The Quest for the Golden Hatchet

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I was rudely awakened by an early alarm clock at 6.30am - far too early an alarm for a holiday don't you think? However, I could also hear what I hoped were fresh coffee beans being ground so with my hopes high, we went for breakfast.

Not only did we get fresh coffee but also 6 kinds of homemade jam, some from native wild fruit. Of course, Mr Matsuo and I, then got into an in depth chat about 'stuff what I have grown and made into jam' which I guess delayed breakfast a little but certainly not to it's detriment. It appears I need to move on from jam and into liqueurs.

We also got into an international conversation which I shall entitle 'I remember when this was all fields' which we could understand even in Japanese.

Alongside toast and jam, there was also a hearty portion of scrambled eggs and bacon and the obligatory salad. Picking up lettuce with chopsticks is not the easiest thing in the world but kiwi fruit blows it out the water. I mean really, just how slippery does a fruit need to be. We did, however, valiantly stick at it until we spotted the guy opposite spiking his with the pointy end of his stick - he said it was the obvious thing to do. Well, no kidding Einstein!

As the wind was still blowing a hooley (not sure if that's a real word but my mother always uses it so blame her) outside, we headed out wearing every bit of our cold weather gear and double socks just in case. Looking as I did, like the Pillsbury Dough Girl, my attire seemed somewhat amusing to 'the gang'. I don't see why, I mean I was only wearing thermal long johns, trackie bottoms and ski trousers, topped by a T-shirt, long-sleeved thermal, thick fleece, wind-proof coat, fleece snood, ski gloves and a fleece hat with furry ear flaps for goodness sake!

We soon found out the full extent of the wind chill factor when we reached the Nemuro peninsula - looking for cormorants of course. The car park was coated in thick ice and after taking a few tentative steps leaning into the wind, at right angles to the ground, I called it quits before the inevitable ankle crunching fall occurred. The inside of the car had a positively tropical climate in comparison and there was always my blog to write - now you know why they are so long! Our intrepid explorer stuck it out for another half hour until even he scurried back (carefully) to the comforts of the car's heating system. The cormorants were elusive - due mostly to the fact that it was physically impossible in the wind, to hold your binoculars still enough to see the damn things.

My icicle fixation continued as it seems Hokkaido has it's own brand. Okay, they're not bright pink and neither do they emit 'god save the queen' when you walk past but they are...diagonal, which tells you just how windy it is here. Not quite as exciting I grant you, but still pretty darn cool and much less likely to spike you when they drop off.

Most of the roads have LED signs giving the current temperature etc. One appeared to have a red crab with yellow legs sliding down a hillside. As Hokkaido is famous for it's snow crabs, I figured it must be something to do with that, although quite what the significance of a sledging crab was, I didn't know. Turned out to be an avalanche warning sign - how was I meant to know?

The petrol stations are one of the many wonders of Japan. If only we had such enthusiastic and polite service in the UK. In addition to filling up your car with fuel, they also clean/de-ice all the windows and make you feel like a minor dignitary with the door opening/closing and, of course, all the bowing, thrown in for free. They actually stand (in the freezing cold remember) and wait for you to drive off just so they can bow you on your way - unless it was just us but I doubt it somehow.

Eventually the wind did drop a little away from the tip of the peninsula, and we were treated to our first view of the real bird we'd gone to see. Souring on the vicious updrafts with ease was an adult Stella's Sea Eagle sporting his magnificent matching set of beak and claws. Both a vibrant yellow, they all but glowed against the black and white underside of his wings and the occasional vivid blue of the sky. And boy, if you thought the beak of the big-billed crows was impressive, you ain't seen nothing till you've seen this mighty golden hatchet!

Talking of crows, have any of you seen the wildlife footage of the crows that drop nuts on traffic crossings so that once they get smashed by car tyres, they can pick the pieces up at leisure when the lights turn red? Well, we've seen them - granted they hadn’t yet gravitated to using the crossing but cars were definitely being effectively used as giant nutcrackers.

Lunch was partaken at our new preferred venue, Seicomart, and we decided to opt for some items from the bakery section. I gathered the provisions on a savoury/sweet ratio of 2:1 which I have now learnt is the wrong way round to satisfy Mr Fiennes' sugar craving. My favourite phrase of the day was uttered by the man himself accompanied by a worried facial expression - "it's not cheese". This was in response to a bread roll I'd given him that appeared to have a cheese topping - what can I say, it looked like cheese, smelled vaguely of cheese, but weirdly tasted of mustard. He wasn't impressed and chose his own rolls in future.

Mr Matsuo had tipped us off on where to see Asian Rosy Finch so we made our way to the 'house with green roof'. Low and behold, there was a large flock of said birds flitting about in the garden behind the house. The only way to get a good view and a possible photo was from their driveway. Unperturbed by trespassing laws whilst in the pursuit of a new tick, Mr Fiennes parked in the drive and left me on look-out. I hoped that the owner was a birder himself or at least understood the strange birding compulsion and would be sympathetic if he caught two Brits with binoculars in his back garden. I did however, make sure the Japanese words for 'sorry' were very clear in my mind while I sat staring at his back door instead of the small feathery things we'd come to see.

Either we weren't spotted or they didn't mind, but I am happy to report that I did not have to resort to my bad pronunciation and copious bowing. It turned out the owner was a rival birding guesthouse who attempted to keep the birds a secret so that you had to stay the night to see them - doh!

Whilst in Hokkaido, I learnt not to be surprised by small, snow-covered mounds. Do not assume that the pristine snow, always hides a mere hummock. Here it could equally be hiding a family car or even, in theory, a hibernating bear as they do abound in the area - you can even buy bells to alert unsuspecting ones of your presence as you tramp through the woods. Luckily, although we came across plenty of snow cars, we didn't find ourselves climbing over any sleepy bears. That we know of at least.

I think Hokkaido is expecting a military attack, or at least playing weekend soldiers. Each town is fortified to the nines with snow barricades. Copious daily shovelling has produced enormous walls that line the streets and some even appear to have crenulations. I'm not saying they could keep out weapons of mass destruction but if a very short army wearing only Bermuda shorts and flip flops turned up, Hokkaido would hold it forever.

We returned to the lodge that evening for the long awaited and much anticipated home cooked dinner. All the bird trip reports comment on how authentic the food is and this I can now confirm. I would describe it as 'an event' - a fantastic one for me, but not quite so great for Mark however.

The meal started with an endless stream of bowls - we must have had 8 dishes each and don't forget the tot of homemade liqueur to sup when the chopsticks get too much. Spread out before us was a veritable medieval feast with a distinct marine bent. We each had the following, beautifully presented of course:
A whole roasted flatfish, local but variety unknown.
A fish and vegetable broth with accompanying backbone pieces
Sliced octopus salad
Sliced seaweed, a kelp apparently
4 mighty bean curd cubes and assorted veggies
2 raw local oysters in vinegar dressing
Scallop and octopus sashimi with rice noodles
And last but never least, the obligatory bottomless bowl of rice

Where to start was my first issue! Was there a set order to tackle it or do you just dive in and run amok amongst the crockery? Thank god that I had 3 friendly birders to surreptitiously watch and attempt to copy. The lady opposite started on the flatfish and once I got the knack of peeling the skin back, so did I. I interspersed this with some veg from my soup which didn't seem to cause any outcry so I deemed it okay.

She added some seaweed to her rice bowl so I gave that a go - slippery stuff but quite nice. After that I branched out on my own and tried the octopus salad in my rice too - very yum. By this point I had finished my fish and was feeling quite proud of myself. I then spotted some swine turn their fish over deftly with their sticks and start on the other side - damn, I didn't figure we had to eat the other side as well! My nemesis opposite did not flip hers but instead tweezed the remaining pieces out from between the rib bones. After too many wasted minutes, I'd retrieved no more than a knat's whisker using this technique so I managed to flip over my now bedraggled fish with only a small worried exclamation escaping my lips as the tail crashed down on to my plate.

Moving on, I opted for the raw oysters next. Having done oysters before in the UK but not quite getting the 'OMG, they're amazing' thing, my expectations were not that high. It's not that I don't like them, I just don't get the general wonderment surrounding something that tastes of salt water. I did have an issue with picking the damn thing up of course, as they weren't exactly small or rigid. However, it was the sashimi that took the prize for difficulty.

After a bit of chasing, the scallops were soy dipped and scoffed and I was ready to tackle the 8-legged beastie. Think of a very large tentacle, perhaps 8cm in diameter, thinly sliced so you have roundish discs. It goes without saying that it was near impossible to pick up but the trickiest bit was working out how to put it in your mouth. It was just that little bit too big to eat in one go but also looked unlike something you could bite a piece from. Being my father's daughter, I went for the 'stuff it all in' option. It was at this point that I looked at Mark. I've seen him do many things in the long years we've been together, but turning a pale shade of green is not one of them. He did, in fact, go a grey colour to begin with and then, as the meal progressed, the green crept in round the edges. It wasn't the taste but the texture - a bit like attempting to eat your own shoe...with your foot still in it.

The meal was ended with fresh green tea and an unexpected compliment on my chopstick ability. The exact phrase used was “you are better than him" which is all I was aiming for really!

A late arriving guest at the lodge wanted an early start in the morning so requested breakfast half an hour earlier. As meals are taken communually, that meant a 6am start for the rest of us too - oh joy! At least the weather looks to be improving.

TTFN, Lisa x

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