shinjuku’s tallest office towers, mesmerized, as the sky turned from blue to orange to purple, and as the city began to light up with a million twinkling electric lights.

Back through Shinjuku we marched!

These trucks drove around and around blaring loud advertisements at the pedestrians.

Tokyo Metro Gevernment Building.

Up, up, up!

Even tall buildings looked like toys from up here.

Shinjuku’s dominating office towers, or as I like to call them, the Gods of Tokyo!

Study in Purple.

After that, we marched back into Shinjuku where we walked the neon-lit streets of the entertainment district, Kabukichō, dazzled and confused by the visual noise of shops stacked upon shops with their glowing signage packed into every possible foot of space. It was too much to take in all at once; too many choices. We didn’t know what to do!

Kabukicho!

The Gods of Tokyo!

I think it was this night, however, that we discovered the magic that is Don Quijote, the wacky, zany, discount junk and anything-you-can-think-of stores—quixotically named after the Cervantes character of legend—that can be found in most major metros in Japan. After playing in “Donki” like kids in a candy store, we went across the street to a restaurant that we thought had an interesting and enticing name: Neo Tokyo Fooding Bar, Mysterious!

What we found inside was strange indeed. The interior was very dark. The walls, and everything else, were painted black and the only lighting was from the purplish glow of black-lights. We were instructed to put our shoes in a locker, as is typical, and we were taken to our seat. Each booth was like a small, metal cage, again, all black, with a small overhead light for the table. This was an izakaya, a place where you can order drinks and small plates, snacks, and desserts to go with your beverages. The theme was some sort of gothic futurism and it would have fit right into a scene from Bladerunner or The Matrix. We were thrilled with the place and with how delicious our drinks and our chocolate mousse dessert were. Again, this place, too, was still around when I passed by in 2016, you should check it out. It’s like a few doors down from the Donki in Kabukichō.

Asakusa and Sensō-ji     浅草と浅草寺

The next day, we went out to Asakusa to see the famous Sensō-ji, a major temple in Tokyo. You know, the one with all the big, red lanterns? We made our way down Nakamise-dōri, the shop-lined path to the temple, amazed by the sheer variety of trinkets and souvenirs on offer. At the end of the path was the great Thunder Gate, Kaminari-mon, towering over us. We passed through the gate and saw the temple and the adjacent pagoda. It was all so massive, and impressive, with the stark red of the temple structures jutting up against the steel-gray sky. Here, people crowded around the incense basin, getting a purifying smoke bath before heading up to pray before Kannon, the temple’s patron deity, the Bodhisattva of compassion.

Nakamise-dori, the path to Senso-ji lined with souvenir stalls.

Kaminari-mon, the Thunder Gate.

Visitors getting a purifying incense bath before praying at the temple.

A chill buddha statue in the area.

We thought this sign was just too cute! “I can get my food by myself!” :3

While I was standing in the plaza snapping photos, an old man started talking to us. Of course, we couldn’t understand him, and he seemed to be getting more and more excited as he spoke. In our confusion we were having trouble remembering how to say wakarimasen, meaning “we don’t understand,” and the man became visibly agitated, loudly haranguing us and issuing curses. Thankfully, a middle-aged woman, his daughter perhaps, intervened for us and got the man to leave us alone. I don’t know what he was upset about, but he was definitely angry about something, probably all us dang furriners! That was the only time we ever felt any animosity toward us in Japan . . . well, except for maybe at the shoe store, but . . .

After spending a good deal of time at Sensō-ji, we weren’t quite sure what to do next, so we just sort of wandered off, and ended up next to the Sumida River where there was a riverside parkway. It was a cold, gray afternoon and the park was kind of desolate. I felt a kind of lonely sadness permeating the air. Across the river, we could see the new Tokyo Sky Tree, still being constructed. That was pretty exciting. I had never seen anything like it. It’s too bad we couldn’t visit it yet. Finally, we walked from there back to Sensō-ji, still sort of aimless, still sort of feeling that lonely feeling, before heading back to the hotel for a rest and, then, out to Akihabara.

Gee, what’s that over there? I dunno. Let’s walk toward it. Okay…

A riverside park of lonely sadness by the Sumida River. I’m sure it’s nice in the summertime.

Across the Sumida.

Tokyo Sky Tree, still under construction in 2011.

Akihabara     秋葉原

Akihabara, as you all know, is the otaku capital of the galaxy, where electronics, video games, anime and manga stuff, toys, collectibles and geek paraphernalia of all sorts can be found. I like anime to an extent, but I’m not a super-geek for this kind of stuff, though it was pretty cool to see it all. The place was eye-popping and colorful. We wandered in and out of shops, looking at all the wondrous menagerie. We wound our way up through hive-like retail towers packed to bursting with all manner of knick-knacks and curios.

Akihabara!

Akiba, for short.

A literal wall of gachapon toy vending machines.

Walking back to our hotel in Akasaka, I noticed for the first time the Aston Martin dealership that was right next door. I realized that we were in a ridiculously expensive neighborhood and thought about how out-of-our-league this all was, but also about how lucky we were to be there. And how lucky we were to have been able to come to Tokyo at all.

Probably the first time I had ever seen as Aston Martin in person. This one is totally my vibe. I love the black and white, and the shape. Ooph!

Sayōnara . . . for now     ひとまず、さようなら

The next day we were heading home. We were exhausted. It had been a long week full of new sights and sounds, new experiences—equal parts bewildering, frustrating, entertaining, confusing, and astonishing—new foods, sometimes strange, sometimes familiar but different; and a lot of walking. We were sad. Or at least, I was sad. It was that sense that the adventure was over, and that soon we would be returning to our normal, not-so-interesting lives. The feeling was especially strong for me as we waited, seemingly for an eternity, in an almost empty subway station for our train back to Narita airport.

Is it possible to fall in love in the blink of an eye? I say it is! Hello and goodbye, my love!

Japan is like a drug. When you experience it for the first time, it gets you high, so high that you never want to come down again. And when you do, you have to have more. After Japan, nothing else is good enough anymore. The rest of the world becomes a colorless, ugly tedium, and you can think of nothing but chasing that kaleidoscopic high again. I had taken the drug and I wanted more.

I know Japan isn’t perfect. I know it has its own set of social woes, some common to all nations, some unique to Japan. But to me, Japan is a country of boundless beauty—the landscape, the cities, the culture, the people! Even when I have felt lonely in Japan, I still took solace in the fact that I was surrounded by beauty everywhere I looked. And surprises await around literally every corner! I fell in love with Japan, and I knew I had to return to it someday. During that week in Tokyo a seed was planted within me, and from that moment a dream was born. Somehow, someday, I would return.

Goodbye, Japan . . . for now.

Well, I hope you have enjoyed reading about my first trip to Japan, that infamous first trip that I’ve mentioned to so many people over the course of studying Japanese, meeting classmates, and Japanese teachers and friends curious about why I chose to learn their language. Now you know! This is how it all started!

終わり End

Tanuki Hunt!

狸を探しましょう！　Let’s find tanuki!

The air is cool and the leaves are crisp, and in many places that means it’s hunting season! And we’re hunting a special sort of critter! No, we’re not gonna go out and murder cute little animals, we’re gonna find ‘em and photograph ‘em! We’re hunting tanuki, the lovable teddy-bear-like raccoon creature of Japan!

In my travels around Japan I noticed that almost everywhere I went there were statues of tanuki placed at the entrances to homes and businesses alike, and I thought, what is this about!? I took a lot of photos of tanuki statues around Japan, and it turned into a regular tanuki hunt. I wanted to share some of the photos with you all as a fun aside to my regular travels, and I wanted to find out why everyone puts tanuki statues outside their front door.

Now, I thought tanuki weren’t actually real, that they were a purely mythological creature popular in Japanese folklore, but it turns out they are a real thing. The tanuki, or Japanese raccoon-dog, is a canine species related to foxes that have a raccoon-like appearance. However, the tanuki features prominently in Japanese folklore, too. The mischievous creature is said to be a shape-shifting master of disguise, with a jolly and bumbling personality, that likes to play tricks on people.

Virtually all the tanuki statues I saw were exactly the same, only differing in size; some were tiny as a mouse, and some were as big as a panda bear. Famously, tanuki are depicted as having a comically oversized scrotum and are quite easily recognizable because of this. The tanuki are also depicted wearing a large straw hat and carrying a walking staff and a sake bottle, giving the tanuki the look of a wandering drunkard. They also regularly carry a promissory note, or an “I.O.U.,” suggesting that they never pay their bar tab.

It seems that tanuki statues are placed outside of homes and businesses, especially restaurants and izakaya, as a sort of good-luck charm. The tanuki’s oversized undercarriage and round belly is said to represent expanding wealth, and so the tanuki is considered a charm for luck with money. This must be why it is placed outside of homes—to bring good fortune to the household! Placed outside of restaurants and pubs, their round belly, sake bottle, and the silly look on their faces seems to say, “Welcome traveler! Come relax and drink with us!” welcoming customers to come in and spend their money, performing a function similar to the familiar maneki neko, or beckoning cat, ubiquitous in so many shopfronts throughout East Asia.

So, here’s a slideshow of some of the tanuki I spotted out in the wild…

Here’s a big one standing next to a vending machine outside of a small, family-owned eatery in my neighborhood in Kyoto.

This roly-poly tanuki fits in nicely at “Bear,” a cafe by morning and a bar by night.

Another little guy next to a shop entrance. Notice the prominent … er, well, I’m sure you’ve noticed by now.

Peekaboo! Hiding under a restaurant’s plastic food display.

Here’s a huge tanuki and his associate standing outside a place in Sapporo and decorated for the Christmas season.

“RAWR!” Outside an izakaya in Tokyo.

This one was inside a hostel I stayed at outside of Hiroshima. With his hat, staff, and sake bottle, he’s ready for an adventure.

Here’s a small tanuki tucked away inside the entrance to a small restaurant in the Gion Shirakawa neighborhood.

And a couple of little tanuki hidden in the little garden at the end of the tatami mats inside the same restaurant.

This tanuki was spotted somewhere around the Philosopher’s Path.

Near the entrance to a restaurant, the sign forbids bringing in food from outside.

A large tanuki for the garden.

Here’s a cute display with tanuki in a variety of poses.

These two sit in a home garden just inside the gate, waiting to welcome guests.

Ensuring this monument is well charmed.

A tiny garden tanuki.

Oh! Hey little guys! Almost didn’t see you down there!

There’s a large tanuki standing outside of a rather fancy house. I guess this one has been doing his job well as a prosperity charm.

This tanuki’s having a wee. Watch out!

And finally, a somewhat menacing tanuki with brightly glowing eyes perched outside of a love hotel somewhere in Tokyo, next to a fountain that’s surrounded by tiny rubber duckies… Oh, Japan!

“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings; Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”

 

 

 

I hope you enjoyed my tanuki photos. Below is an amazingly thorough resource for tanuki art and mythology, so if you want to really dig into tanuki stuff—or anything else related to Japanese art/folklore—check it out!

http://www.onmarkproductions.com/html/tanuki.shtml

Other sources:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japanese_raccoon_dog#Ongoing_popular_tradition

https://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/2008/07/15/news/tanuki-genitals/#.XBbwGeJ7nIV

http://www.onmarkproductions.com/html/maneki-neko.shtml

終わり　End

Autumn at the Philosopher’s Path and Nanzen-ji

November 2015…

With autumn in full swing I decided I would go out for a stroll, but not just any place would do. I wanted to walk someplace where I could take in the fall colors and breathe the fresh autumnal air. So I went out to the famous Philosopher’s Path to follow in the footsteps of the famous scholar who, it is said, used to walk this lane in deep contemplation.

哲学の道　Tetsugaku no Michi

The Philosopher’s Path, or Tetsugaku no Michi (哲学の道), is a walking path on the eastern edge of Kyoto, edging up alongside the mountains that gird the city. The philosopher Nishida Kitaro is believed to have strolled this path in meditation on his way to work at Kyoto University back in the early 20^th century. Today, it is a very popular spot for tourists and locals alike to go out for a relaxing stroll, especially in spring to enjoy the sight of cherry blossoms, and also in autumn for the spectacle of momiji, the fall colors of the Japanese maple tree.

The path begins at the east end of Imadegawa-dōri, where if you go straight you’ll be on the approach to the Temple of the Silver Pavilion, Ginkaku-ji. If you veer to the right, however, you will be on the Philosopher’s Path. The path follows along the route of an old stone canal, in the shadow of Mount Daimonji, gently winding south and lined by homes and small businesses. Many of the businesses are boutique shops or cute cafés where you can shop or enjoy a nice coffee while admiring the mountain scenery. There are also a few temples and shrines along the way.

The Philosopher’s Path!

The approach to Ginkaku-ji.

This view along the path caught my eye on more than one occasion.

Nearing Nanzen-ji.

 

南禅寺　Nanzen-ji

At the south end of the path lies a large area full of Buddhist temples, including the impressive temple, Nanzen-ji. Nanzen-ji is a major Zen Buddhist temple, first established in the 13^th century, and ranking the highest among all of Kyoto’s Zen temples. The temple is most notable for its giant black gatehouse, the Sanmon. Constructed of wood, the entire structure appears to have been charred black, which is, I believe, a way to prevent fire, although I’m not certain that this is really the reason for the blackened visage, maybe it is just weather-blackened. It looks very cool, though. Visitors can ascend a stairwell up to the top of the gatehouse for a spectacular view of the surrounding area.

the Sanmon

The view from the Sanmon.

All around Nanzen-ji is a park-like area, forested, full of natural beauty, and many other temple sites. It is a perfect place for sightseeing, enjoying fall colors and relaxing in nature. Another impressive site is the old aqueduct. It was built in the Meiji period and runs between Kyoto and Shiga Prefecture on the other side of the mountains. A moldering yet impressive red-brick structure, it is quite a surprising sight set against the backdrop of ancient temples.

Many people were out that day enjoying the scenery, some wearing kimono to get into the spirit of the occasion, and many taking photos of the lovely fall foliage.

Kimono and momiji at Nanzen-ji.

All in all it was a day well-spent. Crisp, fall air, a vigorous walk, and a little momiji made this a perfect day out in Kyoto.

終わり　End

Sources:

https://www.japan-guide.com/e/e3906.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Philosopher%27s_Walk

https://www.japan-guide.com/e/e3905.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nanzen-ji

Heian Jingū and Ginkaku-ji, the Silver Pavillion

2015年9月25日

It was the final day of my eight-day long marathon sightseeing excursion around Kyoto, Japan’s cultural capital. The day was overcast and muggy, but we would not let the climate dampen our spirits; for we had much more to see this day. Today, our journey took us from the Heian Shrine to the Temple of the Silver Pavillion, Ginkaku-ji.

平安神宮　Heian Jingū

Our first stop was Heian Shrine, or Heian Jingū. Heian Jingū is one of the country’s major Shintō shrines; a “jingū” being a shrine associated with the imperial family. Built in 1895 in commemoration of the 1100^th anniversary of the foundation of Heian-kyō (Kyoto’s original name), the buildings are slightly scaled-down reproductions of parts of the original Imperial Palace. Also a part of the shrine campus is a giant vermillion torii, one of the largest in Japan, and probably the largest one I saw (unless the torii at Meiji Jingū is bigger).

The shrine grounds were impressive. A vast, perfectly flat, geometrical space paved with gravel, flanked by impressive, sprawling structures of crisp lines and eye-popping color, a space that can be described as no less than imperial in its grandeur.

Here we stood in awe and feeling very small for a while before deciding to pop around back to see what we could see. Out back we found a deep, dark, green forest park with a large pond and a viewing bridge. It was a very pleasant surprise indeed. In this place one could easily forget that one was still in the middle of the bustling city.

After a long, relaxing soak in the cool of the forest, we hopped in a cab that whisked us quickly over to the Nanzen-ji temple complex. There, we explored the area before making our way to the famous Philosopher’s Path which would take us to our final destination, Ginkaku-ji, the Silver Pavillion. I will save Nanzen-ji and the Philosopher’s Path for another time (see them here!), as I have many great photos from a number of visits, but for now…

銀閣寺　Ginkaku-ji

Ginkaku-ji, also known as the Temple of the Silver Pavillion, is a Zen Buddhist temple originally constructed in the late 15^th century as a place of rest and relaxation for the Shōgun Ashikaga Yoshimasa. It was here that the Shogun sat in contemplation while the Ōnin War raged around him and the city burned. The temple, having been inspired by the design of its sister temple Kinkaku-ji, was intended to be wrapped in silver foil, as the other had been wrapped in gold. This final detail never came to be, however, and the temple remained unwrapped, yet still lovely in its stark simplicity.

The Ginkaku-ji complex lies nestled at the foot of Mount Daimonji, and near the northern terminus of the Philosopher’s Path. It is a small compound, set back in the forest, ensconced in nature. After you enter, you take a circular path around the compound, taking in the site of the temple, as well as that of a meticulously crafted sand garden, known as the “Sea of Silver Sand,” the silvery gray color of which does invoke its name. A tall, perfectly sculpted mound of sand, flat on top and called the “Moon-Viewing Platform,” and said to represent Mount Fuji, dominates the garden.

The path tracks around the temple and garden, then up the mountainside a little ways, giving you a view from on high. Descending from the mountain path and out again into the streets which, like many approaches to famous tourist sites, are a bustle of little souvenir shops and cafes, we hopped in another taxi and made our way back into the city where, finally resting my aching feet and legs, we enjoyed some beer and grilled meat skewers before calling it a night.

Thus concluded my “Eight Days of Adventure” around Kyoto, an adventure driven by the fact that I was a new resident of the city, and that my wonderful girlfriend had come to visit me there, followed by two of my best friends from back home in Portland, and we all wanted to go out and see as much as we could while we were all together in this absolutely magical place. I want to thank them all for being a part of such a memorable experience. I also want to thank all of you for reading, and I hope you have enjoyed my stories and photos so far. ありがとうございます！

終わり　End

Kurama Fire Festival

鞍馬の火祭り

October 22^nd, 2015

On a cool, crisp October evening, after having spent the day at the Jidai Matsuri in Kyoto, I traveled with some friends into the mountains north of the city, taking the train to the end of the line, to a place called Kurama. We were there to see the Himatsuri, the Kurama Fire Festival, and boy, it was lit! (Haha, see what I did there?)

Every October 22^nd, in the tiny little mountain town of Kurama (鞍馬), they hold a fire festival in honor of the local shrine, Yuki Jinja (由岐神社). On this night, at sundown, the local families light torches outside of their homes, and then a parade of men and local youths carry giant torches up to the shrine. The procession is a reenactment of the ceremony held when the shrine was first moved to the village in the year 940 (https://www.japan.travel/en/spot/67/) (https://www.japan.travel/en/spot/50/).

This festival must be pretty popular because when we got there the place was packed! This was by far the most crowded place I had been in Japan, which isn’t exactly known for its sparse population! It was organized chaos, however, as the crowd was herded, quite literally like cattle, along a prescribed route through the little town, urged on by a horde of police officers. People were packed together, shuffling along the path, cameras and smartphones held high to get pictures of the parade.

Packed crowds to see the Fire Festival

Blaring, smoky chaos

It was cold up there in the mountain village surrounded by forested peaks, much colder than it had been back down in the city. But the air was crisp and filled up the wonderful aroma of a campfire in autumn. Along the town’s main street, men in traditional garb, and some children, were marching slowly, hoisting massive torches on their shoulders and chanting, nay, shouting, a ritual incantation that burned as bright as the flames themselves. For the young people, carrying the torches is a rite of passage, and for the men, a feat of strength and bravado, the torches weighing up to 80 kilos (176 lbs.)! The blaze from the torches bathed your face in a warm glow, a welcome sensation in the chilly air.

Another tradition that goes along with the Fire Festival is that many families display their family heirlooms, including samurai armor (https://www.japan.travel/en/spot/67/). Here, I was able to see one family’s proud display, a shrine to their samurai ancestors, complete with armor and swords.

Family shrine with heirloom armor and swords

I do apologize for the blurry photos. For the first few months I was in Japan I had my camera set to the wrong settings, and couldn’t figure out what was wrong with it; and night photos proved especially messy. But, in a way, the blurry photos capture the essence of the festival that night, as we were rushed along the path, awash in the glow of passing torches, the event seemed to pass like a blur, only a few fleeting moments captured by the lens and by the eyes alike. If you ever get a chance to see the Kurama Himatsuri, I suggest you take it. Despite the crowds, it’s a worthwhile experience.

終わり　End