The Beaten Track

We were met in the Singapore airport by Joon - our Couchsurfer. We already know two Couchsurfers (JD and Pak) who stayed with us in Edinburgh but they, like many Singaporeans (and Japanese!) live in apartments too small to have visitors. In fact, later on we heard the the rental market in Singapore is really odd and it's common for landlords to stipulate "no Chinese or Indians" and "no cooking". Anyhow, JD had put us in contact with Joon who turned out to be one of the most polite and helpful people we'd ever met. He'd just had laser eye surgery so was seeing everything slightly blurry and sporting a rather smashing pair of 3D-spec style shades. He suggested getting a taxi back to his place as the metro would take an hour and a half. We'd only just arrived so took his advice - it's always better to trust the locals! Little did we (or Joon) think that due to the Singapore rush hour, the taxi ride would take even longer than the metro would have taken. The taxi driver had the radio on so we could hear the traffic reports telling us how bad the traffic jams that we were stuck in actually were. We eventually arrived at Joon's place where he made us a fantastic pizza and we grilled him on all of Singapore's rules to make sure we didn't get fined. Singapore is famous for it's rules and hefty fines, in particular on the metro system which include eating/drinking ($500/£250), smoking ($1000/£500) and no flammable goods ($5000/£2500). There's also a "no durians" rule which doesn't seem to carry any fine - more of those later. We also chewed the fat on how and where to get the visas we need for our South East Asian leg - he'd printed out all the forms for us. What a man!

We woke the next day and after breakfast Joon took us on a tour round Singapore including the Chinatown and Orchard Street with its crazy modern architecture - Singapore is a really interesting mix of buildings, most of which are actually pretty cool. At lunch we got our first taste of Singapore's greatest obsession - food! There are three main cultures in Singapore: Chinese (who came as traders), Indians (who the Brits brought in as workers) and Malaysians (who were kinda there in the first place). There's also a hotch-potch of just about every other nation you'd care to name including many Phillipinos (like Joon himself). This mix of cultures has led to an amazing mix of cuisines being readily and cheaply available. The best place to get them is in gigantic hawker markets which are like massive covered areas filled with wee stalls where you can get your noodles/curry/unidentified fishy objects/tastebud's desire. There's so much of a choice that I thought Charlotte was going to run screaming into the hills but luckily Joon was able to point us in the right direction. The Singaporean way is to join the longest queue as that's the best indication of where the good food is.

Joon had to head off in the afternoon and we were due to meet up with JD and a whole load of Couchsurfers that evening so Charlotte and I decided to take it easy and go see a movie. We ended up watching the latest Danny Boyle movie "127 Hours" about the guy who gets his arm trapped under a rock in a gorge. Like most Danny Boyle movies it was horrible but exceptionally good - it was nominated for several Oscars. Afterwards (felling a bit queasy but hoping it would ease enough for us to eat) we found JD who took us to an upstairs bar where there were already a load of Couchsurfers from Singapore and the rest of the world. We had a bite to eat and a couple of beers (which were stupidly expensive due to the high taxes) and headed off to another bar. I don't think that anyone had planned for the extreme numbers that we ended up with- the guy who ran the bar was very confused and told us (once we'd ordered and got our drinks) in no uncertain terms that there would have to be one person in charge who'd be given one bill and expected to pay for it in some way or another. We all looked blank enough to make him change his mind so eventually he ended up going along the line taking bill payments from small groups. He didn't look very pleased...

The next morning we met with JD who took us to a Thai shopping centre which turned out also to be the place to buy our bus tickets to Melaka, where we were to head in a couple of days. He also took us to Little India which, as the name suggests is where a large chunk of the Indian population live. It was quite a different world from the modern Singapore we'd seen so far with loads of open fronted shops and a number of gorgeous temples and mosques. We also had a very exciting jaunt around a supermarket (always fun for us but other people often seem dismayed as how the local supermarket can fill us with so much joy) and a massive department store called "Mustafa's" - the Jenners of Singapore if you like. Charlotte was in the market for an mp3 player so we took a look at the massive electronics shopping centre and decided that the iPod knock-offs were a false economy. Joon met us as JD had an appointment that afternoon and we went mp3 player shopping in earnest. We settled on a wee 4 GB "Creative Zen" which was about £35 - very cheap by UK standards and appropriate as Creative is a Singaporean company. We then managed to get to the 70th floor of a very tall building with a restaurant/bar at the top so we could get a view over the city. We got a particularly good view of a building which the top floor is a ship - weird!

After meeting up with JD and munching some more hawker food, it came time for one of these tests that folk often put you through to see how well you're adapting to the culture. The Singapore test is the "durian" test - it's a spiky fruit which is banned from the metro many indoor places as it smells so bad. Inside it are large seeds covered with a yellow much which tastes like creamy fatty rotten raw onions. We ploughed our way through it but didn't like it so we probably failed the test. Joon wasn't too keen on it either so we didn't feel to bad.Luckily the antidote was a fruit called a "mangosteen" which was lovely and got rid of the horrid durian taste. After the test it was party time - the birthday of Miname who is originally Japanese. It was great for us to meet other Couchsurfers who could furnish us with plenty advice for S.E. Asia and we even got the chance to play a couple of tunes for Miname's birthday. Incidently, the party was in Singapore's red light district - Geylang but luckily for us, it seemed to be in the classy bit.

For our final day in Singapore JD took us for some more hawker food and this time dictated the menu so we could have a try of some local dishes. At one point, a most interesting and revealing question arose...

JD: Do you like cockles?
PRM: Oh yeah, definitely!
JD: Have you had your Hepatitis B vaccination?

We didn't have the cockles in the end but we could have done as we've both been vaccinated. After lunch JD had managed to get us along with Miname and her boyfriend Jerome free tickets on the "Singapore Flyer". It's pretty much a replica of the London Eye and gave us a smashing view over the city. We usually avoid purpose-built tourist attractions but this was actually really nice. That afternoon was the weekly Couchsurfer's game of "Ultimate Frisbee" which is a bit like a cross between Frisbee and Football. We decided just to watch as the heat and humidity were killing us but it was lovely just to chill out as the game was held in the gorgeous Botanic Gardens. It was also significant as although Singapore has a load of ethnic communities, they're not too good at mixing with each other (sound familiar?) but this game was like a united nations with Singapore, Germany, France, India, China and even the UK to name but a few. Truly integrated and I hope the shape of things to come. It was really interesting to catch a glimpse of the Singapore ex-pat culture. Back at Joon's place we drank mojitos and chatted into the night. Joon was a great Couchsurfer for us not only for his helpfulness and welcoming nature but also for his interest in cooking. A couple of days before we'd had his caramel flan for breakfast which was one of the best we've tasted (and we've had a few now!).

Melaka (in Malaysia) was our next destination which was quite a contrast to Singapore. It was much lower and flatter and at first glance seemed pretty down-at-heel but actually had some quite nice bits. Our box-bedroom was quite bizarre with a sofa underneath then a stair up to a platform where our bed was. It was pretty cosy but stupidly hot. We did have A/C mind which made things more bearable but it seemed a toss up between tropical humidity and Arctic cold. We had a look round before settling on a place to eat by the river - again the food seemed to be amazing wherever we went. For the previous couple of weeks we'd had a pretty mad time so we made a decision to take thing easier for a bit to avoid destroying ourselves. This idea kind of went to the wall when it came to buy our bus tickets to Kuala Lumpur. We'd arrived at the but station "Melaka Sentral" the day before and taken a taxi but this time we wanted to try our hands at the bus. We'd been told that there was a bus stop up the road where there were buses every 10 mins but this turned out to be a lie - something we figured out after half an hour or so. We decided to wander for a bit to see if we could spot another bus stop and found a shelter round the corner with a couple of people in it. We then spotted the bus we were supposed to catch but it just went hurtling past without so much as a "how's your father?". We walked around for about half an hour more (felt like an eternity in the heat), getting a bit frustrated. Mystery bus! We then asked in a shop who pointed us to another bus stop rather similar to the first one we'd tried. Another half an hour's wait later we were about to walk away when we spotted another bus...joy....but it went hurtling past as well. We decided to wait at the sheltered stop for a normal bus that the real people take and one eventually showed us and took us to where we wanted to go. Getting back was much easier and after our crazy bus-hunting we decided to shelter from the heat by chilling (literally) in our A/C room (fridge). Later we took a look around the historical bit of Melaka which was really nice and had a lovely former-governer's mansion (another former UK colony here of course, although the architecture is originally Dutch) and a great church. It was funny the contrast to a historic building in the UK which would be well looked after and preserved. This church was tumbling down and had graffiti all over it, hawkers outside and a guy busking inside (he wasn't too bad actually).

We had a lucky break for dinner as the hostel owner had invited us to join him and his (girl?)friend to go to the "local" market for some street food (as opposed to the one that the tourists go to). This was great and he was very good at explaining what things were. We eventually had an egg/meat pancake thing, some dim sum, some offal-on-a-stick, and a kebab sandwich - all of which were fab. We also had some really odd drinks which folk in Malaysia sell from enormous ice-cooled buckets. One of them had some kind of jelly and possibly rice at the bottom! There was also a guy skinning a snake - in a good way as snakes shed their skin anyway. I think he was some kind of medicine guy. We even had some durian flavour ice-cream which I have to admit was a great improvement on the fruit itself. In fact it would actually have been nice if we didn't have the original durian taste lodged firmly in our minds.

We arrived in Kuala Lumpur the next day which, according to everyone we've met I must call "KL" to remain cool. It was our first bus in South East Asia and didn't have a toilet despite the 4 h journey - that seems to be the way here so much bladder tightening will be in order! We had an interesting arrival at our hostel - no sooner were we in the door when we saw a large ginger cat chasing a large brown rat across the floor. Much fun ensued as the hostel owner and various other staff members attempted to trap it in the corner with brooms and shoe-racks. Every so often it would go belting past and I would have to point out to the chasers where it was. I think they eventually caught it or chased it away but it brought back memories of our friend Scott Gardiner singing "Alexander's Mill"...

Fur we hadnae got right yokit' when a dirty twelve inch rat
Cam jinkin' ower the hay-ricks and it killed the big fat cat
Well Alexander rubbed his hands an tae ma faither said
"It's of these little incedents a thrashin' day is made"
But it crawled up his trooser leg, he manovered wi great speed
He catched it at the kneecap an he crushed its bloody heid.

Luckily no-one's trouser leg was scaled but true enough, "It's of these little incidents a world tour is made". The hostel turned out to be in a great location for a local market with loads of open cafes so we frequented one and had some chicken and beef satay sticks and a kebab. All were fab.

We were now in a stage of the tour when we needed to address a necessary evil - visas (we'd given up the idea of getting them in Singapore). We can get into most countries gratis with our trusty UK passports but we do need visas for Vietnam, China, Mongolia and Russia. We also thought we should try for Thai visas as if we get one crossing the border we only get 15 days in the country (it's 30 if we go in via an airport). We took ourselves down to the Thai embassy, filled in the form the form and sat down to wait. It looked to be a long wait so I read some of the notices on the wall which said folk from the UK get 30 days on entry. We decided then to give up and take our chances in Thailand either with 15 days and then an extension in Bangkok or maybe even just staying for 15 days and heading on. Instead we went over to the Chinese embassy which was much more modern and organised. They had us fill in the forms, photocopy our passports and hand them over to be returned in 4 working days. It was a funny feeling being separated from my passport. I always think that whatever happens, I have a passport and I can get on the next flight out of the country but now I had a weekend where that wasn't an option. I'll admit that it took me a while to get used to the idea. We took a wander and some lunch in Little India before heading back to the hostel to research our next move. It was lucky we did as the most impressive monsoon started outside with some crazy thunder and lightning. The street started to fill up with water and we spotted rats being flushed out the drains.

We met up with Adida that evening - she's a Couchsurfer from just outside KL who had volunteered to give us a cookery lesson. Charlotte had put a message on a KL foodlover's couchsurfing group, cheekily asking if anyone wanted to teach us how to cook, and Adida had enthusiastically replied. In fact she went and organised a little dinner party with her own couchsurfers and some friends of hers! But no sooner had we met her and we'd got to her car when we discovered that it had a flat tyre. Much wondering about the next plan of action ensued when the second discovery was made - Adida had lost her keys. Luck definitely didn't seem to be with her! There was a certain amount of handbag searching and mild panic before we tried the door of the car which turned out to be open with the keys still in the ignition! Much surprise and relief that the car hadn't been broken into followed. Adida 'phoned a couple of people and eventually her friend turned up who helped us take off the wheel and drove Adida to the pump station to get it pumped up (we reckoned it had been let down rather that punctured which was made it all the more surprising that the car hadn't been broken into). After a bit they came back, we re-fitted the wheel and we were late-but-off to the grocery store. (Later still because the traffic was insane, and Adida treated us to some very frightening Malaysian driving. A lot of it involved finding new motorway lanes in between the lines.) Adida bought some chicken ribs (which you don't usually see in the UK), cucumbers, a pineapple and some chillis and showed us how to select the best of the fruit and vegetables. Back in her apartment (and several crazy KL traffic jams later) we met with her Couchurfers Andy (German but just returned from Indonesia) and his girlfriend Fi Fi (Indonesia), and Sylvia (a local CSer). Charlotte, Sylvia and Fi Fi helped with the cooking and I wrote notes as an amazing chicken dish with coconut milk, tatties and some local spices was prepared. It was accompanied by a cucumber/chilli/carrot pickle which Adida spent a long time adjusting the salt/sweet taste of the vinegar. That was particularly interesting for me as I love pickles of all types - one to remember. We had some yellow sticky rice with it and to follow a bit of pineapple dipped in a surgery powder - what a feast and what a great lesson for us! You can find Adida's recipe on the recipes page of course! As we were so late Adida was in full-speed panic mode so we could get back to our hostel without too much bother (we were in a town outside of KL). She is about half the size of Charlotte and very scary and determined - it was a sight to see! I was a bit concerned about how to get back to our hostel but Sylvia was good enough to drive us to a place where we could get a taxi. We told the driver where we wanted to go and he gave us a price. At this point I forgot two things: a) you need to negotiate and b) it's illegal for a taxi driver in KL not to use his meter. That means we were undoubtedly overcharged. Oh well, lesson learnt.

We took another wander about KL the next day and took a look at some of the really touristy areas. Although we usually try to avoid them they can be interesting in terms of showing you how a country presents itself. They were so much cleaner and better-kept than the rest of KL but also (and predictably) much more expensive. The rain started again that afternoon just as we were due to take our fiddles to a park to play (outdoors) for some Couchsurfers! This was an event organised by our next host, Rica, who had taken it upon herself to set us up as an evening's entertainment act and invite a whole load of KL's couchsurfing community. So, we dutifully wrapped the fiddles and our bags in plastic bags and set off hoping things would calm down a bit so the event could still go ahead. Luckily for us the rain had eased off a bit by the time we reached the station, but when we got out of the station there was no park to be seen. We wandered around blankly for a bit (carrying all the bags and fiddles) until we ran into Andy from the night before. He showed us to the car where Adida was, who pointed out the lake to us. We got to it but couldn't find the people we were supposed to be finding until eventually, two wee kids came running up to us and beckoned to follow. We did and right enough, there was Rica and her partner Stefan and these were her two kids. After a bit Adida, Andy and Fi Fi showed up before a whole load of other people and more kids (who seemed to take delight in mucking about with the fiddles when we weren't looking). Songs, tunes and dancing ensued including another rendition of "Tatties and Herring" which always seems to go down well (folk love the actions). We even had a go at a song we'd learnt together although I kinda ended up making up the words that I'd forgotten. The local Malaysians gave us a rendition of their national anthem in return. They insisted that they all needed to stand, and needed a flag. So, armed with one of the stickers we'd bought for our fiddle cases, they slowly raised the flag as they solemnly sang the anthem. Good stuff! Definitely one of our most bizarre gig scenarios. Afterwards, Rica took us to another hawker centre for some food but the kids were beginning to expire so we headed home and crashed out.

Rica drove us to the bus station the next morning to catch our bus to the Cameron Highlands. It turned out to be the craziest bus station yet. The usual bus station in KL is under re-furbishment so instead they've put up a semi-permanent marquee in the car park of the stadium that was used in the Commonwealth Games. It was an insane place. You could hardly get at the makeshift counters for people shouting at you on the way in (where you go? where you go?) trying to sell you tickets for a commission. We were adopted by one unbearably persistent woman but we eventually shook her off and found the desk with the company we'd seen named on the hostel notice board. We managed to buy our tickets but not without the rep from another desk trying to make us go with her company and slagging off the one we were buying from all the while.

When the bus came it was old but seemed OK. The journey was pretty uneventful until just after the toilet stop, when the driver drove into what can only be described as a bus graveyard with bits of buses and old buses with chickens living in them all over the place. Without any explanation to the passengers, a bloke came on and started dismantling the gearbox, pulling and fixing for something like an hour and a half. We eventually got going again and all seemed fine until the bus stopped again and what seemed like the entire population of Malaysia got on. It turned out that as it got closer to it's destination it became a kind of local bus (there was even a woman who got on to collect fares). An odd guy tried to make me budge along so he could get a seat but he was given short shrift as I was in no mood to be messed around with by this point. He then tried to say stuff in broken English - he may have just been practising, I don't know. Thankfully, over time people got off so the place cleared but when we got to Tanah Rata we vowed not to go with that company again. Thankfully, the hostel we'd booked (on Rica's suggestion) turned out to be pretty nice so we went for a bit of food in one of the local food centres and crashed out.

I should mention here that the Cameron Highlands holds a special resonance for me. Glynis' dad (my grandfather) was there during the war - I mentioned him before in the Japanland post as he was in charge of Japanese POWs. He'd always said he would take my grandmother there one day (and to Singapore as well) but unfortunately never did. It was great for me to be there as I could try and imagine him as a young man trailing around behind a mischievous group of Japanese POWs who were trying to avoid working!

After breakfast the next day (pancakes and curry sauce - we just followed what the locals were having!) we got to see how lovely the area was by going on one of the marked hikes. Because it's higher it's a lot cooler than the rest of Malaysia and so is really good for growing the things that can't be grown at sea level. There's loads of farms growing cabbages, strawberries and asparagus but the speciality is tea, of which there's loads of on sale in the town and served up with scones in various eating establishments. In fact, the town was seriously obsessed with strawberries. Every other turn there was strawberry merchandise, but weirdly no actual strawberries. That walk became a sort of embodiment for the 'on the beaten track' metaphor. The walk was the easy one everyone went on, in the place everyone goes to in the country everyone on our sort of trip visits. Plus is was pretty beaten. We saw a giant millipede at one point and, as you may have already read on Facebook (thanks Charlotte) I managed to kick an iguana in the head. It was an ACCIDENT I hasten to add (before anyone 'phones the RSPCA) and the iguana didn't seem to fussed - I apologised and moved on. That evening we had scheduled to deal with some internet-type stuff but when we plugged our laptop in horror-of-horrors, the worst had happened and it wouldn't charge. It had actually had an issue since Cuba in that the power connection seemed a bit dodgy but a wee wiggle would soon set it right. This time it just flashed charging/battery on and off constantly to the extent that it wasn't charging at all. It stayed alive long enough for me to get the address of the repair centre in KL before the battery went. I thought I coped pretty well given how attached I get to laptops and how important this particular one has become and there was only a certain amount of gnashing-of-teeth before I settled down with my book instead.

We bought breakfast in the grocery the next morning and headed off on a wee trip tp the tea plantation down the road. It was about a 4 km walk but the person in the tourist office had said that it was OK to walk there. It was along the main road mind which was pretty hairy but eventually we got there and took a wee wander around the plantation. We'd been hoping to see a factory and get an idea of the tea-making (fermenting) process but it seemed that that was somewhere else so instead we opted to have a cuppa in the shop - a bit of a touristy thing I guess but it seemed appropriate to drink tea while overlooking the plantation. Very British colonial. We got back to the town and went on another hike. It was a loop route but when we got half-way-round the path seemed to peter out. We decided not to be deterred (but were also mindful of our Hawaiian adventure and didn't want to get lost in the jungle) so we headed to the start of the trail and followed it the other way, hoping to find where the two ends met. It turned out that if we'd kept on the first way we would have been fine but we're getting much more careful as we progress in this trip. It was a nice walk though and we got a good view from a wee summit and at one point found ourselves in quite a cool ruined hut.

It was time to head back to the big city next morning so after an uneventful (thankfully!) bus ride we went straight to the Chinese embassy to pick up our visas. Rather surprisingly, they'd given us exactly what we asked for which was double entry (ooh er) visas valid for 6 months from the date of issue and 60 days once you enter the country. Perfect! The next task was to fix the laptop so we found the repair centre at the top of a shopping mall. The guy there plugged the laptop in with the charger he had and lo-and-behold-no problem! This was a bit of a relief as it meant that all we had to do was replace the charger rather than take the laptop to bits. The repair place didn't have one so we went searching round the IT centre at the bottom of the mall. We tried a few places but it seemed than no-one would repair the charger - we'd have to buy a new one. At one point a particularly interesting conversation ensued when I tried to persuade a bloke to solder on a new jack rather than replacing the whole charger. I was told that that would be illegal as the electrical supply in Malaysia is quite unstable (his example being that his lights flash when he turns on the hoover). This I understood but I couldn't see the connection between this and him not being allowed to solder a new jack on our charger. I told him I couldn't see the connection between the two to be told that "you do not understand because you do not study". I showed a lot of restraint by not wheeling out the list of my qualifications and instead thanked him and told him I would go and study. Interestingly enough, he didn't seem to notice the "University of Edinburgh" T-shirt I was wearing. After a bit more searching we found a nice chap who sold us a new charger. We decided to celebrate by going to Pizza Hut for a bit of food-that-we're-used-to. Our celebration was a bit premature as when we got back to the hostel the power would still go occasionally but we realised that it was just the charger overheating due to the hot climate. For the moment, the problem seems to be solved (huzzah!).

Our bus to our next destination wasn't until late the next evening and by this point we felt we'd had enough of exploring KL. Therefore we did our usual standby activity and went to the cinema. "The King's Speech" had been out for ages and we were both keen to see it so we found a cinema showing it and totally loved it. In fact, I reckon it's the best movie I've seen in a year if not two and well deserved of the Oscars it won.

We had another overnight bus which was pretty uneventful and we were cornered when we got to the bus station by a guy selling ferry tickets to where we were going. It seemed like the proper thing to do so we bought our tickets and after breakfast and a slightly tricky manouver to get our stuff into the wee boat, off we went - destination: The Perhentian Islands. It was probably the most terrifying boat journey I've ever been on - the sea was pretty rough and consequently the boat would lurch up at the front before coming crashing down with a thud. Water is like concrete when you hit it at speed. We had to rescue my fiddle case from being soaked by the spray. There were a number of other backpackery types on the boat and also a Swedish family with some young kids who looked pretty terrified. Some Swiss girls we'd met in Tanah Rata had told us that everyone in the Perhentians is Swedish. This is the Truth. Eventually we arrived at our destination and fell on our knees to thank the Lord that we were still alive. We were on the wrong side of the island for accomodation as the sea was still too rough for the boat to dock on the right side. It was a short but none the less hot and sticky walk to the other side though (with a couple of GIANT lizards on the way) and after a bit of too-ing and fro-ing we found a place with chalets that we liked, booked in and at this point for three days, life just stopped.

This brings me to the title of this post. For most of our trip thus far we've avoided other backpackers but for a lot of the South East Asia leg we've been in the thick of them and no place more so than here, Perhentian Kecil. We've been agonising as to whether this matters or not as so far on this trip we've had so many unusual cultural experiences that other backpackers don't get- largely as a result of our friends and Couchsurfers. We've been getting used to the idea now and decided that it didn't matter as it's all experience anyhow. On Perhentian Kecil it really didn't matter it wasn't a place to come to to experience people and culture (as most places we look for), it was a place just to hang out and take a rest for a few days, something we were really needing to do. I can't get into beaches and seas and the resulting culture in a big way but I have to admit after all the mad travelling of the last month, being in a situation where there wasn't much to do (and no internet) was actually really great. It was particularly nice as the next day (4th March) was my 31st birthday so we decided to treat ourselves to a snorkelling trip. There were loads of people with boats and gear offering to do it so we found a guy we liked and off we went on another crazy wee boat ride. He wasn't really a snorkeller, just a guy with a boat and some gear so it was just as well we'd already had a go in Hawai'i. The first place we went was "Shark Point", we didn't see any sharks but we did see some gorgeous fish and some amazing coral. It was a lot more wavey than the trip we'd done in Hawai'i and by the time we'd finished at "Fish Point" (even more amazing fish in shoals that would swim at your mask), our second destination, Charlotte was felling pretty seasick. She couldn't get off at "Turtle Point" so as she puked over the side, the guy searched for a turtle to stalk and I jumped in when he found one. I followed it for a bit and then crashed into a load of people who hadn't been there before. Charlotte told me afterwards that the folk in the other boats had seen me get in, assumed that I'd seen a turtle and all descended on me at once to disturb my peace. The turtle didn't seem too bothered though and just basked on the bottom . It didn't seem to be doing much so I went back to the boat and when I was there, I saw everone else swimming along behind my turtle. I went back and joined them and followed it for a bit, a big beautiful, graceful animal which just moseyed along minding it's own business while we all flippered along behind it. Back on land (and despite Charlotte's seasickness) we decided that snorkling was amazing and were really glad we'd had the chance to do it. We did a lot more lounging around, had some of the BBQs on the island and generally chilled out for the rest of our time on Kecil. A wee bit of a holiday from the holiday and I decided that sometimes beaches and seas were OK, but I still didn't like the feeling of sand in my toes.

We were to head west next as we'd decided not to cross the Malaysian/Thai border on the east side (Foreign Office says No). By crossing on the west side we could get a train all the way to Bangkok and skip over the dodgier bits. To this end we stopped off for a night in Kota Bharu which really has very little to offer other than a place to stop before crossing the border. We managed to get a taxi from where the boat (which wasn't so crazy this time, or maybe we were just more prepared...) with a German/Russian couple who were going the same direction. I'd been taking more care over my stuff and I had to lock and unlock my bag a few times in the taxi to get money. Becuase of this, I managed to leave my key lanyard in the taxi. My reaction was very odd. It's not really important or expensive but it is something I'm rather fond and proud of as it has "First Aider, Trained by the University of Edinburgh" on it and also has a resuscitation mask. I was pretty upset to lose it - I tend to get more homesick than Charlotte, largely because I've lived either with or very close to my family and the place I grew up (Penicuik/Edinburgh) for a long time. There's a number of little things I have that remind me of home and this was one of them so I was pretty upset. I felt daft later as it was such a wee thing but I guess to an extent I'm finding stuff out about my own thoughts and attitudes. It's a journey of discovery man! I've also found that I hate sharing laptops (even with Charlotte) and I like to know where my next internet connection is going to be. Sad but true. We didn't do much else in Kota Bharu other than admire the hostel's litter of very new kittens but we did get the chance to take in another night market where there was a guy making pancake/omelette things at high speed - pretty impressive!

The hostel owner drove us to the bus station the next day where we caught the bus to Georgetown. We met our Couchsurfer, Rick at the bus station there and he took us back to his apartment. It's funny how it's called "Couchsurfing" but we've never slept on a couch yet. Rick had a lovely double room for us with Air Conditioning! We took in yet another night market with him (we never tire of them) and he made sure to order us the local food that we should try - probably the best we'd had yet in Malaysia. On the way back to Rick's place we spotted a Tesco - we'd actually seen quite a few of them in Malaysia and Singapore and there was even the odd branch of the Royal Bank of Scotland - looks like the Malay peninsula still maintains a wee connection to the UK!

Georgetown was a lovely city. This was where the British had first landed in Malaysia and as a result it was full of gorgeous colonial buildings. There was a great selection of Buddhist and Hindu Temples and Mosques as well. We were admiring one of the Mosques when a couple of nervous looking girls asked to interview Charlotte on camera - we reckoned they were studying tourism. We made sure we had the local "Laksa" for lunch. It's a noodle dish you find all over Singapore and Malaysia but it has a number of regional variations. Here it's a sort of fishy soup and with it we had a very odd drink which the lady said was "olive juice" but Rick told us afterwards that it was a kind of plum. We met Rick that afternoon and he took us round another temple and showed us the secret passages which the locals had used to escape from the Japanese during the war. We also stopped for coffee as Penang has a unique way of making coffee by frying the beans in margarine. I decided to have an iced coffee for a change and decided that it was good and I should experiment more with iced coffee and tea at home. We then visited a giant Buddhist temple - the largest in SE Asia in fact. It was stunning and massively elaborate. In true tourist style I was clicking away with the camera and everywhere I pointed it there was a fantastic photo to be taken. We saw a pond full of turtles which people bring as offerings - they didn't look like they were well cared for or in particularly good condition. Rick also drove us to the top bit of the temple where there was a massive statue of the Goddess of Mercy who looks over the city - rather like the Jesus statue in Rio. We had a look at the reservoir which was close by and got a great view. I was able to bombard Rick with all the questions I'd been dying to ask about Malaysia.

That evening back at Rick's place he made us a great nonya curry (Malay/Chinese fusion) which as with all of our food experiences you can find on the recipes page.

The nest day was our last in Malaysia and it started with a lie-in before some curry for breakfast/lunch and then temple-tastic times. We started with Hainan temple and then took in the Thai and Burmese temples close to Rick's home. The Thai one had one of the largest reclining Buddhas in the world which was pretty impressive but it was all a bit glitzy for us. We much preferred the Burmese temple which was slightly more understated but none the less impressive and had some stunning carving. We have noticed a big difference between the Japanese temples and the ones we're seeing here. The Japanese ones were all pretty old and traditional but the more Chinese-style temples are red and gold to the max. They have no qualms about bringing in the modern and putting fairy lights all over the statues as well!

In the evening we met up with two of Rick's former colleagues from when he worked for Intel. Kevin was from Devon but now lives in Amsterdam and Gerry was from Dublin. We went to a Chinese restaurant and had their speciality fish dish (with deep fried fish bones that were a bit like pork scratchings) and loads of other great food. They were lovely chaps and we had a great evening chatting away. They'd been on a two-week business trip around Asia taking in China and Vietnam so there were a great source of advice for us. Back at Rick's place after we educated him in the ways of UK traditional dance (Morris!!). Rick was a brilliant host - we had a fantastic time with him and are very pleased we re-routed ourselves to cross the border on the west. Thanks Foreign Office!

Rick was good enough to drive us to the station the next day where we caught the train heading to Bangkok. This was a kind-of-sleeper train when the seats turned into beds with a pulldown bed above. We were sitting next to two folk from Portland, Oregon. The guy was trainspotter and seemed to know about the trains and lines in Malaysia and was very concerned as he was convinced that the train was heading south (towards KL) rather than north. He kept looking at his map, asking the guards (who didn't really understand what and why he was asking!) and generally pacing around. His wife seemed lot less worried and I wasn't really worried at all as we already knew a good hostel in KL if we ended up there and anyway, the train was clearly Thai and the setting sun was on the left hand side so we were definitely going north. Right enough, eventually they handed out the immigration cards and we arrived at the border where it was an easy crossing into the "Land of Smiles"!

Finally - I'm typing this sitting in the lobby of our hostel in Bangkok watching the live footage from Japan. That's two countries we've visited (along with new Zealand) that have been hit by devastating earthquakes. Luckily, most of our Japanese friends are in the south and therefore little affected by it but they will certainly have friends and relatives in the north that they'll be concerned about. Our thoughts go out to both the people of Japan and New Zealand - a horrible thing to happen to such nice places and such nice people.

Ritual drama, snow, and manga porn

Mari-san met us at Oji station, and took us home, warning us to remember the way as we'd have to find our own way back tomorrow. Scary. That evening she was cooking gyoza - the 'Chinese style' (although the Chinese call them Japanese) dumplings she'd mentioned before. It involved making filling-mixtures, and then a fiddly folding of the flour papers. The recipe can be found in the usual place along with the video of Mari-san and Yu-san making them! Soon I will be an Expert Japanese Chef. If only I could master the whole rice cooking thing. To my delight, Yu and Mari presented us with a few gifts - some dried fish and seaweed and things, and a book on 'Shinto in History' - perfect!

As usual, for our next day's excursion (Kyoto), there was a Master Plan for us to follow. It was very impressive - we had a getting up time (bright and early), bicycles to ride to the station (too early for the bus), and a printed out map with all the key highlights of Kyoto marked, including several other zoomed in maps for detail. No chance to get lost or confused. There were also details of train times to go there and back, and some English versions of street names, all presented to us in a clear plastic folder.

The next day all went smoothly and to plan. Mari-san cycled to the station with us so we would know the way (she was expecting us to come back unaided - she can't be there to babysit us the whole time). We parked the bikes in a special bike-park where we paid a small parking fee.

Kyoto (of the Agreement) was bitterly cold, and on several occasions it tried to snow. But we could tell why it had its reputation as a lovely city. We imagined Hiroshima must have been something like that before it got flattened. It was full of temples and interesting old streets. We must confess that despite the plethora of detailed instructions and maps, we did get a little lost. But that wasn't a bad thing - we found a whole maze of little streets (oh, and a cool graveyard like a mini city of skyscrapers) with interspersed temples and shrines to explore and photograph (we've been unashamedly clicking away - there's so much that's different!).

We spotted a couple of Maiko (trainee Geisha girls) wandering around, and found a really cool artist who does grotesque sculptures. Also fun was visiting the posh food shops - you would go in and be offered a cup of tea while you tried samples of all the different things. Sample-tasting in Japan is a great pass-time for a tourist, I think. I was particularly surprised by all the different pickles!

After we'd had our fill of that area, and realising we really weren't where we thought we were, we spent a little time getting re-orientated (inexplicably turning up on the other side of the map in a short space of time - we really were confused) and hunted for lunch. We've discovered that Japan actually has amazing bakeries. Kiyoshi-san noted that Japanese people are naturally not capable of eating so many sweet things (and so are particularly susceptible to diabetes) so cakes and European-style sweeties are not traditionally part of the cuisine. But lately these things have started to infiltrate the shops, and if it's anything the Japanese do well, it's, well, everything. The cakes and breads and things don't really look or taste like anything you'd get in a bakery back home, but they do look and taste beautiful. This is a muchly desired lunch for us, if we can't face/afford battling with the plastic food displayed in a restaurant.

Up until this time we'd seen very few other Western people - even in the obvious tourist destinations. So anyone you happened to pass, your eyes would meet and a kind of look of brotherhood and fellow-feeling would pass between you. In Kyoto, us Westerners were everywhere - we were definitely more on-the-beaten-track now.

After lunch we decided to break up the constant temples with a trip to palace and castle. On the way we passed through the official 'Maiko-zone' to see if there were any more apprentice Geishas about. It was difficult to gather what sort of role they play in modern society, but in the past they seemed to be sort of professional 'escorts'/entertainers ('Geisha' means 'performance-person'). All through the zone were exclusive looking restaurants and mysterious doorways. Intriguing.

The palace was situated inside a giant public park - although unfortunately it was impossible to even catch a glimpse without getting a special tour. The outer walls are high, and buildings low. Foiled. The castle was similar, but, well, we had some time and hadn't bought much, so we got tickets. It was late in the day and things were closing up, and a loudspeaker told us to hurry up and visit the palace section first. This was the bit where the Shogun (warlord, we think) gave audience to various feudal lords. It was so beautiful and old and strange. I could imagine shoeless people in heavy clothing pattering politely up and down the paper-clad corridors among all the ancient artwork. Trying to patter, anyway. The floorboards were designed to squeak to prevent people from sneaking up on the inhabitants. We had time to nip round the rest of the grounds (just missing out on a tea ceremony demonstration) before a tinkling version of Auld Lang Syne played over the loud speakers, telling everyone to go away. I'd heard that it was the 'going home' theme tune in Japan, but it was still really funny to hear. I suppose it does have a sort of finality, end-of-day feeling to it. We also find it hilarious how the Japanese appear to be trained to do/expect different things at the playing of different music. Like the 'bibbly-bibbly-bibbly-bip' of 'train approaching', and the French film-music style 'Shinkansen stopping at a station.' Obedient to the music, we headed home to our hosts, and even managed to cycle back in the dark no bother. If only Edinburgh streets were that flat.

Mari's friend Ikumi came over that evening, as the next day (lunar new year) was a public holiday. They gave us a little explanation of dates and things - the lunar calendar is used, though not as much as in China. And they mark the passing of solar years completely differently - I was really surprised. For example, the date stamped on our JR pass was 23.2.3 - 2 and 3 were the month and the day, but 23 was the 'Japan year'. That meant that it was the Emperor's 23rd year of ruling. Each time period begins with the 1st year of the new Emperor, and is recorded 'name of Emperor, number of years.' We have been educated!

After dinner we had a briefing for next day's excursion (it's non-stop! We were pretty exhausted) - Nara. This is the main town to which we were staying on the outskirts of. There was another set of maps, and a walking route marked plus another warning not to let the deer eat our JR passes. They're considered to be messengers of the gods and you're not allowed to reproach/hurt them in any way. As a result they roam the streets getting fat off 'deer cookies' which people buy to feed them.

The next morning was a blanket of snow with more falling, so we were glad of the lift Ikumi-san gave us to the station. It was even colder than it had been already, so we'd resorted to the old trick of wearing all our clothes at once, with the added bonus of chemical handwarmers (Yu-san swears they're the secret to Japanese legendary life-expectancy rates) tucked into my mittens.

Everything was really beautiful in the snow, although we must again confess to getting completely lost and consistently failing to follow our designated route (we think we managed to make it all up again and see all the bits, even in the wrong order). I was presented with further evidence that the Japanese really have thought of everything: in the Ladies toilets there's often a cubicle-less mini-urinal with a low sink next to it. No, this isn't yet another bizarre toilet technique, it's for mothers to teach their little boys the ways of men's toilets!

There was one beautiful shrine up a hill in Nara with particularly lovely dangling cloths. These were for devotees to grab hold of and bang a bell with (to get the god's attention). Then you throw money into a trough, bow twice, clap slowly twice, and bow again (presumably saying your prayer at some point). You can also write your request on materials you can buy from the shrine (different in each place) and hang them up for the attention of the gods. It's a very human approach to deities in a way - they won't notice you until you make some noise to get their attention, then they will read your request (I suppose you're reminding them it's there). The bell ringing/gong banging thing is interesting because in Western traditions I always feel like it's the opposite - to get people's attention and call them to prayers. I'll learn more once I've read the book Yu-san and Mari-san bought for me!

It was cold and wet, so Paul and I found a nice heated restaurant with lots of hot tea in it, and had our first attempt at Ordering By Ourselves (essentially by process of logic matching the plastic food to the translation on the menu and pointing). Satisfactory results!

Then we got lost some more, watched a deer eat someone's map, and eventually remembered that we'd brought a compass. Problem solved! It was a lovely day - Nara is a gorgeous place. I recommend it. But we had a schedule to keep - we were due to meet Mari-san and Ikumi-san in the car at 5 at the station to go to Grandmother's house. As I mentioned the Japanese have thought of everything, so we'd already put a few overnight things in the car and were ready to go.

As today was Japanese New Year, the family had planned something special and cultural for us. We drove to Yu and Tsuru's mother's house, where she was waiting at the side of the road with huge smiles. She couldn't speak any English, but she was a great communicator - with enthusiastic mimes. We knew who she was as soon as we saw her - she looks just like Tsuru! She lives in Hota (also part of Nara), which is a very old and traditional village. Her house was such a contrast to the ones we'd visited so far. They'd all seemed quite Japanese to us, but this one made them seem veritably Western. It was over 100 years old, and made up of lots of screen doors, an outer corridor, and some inner rooms with a small personal shrine. She also had an outhouse of sorts where the old kitchen would have been, but now contained the shower and shed. She's a proud gardener, and her garden is beautiful. The house was freezing (due to paper screen doors, probably!) so we all huddled in the kitchen/dining room with one of those marvellous heated tables, and Grandmother brought out big padded Japanese coats which we piled on.

We had a few cups of green tea, while Mari and Ikumi disappeared to get us good spots for the Otaue ceremony we were going to next. It's a ritual drama performed just outside the temple for new year, for fertility and to encourage the growth of rice. Suffice it to say, from my ethnology background, I was very excited.

It was quite a small gathering there. When we arrived we found we'd missed the shaman/priest purifying the participants, but people were still gathering for the performance itself. Mari had (very kindly) written us a translation of the explanation sheet. She wrote that the 'Otaue' ceremony is very popular and varied in Japan. 'Otaue' means 'rice planting', and at this time devotees pray to the gods for a rich harvest for the year The ceremony particular to Hota is called 'Kodeke-onda' - 'Kodeke' meaning 'a child is born' (as one of the characters is an expectant mother). They don't know when this Otaue ceremony started in Hota, but there is old language and customs in the ceremony, and it is said that Kodeke-onda has taken place since the Heian period (around 794-1185AD).

The temple was lit up by lanterns, which was very pretty, and there was a buzz of excitement from the assembled children who were to be taking part. They had all removed their shoes (each given bags to put them in) and were crowded round the edges of the stage area. Traditionally it was only men and boys who performed, but more recently girls have been included too (no women). Yu-san never took part when she was a girl, for example.

After a lot of to-do and announcements and proclamations, things got underway, and we all huddled inside our giant traditional Japanese coats for warmth. There were 2 main dramas. To start with men acted out a number of little scenes whereby they were hoeing the ground/planting rice/cultivating with oxen, etc, whilst children threw stuff at them and shouted (they were playing the winds). After each of these scenes the children would all rush at the actors and pile on top of them, attacking them as 'the storm'. But each time they would be overcome and the farmers' rice would be successful.

The whole thing was light-hearted, fun, a community event. There was something about the way the actors played the roles which was almost tongue-in-cheek. This was clear when, after the first play had finished, a couple of small kids looked round at me and started screaming. Well, for a moment I thought it was me they were looking at. Actually, they were screaming at a man dressed all in white and with a painted white face approaching. All the adults laughed. He was playing the expectant mother. It seems that drag is funny wherever you go, and this fellow had a particularly fine mince.

After a little dialogue with the leader of the ceremony (who told him/her to take lunch to his/her husband in the field, being careful of his/her step), (s)he tucked a drum under his kimono (pregnant tummy) and shuffled daintily around the stage (shrill lady noises now and then). Children attacked him/her in the guise of snakes and holes in the ground, but eventually she made it with the lunch ot the rice field. She had another discussion with the leader of the ceremony about how much rice her husband grows, what sort of thing she had in her kitchen, etc. Then there was a great commotion, a bang of the drum, and the baby was born. Mari-san explained that the sound of a drum is 'bon' in Japanese, which is also the word for 'son' in a dialect in Western Japan - so it's probably a pun of some kind. Lastly a final performer circled the stage sprinkling sacred rice with a call-and-audience-response about millionaires and sowing seeds of happiness in the world. We managed to capture some of the ceremony on video so along with a rather interesting crossing we spotted in Fukuoka, it makes up part of our "Japanland" video.

After the ceremony we went and collected bunches of camellia branches, which we were told were a talisman for a good harvest for the year. Farmers offer it at their household altar for the relevant gods, but ordinary people lay them in their houses for the well-being of their family. This concluded, we hurried back to Grandmother's with our branches, looking forward to dinner. She had made a traditional dish eaten on this day (whose name I forget) which was a mound of cold rice mixed through with various shredded things: raw seafood, pickled things, seaweed, and scrambled egg. It was really good. All in all, a great evening. Ethnologists eat your heart out!

Then everything became like a big sleep-over. Paul and I were given wheat seemed to be a guest room at the back of the house, whilst Grandma, Yu, Mari, and Ikumi camped out in the 2 furniture-less central rooms. Futons materialised all over the floor, with electric bed warmers and layers and layers of blankets. The next morning we ate the leftover rice, and I paid a visit to the shower in the outhouse, which was gorgeous and old-fashioned, and covered in blue tiles. Mari-san showed me big pots in which her grandmother was making ume-boshi (preserved plums used in Mari's recipes) and a plum-infused spirit. The night before we'd been given a little pot of ume-boshi to help with our travellers' tummies when we hit South East Asia. I was very excited about this as I'd become particularly fixated with them and their use in cooking (they taste horrible just by themselves). There's something about preserving processes which always fascinates me!

Today was to be a family outing to Osaka, but Ikumi had to go home. So she and Mari took our bags back to Yu's house (so organised). Grandma took us on a walk round the village in the new sunshine. It was beautiful, esp. with the snow gently dripping off the rooves. She explained things occasionally with big, smiley, gesturally annunciated mimes. Then we headed on the train for our next exciting destination!

When Grandma had been young, so they told us, Osaka was the big glamorous city where everyone longed to go. We got the impression that this trip was a bit of a birthday present for her (she'd turned 88 the day after my birthday), and there was another special treat in store for us - a Kabuki (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kabuki) play.

Kabuki is another form of traditional drama, dating back to the early Edo period (around the 17th century) and is distinctive to the Kyoto-Osaka area. Whilst up until this point a lot of Japanese theatre had been complex and philosophical, only appealing to the educated classes, this was the theatre of the masses (think Shakespeare). Important features were the colourful costumes, lavish stage settings, and all-male casts. Apparently at one point female actors had been introduced, but this as seen as far too sexy and they were banned again. So more stylised men-playing-women, then!

This particular play was a tale of family tragedy and revenge of fighting masters. It's a popular Kabuki play to perform. The show was starting at 11am, and outside the theatre were ladies with stalls selling very neat little packed lunches, so we stocked up. We took a quick tour round the busy streets nearby, before ascending many many flights of escalators to our seats at the tops of the theatre.

The whole format was very stylised, with white-faced 'women' on a constant moan, whatever the scene was about, wailing in high-pitched falsetto. The audience applauded every time an actor came on stage, and to our surprise members of the audience would shout things out at them. We couldn't work out what was going on for a while. Was this part of the show? Like a panto 'he's behind you'? Two men behind us were particularly vocal, trying to out-shout each other. Yu-san explained later that this was a custom at Kabuki performances - the shouters were supporters and were shouting out the actors' names. Sort of like, 'Go Matsumoya!' It was a skill to wait until a convenient point in the scene where it wouldn't disturb things. So we got used to the shouts of 'Matsumoya!' and were comfortable in our understanding of the system. Until we realised that the shouters were calling that name indiscriminately of whether or not Matsumoya was actually on stage. I felt quite sorry for the other actors.

At the interval another thing I've never seen in a British theatre happened - there was an almighty rustling as every single person in the theatre got out their packed lunches. After Yu-san had explained everything in the first act we hadn't understood (most of it!) we opened ours up too. It was very strange to sit at the theatre enjoying this mass picnic.

Act 2 came and went (with a really interesting take on fight scenes - they were never going to make it look convincing, so they made it look as unconvincing as possible with some dainty hand-gestures and opponents falling gracefully to the floor), and another interval allowed the crew to rebuild the set. There was the sound of much hammering coming from behind the curtain. They really did put in a lot to those sets - they were spectacular! It seemed that the play was going on for a lot longer than any of us had anticipated - we emerged blinking into the rain at 4 o'clock. Thank goodness for those packed lunches! Another fascinating cultural experience from our eternally generous hosts!

After that we took a look round a couple of Osaka's market areas. First was a mega food market, where we stumbled across one of the worst pet shops I've seen (although I'm sure there's worse to come). In Fukuoka we visited another and I was quite shocked by the dogs and cats living in tiny cages - creatures so pitiful you wanted to buy them just to rescue them from the shop. They also had a couple of owls tethered up for people to buy as pets, and an insane monkey bouncing around its cage (and that was a nice big shopping-centre store). At this pet shop there were hamsters in cages just big enough for them to rattle and pace backwards and forwards - they actually looked like they had obsessive compulsive problems. And little budgies crammed in so many in a cage they were crawling on top of each other. In fact the shop (which was actually a cupboard-sized booth) was floor to ceiling with stuffed-in birds. The only one with a bit of space was a myna bird which only spoke Japanese. Anyway, enough moralising over pet conditions. I'm hardly an animal rights activist!

Next market was for selling cutlery, crockery, and all sorts of kitchen appliances from big professional cookie-presses to all the cups and teapots you could wish for. They even sold those plastic things which show you what your dish will look like. I have to say, I quite wanted one.

Exhausted, we headed home (saying goodbye to Grandma on the way), on the way buying a farewell cake, as it was our last day with Yu and Mari. We showed them the European way of having tea and cake - with the extra addition of natural yoghurt on the side. They saw us off at the station the next day, as we headed towards Tokyo. We had a brilliant time with them and all of Tsuru's family - such a privilege for us that they shared their view of Japan with us!

Tokyo was a whole new world, especially after the peacefulness of Nara and Ikaruga. So rushed, so many Europeans! We made it as far as our subway stop before getting lost, but we were soon surrounded by a crowd of helpful Japanese people humming and hawing over our map. And so we sweated our way to the hostel (it may be winter, bit when it's sunny and you're carrying a bag that only seems to get heavier, it's hot!).

It was Sunday, and all I really knew about Tokyo was that on Sundays the crazy-fashioned youth gather at the Harajuku bridge. So we made our pilgrimage there. We alighted at the station and were greeted by a sea of people moving in both directions. Actually, the bridge was empty of its famed Harajuku girls posing for photos, instead populated by little gatherings of 'free hugs'-sign holders and one lone goth boy. No matter, it was a glorious day and we took a walk in neighbouring Yoyogi park.

We toured round the Harajuku shopping area later. And although there weren't many people posing on the bridge, there were a helluvalot of well- and interestingly-dressed people all over the shop. I realised Paul had a bit of a thing for Japanese girls! Paul's favourite shop was one called 'Condomania'. It was cupboard-sized, but packed full of curious punters. The guy at the counter looked deathly bored, and I got the impression people probably go there more to look than to buy.

Harajuku was worth visiting at night. The streets continued to be seething with people, and we found small streets with great 'alternative' shops. The Japanese must be among the most fashion-conscious of the world. I suppose a lot about Japanese culture is all about the presentation. We went to a little Italian place for pizza (because, well, sometimes amongst all the noodles and assorted sea creatures you need some comfort food) and it still had a smoking section, shock horror! Then, as everyone else on the street was doing it, a funnel of crepe with Exciting Things inside. There were so many stalls displaying so many plastic models of the fillings it took even Paul (yes, even Paul) a long time to decide what combination of cream/fruit/ice cream/cheesecake to choose. It was Awesome.

That night we discovered that the hostel was another of those which didn't believe in giving you anything but a thin duvet to sleep under, even in winter. Quite a contrast to the heavy layers we'd come to expect. Brrr. It also employed triple bunk beds, sort of like the capsules at the famous capsule hotels.

Monday was cold, and we had some recommendations of places to visit thanks to helpful Facebookers. Oh yes, and it was Valentine's Day! The Japanese were quite into it, but in all honesty I was half hoping to see something so ridiculous that only an Asian mind would be able to explain it. Never mind.

The Palace was closed, so that was the first thing to cross off our list. Then we went to Akihabara - electric town. It was just that - all the electronics you could wish for. Plus shops to cater for men who might be spending too long in front of a computer - namely porn. The district had a weird clutter of electrical goods, 'adult amusement parks', girls wearing dresses reminiscent of cute Victorian children handing out fliers (couldn't tell if it was for something creepy and pervy, or something completely innocent) and all the Anime and Manga a geek could wish for. Trips into comic shops (and they're BIG) revealed that most of it is some form of porn (getting harder the more floors you climb). The whole concept of manga porn is fascinating. It's a huge deal, and is extremely violent and explicit. Well, there's so much more you can do with a drawing than with real people. It seems to be a way of indulging extreme sadism and mild (although not always mild) paedophilia without harming anyone (except perhaps the cartoonist). I was starting to wonder why that was the only place in Tokyo Oliver had heard of to recommend to us...

Porn aside, we took trains and saw other places - huge department stores, toy shops which were frequented by adults, but weren't 'adult' (the Japanese thing for cuteness and gadgets again). As we braved the crowds in Shibuya that evening (the lights! the big pretty lights!) the rain became mingled with snow until we were both drenched and white-clad. We thought, 'sod it', and went for an Indian.

The snow was unexpected and surprisingly heavy. We decided to call it a night for our Valentines (not really, obviously I'm not that kind of girl!) excursion, and went back to the hostel to work out how to use the heater and huddle for warmth.

It was time to move on again on Tuesday, for the last of our super-organised Tsuru-trips. And by far one of the most exciting. She had arranged for us to stay in a Ryoken - Japanese hot springs inn. We'd already had our onsen experience with Kiyoshi-san, as Paul mentioned in the last post. I'd found it really daunting as I'd gone in alone, with no real idea of what to do and no-one who spoke English to help me. I had known about the getting naked with everyone thing, which didn't bother me (come now, I make my living being naked), but my big fear was that somehow I'd misunderstand, and get naked at the wrong time, or when no-one else was at all! So I'd spent a good 5 minutes peering furtively around the changing room, having a panic to myself. When I finally got the courage to go in, it was steamy and mysterious, with lots of shadowy bodies sitting in front of mirrors with showers. All around, old ladies were sitting and gossiping together, towels perched neatly folded on top of their heads.

It was quite a lonely experience, but it was good practise for the Ryoken, where there was even less information, and less people to copy! I have to say, being a native of Bath (a Bather?), slightly resentful of the fact that the Roman Baths are no longer in operation, it's nice to have something close to that experience. I love the Japanese bathing culture - and I would go to the public onsen all the time if I lived there!

So we got on our train and headed towards the Hakone region (not far out of Tokyo under Mount Fuji). This was an area where our JR passes wouldn't help us, but Tsuru instructed to buy a local pass, and we trusted her judgement. A misunderstanding over the trains left us going backwards and forwards between stations for a little while, but eventually we headed through the melting-snow landscape under sparkling sunshine. A little old-fashioned looking train took us up into the mountains along little tracks, tunnels, and snowy banks on either side. Train led to cable car, which took us even steeper up through the village, dropping us a short walk from the Ryoken.

The norm here was to don your kimono and live in it during your entire stay. Our room was a typical tatami multifunctioned room, with table and chairs during the day, and futon laid out on the floor at night. We put on our kimonos and slippers, and headed for our respective segregated pools for a dip in the natural springs (mmm, sulphur). It was a lot smaller than the big public onsen we'd been to - just an indoor and an outdoor pool. The only other people in the ladies' were a couple of Swedes, which I felt was quite fitting really. And they spoke English, so at last there was someone I could talk to! The bath looked out over snow-clad bamboo/conifer forest. It was so quiet, so peaceful. I want to go to spas more often!

Dinner was another adventure. We headed upstairs and a lady led us to a little enclosed booth with sliding door. Each guest had their own separate dining room (as though you can only see other guests when naked), with dinner already laid out. It was another array of lots of little things. Lots of fun. A short while after dinner we were also able to use the private bath with just the two of us - very romantic!

The following morning we took advantage of the baths again before another varied breakfast. Then we left our big bags at the hotel and went to see what our 'Hakone free pass' could do for us. Turned out quite a lot actually - it was well worth the money - thanks again Tsuru! We started off by seeing how far the cable car would take us, as we were curious to see what was at the top. But once we were there we found signs for 'transfer to ropeway.' We were curious to know what the ropeway was (raising memories of that fateful day in Hawaii). It turned out to be some gondolas (I always thought that was a type of boat you got in Venice). The free pass allowed us a ride, so we found ourselves soaring up over the snowy mountains in the twinkling sunshine, Mount Fuji to the left, sulphur steaming out of the rocks below. (Incidentally I love Mount Fuji. It's so Japanese - the most perfect and neat volcano-shape you can get. With perfectly arranged snow on top.) Beautiful.

At the end of the line you could transfer to another ropeway, so we did - twice as it ended up. We had landed next to a lake, and weren't sure what to do next. There were signs to transfer to a sightseeing cruise, but we thought, surely the freepass doesn't include that. But oh yes, it did! We found ourselves boarding a ferry dressed up as the HMS Victory, complete with Japanese guy dressed as Nelson. Very surreal.

We disembarked at the other side of the lake to see if there were sights to see. We eventually found an avenue of huge cedars (marked on the map) and sloshed along it through the melting snow to wait for our next replica ferry-costume (a pirate ship?) to take us back to the gondolas.

It was quite a random day, all in all, but we got some amazing views with that freepass which seemed limitless in its capabilities. But this was sadly our last day in Japan, so feeling relaxed and cheery from our nice easy day, it was a return to Narita - the last airport on the trip we were actually returning to. Second-to-last flight.

We stayed overnight in the town just by the airport (Narita itself) in a very nice hostel, then prepared our leave from Japan! We had such a good time here, mostly due to Tsuru and her family, who we are eternally grateful to. It remains the weirdest country I've ever been to, and definitely my favourite of the trip so far. Waiting to board our flight, we encountered an entire army of Japanese school-kids flooding down the stairs, all neatly turned out in their school uniforms (imagine having to go on a school trip your uniform!). In fact, there were only about 20 of us on the flight who weren't in the school group. And it was a big plane. So the last surreal moment of Japan - a plane full of Japanese school-girls!