For spring break, Maggie and I headed south, but not nearly south enough since I still had to wear a jacket and scarf for most of the week. On our week-long train adventure, we visited Hiroshima, Miyajima, Naoshima and Shikoku. The first three were amazing, and the last a smidgen disappointing.
Pics from Hiroshima. Click on the photo to see the entire album.
I got bangs (or a fringe, if you are British, Australian, or South African). At the salon, I pointed to the only Western woman in the magazine with wispy side bangs and got severe Japanese bangs. It took the rest of the week for me to get used to seeing my face in the mirror. With my hair shorter by seven inches, my face looks as if it changed shape.
As for Hiroshima's sights, we saw the A-Bomb dome and the Peace museum and park before heading vintage shopping. Vintage shopping was especially exciting since Wajima has only one second-hand store and it doesn't sell clothing and the best place to go shopping for clothes is in the supermarket, seriously. We also ate the best okonomiyaki ever. Okonomiyaki is a vegetable pancake with flour, cabbage, an egg, and it is topped with green onions, special sauce and mayonnaise. Additionally, there are two styles of okonomiyaki, Kansai style (which I just described) and Hiroshima style. Hiroshima style has the added ingredient, soba (noodles). As it turns out, the noodles make a huge difference. A delicious difference! It is my new favorite Japanese food.
Before heading to Shikoku, we boarded a ferry for a day trip to Miyajima. Miyajima is famous for the floating torii (gate), which is, I think, the most photographed object in Japan. So, we went and took photos, plenty of them. Then, we wandered up the mountain to a temple and back down again for some more of the delicious Hiroshima style okonomiyaki.
Miyajima photos
After making our way back to the mainland, we dashed to catch our train. (We had to dash because we stopped for a last maple latte.) We caught the train and arrived in Shikoku six hours later and a short walk away from our couch surfing host. After crashing in the coldest room that I have ever slept in, we dragged ourselves out of his house in the morning and decided to give hitchhiking a try. We made our way to the highway and nervously loitered on the side. Then, we gathered all of our courage, stuck our thumbs out to face the cars and smiled. About 90 seconds later, a car pulled over and the door opened. A very friendly middle-aged woman agreed to give us a ride to the train station. This is the very train station that we had walked past to get to the high way. Point noted: walk farther away from the train station when trying to hitch a ride to the next town.
We found our way to the famed temple of a 1,000 steps and with a bottle of wine in tow took the challenge. Along the way, we were asked to take a photo of a group of elderly people (This was only odd because Maggie and I were the only Westerners climbing up the steps.), found a giant statue of a sakura (cherry blossom) propeller, and were asked if we were French during a wine break. At the top of the climb, we looked around for the hidden surprise and spotted it in the rocks. Two carved scary faces...hopefully, they are there to protect the mountain and do no harm.
On the way down, we stopped for well-deserved udon, Shikoku's specialty. I had thick white noodles with fish paste and fried bean curd. Sometimes I wish restaurants didn't have an English menu. Noetheless, description aside, they were delicious.
Next, we caught the train to Takamatsu, where we caught the ferry to Naoshima.
Maggie, having read about Mongolian yurts on Wikitravel, led us across the island to this said place. However, because we failed to make advance reservations, the yurts were full and the attendant only had an opening in a compact trailer. We agreed. The very nice, Japanese man stared at Maggie, sized her up, and decided she must be an Amazon giant. (She is not, but at six feet tall, she towers over most Japanese people, women and men.) He, then, in his kindness, offered us the banquet hall to sleep in rather than in the trailer. We humored him and agreed.
I had my reservations because when I hear banquet hall, especially empty banquet hall at night, and in a country that still has not discovered central heating, I had visions of freezing to death. Selfishly, I was more in favor of Maggie spending ten hours in the fetal position in a closet-sized trailer. When it turned out that the banquet hall had two heaters and an endless supply of blankets and futons, I was ecstatic. But it turns out that sleeping in a banquet hall is always a bad idea...as you will almost die. Two words: fan death. Yes, we nearly died of fan death. The two heaters worked well, too well and heated the entire hall. The trouble came when we tried to turn them off. All of the buttons were labeled in Japanese and much more complicated than the simple heater I have in my living room. Luckily, sometime in the middle of the night, after I had reconciled myself with my doom and drifted into sleep, Maggie found the off button.
The next day we packed our bags and set out for a less exotic accommodation: the youth hostel near the harbor. And, it was delightful. We arrived at the hostel at 10:00 am and requested accommodation. The manager promptly took our names and money, grabbed a key, and ushered us into our boxcar where she showed us our beds, the bathroom, and the shower. Immediately alone in our room, we collapsed in exhaustion and a few minutes later took turns taking the most welcome shower.
After we recharged and felt alive again, we set out to see the art. After all, that is why we came to Naoshima. The art didn't disappoint. Even if a little elitist, the Art House Project and Benesse Museum were stellar. The beach pumpkin will not be forgotten.
After biking around the island to see the art, we returned to our hostel and found dinner. The next day we saw the Chicu Museum, which changed the way I will look at Monet forever, and headed back to Takumatsu to continue our journey to our last destination...
Photos from Naoshima.
When we arrived, our hostel owner whisked us off to a local onsen. While I stared at the concrete overpass of a high way, the wooden barrel that I bathed in warmed me to my bones. The barrel was perfectly sized as if it was made with me in mind. In the morning, we headed out to explore a gorge because apparently it is the thing to see in Shikoku. I think not. Well, I hope not. While there was plenty of nature around us, it seemed to be held together with concrete. All of the must see sights were an inconvenient and expensive bus ride away from each other. After paying nearly $20.00 to get to the must see vine bridge, we decided to give hitch-hiking another go in order to get back into town. After walking for an hour, we finally spotted a car going the direction we wanted. The car belonged to a very friendly Chinese couple who were also on vacation in Shikoku. They gave us a ride back to town where we warmed ourselves up with a bowl of soba and bought omiyage (gifts) to take back to our school staff rooms.
The next morning we caught the train and returned to Ishikawa.
Pictures from Shikoku.
For anyone who actually read that entire post, I miss you and send you lots of love (Mom, Dad, and Grandma).
I read it too! I am jealous of your timeliness and your slick Picasa albums. Snazzy. I will get a post up soon, and then we can be dweeby and link to each other. :D
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