Back to the Motherland

First of all, sorry for not updating the blog sooner - the past couple of weeks have been pretty crazy. If you're wondering what happened to me, I spent my last few days in Japan in Hiroshima, then got a nightmarish flight home from Osaka.

Word of advice: Never, EVER, fly with Air China. No matter how cheap it is.

Flick and I had a bad experience with Air China before on our trip to Thailand (the plane was delayed after smoke began pouring out of one of the engines before take off) but we decided to give them one more chance for our flight home. This was a big mistake.

The first leg of the journey went relatively smoothly. We landed safely in Beijing after a short flight from Osaka, but very quickly it all began to go a bit pear-shaped. The queue for transferring flights was insane - after queuing to obtain our boarding passes from the unforgiveably rude staff at the Air China desk, we had to queue again to go through immigration. Bear in mind that we weren't actually leaving the airport, yet we still had to have our passports checked, have our boarding passes stamped several times, fill in two entry and exit forms and then go through a security check. Despite having 2 hours between our flights, we only just managed to make our connecting flight on time because of all the bureaucracy we had to go through.

That was only the beginning though. Our 747 bound for London eventually took off after boarding delays, but about an hour into the flight a message came over the loudspeakers in Chinese which caused several passengers to wail in dismay. A strangled, almost inaudible English translation followed, which we managed to decipher as: "The plane has a mechanical fault and will be heading back to Beijing". Not exactly the kind of thing you want to hear whilst flying over Siberia.

After the plane turned around, Flick spotted something coming out of the wing. At first we thought it was smoke, but then I realised it was fuel - the pilot was dumping fuel. Oh. My. God. Isn't that the kind of thing you do before performing an emergency landing or something? Images of us perishing in a giant plane-shaped fireball flashed through my mind for the next hour, as Flick and I continually exchanged nervous glances. Needless to say, I was just a little tense as the plane came in to land...

Luckily we touched down safely, and we never did find out what the mysterious "mechanical fault" was (although I think I'd actually rather not know). However, the next 12 hours became equally hellish as we were churned through the machinations of Beijing airport, starting with a shocking evening meal served in the dismal confines of Gate 1. It was awful - everyone was served a can of Coke which went out of date a month previously, and Flick discovered a maggot in her vegetables after eating half of them, yet when we complained the catering staff just laughed at us. Eventually, Flick did receive some compensation for the meal after finding a manager to complain to, but the damage had already been done.

After that the airline informed us that we would have to spend the night in a hotel about 40 minutes away from the airport, so everyone wearily piled onto buses for the next stage of our hellish trip (after passing through immigration AGAIN). Upon checking in at the hotel we discovered our flight was scheduled to leave at 5am the next morning, meaning we had a wake-up call at 2am, and a grand total of about 3 hours sleep. Joy. To cut a long story short, we eventually made it home (after one more trip through Chinese immigration) approximately 2 days after we left Japan. Never. Again.

Interestingly, although on an unrelated note, I found out about a year ago that the Chinese government actually blocks my blog, so I'd like to say a big hello to any Chinese censors who may happen to be monitoring this post right now. Hello Chinese censors!

Anyway, now that I've finished ranting about Air China, here's a pictorial guide to what happened during my last week in Japan, starting off with the final, final, final sayonara party in Bear's Bar...

The final, raucous night in Bear's Bar. I miss that place already...

The legendary Master-san - manager of Bear's Bar. Ah, the times we've had within the walls of that legendary ex-pat drinking establishment. Thank you Master-san.

A few famous Fukui faces: Karl, Beata, Chris, Christina, Mac and Jon enjoy a beer. Or two.

And, of course, there was lots of karaoke. Here you can see the girls wailing through some classic Madonna. (L to r: Laura, Flick, Tania, Caitlin (see you in Packwood Caitlin!) Celeste and Kate.)

Fukui city's most famous African and I enjoy a moment together - see you in South Africa Ruan.

I took this picture just as I was getting into the taxi to leave Bear's - a final, final goodbye. So long Fukui! I'm gonna miss you!

After saying our goodbyes to Fukui, Flick and I headed off for a short holiday in Hiroshima before getting our flight back home from Osaka. On first impressions Hiroshima looked pretty much like every other city I've seen in Japan, although it's obviously set apart by its tragic history - reflected in the many monuments to the victims of the nuclear bombing in the centre of the city.

This is the A-Bomb Dome - despite being situated right under the explosion of the nuclear bomb in 1945, most of the building (which used to be an exhibition hall) miraculously survived. The local government has vowed to preserve the structure forever as a reminder of that terrible day.

This mound contains the ashes of thousands of victims of the nuclear bombing - grim stuff. After wandering round the Peace Park and the accompanying museum - with its graphic photos of burns victims - I was certainly in need of a stiff drink. Looking at Hiroshima today, it's difficult to believe the utter horror of what happened in the past.

On our second day in Hiroshima we took a ferry over to the tiny, picturesque island of Miya-jima, which was definitely the holiday for me. Of course, no trip that me and Flick undertake is complete without a spot of mountain climbing - here's me at the summit of the island's tallest mountain, Mt. Misen.

After spending the best part of an hour sweating our way up the mountain, we wisely decided to take the cable car on the way back down. It was well worth the money for the views alone.

Believe it or not, despite travelling all over Nippon during the past 2 years, I've never seen a monkey in Japan. Until now that is - I finally spotted my first simian at the entrance to the cable car on Miya-jima. Get in! I'm so glad I don't have to leave Japan without a monkey sighting...

You've got to watch out for them monkeys though - one false move and you could be on the receiving end of a vicious monkey shakedown.

Here you can see probably the most famous landmark in Hiroshima, and one of the three "most noted views of Japan" - the torii (gate) of Itsukushima shrine. At high tide the gate looks like it's floating on the water, but at low tide intrepid tourists brave the estuary mud looking for photo opportunities. I find I'm usually disappointed by big tourists sites like this, but I actually thought it was really impressive.

However, my favourite part of Miya-jima had to be this - the world's largest rice paddle. My look of utter astonishment and awe says it all - I mean, it's not every day you see a 7.7 metre long rice paddle.

On our very, very last night in Japan Flick and I decided to take the plunge and sample one of Japan's most peculiar and famous inventions - the love hotel. After a bit of internet research we stumbled across one in Osaka called Hotel Pamplona which featured this absolute gem - the Hello Kitty Room (check the Kitty bedspread). Cute? Disturbing? You decide.

The room even had karaoke - awesome. Not quite sure why there was a microwave in there though - presumably some couples like to bring their own microwavable ready meals into the boudoir.

Possibly the most sinister part of the room was this sex-toy vending machine placed under the regal gaze of Kitty herself. It's like she's judging you with her eyes or something. Brrrr.

And here I am back in the UK! Bizarrely, a Japanese restaurant opened up a couple of months ago in the tiny village where I live, so when Flick came to visit a few days ago we thought it would be a great place for a family outing. It's great that I'll have a little taster of Japan right on my doorstep. It's pretty authentic too - they even covered my tofu in katsuoboshi, just like in Japan. Damn you katsuoboshi.

Finally, I took this photo in Russell Square a few days ago, on my way to visit a friend. Here's looking forward to a bright future in London...

Climbing the sacred mountain

Flick and I have been talking about climbing Hakusan (White Mountain) in Ishikawa for months and months. Every time we plan to go we find that we're either too busy or that the weather is just too bad. Finally though, we had our chance this week - after a quick check of the weather we found that Tuesday would be an ideal time to go - and probably our last chance before we leave Japan on the 27th. I took some time off work and set the alarm for 4.30am, ready for the long drive to the mountain.

Hakusan is one of the three holiest mountains in Japan, along with Tateyama (3,015m) in Toyama prefecture and Mount Fuji (3,776m), which of course means that thousands and thousands of people climb it every year. We were a little bit worried that we might face a re-run of the dreadful queuing that occurred towards the top of Mount Fuji - hundreds of people caught in a slow, cold, soul-destroying shuffle towards the summit. Luckily though, we encountered very few hikers on the way up - going on a weekday definitely has its advantages. Plus the official climbing season doesn't begin until this weekend, so I think that helped us to miss the big crowds.

I'm so, so glad we were able to climb Hakusan before we left Japan - the view from the top was easily worth the aches and pains the next day! If you get a chance to climb it you should definitely go... and if you're feeling a bit more adventurous, why not try scaling all 20 of the highest peaks in Japan - click here to see the list.

What am I going to do without all these mountains back in the UK? No more snowboarding, no more climbing... That's it, I'm moving to Switzerland.

I loved this bridge at the start of the trail - very Indiana Jones.

Unfortunately, this was the view of the river underneath the bridge - terrible isn't it? The entire stretch of river had been dammed and channelled into concrete waterfalls. It looked bloody awful.

We encountered our first large pockets of snow at about 1,800 metres. It was so strange to see snow on such a hot summer day (it was about 27 degrees C at the bottom of the mountain). By the way, check out my awesome new hat - it's going to see me round South America next month.

This was a bit scary, as you can see from the look on Flick's face. The path crossed this snow-covered gully, which dropped down for around 100 metres on the left side. One slip and...

At around 2,400 metres there was an eerie, mist-shrouded plateau, covered in undulating ice and snow. It looked a little bit like a haunted sea. Creepy.

We were really surprised to find this massive hotel complex just below the summit - not exactly what you'd expect to see 2,600 metres up in the air, especially since there was hardly any sign of life on the way up. It was a little dis-heartening to spend 4 hours struggling up a mountain only to discover a comfortable, heated hotel lounge with a restaurant and post office annex - kind of takes the adventure out of climbing, don't you think?

It was overcast all morning and afternoon, and we were really worried that we'd reach the top and not be able to see a thing. Amazingly though, just as we were nearing the summit all the clouds cleared away to reveal some stunning mountain views. Then, just after we began our descent the clouds came back again - we were so lucky to get shots like this.

Here's me looking wistful and manly at the summit. The view was fantastic - you could easily make out the coastline of Ishikawa, and you could even see rain falling on the Japan sea.

And of course, no mountain in Japan is complete without a shrine at the top, especially one as holy as Hakusan. Look closely and you can just about make out Flick flashing some peace our way.

Flick celebrates reaching the summit. Yay! We did it! Of course, it took another 4 hours to get down...

Artsy fartsy

The weekend started in anarchic fashion - Flick and I decided to head to karaoke on Friday night, and were absolutely delighted to discover that they were offering as much beer as you could drink and karaoke for as long as you wanted for just 2,800 yen (about 15 quid). We resolved to get our money's worth - four hours later Flick was passed out on my lap and I was determinedly croaking through every last R.E.M. song in the book (of which there were many). Finally, at 4.30am we got a call from the manager saying he was closing. Yes, that's right people, we karaoked till the break of dawn - we karaoke harder than anyone I know. Bring on the karaoke.

Needless to say, our original plan of climbing the 2,700 metre Mount Hakusan the next day sort of went out the window, so we decided to visit the 21st Century Museum of Art in Kanazawa instead. It's one of the last places on our list of things to see before we leave Japan (the others being Mount Hakusan and Hiroshima), and it didn't disappoint.

Before I talk about the museum though, I should mention Kanazawa station - it's brilliant. They've created this enormous torii (shrine gate) entranceway with an undulating steel and glass covered area behind it, finished with a stream which becomes a waterfall as it pours into the basement. I loved it. It's so great to see some really impressive modern architecture that's not afraid to do something different. Fukui has a nice new station too, but it's formulaic in comparison to say the least: just a long, white oblong box with a shopping centre underneath it. "Functional" is the word, I think.

Actually, the general architecture in Japan has been one of the most disappointing aspects of the country for me. Although there are many beautiful traditional houses in Fukui (Asahi in particular has lots), they are far, far outnumbered by awful, boxy prefabs, which look like they've been knocked up in an afternoon, along with some truly hideous office buildings. Walking around Fukui city you'd be forgiven for thinking that absolutely no thought had gone into planning or designing the buildings there, beyond making them purely functional - that word again.

Obviously, in terms of attractive modern architecture, things are slightly better in bigger cities like Osaka or Tokyo, but certainly the overall skyline is nowhere near the utopian ideas I had in my head before I came. Perhaps that's schadenfreude on my part, but the fact still remains that, despite notable and daring exceptions such as the Umeda Sky Tower, huge swathes of the buildings in the above cities are, frankly, ugly. Overhead expressways thread through drab, grey tower blocks and the concrete jungle extends for as far as the eye can see in all directions. Kanazawa, on the other hand, feels like at least some thought has gone into its design, with attractive pedestrianised shopping areas, a trendy cafe quarter, some semi-large green expanses near the centre and, of course, the Art Museum.

The Art Museum in Kanazawa is brand new - less than 2 years old - and the low, circular design really makes it stand out. The transparent walls and interior courtyards give it a really open and airy feel, and the curvy, grassy landscaping is the icing on the cake. More importantly, the art inside was just as intriguing - my favourite was an installation by the Brazilian artist Arthur Barrio, which consisted of a circular room where the floor was entirely covered in coffee grains. It was lit only by several dim lightbulbs, and there was graffiti all over the walls between huge gashes made by a hammer. It was kind of eerie wandering around in the dark, listening to the crunch of the coffee grains as you walked across them... You can see a photo of something similar here.

Another highlight was "The Origin of the World" by Anish Kapoor - a sort of weird black oval. No matter how long you look at it, it's impossible to work out if it's a hole or just a black painting - after a while it becomes quite unsettling as you feel like you're just staring into nothingness. If you want to find out the answer to the riddle, click here, although I'd recommend you see it for yourself before the secret is revealed.

So anyway, beautiful building, great art. Five Lewises out of five.

Flick at the entrance to Kanazawa station.

Random sighting - on the train to Kanazawa we spotted this enormous gold Buddha emerging above the trees... then Godzilla came and fought with it. Buddha won.

I absolutely loved Kanazawa station - it's so nice to see some imaginative modern buildings. Here you can see the torii (gate) entrance way with a waterfall in the foreground.

This clock was just outside the station - if you look closely you can see the numbers are actually made up of tiny fountains. Awesome. A rare example of town planners erecting a piece of street furniture which is eye-catching, stylish, innovative and, most importantly, useful. Watford town council please take note.

The 21st Century Museum of Contemporary Art, Kanazawa. I love all the seemingly random white blocks emerging from the roof - each one is the roof of a gallery. It means that the first thing you do when you enter a room is to look up, since the ceilings are all different heights. It's a nice effect when you emerge from a fairly low-ceilinged room into an enormous aircraft hangar of a gallery.

This swimming pool was in the middle of the musuem. It looks perfectly normal...

...but go down a few steps and you can actually go underneath the pool! What looks like deep water is actually about 10cm of water on a layer of glass. I like art, it's fun.

Madness in Ishikawa

Sorry for the long gap in-between posts - JETfuel has been taking up all my time, but finally I am free! The wheel of the good ship JETfuel has been passed on to the new editors, Jody and Dan - may the winds of journalism be kind under your captaincy.

Anyway, Ishikawa. During the Golden Week holidays a group of us set out on a 3 day camping trip to the Noto Hanto peninsula in Ishikawa - the sort of finger-like protrusion that sticks out from the mainland into the Sea of Japan. I didn't really know what to expect, having read absolutely nothing about it before, but I had a map with a couple of campsites marked on it so that was enough for me. Into the car we bundled, my poor little Daihatsu Mira straining under the weight of three passengers plus camping gear - in fact we bottomed out the suspension a couple of times. You've gotta love these little k-cars.

Seeing as I was the one who suggested the camping trip in the first place, I became the de-facto "leader", which was a bit of a joke since I had as little idea about where I was going as everyone else. On the plus side though, I had a map, so there was a definite advantage to my position. I carefully selected the Oshima campsite as our first port of call, chiefly because it was the nearest and I couldn't be bothered to carry on driving. Also, my car was falling apart, and Tim had eaten some ill-advised rubbery cheese sausages with egg embedded in them, which was causing him to let off the most tremendous trumps I've had the misfortune to smell.

Upon arrival we quickly evacuated the car (leaving the doors open so the fumes could dissipate) and set up the barbecue. The weather was amazing, the campsite was beautiful (a pine wood set behind some dunes) and the brief glimpse we had of the golden, sandy beach on the way in looked enticing. It was going to be a good holiday.

Once we'd eaten our fill of burgers, shrimp and unidentifiable meat (though in my case I stuck to the peppers and mushrooms, natch) everyone decided it would be a good idea to head off and explore the beach before the sun went down. Off we trooped towards the golden shoreline, only to discover... well, to be blunt, an ecological disaster.

The beach was covered, literally covered, in rubbish. Bottles, cans, shoes, computers, fridges - you name it, it was there. We couldn't believe it. It was by far the worst beach I had ever seen. Ever. I was thinking "Well, perhaps they haven't got round to clearing up yet after the winter", but then that can't be an excuse - it was May after all, not to mention the busiest holiday season of the entire year in Japan. Plus there was far, far too much rubbish - it looked like this stuff had been piling up for years. Some of it had obviously drifted across the sea from Korea, judging by the Korean writing on some of the cans and bottles, but most of it was obviously Japanese, and some of the items were too big to have just been washed up - they must have been dumped. Like this computer... 

 I think seeing a beach in such a state is all the more shocking when you consider just how clean the rest of Japan is - the cities bask in spotless pavements (despite the bizarre lack of litter bins) and most people are obsessive to the point of being anal about separating and disposing of their rubbish. So what happened at Oshima?

It was a bit like wandering into Japan's bedroom while it was at school and discovering "Asian Babes do Anal" hidden underneath its mattress. I mean, it can bang on about how it's "not normally like this" and "someone else must have put it there" all it wants, but it means nothing as you wave the incriminating evidence in its face.

So much for all the spiel on the Ishikawa prefectural website about "Coexistence of People and Nature". Apparently the "Preservation of our rich natural environment and protection of wild flora and fauna" is one of their primary goals. My arse it is. They really need to work on number 3 first: "Improvement of prefectural citizen's morals regarding the environment". 

Actually, speaking of nature preservation, there was a curious sign at the end of the beach, with a picture of two flies on it. I took a photo of it, and later had it translated into English - you won't believe what it says. The beach is a nature preserve. Yep, that's right, apparently the beach is home to a very rare species of sand fly, and there's a 50,000 yen fine for anyone who disturbs the flies, and a possible jail sentence for anyone caught removing them from the beach. Although it seems that leaving bottles, cans and shoes for them to play in is perfectly OK. 

As I said, madness. You can read an excellent account of the rest of the trip at Colin's blog - trust me, there was more madness to come.

Colin ponders the horror of it all as he perches atop what could either be a buoy or some sort of abandoned space hopper. Though, having thought about it, it's mostly likely to be the former. I don't know what I was thinking when I wrote it was a space hopper. Stupid, stupid Lewis, go to your room!

It's a fridge! Woooooh!

Ahoy there! We were delighted to find an entire boat amid the flotsam and jetsam, and we eagerly clambered in for a photo opportunity. Then we quickly clambered out again when we realised it was full of broken glass and syringes.

Here's the wildlife protection area sign - you can just about see a picture of two sand flies mating in the top left corner. Lovely. I have a question though: are they sure they're SAND flies, and not just the usual kind of flies you find round a rubbish tip?

The Fearsome Five trudge back down the beach, looking like a band of ecological freedom fighters on a mission. Anyone remember Captain Planet and the Planeteers? Rubbish wasn't it? Captain Planet had an AWESOME mullet though.

Still, at least the sunset was pretty. As I was taking this photo I accidentally trod on a sand fly. No, only joking, it was a used condom.

Visitations

I had some visitors! Hello to DD and Tim, who visited me from Russia and England respectively last week - textbook visiting guys, good job. I showed them the best that Fukui has to offer, which can be summed up in two words: TOAST and COAST. Possibly the highlight of the whole trip was a visit to Tom's Toast Restaurant - Where Dreams Are Made(TM). (Truly, that man is a toast wizard - check the November 2004 archives to see what I'm on about.) Mmmmm, how I love toast. And coast, of course, to a lesser extent.

The guys quickly picked up the Japanese habit of making peace signs every time a camera was in the vicinity, and Tim made a heroic effort at blending in by wearing a yukata (a summer kimono). Although the effect was somewhat spoilt by the trainers he was wearing at the time. Still, 8 out of 10 for effort.

THEY MADE TRADITIONAL JAPANESE PAPER!!!

THEY ATE TOAST!!!

THEY MET TOM THE TOAST WIZARD!!! God bless you Tom (not his real name).

THEY PULLED MANLY POSES ON CONCRETE SEA DEFENCES!!!

THEY CAUGHT CRABS!!! (As in the crustacean, not the disease. I hope.)

THEY BARBECUED!!!

THEY POSED AS TRADITIONAL FOLKLORE CHARACTERS RIDING GIANT CARP!!!

THEY ATE SUSHI!!! Truly, they have sampled the very best entertainment that Japan has to offer.