Can July 1 be here again so soon? Doesn’t seem like a year since we were raising a glass to the True North Strong and Free in Australia.
In tribute, here’s a link to one of my favourite songs about Canada – The Longest Road – from the underappreciated songwriter/guitarist Stephen Fearing. And just so our francophone frères et sœurs don’t feel left out, a lovely version of Un Canadian Errant.
We enlist some hotel staff for a photo opp.
So until we are once more in nestled in the bosom of the Canadian motherland, we wish everyone at home a great Canada Day/Bonne Fête du Canada.
Now, where were we? Oh yeah; from Paro, we drive to the capital city of Thimphu.
The Tamchog Chakzam (iron chain bridge). According to legend, ‘Drupthob Thangtong Gyalpo was the Tibetan man who built the iron chain bridges in Bhutan in the late 1300s, and is said to have built 108 of these bridges around Tibet and Bhutan.’
We stop for some fruit along the way. Wrapped in plastic are cubes of local cheese.
Thimphu is sometimes describes as ‘the only capital city in the world without traffic lights.’ Not quite; we know for a fact that Antananarivo, the capital of Madagascar, has no traffic lights. (Actually, they have hundreds left over from the days of French rule. They just haven’t worked in decades.)
This is the Memorial Stupa, built to commemorate the third King of Bhutan.
Our guide, Tula, points out an interesting phenomenon. Some people who work in town leave their elderly relatives at the stupa grounds as a sort of ‘daycare for seniors’.
The photo below shows a killer fungus used as medicine in these parts. According to wikipedia:
‘O. sinensis parasitizes the larvae of moths within the family Hepialidae, specifically genera found on the Tibetan Plateau and in the Himalayas, between elevations of 3000 m and 5000 m. The fungus germinates in the living larva, kills and mummifies it, and then a dark brown stalk-like fruiting body which is a few centimeters long emerges from the corpse and stands upright.’
This is taken in a post office. Someone’s going to get a special treat in the mail.
Sight or Insight of the Day
We visit a fair-trade shop that sells Bhutanese textiles and other things at a fixed price.
We are met at the airport by our guide, Tula, and our driver, Rinzin.
(In an effort to avoid overwhelming numbers of visitors, Bhutan practices ‘high-value, low-impact’ tourism. This means most foreign visitors must travel with a booked package, at a substantial daily rate, including a guide and a driver.)
Paro isn’t the biggest town in Bhutan, but it is where the international airport is located.
On our way to the hotel, we pass groups of young monks.
Our hotel is a training ground for a local hospitality college.
The view from our hotel.
Our first stop is the Rinpung Dzong. A dzong is a fortress/temple.
It’s an ‘auspicious day’, so the monastery has many visitors. These local girls and women wear the kira, the national garment for women.
This lone girl dances to her own inner rhythm.
Up the hill is a national museum, currently under repair for earthquake damage.
The grouping of white prayer flags are a memorial for a deceased person.
According to Tula, they should be ‘high up and overlooking a river.’
We hike up into the surrounding hills.
We drop in on a small monastery. Tula discreetly checks if anyone is home. The resident monk is in town, running errands.
We visit Kyichu Lhakhang, one of the oldest monasteries in the country.
Tula works the prayer wheels. He wears the kilt-like national garment for men, the goh.
In the courtyard of Kyichu Lhakhang. We are not used to having a third person to take our photo together.
From Tokyo to New Delhi, via Bangkok. Not surprisingly, we find ourselves in a different world.
Because of India’s location on the planet, flights often arrive and depart in the middle of the night, including ours.
We book one night in a hotel near the airport and arrange for a pickup from the airport.
Because our luggage takes an hour and a half to reach the baggage carousel, our scheduled driver is gone.
We are forced to take a ‘metered’ cab. The driver has no idea where our hotel is.
We finally find it. The driver charges us over twice the official fare.
Because we are exhausted, (and because we’re grateful not to be simply dumped off in the middle of nowhere on the outskirts of Delhi), we pay up.
However, none of this is totally unexpected. Next day, we make our way to our ‘real’ hotel. We have a balcony that looks out onto the great street carnival of Delhi life.
They have a bird hospital. We are interested in visiting – our favourite charity in Ottawa is the Wild Bird Care Centre – but visiting hours are over. Next time we’re in town, perhaps.
We struggle through the Brueghelian chaos of Chandni Chowk to get to the Red Fort.
Not far from our neighbourhood is Connaught Place, with its faded colonial glory.
It’s 45 degrees Celsius. Everyone – including us – is trying to conserve their energy.
Another day we visit the neighbourhood of Hauz Khas. Among other sights are these 15-16th century mausoleums, the Dadi – Poti (‘grandmother-granddaughter’ ) tombs. We wander around and soak up the antiquity.
Sight or Insight of the day
As we mentioned, it is 45 degrees Celsius in Delhi. A local temple hands out free cups of liquid refreshment.
Apparently in Canada, we want to ban single-use plastics. That’s not really an issue in India yet.
We are in Kobe: we have to splash out on a dinner of Kobe beef at Tor Road Steak Aoyama.
Interesting historical fact: until 1872, eating meat was banned in Japan for over 1,200 years.
We are in Osaka, our original point of entry, for the third time. And for the third time we stay at the Tani9 Backpackers.
It seems so long ago that we first arrived in Japan, slightly overwhelmed by the hectic pace and unfamiliar culture after laid-back New Zealand. The atmosphere at the Tani9 is so relaxed and friendly, we ended up spending five days here as we acclimatize. It’s good to be back.
And we get to see Akubi again.
We take a day trip to Nara, once the capital of Japan. The temples are known for their tame deer.
They have been for centuries.
Other views.
We catch a train to Kyoto. While there, we visit the Tale of Genji Museum in nearby Uji.
The Tale of Genji is a strange thing. Over 1,200 pages long, it’s a ‘novel of manners’ written in the 11th century by a woman, Murasaki Shikibu.
Like many great works, you get the feeling it might contain entire worlds between its covers. Don’t know if I’ll ever get to read it, though; my dwindling stock of days in this world probably preclude starting 1,000-plus-paged novels. (No terminal illnesses – simply age.) Too bad there’s not a Classics Illustrated version.
The last ten chapters (out of 54) take place in Uji. Hence the location of the museum. The building is attractive – sleek and modern.
Wandering in Uji, there is a street fair going on. I sample some of the best grilled tuna I’ve ever tasted.
In Kyoto itself, we come across a crew demolishing an old Kyoto-style wooden building. Sad.
But of course many parts of Kyoto retain their charm.
In Kyoto, seeing groups of women – or couples – dressed in full geisha gear is common. Seeing a group of teenage boys much less so.
Then back to Tokyo for six days. One of our first stops is the Hokusai Museum.
Katsushika Hokusai reminds us of Rembrandt Van Rijn. Both artists spent most of their lives in the same neighbourhood, probably never traveling further than 100 KMs from home, but creating an entire cosmos in their work.
The Great Wave Off Kanagawa – the original:
Which inspires many variations, such as this Van Gogh-style effort:
For those who like rabbits…
…or for those who like pugs (you know who you are!):
A late painting by Hokusai for a shrine, now restored (recreated, really) after being destroyed in the Great Kanto Earthquake.
Set into the plaza in front of the museum:
We like this noren-shaped building in the Sumida district .
We are really going to miss Japan. Even if communication is often a problem, Japan has a lot going for it.
Like the Scandinavian countries, Japan has worked out a way of life that is uniquely suited to itself, for the betterment of its people. Like Scandinavia, Japan has figured out the basics:
Make sure stuff works properly
Keep things clean
Be courteous to your fellow citizens
Don’t vandalize public property
Educate your people and keep them healthy
(Having a sense of shame for doing bad things doesn’t hurt either)
When I was younger and in my traveling prime, I wasn’t tempted to visit Japan because I thought of Japanese society as ‘rigid’ and ‘conformist’.
These days, I tend to see people often interpret their right to be ‘non-conformist’ as privilege to be as big an asshole as possible.
People have been good to us here. We won’t say ‘sayonara‘ – that’s not a thing anymore – but ‘Jā matane‘, or ‘See you later’.
From the sub-Arctic ambiance of Hokkaido we fly to the sultry tropical atmosphere of Okinawa.
Okinawa has an interesting history. In a nutshell:
The Ryukyu Kingdom, a separate entity, enjoys independence as a prosperous intermediary in trade between China and Japan.
Japan annexes it in the 1870s.
The Battle of Okinawa rages on the island in 1945 as a stepping stone for the invasion of the mainland. The Japanese army essentially uses the entire civilian population as human shields, shooting those who use Okinawan dialect as spies and urging group suicides.
The US administers Okinawa directly until 1972. Okinawa reverts to Japan.
Okinawans become increasingly disenchanted with having a significant area of the country occupied by American bases. Besides the risk of so much military activity in heavily-urbanized zones, crimes committed by US personnel are a problem.
We rent a car. His name is Suzuki, after David, and, well, because he’s a Suzuki.
After picking up our car at the airport, we get lost in a labyrinth of ridiculously narrow alleyways in between broad but unidentifiable major streets in Naha, the main town. Turns out that southern Okinawa is one continuous conglomeration of citified confusion.
We eventually find our minshuku, which is like a Japanese B & B.
On the road, we visit a Ryoko-era fort at Nagasuku. There are at least 30 of these around Okinawa.
The stonework in these is amazing.
We have the entire site to ourselves – probably because of the rain.
Okinawa is very urban, especially the southern part. We expect more of a tranquil, unpopulated idyll like Sado and Hokkaido. This is not the case.
We’re going to cheat here and offer web-search photos of the urbanized south. And the more scenic north.
After a few days, Suzuki gets a flat tire and has to be towed back to Naha. There is no spare tire – only a ‘puncture repair kit’ that has no instructions in English.
This is one of those travel tales in which strange things happen. While parked up with the flat, a man in a snazzy Mercedes Benz actually scrapes our bumper and we have to get the police involved. Long story. But it ends well.
We pick up a new vehicle to replace Suzuki. We name him Satoshi, after Satoshi Nakamoto.
This vehicle has mind-blowing gas mileage. We are half way around the island before the fuel gauge even begins to go down.
These guardian spirits on rooftops are an Okinawa tradition. If they weren’t so heavy, we’d send one or two home.
We reach Cape Hedo, the northernmost point of Okinawa. (This seems to be a recent theme, going to the ‘northernmost point’ of places.)
At Cape Hedo, the water is unbelievably clear. We see groups of large blue fish swimming near the shore, which don’t really show up in this photo.
Among the wildlife on the island are wild boar.
Back in Naha. Naha has an extensive monorail system.
Maria risks losing a limb to take this photo.
We get a seat right up front.
There is a well-known aquarium here that features two live whale sharks. This is reflected in a sculpture created from potted flowers in front of the Okinawa Prefectual Museum.
As well as the whale shark motif on this JAL aircraft we see at Naha Airport as we leave for the mainland.
Sight or Insight of the Day – Okinawa
People who know us know that we like rabbits. There is a brand of car in Japan called a ‘Lapin‘.
The front badge sports bunny ears.
As does the dot over the ‘I’ in the rear badge.
If we could, we’d load one into a container and send it back to Canada.
This is the oldest brand of beer in Japan. They also own Sleeman Breweries in Canada, we learn.
At the brewery, we have a grilled lamb dish known as a ‘Ghengis Khan’ (transliterated into Japanese as ‘Jingisukan’, a Hokkaido specialty.
We rent another car and set out.
Hokkaido is a beautiful place to drive around. Excellent roads and little traffic.
Our first stop is Furano. A big skiing spot in the winter, it’s also known for its agriculture. We have a wine and cheese party with local, um, wine and cheese.
Below, You can see a fumarole puffing out from the mountain just to the right of centre.
Our car is claret-coloured and grape-shaped. We name him Merlot.
Once again, we would not have been able to rent a car without my sister’s help in sending us International Drivers Permits.
One of Lake Akan’s claims to fame are these marimo, or round balls of algae.
Wikipedia says the marimo population is declining. Probably because the tourist shops are full of jars of marimo for sale as souvenirs.
Lots of wildlife in Hokkaido. We see deer on the road. And foxes.
We see this one in the middle of the road. When we stop, not only does he not run away, he casually trots back to our car to have a closer look.
While driving on the Shiretoko Peninsula early in the morning, we see a mamma bear and two cubs crossing the road. We only catch a fleeting glimpse through the mist, but we are impressed.
The bears here in Hokkaido are huge, unlike the ones on Honshu. They’re related to grizzlies. I’ve lived in Canada most of my life and I’ve never seen a wild bear. Strange that the first country I see one in is Japan.
The Shiretoko Peninsula is has a very remote feel.
At the top of the Shiretoko Pass, you can see the Russian island of Kunashir in the Sea of Okhotsk. (In fact, the Russians stole this island and others at the end of WWII. Long story.)
While driving we run into a severe dust storm.
From time to time, we stop in Japanese roadhouses called Michi-no-Eki. This one is shaped like a cargo ship.
It has interesting local products for sale.
We reach Wakkanai, the northernmost point of Japan.
There is an irregular ferry from here to nearby Sakhalin Island in Russia. (Sakhalin Island became known to the world when the Soviets shot down a Korean Airlines 747.)
Throughout the north of Hokkaido you see abandoned homesteads. We remember seeing similar sights in Iceland.
We guess that some environments are just too severe to live in. Especially in winter.
We carry on down the west coast of Hokkaido.
We come to Otaru, a former major trading town. A canal runs through the centre.
There are warehouses left over from the glory days.
We make our way overland, passing Mount Yotei, the ‘Mount Fuji of the North’.
Just north of Noboribetsu is Jigokudani, or ‘Hell Valley’. At the entrance is a giant demon. Apparently, they are the legendary inhabitants in Hell Valley – good demons who protect the numerous hot springs.
Volcanic activity in the area provides colourful sulfur pools…
…with that distinctive rotten-egg smell.
We do a few short hikes.
We soothe our feet in a natural hot mineral stream.
So do other hikers.
Summer arrives in Hokkaido at last.
Sight or Insight of the Day – Hokkaido Road Trip
All over Hokkaido, we notice these arrow signs over the road every 100 meters or so.
This because it snows a LOT in Hokkaido in winter, and sometimes the snow makes it difficult to figure out where the edge of the road is.
A brief entry to update our railpass travels. From Yokohama, we cross to the other side of Honshu and catch a hydrofoil to the island of Sado from Niigata.
We arrive in the port of Ryotsu.
We rent a car on arrival. Japan is the only place we’ve been to so far that demands an International Driving Permit to rent a car.
The ones we left home with expire after one year. It’s impossible to rent a car in Japan without one.
My sister goes to great lengths to acquire a pair of IDPs for us when we send her the necessary documents. (They are available only in your country of origin.) Then she deals with the trouble and expense of sending them to us.
Thanks a million, Sis! You’re the best!
Sado is a charming place to spend a few days. It used to be a place of banishment for unwanted people from the mainland, including at least one emperor.
It’s quiet and sparsely populated.
We (almost) circumnavigate the island. Besides the usual excellent roads, there are barely-room-for-a-single-vehicle stretches as well.
It’s full of quaint wooden houses and narrow alleyways.
We see some wildlife on the island. This Japanese Striped Snake crosses the road as we pass.
We also see some ferret-like animal scuttling under a bush.
This is a full-size reproduction of an old merchant ship, painstakingly recreated by local shipwrights.
The Japanese eat a lot of seaweed. We even buy a bag of seaweed potato chips once. (By mistake.)
Japan, needless to say, is a sushi-lover’s paradise. Great for Maria; for me, not so much. I prefer my fish thickly battered and deep fried.
Near Aikawa are the remains of a gold mine that operated for centuries and closed down in 1989.
We use the waning days of our railpass to travel first to Sendai, then for one last long train journey to Sapporo on the northern island of Hokkaido.
Sapporo was the site of the 1972 Winter Olympics. Here’s a view of the city from the top of the ski jump.
Sight or Insight of the Day – Sado-ga-shima
We notice many elderly women in Japan are in a permanently-stooped-over state. Our theory is that this is a result from a lifetime spent working in the garden, which many women do while bent nearly double.
We learn that ‘Kanagawa’ is here – an earlier name for what is today Yokohama. Mount Fuji is now hidden by skyscrapers.
This is also where Commodore Perry landed in 1854 and demanded the opening up of Japan after centuries of self-seclusion.
Which leads to Yokohama becoming a thriving trade port. We visit the Yokohama Silk Museum. It features dozens of dazzling kimonos, each one a work of art.
Yokohama has also been in the forefront of Japanese emigration, limited as it is. There’s an informative museum about this near the waterfront.
(A noteworthy observation: Japan is the only country we’ve been to in Asia that doesn’t have significant numbers of educated people who want to move to – or at least have a bolthole in – somewhere else. Such as Australia/New Zealand or Canada/USA.)
Most Japanese emigration took place early in the last century. This ship, the permanently-docked NYKHikawa Maru, has an interesting history.
In service between 1930 and 1960, she ferried people to Seattle in the thirties, served as a hospital ship in WWII, was used to repatriate Japanese soldiers after the war, and returned to trans-Pacific passenger duty.
Also related to the sea – a Japan Coast Guard Museum. Its most riveting exhibit is a captured North Korean spy vessel.
This ship, disguised as a fishing boat, was sunk in a hostile encounter in 2001 and salvaged later.
More about dogs in Japan. People with small dogs often push them around in a pram. We thought these were re-purposed baby prams, but nope; they’re marketed and sold as doggy prams.
We must mention the neighbourhood we’re staying in here. It’s kind of like a Japanese Skid Row. It just turns out to be where our accommodation is located, but it’s definitely a ‘quartier défavorisé‘. Lots of impoverished, older single men around. And social services. But safe (this is Japan, after all.)
Interesting to see the Japanese response to the less fortunate. This neighbourhood has many multi-storey buildings with very small rooms and communal bathrooms and kitchens. Laundromats (which also have showers in them) are plentiful. So people have a roof over their heads, a way to keep themselves and their clothes clean, and some dignity-preserving privacy.
After a brief overnight in Osaka again, we head for Takayama, in a region of Central-north Honshu (Japan’s main island).
The view from the (non-shinkansen) train is more rural than usual.
It’s in the mountains. They don’t call these the Japanese Alps for nothing.
Takayama has streets full of old wooden buildings.
I sample a local specialty – grilled soy-sauce-soaked rice balls on a skewer.
Some kind of festival is going on in the streets.
Little girls also get into the act.
The cherry trees are still in blossom in this cool climate.
Many people have small dogs here. We stop to pet the friendly ones. The owners always say ‘Thank you’, as if we do them a great favour by honouring their choice in canine companions.
We see this sign when the laundry facilities are not working one day.
The figure in the sign is bowing. The Japanese bow a lot.
For example, on trains, when the conductor reaches the end of a car, he turns and bows to the people in the car. Then he moves into the next car and repeats.
A bow is a sign of respect, not servility. That people take their jobs seriously, no matter how humble, is a refreshing change from elsewhere in the world, where people’s attention can’t be pried from their cell phones with a crowbar.