We rose early and went for a walk aroudn Takayama before our train north. We've been rising early since getting here, the better to take advantage of the daylight. Our train wasnt til 11, and check-out at 10, not that anyone would care. In Japan you pay when you check-in, and in cash. After our initial introduction to the place we never saw any staff. Technically, it isn't a homestay, but with the laid back athmosphere it may as well be.
As luck would have it, it was a market day, so breakfast was street food of all kinds. Nothing like following your nose to facilitate ordering. All along the river locals had set up little shops. There was a clear demarcation – food and sake stalls were selling mainly to Japanese tourists, trinket stalls to Gaijin and Japanese tourists alike, but the little curry stall had a line of locals 10 deep.
Out bellies full we started to meander through the city. There was a huge plume of smoke so we set out to find the shrine and see the ritual bonfire. Well, turns out it wasn't a controlled burn at all. We stood with many concerned locals at the police line watching Takayama's bravest battle a conflagration that had spread to two houses by the time we arrived, and was threatening more. Fire is a huge concern anyplace, but this is a city of all wood and paper, not to mention historical wood and paper. For the next hour as we walked around every streetcorner or stoop was occupied by a concerned resident looking skyward.
After sticking our heads into a few of many shrines on the temple walk, we followed the canal that winds through the historic district back towards our hotel. As we emerged from under the giant Shoji gate I looked at my watch; 10:00. Perfect, we can get our stuff and get to the station with enough to time hit the ATM and get some lunch.
One block later, as we come to the door of our room to get our bags, the proprietor and a heretofore never seen housekeeper are businly cleaning the room. “Checkout 10 o'clock” is the perturbed response from our host at seeing us. I look at my watch; 10:02. Appropriate, I guess, since this is our 2nd faux pas. It seems the trains aren't the only thing that runs on time here. We won't make that mistake again.
We get to Kanazawa in time to walk around for a few hours. After we check in and drop our bags, we catch a local tourist bus across town in order to catch the local spring festival. In Takayama the sakura had not yet bloomed. Here the altitude is much lower, and the trees are in their prime. The festival was a mass of locals eating, playing with their kids, walking hand-in-hand under the sakura. There was a stage and drummers, and a VIP viewing stand with the gray-haired local city-fathers in business suits and young pretty-little-thing waitstaff in traditional komonos. Not so foreign, neh? (neh is the Japanese expression that pretty much is the same as the Canadian “eh”, and they use it as much as a valley girl uses y'know)
From the festival we walked by an old samurai castle. A big, bad-ass impregnable fortress with a wide deep moat, plenty of places from which to rain down arrows on your enemies and surrounded by cherry-blossoms. Something for everyone I guess.
Among the overlooks from the castle is a view into the adjacent gardens. Considered among the top 3 in all of Japan, and the cherry blossoms are at their peak! The scene was a canvas of pink, dappled with green, with accents of bold primary colors where vendors had set up stalls on this festival day.
We descended throught the forest around the castle's shrine, and ran the guantlet of vendors. The area was jammed with locals. Hungry, I eyed a waffle-looking thing grilled on a waffle iron shaped like fish. I ask Susan if she wants one, with a glance at the mystery paste with which their filled she gives me a look that leaves no question about ordering “ichi” or “ni”. Turns out their filled with sweet beans, and after Susan ate the big half of mine she went back for more. Yum!
More food and we finally made our way into the garden proper, free today because of the festival. I can't hope to describe it. This place leaves no doubt as to the artistry of its designers. The major features of the garden are imaginative and would be terrifically difficult today, but this place was made four-hundred years ago. But the small touches, which are everywhere, show the hand of a master.
I somehow managed to mess up my ankle, not too badly, but enough that we decided not to do anything after the garden. We caught the bus and went to get something to eat near our hotel. One of the specialties of this area is sushi, so choosing what to eat was a no brainer. We asked at the tourist office of the train station (next to our hotel) for a recommendation for sushi. They sent us to a lttle place nearby that does conveyor-belt sushi. Skeptical, I ask “is it good”. “Hai”.
Well, surprise surprise, conveyor belt sushi is never good sushi, whether you are in Japan or not.
