Tuesday 17th May 2016 (updated)

It really felt like we were on the final sprint of the holiday now; ahead of us lay our final trip on a bullet train, we had already sent our bags on ahead they day before. All we had to do now was get ourselves up in time for breakfast at half seven, where we had chickened out and ordered a European breakfast instead of a Japanese one. The main difference being we vaguely recognised some of the stuff we were served, the main part of which was omelette.

I think there was always some stress in arranging travel in a strange company. And we had done a lot of traveling around the country; booking seats, arranging transfer of our bags, and all the while not speaking Japanese. But it worked, and people were so nice, and somehow, every time, even when we could not speak Japanese, and the other could speak no English, we made ourselves understood. And so we were happy. And relieved I think to be going back to Tokyo.

It was a sad parting, once we had packed and Jools and Jen went paddling in the hot spring, it was time to go. All the staff lined up and we all bowed to each other, they really seemed to have enjoyed having us stay, and all three of us found ourselves almost crying as the bus whisked us away.

We had to queue outside the station, then 15 minutes before departure we were allowed onto the platform, so we could queue where there were markings, all in neat lines. We were in the rear carriage, and as it turned out, in the very rear two seats of that carriage. Behind us was the rear cab of the train, which we were able to see the tracks behind, although the guard didn't seem to appreciate us looking at him, and stood up if we looked too much, thus blocking the view. It seemed that we had been given first class tickets this time, as there were only three seats in each row, and we seemed to have so much room.

The train pulled away, two minutes late, but I suppose we made up time as it was downhill pretty much all the way, and we rattled along at a fair pace going through the 28 major tunnels on the line. As we descended the gorge, the weather got better and better; the sun came out and the land looked so full of life.

Here is a video of the whole four hour trip: amazing that we rode on this train!

I had looked forward to the journeys as much as our destinations, and so it was with this trip. Going down the gorge with its incredible views and infrastructure. Jools tried to stay awake. She told me she did, but the clackity clack over the jointed track was like the ticking of a clock, and even after a while my eyes began to close. But then a view would open up, or we would arrive in a town and there would be something to see.

Once we had left the gorge, and were crossing the fertile farmland again, the sun was very warm indeed, and we hoped that this would continue on our next leg up to Tokyo so we could see Mt. Fuji, but the forecast was for rain and drizzle further north.

Once in Nagoya, we had 20 minutes to get to the right platform, time enough to go to a cabin and buy some snacks for lunch as we zoomed to Tokyo. We all bought sandwiches and some crunchy snacks, then took up position near to the entrance where our carriage would stop. I had seen enough bullet trains so that I didn't go to the end of the platform to take any shots. Such is the way.

Our train arrives, and we get on with no fuss, finding our reservations facing the direction of travel, of course. And then we could tuck into our lunch, as we powered along at nearly 200 mph. I was happy.

Sadly, as we went north, the weather got worse and worse, and by the time we were where I had worked out where Mt. Fuji should have been visible from the train, cloud level was about 100m if that. So no volcano this day, and unlikely to see it before we leave, sadly. Always next time I suppose.

We arrived in Tokyo dead on time, and once off the train we walked to the taxi rank and waited in line for our turn. Trust us to get the one driver who did not have the Knowledge, and even presenting him with the address in Japanese, he did not recognise it, and even with sat nav, he was struggling. He got in roughly the right area, so we set off into the steady drizzle falling .

We were staying at the Park Hotel, and after driving round for ten minutes, he dropped us off at where he said our hotel was, the Royal Park Hotel. It was owned by the same chain we had stayed in twice earlier, so seemed right.

But, once we got to the lobby on the top floor, the staff smiled and said that this wasn't the right hotel. She assured us it was nearby, and she said some directions which seemed simple enough.

But with the rain falling harder, each skyscraper surrounding the walkway we found ourselves on all looked the same, but we did know that at the top of one there were rooms for us. From the directions given, it should have been the one we were sheltering in the lea of. I said I would go round and see if it was the place. The rain fell harder and harder, and I was getting damper and damper. I had to walk round three sides of the building until I found an entrance. I go in and ask at reception if this was the Media Building. It wasn't. Where is it? You have to go outside, she said.

I go back outside and the rain was hammering down. My coat is in one of the rooms high above me, so I got wet. Very wet.

I had no idea, and was about to admit to Jools and Jen that I could not find it, I looked over glass wall of the walkway, and on the entrance to the building on the other side of the road, I see the name of the hotel we were looking for.

I wave to them to come over, and together we walk over the walkway to the entrance and take the lift to the lobby on the 25th floor, where the lobby was, and the hotel began.

We get keys to the rooms, both on the 31st floor, so take our soaking asses into another lift and go up. We open the door to our room to find the walls were covered in Japanese Pop Art; seems that this was an ongoing project for the hotel to get leading artists to decorate rooms in the hotel. It was bright and busy, but we came to like it. And out of the huge window, we could see all the way to the ground 31 floors below, and the trains and monorails rattling along far, far below. I wish I could sit at that window every day, to see how the light changes and just to watch the trains come and go.

A few hours later, we go out to look for a place for dinner, and on the plaza below, we find an English pub with an Italian place beside it. That'll do. We go into the pub for a swifter, and find it a mix of locals and European ex-pats. Their beer was good, which was important, clearly. We get talking to a chap from south London who had lived in Tokyo for 25 years. He said he enjoyed it there, and why would he lie. But the fact he spent a lot of his spare time in an English style pub, all faux Victorian fittings built into the ground floor of a modern office block.

We went next door, and although the wine and pasta were good, not the best Italian we had on the trip, not by a long chalk.

Afterwards, I say I will wander about to take some shots using the wide angle as buildings tower above us on all sides, with more behind in the gaps. I snap away, but as I am still unused to the area, I go upstairs to try the whisky bar out and find it empty, bar for the tender. I order a Japanese malt, and take a set in the corner at the edge of the large picture window, with the big city lit up like Christmas outside. It feels like a scene from Lost in Translation, and it pretty much one of the things I wanted to do on the trip.

I order a second whisky, then call it a night, meeting Jools back in the room where it is the final case packing time.

One more day......

Monday 16th May 2016 (updated)

We had one full day in Takayama, and the day would begin with a traditional Japanese breakfast. Another multi-course meal, with lots of small bowls of food, some more suited to a western dinner, but we tried most of it. Really good was the corn soup, with was lovely and sweet. As much as I try, I can't get a liking for either green tea or miso soup, the latter which is served with almost every meal. Soup for breakfast just doesn't feel right, certainly not a meat-based soup at that.

Kai was perfect as a server, explaining what each bowl contained, and what we would expect. And as ever, the meal was perfectly presented, with each dish, no matter how small, presented in its own little bowl or dish. Eating is really a fine art here in Japan.

We got changed into our western clothes and got ready to go out. Although rain was forecast, it was dry if overcast and warm.

We took the shuttle bus to the station, so we could book seats for the train the next morning, and because it dropped us near to the ancient town centre.

We booked seats on the train back down to Nagoya, and an express back to Tokyo, meaning we would be back in the biggest city just after two, just in time to check into our last hotel.

The area around the station and between the railway and river was a typical modern Japanese town, narrow side streets and with many clothes and convenience stores lining the pavement. We do a bit of window shopping until we come to the river, and on the corner of the bridge there was a cafe, and one that looked quite western. Its not that we mind the Japanese one, but to have something solid, something familiar. Anyway, we go in and the server is a fine gentleman from Vermont who gives us the low down on the town, places to visit. And as a bonus serves fresh pancakes with fresh cream topped with strawberries.

Three of those with coffee, please.

We sat at a table by the window, as the gentleman talked us through what living in Japan was like, and how difficult it is being a vegetarian there, not quite what you would imagine, but many sauces and soups are meat based. I stay for a second, stronger coffee, as American coffee as its called, is pretty mild in Japan.

The old merchant quarter lay over on the other side of the bridge, and was now split into two, with thew closest ones having the old houses converted into shops, whilst the ones down the river retained their charm and appearance and were open to look around. It was, however, tat central. And rammed with people, families, couples and most of all, groups of people following someone holding up either a red flower or an umbrella. And trying to make trade and get past those ambling, were rickshaw drivers, who whilst they pulled their clients gave a commentary and stopped to photograph his charges.

And through this, we tried to force our way, whilst looking for the diamonds in the rough, gifts for friends and colleagues back home. It really was better than I am making out, with many clothes shops and pottery and china-wear mixed in with the usual waving cat statues.

We walk north towards the better preserved and quieter area. Mixed in with all the fine shops. On the way was a tractor repair shop, which is just what you'd expect too see in a toursit quarter, of course. We walk up and down fine cobbled streets past grand merchants houses and temples.

Mixed in with the merchant houses were large gated buildings, stores for what were described on signs as carnival floats. But no British carnival had ever seen flats this ancinet and wonderfully designed These come out and are paraded through the town on carnivals days in spring and autumn, whilst others are stored in the town museum. We walk on.

Well, until it was coffee time at least. We find a place with a carp pond and waterfall in the middle of it, which is the minimum we demand of our coffee shops. Jen's cappuccino had the face of a teddy bear designed into the foam on top. Until Jen poured a packet of sugar into the cup, and it looked like the bear had been in a bad car accident.

We retrace our steps to near the red bridge, as Jools wanted to buy one of the jackets that we wear in the ryokan, but in the only store we found the jackets for sale, store they refused to sell her one as they were for men. Apparently. So, she went back to see if they had forgotten her, says that she is buying one for her husband back home. And all the while Jools and I sit on a street corner watching the world going by; people on bikes, people in traditional costume, people in traditional costume on bikes, people in high-heeled sneakers. You name it....

We wander round some more, but with dark clouds rolling in and our feet aching, we decide to get a taxi back to the Ryokan, which is what we do. Needless to say, Jools and I hit the hot tub for a while. Ahh, this is the life.

I write some, we listen to the radio

That evening, we decide we fancy some more beef shabu-shabu. So, after calling a taxi, we try to explain to him what we wanted. He thinks for a while, then gets his i-phone out and asks it the best shabu-shabu place in town. Which is where he takes us, a big modern building with four chandeliers, which is one more than the minimum we require. Anyway, we order shabu-shabu which, when it comes is not cooked in a pot, but on a griddle, which was like eating thin cut steak, which wasn't a bad thing. And once each piece was cooked, you dipped it in two sauces and gobbled it all up.

Lovely.

In then next booth was a young western family, with three young children, trying to find something on the menu to make their children happy. No happy meals here though, just steak. There were lots of unhappy faces. We enjoy ourselves, however, and have had another fine meal.

And back to the ryokan in another cab, where we play cards yet again and drink more cheap domestic beer from cans chilled in the mini bar fridge.

We know how to live.....

Sunday 15th May 2016 (updated)

Today would have been Granddad's 100th birthday; he would have been surprised were he still alive to hear that I would be celebrating it in Japan.

Today, we are heading for somewhere new, this time a place in the hills, a village called Takayama. And to get there we would have to get onto the main line, have a two hour bullet train ride to Nagoya, then catch something called the Heda Limited Express for a two and a half hour trip into the hills.

We had been unable to book our seats the day before, so in order to make sure we got to the Ryokan in time for dinner, we would have to get up early and be at the main line station ASAP. So, the alarm went off at half seven, down for breakfast so we could be in the taxi for quarter past eight. As ever there was a box of delights for breakfast, but we found something between the salad, curry and fried pickles that seemed ok to us to eat in the morning.

With that done, I order the taxi, and we are on the short ride to the station at eight fifteen And upon leaving, there is much bowing and words of thanks from both sides, and once again the uniformed staff open the taxi doors for us. We are on the platform ready for the express service into Okayama, where it was no trouble in getting seats together on an express in less than an hour's time. In fact, being the only people getting on the train, we did wonder again if this was the train we needed. We sat in an epty carriage, all with starched headrest overs and sparkly clean windows. A lovely non stop trip right to the main line station.

So we go to the platform, get a coffee from a vending machine. Cans of already hot coffee, which are warm to the touch, and good enough for this coffee snob on the move. Then I wander off and take more shots of sleek high speed trains. One looked different, so I go to the neighbouring platform to snap it. Turns out it was one of the previous generation, and 22 years old; but looking more modern, sleeker and faster than the current class 700 series.

As I walk back to the steps leading down to the concourse so I could make my way back to Jools and Jen, I hear the noise signalling that the doors of the train were closing, but I look at my watch, I should have more than 10 minutes before the train left. I imagined Jools and Jenn and the bags going somewhere else in Japan, with no way of contacting me. I swore, ran down the steps and back up the ones leading to where I had left Jen and Jools on the train, to find it still waiting.

They were amused at my distress, and I sweating like crazy.

Anyway, the train pulled out exactly on time, with me cooling down in the window seat, and soon we were flying through the Japanese countryside, my worries soon forgotten about. We pass through scenery full of tree covered steep hills surrounded by endless paddy fields, reflecting the partially cloudy sky. Jools soons nods off, but I am enthralled, as I have been since I was a kid at the countryside and twon rolling by, apparently just for my enjoyment. In larger towns and cities, there are large fenced structures which I see finally are golfing ranges,

A couple of hours later, we got off at Nagoya, and having just ten minutes to get our connection, it was worrying to find a queue at the ticket barrier; and frustrating as all we had to do was flash our passes and would be let through. An Australian woman at the front just stood there wilt the guard talked to someone coming through the barrier in the other direction. We seemed to stand there for ages, I lent forward and nudged her husband who gave me a mouthful, I said that we had a connection to make. He sneered that they did too. I cent to confront me once we were through the barriers, but we just walked on to the platform to get our train.

There was a good chance he would be on the same train as us, and I might bump into him once we reached our destination, so I mulled over what to say, and in the end a heartfelt apology was needed.

The train pulled out and right away the guard made an announcement for the fact the seats were pointing in the wrong direction, but explained that at the next station the direction of travel would reversed and we would be facing the right way. Because, on most trains the seats can swivel so will almost always face the right way, as well as lining up with the train windows. See, it can be done, just not in Britain. Apparently.

Anyway, the six car diesel unit, accelerated across the farmland, but all the time nearing the high tree covered hills, and soon began climbing into a river valley which soon narrowed to a gorge. Unusually, the line was made of jointed track, so we click-clacked our way up the valley, criss-crossing the river dozens of times.

The line followed the river up the gorge; through bamboo groves lining the river lower down, through woods, across paddy fields, through tunnels and numerous bridges crossing back and forth over the river. We past hydro-electric plants, dams and other flood reduction measures, passed through small villages and larger towns. It was all so green down in the gorge, with the hills rising hundreds of feel almost vertically to the sky on both sides.

We reach the watershed, a wide valley covered in paddy fields; the track takes a tight loop of nearly 270 degrees before heading down flowing another river. In a few minutes we glide into Takayama.

We let the rest of the passengers get off, then take ourselves and our bags to the platform then through to the parking lot and bus station beyond. We see the shuttle bus and make ourselves known; we were crossed off the list and allowed to board the bus.

It is a ten minute run down the main street to the Ryokan, past shops, houses and urban paddy fields!

We get off the bus and staff from the ryokan line up and bow to us each in turn. We are taken inside, past a huge pool full of koi carp, a hot water spring paddling pool in which to soothe tired feet, and into the huge lobby, where each party is taken to a set of comfortable armchairs and sofas so the checking in process can begin. We are allowed to choose tradtional clothes which we will wear whilst we stay, and our shoes are taken away, as from now on we had to wear slippers or socks that they had provided.

In our room we are shown the very limited storage space, the arrangements for the making up of our futons later that day, and that dinner will start at half seven. Beyond the sliding doors leading to the balcony, there is a hot tub, with fresh water dripping in thus keeping it topped up. We had four hours, and suddenly felt very tired. Jen was on the floor below, and she had been taken to see her room, so we had a shower and took to the hot tub, or onsen as it is called.

It was wonderful, just cool enough to be able to get in the water, but hot enough to have steam rising into the air. We lazed in the tub for an hour, getting all red and wrinkly.

At half seven we went down to our private dining room, and Kei who had been assigned to wait on us. Another 12 course banquet lay ahead, and it was fabulous, although we did have to pass on the oyster course as none of us like them. It was a bit of a lottery with what we were eating, but most of it wonderful, even the conga eel again.

The full menu is as follows:

Soybean skin and Sakura shrimp marinated with horseradish leaf
Icefish fried with crushed rice cookie
Manila clam marinated with broad bean paste
firefly squid stewed with ginger
broad bean, bracken and fried wheat gluten
asparagus with salmon
edible wild plants marinated with grated radish

Steamed conga eel
Sashima (sushi) of the day
roasted Hida beef
Bracken with fried bean curd, sea bream roe and prawn
Hida beef steak
Sea tangle flavoured scallop with strawberry vinegar
Freshwater fish
Bamboo shoots with dried laver (sic)
Miso soup
steamed rice
Pickled horseradish
Salted vegetables

Seasonal deserts

To be honest, getting this last traditional dinner was a bit of relief, in that we were tense at having to decline such wonderfully prepared food, because of our narrow western tastes. It started to feel like the end of the trip was beginning, doubly so as tomorrow we would have a full day in the town, before catching a train the day after, and then one final day in Tokyo before we would make the long journey home.

All good things come to an end, in time.

Needless to say, the evening ended with cards and beer, and listening to the radio via the interwebs.

Saturday 14th May 2016 (updated)

And time to move on once again.

We have breakfast at half eight, this time featuring something we recognised; omelette.

After packing, we send the cases onto the destination after next, as we where we were going, we would be there just one night.

We got the shuttle bus to drop us at the pier for the ferry, we were driven half over the mountain, down narrow and winding roads, some featuring deer looking for food for some reason in the middle of the road, before arriving at the pier 5 minutes before the sailing. We had a panic as we realised we had to find our rail passes to get on the ferry. Jen finally finds hers at the bottom of her bag, so we were able to walk along the linkspan and onto the ferry, which with no schoolchildren in faux military uniforms on board meant we could find seats on the deck, so once underway we could watch the island slip away.

It is another glorious morning, perfect with clear blue skies and no wind, so we enjoyed the breeze created by the ferry's forward motion until we arrived on the mainland where it got several degrees warmer. In the inlet, there appeared to be fish farms; large wooden structure stretching for hundreds of metres just above the service of the water. All that seafood must come from somewhere I suppose.

A walk to the railway station where we had a 20 minute wait for the express into Hiroshima, and from there we go seats in the bullet train to Okayama. Being so hot, and with so much travelling to do, we decide not to visit Hiroshima at all, deciding to include when we come back, as we so want to return as soon as we can. And once again I run around taking shots of the bullet trains, although with almost every train looking the same, it really was beginning to fail to thrill. But hey, BULLET TRAINS!

We have no idea where in Okayama we might visit, and the thought of wandering around the city in the afternoon sun didn't thrill us, so we made the decision to travel all the way to Kurashiki to the next hotel, and look for lunch there. I am away at the far end of the platform once again, when our train pulls in, so panicking once again I might be left behind, I scamper down the platform only to find that the train is going to wait 20 minutes before departing. So there had been no hurry.

We arrive in Hiroshima, and follow the signs to the local trains, and work out on which platform our train will arrive on. One pulls in, and for a moment we stress that it might not be going to Kurashiki; we ask on the train in English and it is confirmed we can get on this train. It is standing room only, but that's fine as we only have a 20 minute run.

We pass through endless marshallling yards, then onto a fast line that zips us through the suburbs and over endless drainage canals. Each town looked the same, and all pretty modern, and I did begin to wonder why we had asked to come here. I hope Jools and Jen were not going to be disappointed.

We arrive in Kurashiki, and get the only taxi waiting to drop us at the hotel; he seemed happy enough, but it was less than a mile away, the meter in the cab hadn't ticked over to increase the basic price. Two uniformed members of staff spring from inside the hotel, hold our doors open and carry our bags inside. Inside it is all gleaming glass and marble, and looke every bit a modern western hotel. We are allowed to check in, even though it was only just after one in the afternoon.

Now, earlier in the day I had said what with land in such short supply in Japan, all houses and hotels have such small rooms, therefore once we pulled up at our next one, we though it would also feature tiny rooms. Once inside, it was like a palace, with gilding everywhere, once checked in, we took the lift to the top floor, where both the single and double room were huge. Also a feature was a huge marble walk in shower which featured no less than 8 nozzle jets, which would nearly do for me later in the day. But best of all, the room has the finest air conditioning known to mankind; it was like a fridge in there, and we just laid on the bed, cooling down.

But once settled in and cooled off, we go in search of the old town and lunch. As I said before, there must have been a good reason for us coming here, and when I looked at the tourist map, I saw there was a canal and what looked like historical buildings just over the main road in front of the hotel.

We were here because it was an old pottery town, apparently, and featured old merchant houses beside a canal. In fact the whole area seemed to be reclaimed land, criss-crossed with canals and drainage ditches. But the old town in Kurashiki is well worth any visitor's half day.

We walk across the main road, and right away into a Japanese tourist area, full of shops selling trinkets and gifts, mixed in with restaurants. It is so hot, the air seemed so heavy, and as well as being hungry, we needed a drink.

And best of all, we seemed to be the only westerners here, which is always a good thing, not having people complaining about the heat, or the tea, or the beer. A way down the canal, we come to a place that looks good, so we go in and find it specialises in buckwheat noodles, which is unusual even in Japan. Turns out they are well yummy, and we have a fine feast and ice cold beer and tempura, which is floating in the broth with the noodles.

Buckwheat noodles must be very tough when raw, as the chef has to use a tenor saw to cut through a bunch of them in getting them to the right length.

After that, we walk round the old town, looking in the craft and tat shops. In the end most of the shops sold variations of the same things. I did find a beer shop so buy a couple of bottles of craft ale as gifts. It isn't that crowded, which was nice, but the road was hot even through my shoes, and even though it was interesting we walked back to the hotel to chill out and have showers.

It was during the shower that yours truly nearly boiled himself with the shower controls, as each pair of nozzles had a controller, but each had its temperature governed by a main controller, and the main head a controller under that. After a long and pleasant shower, I went to turn the water off, but instead turned the temperature to over 40 degrees. The door to the shower opened inward, and even with the main head pointed fully over, I could only get out the door by going back under the spray of the boiling water.

I screamed.

I got out and was pink like a boiled lobster.

An overweight lobster, clearly, but pink.

However, my first aid knowledge meant that I realised they were just 1st degree burns in the same way sun burn is, I soaked the areas in cold water soaked towels, and soon I could laugh about it.

We go down to the cellar bar for cocktails, where it was possible to smoke, which was a surprise. I had a white Russian, which was felt very decadent at those prices. Jools had a frozen Margarita and Jen a gin and tonic.

When we had drunk, it was dusk outside, so we made our way to the canal area where I took loadsa shots as the sun turned pink and then red, whilst bats wheeled above our heads catching bugs. Some others had tripods, cable remotes and all the rest of the equipment that photography seems to demand. I hand hold my shots, and all come out. Jen tried with her i pad, which also produces good results.

A short walk away was a nice Italian place where we had splendid pasta and a very nice bottle of Brunello. Most others seemed to have pizza, but we have fine pasta and garlic bread, and all is washed down by what is a quite expensive bottle of Italian wine.

We wandered about after, remarking at the amount of police on duty, seeing as there was a G7 Education conference or something. As we walked past the Italian restaurant again, the manager of the Italian place we had eaten was waiting, and he shouted "camera, camera", whereupon, he came back out clutching Jools' compact that she had left on the seat.

And that, my friends, is Japan in a nutshell.

Cards and beer to see out the day, as usual.