Where's the romance, where's the toilet, where's the hotel and where are we going for dinner?

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As jet lag set in and the day wore on, seeing the mid afternoon NZ vs Japan rugby match in Tokyo was the main time waster (I.e walkover match) of day one. No bars open, no cafes or hotel restaurant coverage, so tuning into TV4 on digital at the Hilton and between the ooohs and aaahs of the commentator we figured that NZ was winning.







Keen to validate our JR passes that evening to make a speedy exit the next morning, we planned a trip to the Narita airport JR station en route to dinner. Arriving at the JR office short of 2 passports did not get us off to a great start, and so some to’ing and fro’ing and a little cursing later, we validated them and headed to the outpost of Chiba ken. A long 30 minutes by train away, 3 of us ate in a smoky restaurant next to a coughing Japanese man for a princely 3200 yen. I had introduced the parents to the “real Japan” and more was to come.







So hitting Japan on a national festival day was an experience to behold. Sleeping in got the parents off to a bad start again, but time was made up quickly and we were on the 9:19am train before you could say “ohayoo!” Weak coffee needed a substitute at Shinagawa, our changeover station, and as if in a dream, a delicious large soy cappuccino appeared along with European style biscuits and atmosphere. In Japan!







Arriving at Odawara, I ran around planning and reserving tickets and translating to expedite our Mt Fuji experience. Before long, we had arrived at Hakone Yumoto town, in the middle of heavy crowds and anticipated road closures.



Everyone was here, and desperate ones swarmed around the 'Romance Car' ticket window, keen no doubt to consummate their romance. We 3 took refuge at the adjacent tourist information centre, and with determined help of the volunteer and some mixed messaged, we ascertained that a taxi was possible and, albeit slow, we got to our accommodation high on the hillside.







The weather halfway between misty and sunny, we queued and begged for the return taxi from the hotel (road closures really limited options and Dad was damned if he was to walk to save time…I had to agree) and entry to the first part of the Hakone Yumoto transport fiesta to Ashinoko.







Lake Ashi is one of the many features in this area, popular with everyone young and old, local and foreign. Through a sequence of 6 sectors (via cable cars, train, ropeways, boat ride, and bus) and queuing from 30 to 60 minutes per sector amongst no fewer than approximately 800 people at the highest point, we arrived at Lake Ashi in the nick of time for the final departure at 5pm.







Ecstatic at 4:59pm, and buoyant from a lovely interaction with a Chinese family, we sailed into the setting sun aboard the Pirates of Penzance lookalike vessel. A cramped bus later and we were back at base weary and hungry, waiting patiently for our taxi, along uncrowded streets, to Nanpuso.







The Nanpuso hotel had greeted us before said adventure with cheer and limited English, shepherding us to an annexe up 5 flights and down 3 flights and then up another 3 to our traditional room. Rates in these places include a traditional dinner of tofu, boiled pork, egg things and coloured flour and water masquerading as some Japanese thing, fishy thing and poached thing. So that sorted the semi democratic dinner decision making.....it was made for us.







Toilet operations made up a large part of our humour at Hotel Nanpuso. Like driving a car, the lights and buttons felt like being in an amusement arcade of 1 metre square and had it not been for the helpful desk folk, we could be sprinkling water up into the air like a fountain all night long. We slept to a raging river sound, heavy with recent typhoon-standard rains of 2 weeks before.







The next day, cloudy and muggy, started slowly and unfortunately for us, being early was not to our benefit. Taking the 12:05 not 12:08 Shinkansen from the JR line at Odawara caused our unexpected diversion to Shizuoka. Some frustrated chatter and much help from random by-standing Japanese and we finally got to Kyoto, an hour later than planned. The Pauline-pace had inadvertently entered into this trip and it was not good.







Kiyomizu dera, a temple, one of the feature spots in Kyoto was heaving with school uniforms, geisha dressed girls and few English speaking tourists in the district near to the famous Gion. Being unable to stash all the luggage, due to the intense crowds visiting this spot and occupied large coin lockers, we rolled one case up hill and eventually down dale, with the fading day light casting a beautiful mood over this famous place. After a crowded bus ride where we were pushed on by yet another uniformed old man with white gloves, and a taxi to the Eizan electric train station later, and we arrived in Kurama Onsen dead on 7pm.







This is an idyllic spot in the volcanic area behind Kyoto. Ushered to our tatami room, we were instantly served the green tea, bowed numerous times to, and delicious if salty Japanese food shoved directly in front of us without a chance to say “ohisashiburidesunee” (“It’s been a while…”). The beer was costly but worth the rush to be in this tranquil location.







Dessert and another feast over with, it was communal nude bathing time. “What do I say to the Japanese men?”, pop asks. “Anything you like” we answer. If all else fails, try konnichi wa. “Can I wear togs” he asks me, for about the 20^th time….again in my tired state I translated….”No!” from our waitress who had answered that one. When in Rome…..







To Dad’s delight, he discovered an English speaker (as we could hear through the adjoining walls) and as we removed our robes, our dignity and sidled over to the squatting shower area with a face cloth sized rag for a scrub up, he was already in full chatter flight. And they say women can talk!







Soaking with Mum and only one other lady, staring up at hazy starry skies, relishing the 38 to 40C water, this was a relaxing experience, although not nearly as amazing as Jordanian desert skies. We bathed, we repacked, and we slept on lumps of concrete in a fabric bag they call a pillow.







Necks and knees feeling worse for wear, morning came and I trundled off for a jog and a soak before breakfast, this time completely alone........... and fortunately so too was the men's as I accidentally turned right into the bath area 1 metre early! Wooded planned cedar forests and a narrow mountain road weaved down to the station, and after another veritable breakfast feast, we trundled off to Kinkaku-ji temple, agreeing to by time-saving taxi. Bowing as we exited, we avoided butting heads, parted with about 200NZD pp, and our gloved taxi man delivered us there in record time.







Said temple later, a visual treat and world heritage site, our taxi man got lost. “I need no GPS” he replied when I said he had crossed the same bridge for the fourth time and he needed one. Navigation was not his strength.







Jolly in Japanese, he clutched the steering wheel tightly, his bespectacled face staring forwards with fervor, stroking the right side of the wheel periodically as if manually accessing his brain for directions. Growing concern in the rear from the parents and some dialogue with me, he fixed our price at 3000 yen and 15 minutes later than planned we returned to Kurama onsen, collected our luggage, and were off again bound for Hiroshima.







Fresh with local advice, from more new train friends, about sampling the famous noodles in Kyoto and oysters in Hiroshima, we were sure to be well fortified for the final legs of our trip…..







……and for that matter, well slept on a ration of one oyster each that night. A decent arrival time into Hiroshima meant we rolled into the Hotel Righa by simple streetcar at 4:30pm after a rapid 2 hour trip from Kyoto central station. Again, doing the tag team luggage watch, toilet stops, ticket reservations and collection (‘tour leader’ role!) and trying to do the planning democratically, we managed to see the Peace dome, get some nice dusk shots, and greet yet more genuine Japanese folk.







At the atomic bomb ruin, I was randomly bestowed with 2 lovely photos of the Obon festival (a commemoration of the dead) from a gent who gave them away in what could be only described as a pay-it-forward moment. So many of these moments have happened to us in Japan, so we’re due to return the favour soon.



Eventually agreeing on a plan for the next day to set off just before 9am, we took in the castle, Hiroshima-joo and gardens. Full of adornments from the Edo period 400 years before, photos of the pre and post bombed Hiroshima, English depictions of the village lifestyle and a fantastic view from the top story, it whiled some time before a brief wander over to the Peace park and museum.



Accidentally split in the act of getting coffees, I ended up back at the hotel early for a parental rendezvous, with extra soya cappuccinos in hand in hope of gaining brownie points with father. We retrieved the towel we had almost collectively thrown in, and took a taxi to the station, with half an hour spare. Morale was restored with lunch, a phone call to Chihiro for the next days plan, and attempted democratic decision making to do less not more the next day.







So via Osaka to Tokyo we went, through numerous tunnels, and without noisy mobile phones or chatter to disturb us. The etiquette is pro-quietness on trains, and it is nice actually to feel like no one bats an eyelid for any extraneous behaviour. Even a spontaneous zumba dance by the river in Hiroshima, and awaiting the long pedestrian lights to change could not raise a ‘Sarariimans’ eyebrows..…maybe never before and never to be seen there again….. such that there must be a bit of every Japanese that is dying to break out of the samurai shell and go a bit nuts!







Ending with a mediocre Hilton hotel dinner (how a high class hotel can charge $25NZD for straggly lettuce and tomato and sliced chicken with human hair for taste, and masquerading as ‘Mediterranean’ I cannot understand) and diving into bed with the fatigue of 3 sleep deprived Newton’s, we can hopefully face a hectic Chihiro schedule tomorrow and overnight flight home.







So the end is near…it's been great...thanks for reading if you got this far congratulations on patience!







9 days adventure



In Jordan and Middle East



Camped and canyoned and hiked



Ate several tomato and hummus feasts







Off to Dubai I went in search



Of gold and learning stuff



A week at a 5 star hotel



I did not sleep that rough







Nippon was next, and behold!



I’m a translator and tour guide



Up and down Honshuu by rail



Platform food and pocari sweat tried







And soon to see old penpal Chihiro



The pace it will crank up



Before long will be back in NZ



Dirty washing, back working, and dead keen for a SUP







Next spot I’ll visit?…who knows



This is where the poem ends



Reminisce on this trip in months to come



And catch up soon with good friends!

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Photos

Hajemashite, welcome to your Japan experience
Kirin beer and edamame beans

Sales pitch .... The Romance Car
Ride the train, get romantic, get lucky...must say the earth only moved because of a 2.9 magnitude quake in Ibaraki ken!

Kiyomizu dera, Kyoto, on a massive public holiday
not as tranquil as intended but lovely nonetheless

Kinkaku ji temple
1000 years old at most, and laced with gold lacquer