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!

Japanland

It's always interesting to visit the site of a momentous world evet - we'd already seen the site of the World Trade Centre in New York. That pales into insignificance alongside this event though.

As far as I can gather, unlike the war in Europe the war in Japan was uneccesary and was (like World War I) really a result of a lot of millitary building and sabre-rattling on all sides. By the time the war in Europe had finished, the war in Japan was not going well as far as the Japanese were concerned and as a result, on July 26th, 1945 the USA, UK and China presented Japan with the Potsdam Declaration which called for Japan to surrender. It stated that "The alternative for Japan is prompt and utter destruction.". Japan rejected the declaration - the thought is, though, that they were prepared to surrender; they just wanted to maintain their emperor. The Allies weren't happy with that so on Monday August 6th, 1945, the atomic bomb "little boy" was dropped on the city of Hiroshima from the US-piloted aircrafth "Enola Gay" (named after the pilot's mother). A few days later another bomb was dropped on the city of Nagasaki. The Hiroshima bombing was the first time an atomic bomb had been used in active warfare. Thankfully, the Nagasaki bombing remains the last.

The death toll varies from some 100,000 to 100,500 people - you can imagine that it's difficult to know for sure when a whole city and its records were wiped out. It's reckoned that about 70 000 died instantly. It's difficult to comprehend such numbers but you get some idea when you realise that every little tile in the memorial monument represents one life lost in the bombing.

We're lucky that there's very little photos and videos of it - you can imagine that if it happened today the BBC and other broadcasters would have teams down there pretty quick despite the risks, and footage of the "ghosts" wandering round the city would be broadcast for all to see. There is some footage which we saw after our tour round the museum. It's horrible and uncomfortable, especially for someone from a country associated with making the decision to drop the bomb. The museum itself is really very good. It starts with descriptions of what Hiroshima was like prior to the bombing, before taking you through the "Manhattan Project" - the name given to the research and development work behind the bomb - and there's many photographs from the meetings of the various allied leaders involved. It's odd to see Churchill in this context - in the UK he's always held up as a great hero of the 20th century but here, he's one of the bad guys. After the Manhattan project it shows how the bombing itself was carried out. It's funny how as a result Japan has become the ultimate peace nation - much of the rest of the museum is actually a protest on nuclear weapons and the countries that still have them (including a big map with a nuclear warhead on Scotland) and set them off from time to time just to make sure you know that they've got them. In fact, in the museum there's a clock which has a readout of how long it is since the Hiroshima bomb was dropped and also, how long it was since the last nuclear weapons test. The second number was just less that 150 days when we were there. The last bit of the museum is the most harrowing as there you see what limited visual evidence there is of the bombing after-effects. I won't go into it.

There was one particularly interesting thing for me mind. My grandfather on my mother's side (John Hutton) was in Malaysia right at the end of the war looking after Japanese prisoners who'd been captured by the British. The museum talked about the Japanese invasion of Malaysia (which was British occupied at the time) so those would have been the guys that my grandfather would have met. He really liked them - in fact, on one occasion he was to take them to an area of the jungle where they were to be working. He didn't know where it was but was told that the Japanese guys did so they would take him there. Of course, they ended up leading him on a merry dance around the jungle in order to avoid working. Naoko-san told us about how it's thought that the bombing was uneccesarry as Japan was ready to surrender and it brought back memories of my Grandfather telling me the same thing. He thought that it was wrong and I have to say, I agree. No one deserves that.

Anyhow, it was time to leave the bombing behind and see what else the Hiroshima area had to offer. There's actually a huge amount more to see and do other than the bomb-related sites and Naoko-san has been putting together a tourist-aimed leaflet to try and encourage people to do more in Hiroshima. That afternoon we went to Miyajima which is an island very close to Hiroshima. It's the site of some fantastic temples and shrines, including a torii gate in the sea and a temple which is built into the sea such that it looks like it's floating when the tide is in. There was also plenty of food to try including eels and oysters (cooked an raw), all of which Naoko-san made sure that we tried. There was also deer which would eat your map or JR pass if you weren't careful! We also started to get an impression of how Japanese food is strongly regionalised - every area has it's on particular foods and in particular, sweets. Miyajima is the home of a kind of maple-shaped biscuit which we saw in all the shops.

Naoko-san bid us farewell back at the station where we caught the Shinkansen heading further south and west towards Kyushu, an island off the tip of Japan but connected by bridges. There we were met by Tsuru's brother-in-law Kiyoshi-san who is a chemistry professor at the university of Kyushu. He's the sort of guy you would describe as "one of nature's gentlemen". He took us out for dinner where we had the local dish which was a kind of noodle soup with various bits and pieces in it. Really good and warming in the cold weather. We headed to the University the next day walking from his apartment through fields where rice was grown (although not at the moment as it was winter) and polytunnels with strawberries (the strawberries in Japan are the best we've tasted). The plan was for me to give a research talk to some of the students - I'd managed to get hold of some of my talks from my dad who has my laptop and I'd pieced together a talk on the train the day before. The problem was that the licence for Powerpoint on our wee laptop had timed out some time ago so I'd had to use OpenOffice which is a bit of a minefield, and when I pulled it back into Powerpoint it had destroyed most of my slides. The only solution was to find a computer with Powerpoint - Kiyoshi kindly found one for us but it was an Apple-Mac (I'm a hardcore PC guy) and was in Japanese. However, after a bit of thrashing away and Google-translating I managed to get it together and gave my talk after lunch. We were a wee bit late so when we arrived all the students were already there and waiting with their notebooks in front of them (it seemed so strange to have students actually all there and waiting and on time for a lecture!). When I talk I always keep an eye on my audience and judge how well it's going by their expressions. I'm not used to Japanese facial expressions though so it was a lot more difficult that usual but I was reassured by the fact that they asked insightful, intelligent questions at the end. It was a relief! I really enjoyed it as it had been a while since I'd had the chance to talk a bit of science. Afterwards, Charlotte and I chilled out in the University library watching some ethno-musicology videos. We tried to find a UK-related one but to no avail so we watched some from the other Asian countries we were due to visit. We also visited the office of Andy Robertson who is an academic originally from Bath who now lives and works in Japan. We bombarded him with questions about his impressions of Japan and what it's like to live in as a foreigner. It was really interesting to hear his point of view and he came up with the perfect description for us: "It's like a giant Japanese theme-park - Japanland!", spot on.

That evening, Kiyoshi-san had a new experience in store for us - the famous "Onsen", Japanese hot springs. We'd both heard of them but had no idea what to expect or how to behave given all the complex Japanese social rules. The male and female baths are segregated so Charlottte had the particularly scary task of going in by herself. I was lucky and had Kiyoshi-san to follow and copy. The most surprising thing is that everyone is completely naked and carries nothing other than a small towel which is sometimes put over important parts when in the sauna but seems to serve little to no purpose. There's loads of different baths which have different minerals and different temperatures, but before your bath you went into one of the little open booths which have a shower, shampoo, soap and a wee stool for you to sit on. It was a very relaxing expeirence and very liberating not to have to worry about washing yourself underneath your swimsuit. I always hate the towel-covering type tricks you seem to be expected to do in UK changing rooms and was great to be in an environment where no-body really cares. It was particularly interesting to see children (of both sexes) as well - I would imagine in the UK that people would get very twitchy about that. I thought it was really healthy as it means that these kids will be entirely familiar with what real bodies look like - unlike the UK kids who watch porn to get that kind of eductation and get some pretty odd ideas as a result.

Dinner afterwards was a tray with loads of different bowls and plates with all sorts of things incuding tempura (battered and deep fried stuff) and sushimi (raw fish) all of which was fab. The funny bit was that to get your meal you first paid for a ticket from a vending machine which you then handed over to the staff who would bring you your meal.

We had a second day with Kiyoshi-san who originally planned to take us to make pots (at the suggestion of his daughter Mari-san). We all decided that that wasn't such a good idea as we'd never be able to carry them with us on the rest of our journey, but Andy the Bath academic had suggested that we visit Dazaifu - another place with loads of temples. It turned out to be a fab idea. One of the temples in particular had a zen garden with loads of standing stones and the gravel raked into patterns which was a great place to hange out in. We also visited the exhibition of Van Gough paintings which was resident in Dazaifu at the time. It was fascinating and the first time I'd been at an art exhibition of quite such a famous artist. Charlotte actually knew a lot about painting techniques as a result of her artist modelling career so was able to fill me in on some of the finer points. Really interesting, which neither of us had experienced in a museum or gallery before - the place was completely packed. You could hardly move, let alone see the paintings. It let for a really exciting atmosphere.

By chance, we ran into a friend of Kiyoshi-san's at the exhibition who joined us for a particularly healthy Japanese lunch and then green tea and the local sweet delecacy - a kind of rice cake with sweet red bean paste. We followed him back to the city where he was going to buy some art equipment as he's an amateur artist, so we got the chance to see all the paints and papers used for calligraphy. We stopped at the supermarket on the way back and took in some more of the crazy foods on offer before Kiyoshi-san made us a fantastic meal of sashimi and his own noodle-broth.

It was back on the Shinkansen to Horyuji (well, Oji actually) where we were to meet Yu-san and Mari-san again. But before we caught the train we were able to take in a Japanese fish market and some of the sites and sounds of Fukuoka - the big city on Kyushu.

This brings me to some of the odd things you notice in Japan as it was in Fukuoka that we were crossing the street when we heard an electronic beepy version of "Coming Thro' the Rye" somewhere in the distance. It turned out to be the noise that the pedestrian crossing makes so that blind people know when to cross - wierd. There's a load of other wierd things mind...

• The shower toilet that washes you
  
• You shower BEFORE getting in the bath
  
• Everything has a theme tune, be it trains, crossings or buses
  
• There's fish for sale EVERYWHERE
  
• The bakeries are surprisingly good
  
• Everything's so small and pretty
  
• There's vending machines everwhere which can vend you just about anything
  
• It's common to buy a ticket from a vending machine in order to get a meal or a bath
  
• Many of the signs have amusing and cute cartoons detailling what the sign says
  
• All the restaurants have plastic food outside so you know what your meal will look like
  
• There's loads of amusement arcades with a massive variety of slot machines
  
• A lot of the trains have a "ladies carriage"
  
• Loads of people wear surgeon's face masks
  
• The onsen (hot springs) place may throw you out if you have a tattoo
  
• The onsen places have relaxation rooms with big comfy sofas, TVs and video games!
  

Big in Japan?

Although it had been an airport birthday, it had actually been really relaxed, and we weren't rushed going for our plane. The flights were the highlight, probably (which helped build up the excitement of going to Japan). On the first flight they gave us a nice meal (and I've now learnt that I can ask for wine and won't have to pay for it), a good film, and ice-creams after dinner! How good is that? I've never been given ice-creams on a plane before. We had a bit of a wait in Sydney airport (until around what was midnight for us) which made me doze off, and caused me to resolve to sleep as soon as we got on the plane. But then we found an onboard entertainment system to rival BA's, and I wanted to make the most of everything that was on offer! It was a 10 hour flight, but to my frustration it was overnight. Confusingly for my stomach we were given dinner again (more wine!) and I watched bits of several films. Not much sleep, but it was all lots of fun. Breakfast was another dinner of fish and rice, but no wine this time.

For the first time, I was not nervous when arriving at our new country. This was because Tsuru had planned every detail of our journey to the last minute. And we had plenty of time to do it in. If you'll recall, we met Tsuru's husband, Dick, in Peru and then accepted a joint invitation from him and another Inca Trail comrade (Barb) to visit them in Portland, Oregon. Tsuru (Dick's Japanese wife) gave us a lot of help in working out what we would do in Japan. But then she went several steps further, and organised the whole visit for us! We would start by staying with her sister in Nara, then we would stay with her cousin in Hiroshima, then we would stay with her brother-in-law in Kyushu, before heading back to Nara and also spending some time with her mother. She even planned us a trip to a Japanese spa place. Hero!

So the only thing we were slightly nervous about was the idea of all the Japanese social rules. It's the first time we're visiting a society where we're the laid-back ones!

Upon arrival in Japan I immediately knew that this was the weirdest country I'd ever been to, and that to even get to grips with it a little bit I'd have to spend about 5 years living there. It's just so utterly different from anything I know. South and Central America were different, but they were still essentially populated by Europeans. Everywhere we've visited so far has been. I have a feeling that Asia is going to continue to be this alien. It's quite exciting. I think now I understand why people are constantly going back. I feel no real need to return to Latin America. No strong need, anyway. But having been in Asia just a few days, I know I'm going to have to come back. Several times.

We were back in winter (-1°C), but it was blue-skies and sunny. We had several trains we needed to take, according to Tsuru-san's instructions, but we had our rail passes, and the transport system is so good you really have nothing to worry about. Plus a lot of the signs in major places have English translations, and with the JR passes (a recommendation if going to Japan – you can only buy them outside the country, and give you unlimited travel on the JR lines within the given time limit. Otherwise things could get even more pricey... Also they look like a Christmas card!) you don't even need to get a ticket. You just show the pass at the gate. The guys are so polite and helpful, and will just let you through. That's another thing about Japan – the service industries are top rate, and it's also the first 'foreign' country where I haven't felt threatened for being white. The Japanese are used to the idea of travelling – so seeing a foreigner isn't that big a deal. We've also realised that it's the first developed country we've visited on this trip which hasn't been English-speaking.

We spent an amazingly tranquil day travelling from the airport in Tokyo to Horyuji in Nara. Which is strange because my image of Japan is busy busy busy. I think it was so quiet because actually, everyone was at work. Most other places tend to be busy whenever, as you've got your big share of unemployed and tourists. Looks like people in Japan actually go to work. The only people about were suits, young studenty types (amazingly dressed, especially the women. Japanese girls are so chic), and old people. One old man made us an origami thing as a present.

We were travelling on the Shinkansen – the bullet train. Your imagination will provide you the details. It's very fast. Really impressive. We got a little perplexed looking for lunch in Kyoto station. Yes, there were shops which were selling food, but it all came in such pretty boxes, we couldn't be sure if they were meant to be bought as presents or not. Could have just been the Japanese need for everything to be neat and beautiful. In the end we chickened out and found some packaged sandwiches in a shop (labelled 'delicious sandwiches', don't you know). They contained some kind of weird breaded pork (in one) and prawn stuff (in the other), some unidentifiable sauce, and coleslaw-type salad. Actually nothing like what I'd expect a packaged sandwich to be like, and actually 'delicious'. On the consumables front, we also noted a lot of vending machine selling something it called 'Pocari Sweat'. Now, I don't know what a pocari is, but I certainly don't want to drink its sweat! This is only the beginning of Japanese food and general naming weirdness. I don't even know if we'll have the energy to note it all in the blog!

Horyuji (a part of Nara) is near Kyoto and is a sort of small and very old town packed full of amazing temples. Tsuru-san's neice Mari met us at the station and took us through the streets on the most crystal clear and peaceful afternoon I ever believed we could spend in Japan. Everything was so old and traditional looking, and pretty and perfect, that I instantly fell in love with Japan.

Mari-san brought us back to her mother's house (Yu, Tsuru-san's sister) and introduced us to Japanese social rules. Most importantly – take your shoes off, goddamnit! And never wash in the bath, have a shower first! Japanese toilets/bathrooms – ah the joys. Most public places have funny squat trough things for toilets. But in the homes and nicer places they have 'shower toilets' which have lots of exciting buttons for squirting water, massage, and a heated seat. In some of the public ones they even had a flush-sound-effect button. The mind boggles. The bathroom divides into 2 – wet and dry. The wet bit also involves lots of buttons. You have a covered bath which always has water in and is maintained at a constant temperature (about 42°C). You have to sluice yourself down properly in the shower before you get in, as the water isn't changed between people. You have your bath in the evening to relax you and bring your core body temperature up – you wash, you soak, cold, hot, cold, hot. Nice. Very relaxing.

Mari-san gave us tea and cake and taught us bits and pieces about Japan. Then Yu-san came home and Mari cooked Wonderful Things. My knowledge of Japanese food was limited to sushi. There's a lot more to it! In fact, up until now my knowledge of Japan has been limited to the 13 years of Judo I did, and selected Anime films.

After dinner we sat around in the tatatmi room (mats) with this great table. You sit on cushions on the floor with your legs under this coffee table which is fringed by a big thick duvet. The underside of the table is heated – so it's very cosy in the winter. Bed involved sleeping on mats on the floor (futons – no wooden frames here) with big heavy duvets and electric bed warmers. Really comfortable.

The next morning Mari-san had cooked breakfast – I never expected to have to eat fried egg and bacon with chopsticks, or broccoli for breakfast! That morning Yu-san and Mari-san took us to visit the Horyuji temples. One of them is the oldest wooden structure in the world. I don't think I'd ever get bored of looking at Japanese shrines and temples – the architecture is gorgeous. It was another sunny, still and perfectly tranquil day, so just right for looking at temples I think.

We returned to the house for lunch and Mari-san had cooked 'Okonomoyaki', which is like a Japanese pancake or pizza. Basically a batter with lots of stuff in it, and further lots of stuff on top. After that we grabbed our big bags and headed for another shrine and temple (more actively working ones, this time). These were almost more interesting than the really ancients ones. Paul got a piece of paper with his fortune written on it from a sort of holy vending machine (they really do have vending machines for everything in this country).

The second working temple was 'Temple of the Peaceful death', although it actually meant more like 'temple of sudden death' – scary! As we arrived we found that a ceremony was just beginning. This was where we learnt about the Japanese supernatural ability to kneel. Boy is it painful! We all knelt near the front of the temple with incense burning and a giant statue of Buddha looking down on us. A monk came and knelt with his back to us, and spent a long time chanting and banging gongs and various other things. At several points we all banged large wooden fish with little drumsticks. It was a fascinating thing to take part in, but one got somewhat distracted by the pain in one's feet and knees!

After that Yu-san and Mari-san took us on the train as far as Shin-Osaka, where we would catch the train to Hiroshima (according to Tsuru-san's Master Plan) to visit Tsuru-san's cousin Naoko.

Hiroshima is an immediate contrast to Nara. It's a big city (although not giant), and while Nara is pretty old, Hiroshima has been entirely rebuilt since 1945 (that pesky A-bomb). Naoko-san met us off the train. She's an interpreter and sort of specialist tour guide, so her English is perfect. She was telling us about some interesting people who visited Hiroshima – like a British artist, Simon Starling, who had sunk a steamship near the Trident project and was now doing a mask/drama project on Hiroshima (art and cold war). And the people who are now creating virtual images of what Hiroshima looked like before the bomb. That was particularly interesting. They are collecting lots of photos and memories of people who used to know the city (while they're still alive). Some videos have been offered to the UN, and the whole project will be very important to the city.

That evening Naoko-san and her husband Kenji-san took us out for dinner and we had okonomoyaki again. But very different from Mari-san's version. Hiroshima is very proud of its distinct version of the dish which involves a huge array of vegetables, noodles, octopus, prawns, and other things. It was a feast and a half! Later we returned to her flat, had one of their crazy baths, and prepared our presentation for the next day. We were to be giving a couple of hours on Scotland and Scottish culture to some high school and university students who might be interested in studying abroad. We were really looking forward to it as we've been searching for opportunities to share our music etc with people in the places we visit.

In the morning (it was another clear crisp day) we took a walk through the Peace Park and visited the memorial to the victims of the bombing (incredibly moving) before heading to the venue. We had a group of about 10-15 girls, plus one Californian guy who was couchsurfing with one of them, and they were a genuine pleasure to present to. They were so engaged and enthusiastic – we felt it all went really well. It was so much fun – particular highlights being a Japanese version of 'Auld Lang Syne' and a mass performance of the 'Tatties and Herrin'' actions (that one's for you, Isla).

After the session we all went out for lunch in a beautiful looking restaurant where we all removed our shoes and sat on the floor (one of those!). We learnt that Josh the Californian had just moved to Korea and had been given a week's holiday which he was spending in Japan. We exchanged first impressions of East Asia. Naoko-san ordered sushimi for Paul and I – and we discovered miso soup. It's something I've always heard people rave about, but have never had any idea what it is or what's so special about it. See recipes page for details of this and other recipes in the series.

After lunch we left our enthusiastic lassies and took a taxi to our next social appointment of the day. Naoko-san had heard about a Jesuit group who gather every year to celebrate the life of a certain Father Pedro Arrupe. He was a Basque priest who ran the Catholic mission in Hiroshima and was in Hiroshima from 1942 to 1954 (at the time of the bomb) and worked tirelessly to help and heal the survivors. The people at the gathering found his life and work truly inspirational and were campaigning to have him turned into a saint.

The taxi driver, unfortunately, was not from Hiroshima and did not know the way to the church. He also refused to let us out and find a new taxi, and got us well and truly lost. There were a lot of phonecalls and pleas for directions, and we did eventually make it after a rather comical journey. We missed mass, but were just in time for the coffee and cakes!

I have to admit it was a little intimidating to start with. Naoko-san was also a visitor there and I felt a little strange turning up at this event with no idea what was going on or what it was about. The people there looked a little puzzled too, but Naoko-san explained our presence, and explained about Father Arrupe to us, and everyone was very welcoming. They gave several speeches about Father Arrupe, and the visitors were asked to introduce themselves (again, a bit intimidating, but Naoko-san was a first-rate interpreter). One of the other visitors was a man (a chemistry teacher, as it happened) who had taken it upon himself to translate a whole book about Father Arrupe into Japanese. An impressive feat! Another priest present (a Spaniard) had also created a Manga edition of the story of F.A.'s life. They were very keen that people shouldn't forget him, and that kids should learn about him too. Soon the generation that remembered him would die off, and it was important that their recollections be preserved. Meetings like the society's annual one wouldn't last as their numbers died off. It was amazing to see people so passionate. It was a fascinating event to attend, and to meet all of these people. So different from anything I'd expected to encounter in Japan.

Afterwards Naoko-san thought it would be nice for Paul and I to look around the chapel. We waited for someone to ask, and met Mr. Toi, whose first words to us were, 'You are most welcome to Japan!' An auspicious beginning! He showed us the chapel, which was an interesting mixture of Christian and Japanese – sliding paper doors, tatami, scrolls. He took great pride in explaining the different parts to us.

As we began walking back into town to find our train, he and his wife passed us in their car and offered us a lift to the station. On the way, we stopped at his old primary school and told us a bit about it. It was very significant in the history of the bombing (in fact we think he'd lost a friend there), and had been used as a refuge. There had also been one tree there which had remained standing after the bomb, and was still growing in the playground. A miracle tree really.

We peered through the gates, and then Mr. Toi decided that he would show us around. We went round the front and came across some kids practising baseball and some mothers. The little boys were very friendly – and people were interested to hear Mr. Toi had been a student there (he's also a chemistry teacher – they're everywhere apparently!). Then the boys took us round the playground and showed us the tree and a memorial. It was all so surreal, because most things were happening in Japanese and we were just following where we were led. But it was cool to come across this random baseball team with their enthusiasm and Mr. Toi's stories!

He ended up taking us all the way to Naoko-san's flat. He was such a lovely man – just another of these exceptionally kind strangers we keep encountering! Getting out of the car we bobbed up and down bowing for longer than I thought possible!

Next in our epic day was shopping for dinner – our first taste of Japanese shops. Hopefully we'll have more as they're so exciting! I never get bored of weird Japanese things. It had been a very long day, so it was nice to relax in the bath before dinner!

We'd scraped the surface of Hiroshima and the atomic bomb atrocity. Next was the real heart-breaker: 'the museum that ruins your day'.