I am old. I did my best to run away,
but turned 30 nonetheless. Although, when exactly I turned 30 is a
little bit of a mystery, what with timezones and datelines and what
not. We decided that this meant I got to treat two days as my
birthday, the day I woke up in Japan and it was the 24th
here, and the day I woke up in Japan and it was the 24th
where I was born. Poor Susan, we'll be back before hers so she'll
only get one 30th!
We got into Nikko late on the 23rd.
Again, our arrival was facilitated by very friendly locals, as the
Rail station ticket attendant came out of his booth to trot ahead of
us and lead us as we raced to catch the last bus across town for an
hour. Sixty seconds off the train we were on the bus! We checked
into our hotel, and the friendly proprietress informed us “My house
has hot spring.” It wasn't bad translation, she lives upstairs,
and it was as promised – an honest to God Onsen right next to our
room. Perfect after six hours of trains and train stations. We
managed a shower and a soak before shut eye, and were still
unconscious well before midnight stuck and I became officially old.
The morning was gray and wet and
totally uninspiring. We got up slowly. The hotel serves a nice
breakfast, with fruit and bread and free refills of coffee! You have
no idea how nice this is. Coffee in Japan is everywhere, but you pay
somewhere between 3 and 6 dollars, and you get a nice delicate little
porcelin cup with two very tasty sips of coffee in it. The only
cheap coffee in this country comes from vending machines (seriously)
and while it will do in a caffeine addiction pinch, it tastes more
like the can than the coffee. So free coffee refills was a huge
birthday bonus. Eventually, after about four or five big cups, we
bounced off and took in a cute little Shinto shrine just around the
bend from our hotel.
Nikko is a pretty little town. It runs
along the banks of a river that is raging right now from the rains
and the snowmelt. We walked through the town and were in an weid
post-apocalyptic world with very pretty gardens and no living people.
Fortunately, we eventually crossed paths with a gaggle of
yellow-headed urchins on a school trip. The uniforms for the primary
school kids includes bright yellow hats to help cars see the little
buggers when they run out in front of traffic. The effect is pretty
humourous when you're six feet tall and they all turn to stare at
once – as if a field of sunflowers simultaneous rotated to gawk and
giggle.
A few of the Sakura still had their
blossoms, and we took some fun photos with some Buddhas, but the
weather was foul and once the caffeine jitters wore off we both just
wanted to do nothing. Susan was being such a good sport, and didn't
want to do anything that would steer me off of what I wanted to do
for my birthday, but we were both pleased as punch to be back at the
B&B with a cup of hot green tea and a deck of cards. On our
first full game of Canasta Susan had a comfortable victory, and now
on my birthday she celebrated with me by giving me a thumping. We've
been setting a pretty hectic pace so far, and I think a rainy day was
just what we needed. Not to mention our own hot-spring!
We did make it out of our comfort zone
for dinner. We went to this little cook-your-own pancake place. It
was a long walk through town, and at 7:30 this place was dead. We
saw almost noone on the streets, and every shop was locked tight.
The pancake place was cozy and cute, with five or six tables. At two
were some locals and at one a western woman looking like a drowned
rat. About five minutes after we sat down she came over to ask if we
spoke English. She was so hungry, but couldn't figure out what to
do. Fortunately, while she had popped over to us the little old lady
than ran the place put everything on the grill for her. We invited
her to share a beer after her meal. Our order came out and was
ambiguously the pre-dinner salad with too much dressing or the
pancake. We decided to try cooking it – the right move, but
apparently we were supposed to mix it first. We did better with our
second set of pancakes, which actually looked like pancakes. It was
all very delicious and warm after the cold walk in the rain.
Monica, the poor drowned rat, was from
Poland. She was nearly crying when she first came over but seemed to
be doing better with some food in her belly. We chatted over beers
and heard her tale of woe. Seems she doesn't like Japan at all;
thinks the food is inedible, the people unfriendly, and finds the
“assymetry” leaves her feeling like it isn't particularly clean.
We did our best to listen and smile consolingly, and encouraged her
that Kyoto would be much better than her experiences thus far in
Tokyo. But also, she is travelling alone, and I can see that it
would be much harder not having anyone to talk to or split the
logistics with or drag you to lunch when you become hypoglycemic and
non-functional.
Even so, I can's resolve her experience
with my own. A few days earlier, when we were on our way to Nara, we
had to change trains in Osaka, but it turns out there are two
different stations with the same name that are conjoined, but about 1
km apart. When we were staring at our guidebook, trying to decode
the overhead signs in the station a kid came by, offered to help and
then walked with us almost the whole way. He too, didn't actually
know where we were going, and kept asking directions of random people
along the way.
The second morning in Nikko the weather
had broken. The clouds had lifted and suddenly we could see that the
hills around the village were really mountains, and that behind these
rose a ridge of behemoths still topped with snow. It's actually
still ski season in Nikko, and had we wanted to we could have been up
there in a couple of hours. Instead, we used our proximity to beat
the crowds which typically come up as a day-trip from Tokyo. The
grand jewels of Nikko are tightly packed in a circuit up and back
down the mountainside, deep in ancient forests. A Tokugawa Shogun is
buried here (and partly in Koya-san as well) and Nikko is where
Horihito spent the second world war – safely away from the cities.
The temples of Nikko were great,
settled deep in the forested hills. Right about the time we
completed the circuit they were getting crowded, and we were getting
hungry. The specialty here is Yuba, which is made from the skin on
soy milk. It is way better than it sounds, I promise you. We've had
so many different types of food in Japan, from three-year aged Fugu
(blowfish) roe to the “peasant food” of soba (buckwheat noodles)
and I can't think of anything I didn't like except for the squid
balls posing as creampuffs.
Ater a nap we took a nice little hike
to a nearby public onsen. The path winds along the river and through
a little series of “Jizu” statues. He is a sort of the guardian
spirit, particularly of children, so you often find him wearing
little red bibs and little red hats (so he doesn't get cold). The
sun was out and the weather pleasant but a little crisp, perfect for
cooling off after our soak.
The next day, on our last morning in
Nikko, we went for a quick hike again, and to get some photos with
Jizu. Then we were off for our trains and Kamakura.
