November 19, 2006

Miyajima to Hiroshima

After a frightening night in truly the most disgustingly filthy youth hostel yet, I eagerly took off for Hiroshima. My desire to hurriedly shake the dust off my feet from the place led to one major disappointment, leaving my razor and Dr. Bronner’s Castile Soap behind. Damn.

Hiroshima is a very nice city, with a great train station and brand new youth hostel. Yeah!!! This one is the exact opposite of the previous night’s stay and 730 Yen cheaper a night. Things to be grateful for…

I met a great pair of travelers, Harold and Bo, who went to university together. We decided to tackle the town together, in the poring rain. We wandered past the Atomic Dome, the only remaining building from the attack left purposefully in desolate condition, then on in search of "Hiroshima Pancakes".





This local delicacy is a layered extravaganza of flavors. The grill master starts by frying a crepe type pancake and then fries noodles in a round patty. Stack that on top of the crepe and add a heaping helping of shredded cabbage with two strips of bacon. Flip so that the bacon and cabbage side is now facing the grill. Start to fry one egg. Flip the stack so that the crepe is once again facing the grill and add soft egg to top. Finish with oyster sauce and bingo you just made a Hiroshima Pancake.





With full bellies we headed off for the Hiroshima Peace Museum. My emotional guards were up for about the first hour and fifteen minutes of the museum tour.

Photos/maps of the devastation (Atomic Dome below) were followed by shredded school clothing under glass.





Then, unexpectantly, my heart was completely broken at a point in the museum tour where you can touch a piece of roof tiling, bubbled from the heat of the atomic blast. Something visceral happened when the exhibit stopped being "behind glass" and entered my world.


Then there was a watch permanently stopped at 8:15am.



This was followed by a haunting human stain, on the stone stairs of the Hiroshima Bank Building, physically displayed in the museum. All that remained was a shadow of a seated person on the stairs. This was truly, richly, impactful.





We left the museum in the dark of early evening, with the added ambience of a drying sky and glistening wet pavement that reflected the eternal flame. No matter your personal rationale for either dropping the bomb or protesting its use, the human loss of war was clearly displayed.

November 18, 2006

Kyoto to Miyajima

After catching the bullet train from Kyoto to Miyajima, it was a rainy day for this World Heritage Site, home of the O-torii Gate and Itsukushima Shrine. Precipitation started to fall about noon never let up. Everyone was pretty much soaked.





The island beauty of Miyajima took a little while to settle in. At first blush the O-torri gate is not all that impressive and taken in isolation would likely remain that way.





However, when put in context with the entire shrine and temple rich island a deeper appreciation develops. It is well worth the effort to walk through narrow streets and enjoy the smells of fresh seafood preparation while eyeing the craft goods.













For the adventurous, a hike to the top of the mountain or a walk along the island's perimeter reveals many picturesque hidden scenes.











(Does anyone know what these shells are for? No one knew locally... they are covered and uncovered by sea waters with the tides.)



One feature of the island that is particularly interesting is the herd of completely tame deer. These animals will nibble at your pockets or skirt is you are not careful. Most animals are so tame that you have to get out of their way, instead of vice versa. Unfortunately, they have also turned into avid garbage scavengers. This may have affected their diet as I actually saw a deer eating a live fish on the beach that had been grounded by the receding tide. I thought deer were strictly herbivores but in this case clearly “omni”. Could there be other cases of herbivores crossing over?





I was completely and pleasantly surprised. While on the train down to Miyajima from Kyoto I met two girls traveling together. When we said our “Good Byes” at the train station we jokingly said, “Ok, see you on the island later this afternoon.” What are the chances, among thousands of tourists and hundreds of places, to actually meet again? After dark, which is really anytime after about 4:30pm, I was returning from a hike on the outskirts of town and saw two women walking down the hill under umbrellas. Could it really be them? Yep. We had a great spontaneous outburst of laughter and hugs, followed by a picture.

November 17, 2006

Kyoto

I wasn’t feeling all that great this morning, so casually drug myself out of bed at about 8:30 am. By the time I was out the door it was almost 10:00am.

This Kyoto Hostel, K’s Place, has a bike rental service. So for the equivalent of $10 you can spend the day cruising the streets of Kyoto onboard a decent mountain bike. One thing to be aware of is that there are no bike lanes and traffic can be suicide, so the sidewalks are fair game for you and a few thousand local pedestrians. Very quickly one becomes an expert at just how wide your shoulders are and how to instantly stop the bike and pivot without a foot touching the ground.

This is an especially handy skill set for taking an impromptu photo break of a huge flock of kindergarteners.



Today’s adventure was the Imperial Palace, home to generations of emperors for a thousand years until the capital was moved to Tokyo in 1869 and Nijo Castle, residence of the Shoguns until circa 1867. Both are definitely worth seeing. Nijo Castle allows internal access to one of the palace buildings, while the Imperial Palace is more of a garden and architecture tour from the outside. The two tours definitely had two distinct tones.

For the Nijo Tour, park your bike for a daily fee of 200 Yen, then simply walk up to a vending machine and 600 Yen later a ticket spits out.



For another 500 Yen, rent a headset and your self-guided tour is off and running. Soon you will be enjoying the fortified home of the Shogun complete with Geisha and Ninja quarters.







To gain access to the Imperial Palace one must go to the information bureau the day prior or in the off season early morning and apply for a “permission form” to enter the grounds. It is a requirement to be in line 10 minutes prior to the tour start time so that passports can be checked against permissions. This is all carried out via armed guard. The tour is friendly, but somewhat formal, with a secret service type assistant helping the guide keep the tourists together (silently herding the group with either a stern or pan faced expression). This would be all well and good if the Emperor actually lived in the palace.



He and his family officially live in the Tokyo Palace and the current Emperor even broke a centuries old tradition of being “enthroned” in Kyoto by having the throne flown by helicopter to Tokyo for the ceremony and then returned back to Kyoto. (Pictured below, across the courtyard, is the Kyoto Emperial throne room. There are sixteen steps rising up to the emperial court hall. Being followers of Chinese architectural design and numerology in architecture, the Japanese doubled the "good luck number 8 to 16 for double good fortune. )





Don't be discouraged by a lack of royal presence. You can still visit the reigning emperor's great grandfather's gardens. At one time if you were quick enough to write a poem, before a paper boat carrying rice wine passed, you could pluck Saki from the stream and share your poem with the Emperor. With his approval of your poetic efforts, the wine was yours to drink. This style of poetic garden party became famous in Japan.





The Kyoto Emperial Palace has many interesting markings and designations. One of which is chrysanthemum roof tile endings. Anywhere that you see this marking on a building will be an instant moniker for the Japanese royal family.



After the Imperial Palace the rest of the afternoon was spent wandering around narrow old Kyoto streets trying to avoid cars and pedestrians but not the historical buildings. The old Gion Geisha district is now a hopping restaurant area, which has helped to preserve the historical architecture. Between the hours of 5 and 7pm you just might catch a glimpse of a white faced lady with her stringed instrument under arm heading off to entertain.

Not feeling completely up to speed and with a trip to Hiroshima in the morning I was back to the hostel by about 4:30pm ready for a nap which turned into a full night’s rest.


Technology Note

One of the earliest interactive architectural forms of “alarm system” was the Nightingale floor of the Samurai period. Floorboards were nailed and clamped in such a way that when any pressure was placed on the flooring it would squeak. The sound emitted was very similar to a bird's call. This way, the guards of the Shogun could easily tell if anyone was attempting to secretly approach during the night. Interestingly, ninja were hired by the Shogun for protection, but were also hired by his enemies to attempt assassination.


Pattern Recognition

It’s a curse, but I notice things. For instance, the degree and frequency of pigeon toed females appears to be much higher in Japan. Of even greater interest is the phenomenon of a single foot turned somewhat drastically inward. The curiosity is that compared to the literally hundreds of examples of dual inward pointing feet, when a single foot turns inward there have been only left footed sightings. This made me want to be a geneticist for a day to determine what the source or link to the overabundance of inward sloping feet might be and if there is some genetic link to all the left footed people. Could this be a residual genetic response to generations of female foot binding?

Even more curious is the seeming abundance of snub thumbed people. This trait is again only witnessed in the left hand and is not mirrored in the right. I think the “n” is actually getting high enough to be statistically significant, as the incidence is now over 50. (I can hear Lisa N. laughing already…)

November 16, 2006

Kawaguchiko to Kyoto

Imagine the guttural thump of a mortar shell being dropped into its launch tube, followed in a calculated instant by the compression and decompression of acceleration. This is exactly what it felt like to have a Kansai Bullet Train sneak up behind me on the platform in Mishima. Each platform is well armed with steel rails to keep the casual strolling passenger from being sucked into a passing train.





Naturally, I was paying attention to track immediately in front of me, on which the train to Kyoto would arrive. Listening to my ipod and enjoying the warmth of the sun on a 50-degree Fahrenheit day, everything was loose and perfect.



When at first the thud hit me from behind my instinct was that something had just exploded which generated a reflexive knee bend and turn to survey evasive action. By the time my brain took in the scene and realized I had just missed being shot by a bullet train, the last car of the sixteen cabin train and then the hyper aerodynamic caboose / second engine blurred out of focus. Immediately, I paced the ten feet to the other side of the platform to try to catch a view of the departing vessel. No such luck. It was gone! Now that is fast!

I really wanted to catch a blurred picture or maybe an mpeg of a passing train, but since “through trains” are unannounced as they pass the terminal, it would literally be impossible to take a camera out, turn it on, and shoot before the train was just a memory. Maybe this is what NASCAR or the Indy Racing Series is like? If so, I definitely understand the rush.

When the Kyoto bound bullet train rolled into the station, it glided. The smooth transition from high speed to stop and then returning to its original pace was flawless. There was no jolt or hyper accelerating push into your seat but an almost imperceptible reostat of velocity.



Fuji glided into memory and and the old capital city of Kyoto was here before you knew it.

November 15, 2006

Mt. Fuji



Twenty miles plus and I didn’t even touch the snow or get above the tree line with a seven-hour effort. Since the official climbing season for Mt. Fuji closed at the end of August, there were no buses running to provide a higher altitude starting point. So, leaving from town I started my ascent. After climbing on a road for four hours I came to a serious road gate, spikes and all, which definitely made the point that the road was closed for the season. Disappointed, I began the descent and not a moment too soon.





The temperature was in the upper 30’s and with wind chill was down right freezing. After making the turn to come back down the mountain my core temperature plummeted. It was miserable with the chill being so deep that the veins in my arms hurt. With the emotional letdown of having to turn around, my body really began to complain in the form of aching feet and knees. Pavement is an awful thing on which to wear hiking boots. I immediately began to drink lots of water and down some calories to get the inner furnace stoked again. Every ten minutes or so another clothing layer was added. The challenge was being chilled to the bone, yet still sweating. The gradual approach to increasing thermal layers eventually paid off.



Hopefully, this was all good learning for later alpine adventures on Everest in January and then later Kilimanjaro. The primary take away was to make sure that all skin surfaces are covered, even when a merino t-shirt seems to be the perfect layer. The wind was stealing warmth from my arms while the core was pumping out heat on the ascent, however, after making the turn the reduced effort did not produce as much energy and the pre-chilled extremities drug the core temperature down aggressively.

I had to laugh at myself, because the verse about “the voice of one crying in the wilderness” came to mind. Instead of the verbatim, after taking a picture it came to me that this is “the face” of one crying in the wilderness. Sorry, no tears, but the pain was easily discernable. Haaa…

November 14, 2006

Tokyo to Kawaguchiko

After having the cursory glance at Tokyo, I really had the urge to get out into the country and that meant Mt. Fuji. The helpful African guy working at the hostel front desk in Tokyo said that the mountain would be closed to hiking. After being shut out of hiking the Milford Track in New Zealand, I simply couldn’t take this on blind faith to be true. So I jumped on a train, actually three different trains, and am now nicely settled in a traditional Japanese hotel room at the base of Mt. Fuji.

The room experience should be really interesting. There is a little tea table in the center (I am enjoying some hot green tea right now) and that is it.



The floor has traditional matting but it is by no means soft. In a shelved area is something resembling a thick comforter, that hopefully is the mattress of sorts. I am grateful to have my camping gear along. If all else fails, the Thermo-Rest backpacking pad will make an appearance and all will be well.



I experienced jovial welcoming behavior from both ends of the spectrum today. Before leaving Tokyo I stopped into the neighborhood noodle shop for a bowl. Sitting at the counter, I had the destiny of eating right next to a happy drunk (mind you this is 10:00am). He was all smiles and hick-ups. I didn’t know people actually did that. After finally connecting, in recognition of the name “Ichiro”, he launched into speaking a mile a minute. The entire conversation was in Japanese. I just kept smiling and nodding, which amused the cooks. After a well paced ingestion of noodles, broth, veggies and rice I thanked everyone and was more than ready to hit the road or in this case rails.

The other welcoming experience was on the train, after making a transfer to a particularly busy rail car. A sweet Japanese grandmother type figure made room in the seat next to her and I sat down. Again, no English was spoken, as she glowed and loved chatting with me. I showed her my ticket and she dug into her purse to find a small scrap of paper and a pencil. She then drew what looked like a circle with squiggly lines rising perpendicular to the surface. (After arriving at Kawaguchiko the tourist signs pointed out the locations of natural hot springs utilizing the same symbol.) Later in the trip she fell asleep so I thought it would not be rude to listen to my ipod. Staring out the window across the aisle from our seat I felt a nudge in my left shoulder. She wanted to share a piece of hard wrapped candy with me. She made my day, so we took a picture.



A nice recognition in Japan is an apparent respect for recording their physical history. It was great to run across this old train, that used to run the Fuji route, preserved next to the station.