Playing catch-up

Yesterday was Akiyoshi Caves. Today Himeji Castle. Tomorrow a 16 hour day getting to Takayama and back. So as you can tell, busy, busy, busy.

So many stories and no time. Will catch up when I get back to Tokyo.

Meanwhile, some pictures to whet the appetite.

The mountain that nearly killed me

Today was a perfect day to visit the small island of Miyajima. It's the one you see in all the brochures for Japan with the enormous Torii seeming to float in the water. Made of pure cypress, it is embedded in the sea floor and has been tended to for 800 years. Makes a 125th birthday seem a bit callow in comparison, yes?

So, to get to this island, there is a 10 minute ferry ride. The day was cloudy with 70% chance of rain predicted. Thank goodness I don't pay attention. I went anyway.

And wouldn't you know it, I ran into my third wedding since I've been here. I noticed a gathering of old and young in exquisite kimono and trying to be discreet, took a couple of photos from afar. The person I thought was the bride had a very unusual obi (the sash) and I wanted to ask if it would be OK to take a photo of it. Turns out, she wasn't the bride but the sister of the groom, she and her mother spoke English because they had lived in Cupertino for 5 years, and they very graciously invited me to join the family when the bride appeared. The photographer fussed and fussed with her garments and her pose. The poor girl was probably exhausted. The ceremony was already over and she had changed out of the white garments into this brilliant red. I felt so privileged to get close for a photo or two and thanked the family profusely when I left.

Deciding to do part of the hike for which the island is famous, I set out without a clue what was to await me as I climbed ever upward. The map they give out to tourists is a total sham. The scale is so far off, you end up walking until you drop for what looks like on the map only a few meters. They also fail to mention that you have to be a 20 year old tri-athlete to make this climb. And just as you are about to tear your hair out in despair of ever seeing civilization again, suddenly around the bend appear - you guessed it - stone steps leading upward and upward and upward. I gamely pressed on, though by this time, even the picturesque water falls, the periwinkle butterflies, the cobalt blue dragonflies, the lichen covered boulders and the fern glades had utterly lost their charms.

Note to hikers: always carry good Belgian chocolate with you so when you die in the wilderness, at least you die happy.

I truly was in despair of making it - no joke - when suddenly I heard voices. I climbed toward those voices with my last remaining strength, clinging to the hope I would see someone who could rescue me.

Can you spot the little crab?

Oh yeah, there were lots of deer too.

As I crested the top, there was an older German couple, Werner and Hannah, along with a young Chinese man. I thought at first they were together, but it just turned out to be one of those amazing coincidences on which turns the difference between deliverance and disaster. Long story short, Chinese guy who now lives in Melbourne (funny I know that but not our saviour's name), realized my serious distress and told us the magic path to take to get to the rope way which would get us back to the town in fairly short order. Everything is relative of course. In short order meant instead of three hours more of climbing stairs, feeling our way over boulders and nearly falling off precipices, we only had to do that for an hour. By cheering each other on and cheering each other up, we made it. Werner and Hannah, unnamed Chinese guy, literally saved me. I will always be grateful and remember their kindness.

The rope way is a hanging gondola suspended over a sheer drop mountainside. The view is spectacular and if you get over your suspicion that it is all going to fall down any instant, it's fun.

So what started innocently enough as a gentle stroll through a park that happened to be on a mountain, ended up being a 5 hour ordeal. Was it worth it? Well, now that I've lived to tell the tale, yes. And if I had grandchildren I would bore them silly with this story at least once a year when they whined about having to walk somewhere instead of taking a car.

I'm serious about the chocolate thing though. If I had good chocolate with me, they would've eventually found me with a smile on my face.

And about the weather, which is how this story started, we actually saw the sun by the end of the day. It was brief, it was hesitant, but it was sun.

Communing with an ancient tortoise

I made a new friend and he's been around for hundreds of years, so he was fascinating company. To back up a bit....

Decided the day was right to visit Matsue, which has been on my mind since I read a Smithsonian Magazine article (totally by chance)  a couple of years ago. The article mentioned a temple unlike any other and the giant tortoise there. If you rub his head, they say, you will have a long life. They also say he would wander around the village at night, so they placed a huge plinth on his back to prevent him from scaring folks with his lumbering about. Well, I just had to meet him.

It was not the most auspicious day. While it was merely cloudy in Hiroshima when I set out, the closer we got to Matsue, the wetter it became. So wet, the train driver had his windscreen wipers going full tilt and they were having trouble keeping up with the torrent. I kept calm, knowing there would be break in the action if I kept a good thought.

I'm not sure what I expected, but Matsue was not as I envisioned. I think I had a picture of a small seaside village snuggled into the base of the gorgeous green hills. Something quaint. Instead I alighted in a bustling good-sized town (I hesitate to call it a metropolis though it does have a highrise or two).

The rain by now had indeed backed off to a steady drizzle. I stopped at the tourist info desk and asked for a map and the best route to Gesshoji (tortoise territory). I had to ask because both in my guidebook and in the tourist magazine JTB tour company gave me as a guide, Gesshoji is not even mentioned as an attraction. SHAME ON THEM.

The sky was leaden and Lake Shinji (no relation to my dog) was the color of unburnished pewter. I painted in autumn colors and azure seas in my head, and it is a remarkable place. Skirting the lake, I forged ahead in intermittent drizzle and rain showers and finally found the entrance. As I stepped into this magical place, it stopped raining. Time was suspended and absolute quiet reigned, only to be pierced by the cry of hawks calling to each other.

Now, at this point I feel I have seen every shrine, temple and wayside offering in Japan. After awhile, they begin to run together in my mind. Not so with Gesshoji. It is utterly different, truly mystical and magical in every nook and cranny. I purposely took my time looking at everything before approaching the object of my search. The anticipation was almost unbearable. And suddenly, there he was, facing away, as if he hadn't had a visitor in awhile and was feeling shy.

So magnificent. So old and a sense of sadness that he couldn't wander around at night anymore. We had a lovely chat. I noted that in the Smithsonian picture of him, he looked very much younger. He agreed there were cracks now - perhaps from an earthquake, since I had noticed other damage on the grounds. Regardless, he maintains his silent vigil.

I had lost all track of time. As if awakening from a dream, there was a sudden intrusion of very loud music (the can-can) coming from the school just down the road. So loud in fact, it shook the clouds and it started to rain again. Time to say goodbye and think about hightailing it back.

 I was walking along a river and this boat appeared out of nowhere.

I had originally planned to visit Matsue castle and perhaps the garden, but by now, visibility was so poor, and the rain started in earnest, so I made my way back to the train station for the long ride home. The train is actually an excellent way to see the countryside without getting wet or having sore feet at the end of the day. I almost feel like a voyeur as we pass people's zen-like manicured backyards or the generally messy back areas which their own neighbors may not see. There are vegetable gardens and rice paddies creating perfect rectangular lakes between houses. We followed a wide river with rugged mountains as a backdrop, cranes, egrets, the odd cormorant or two, and class 5 rapids that would scare the most avid white water rafter.

This was one of those days which will stick in my mind as the reason for coming on this adventure in the first place (see...it isn't ALL about anime).

Hiroshima Days 2 & 3

Another rainy day and it seems it was perfect for visiting Peace Park and Monuments. A day I'm not likely to forget.

I believe I mentioned that Hiroshima is laid out in a straighforward manner with broad boulevards and street signs in English too. So how I managed to turn down the wrong street to get to Peace Park, I'll never quite understand (though to be honest I'm terrible with maps and have zero sense of direction). Once again though, these wrong directions have a way of turning out well if you let them. If I hadn't chosen the wrong street, I would never have known about an extremely special exhibit in what was once a bank building.

I was attracted by a poster about origami cranes. They were exhibiting cranes made by children in 2009 - a big year. The price was right - free - so I entered the building. What met my eyes was not cranes, but exquisite fabric hangings using traditional indigo dye techniques in a whole new way. Every piece was truly a work of art. And the coolest thing about this exhibit is they encouraged pictures.

Having taken a photo of every single hanging, I ventured up to the second and third floors for the crane exhibit. I expected a few sensational cranes. What I found were mountains of cranes. Fountains of  cranes. Microscopic cranes and a giant steel crane. Pictures made of cranes. In 2009, 12 million - you read that correctly, cranes were folded for the festival held in August every year. Seven million are preserved.

There was also a small display about Sadako, the young girl who survived the blast but died later of leukemia. She is the reason for the Thousand Crane tradition related to the Atom Bomb. As I wandered through the rooms, there were tears in my eyes. In fact they were misty all day as I visited the monuments and museums related to the bomb. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.

So what about the third day you ask? Well, my plan was to go to Matsue at last. I got dressed, all set to leave the hotel in spite of heavier rain than I would've liked, when all of a sudden it was a downpour with strong gusty winds. Well even I'm not fool enough to fight that kind of sign to stay indoors. So I had a much needed day of rest and relaxation. Caught up on the blog, took a long nap - you know the things you do on a seriously rainy day. I only left the hotel to run to the 7/11 for food. The rain is supposed to let up a bit tomorrow so I plan to go to Matsue and find the giant tortoise who likes to roam around at night.

P.S. Watching pirates and Johnny Depp speak Japanese is a hoot. Everyone should experience that!