JAPAN WITH JET

We left Shodoshima early this morning, boarding another ferry, skirting around the south coast and heading west to Teshima.

This is the second and briefest stop (just half a day) on our island hopping trip.

After disembarking we jump on a bus and cross the island to get to what I wanted to call the island's most famous site.... but I have just discovered that actually the island is most famous for something I wasn't even aware of during our visit. Apparently the island is most famous for being the stage of one of the biggest ever industrial waste scandals. Over a period of time, up until the early 90s almost 600.000 tons of waste were illegally dumped on the island

"Teshima Residents took Kagawa Prefecture to court over the waste scandal and made the prefecture take responsibility for correctly processing and clearing the waste from the island. Since 2003, the waste has been transported to nearby Naoshima and processed in one of the most modern facilities in the country. The residents group offers guided tours of the site and of the island in Japanese."

As I say, at the time I knew nothing about that, but it does kind of explain some odd, industrial looking, seemingly abandoned buildings we could see in the distance. Anyway, oblivious to this fraught past, what we came to see was the island's second most famous point, it's UFO crash site. (See bottom right below).

OK, so it not an actual UFO crash site, it an art facility that looks like a UFO crash site from the outside.

When I say 'art facility' that's what I mean as well, it's not a gallery. The structure itself is the art. Primarily it's an experiment in form and space, but learning about the waste scandal certainly lends a bit of back story to this place that helps make a bit more sense of it's abstract aesthetic. After enduring such a massive and prolonged assault on the local environment the idea of a work of art to re-affirm the possibility of a finding a balance, and harmony, between man and nature must have appealed to the local residents.

The shell like body of the building is punctured with two wide holes that frame ever-changing planes of sky, forest and sea. They also open the whole to the elements allowing the seasons, weather and the facility to influence each other. If that didn't make the structure fragile and permeable enough, the floor is also peppered with small holes that birth (and consume) a network of small rivlets, and pools of water that criss cross the whole area inside.

As photography isn't allowed on site, I've had to scavenge photos from around the net to put together a collage that gives you a sense of the place.
Also you can read a fuller article about the facility by clicking here if you want.

Teshima isn't the only local island to dabble in the world of art though. In fact it's something of a local trend in the area, and several of the Seto Inland Sea islands play host to art in one form or another. It's a good way of drawing visitors to the islands, and (truth be told) it's why we are here too. Checking out some of the best art installations on the islands is actually the main goal of this trip. Without a doubt the biggest collection of art to be found here is housed on Naoshima, and that's our next stop.

We'll be spending two nights on Naoshima, and our transport of choice...

... bikes. Noashima is the perfect size for cycling around, and it's a great way of hitting all the various galleries and enjoying the scenery at the same time. As you can see on the road sign below there are three main galleries on the island, however there are also a lot of smaller art installations and incidental art scattered around; such as the giant red and yellow squashes which have almost become the icons of the island.

On our first day we only had the time to visit the Benesse House gallery. To get there it was a nice run along the coast, passing through a sculpture park full of simple, brightly coloured animals. Then a short steep hill climb to reach the gallery itself, which sits on a atop a small peninsula overlooking the sea.

Again the photography was mostly off limits in the gallery, though I managed to work around this in a few places by standing outside and taking photos through open doors into the gallery... so I wasn't in the gallery taking pictures... it's a grey area :-)

The exhibits were all modern art and tended towards abstraction, often imposing order and form onto naturally chaotic and random objects; for example see the circle made of stone chunks below. There is something very Japanese about this aesthetic sense that can also be seen in raked lines of a zen gravel garden, the careful placement of flowers in the art of ikebana (flower arranging) or trimmed perfection of a bonsai tree.

By the time we left Benesse House it was already getting dusky and we had to cycle back to our accommodation, we made one brief stop by the harbour to snap some photos inside the red squash (and getting some nice ghosting effects with the long exposure). Then it was time to call it a night.

The next day, we wanted to see the other two main galleries (The Chichu art museum and the Lee Ufan gallery) and also check out some of the smaller sites. I able to take any photo, at either the Chichu or Lee Ufan galleries. Stylistically though they were very similar to Benesse house, all three place being mostly built from large smooth white slabs, and the style of art also continued in the abstract aesthetic vein.

Despite not being able to take my own photos I did find this collage of photos from the Chichu museum that give a good overall impression of the place. In the top right picture you can see how most of the museum is actually underground with 'skylights' carved into the earth to allow natural light into various parts of the gallery.

It is worth saying that that touring these islands can soon get quite expansive, as each of the main art sites is charged for separately (though you can get a 'passport' ticket that covers all of the smaller sites). With each site (and the 'passport') costing around 1'000 yen per person it soon adds up, so if you do find yourself here and running low on cash, or short of time, I can say without a doubt that the Lee Ufan Museum is the one to skip. It is the smallest and least impressive by quite a margin.

Anyway, one thing I could take pictures of was the water garden near the Chichu museum. A series of Lilly ponds, modelled on Monet's water garden in France, line the road side. This is obviously in honour of the fact that the museum, in addition to it's modern art collection, is home to three huge Monet canvases. According to the museum's website, 'The rationale behind Chichu Garden is one where, through physical experience, it is believed one's understanding and appreciation of Claude Monet's work can be deepened'.

Again, this next picture isn't mine, but it shows the room where Monet's pictures are displayed, and you can see how (whilst the roof isn't totally open) the sunlight is bounced off the white walls to provide natural light inside the room.

As I already mentioned in addition to the main galleries there are also a number of smaller installations, called 'art houses' scattered around the island. These smaller sites were each the work of a different artist and varied wildly in terms of style and content; from very formal displays of traditional Japanese crafts to much more personal and quirky pieces. Here are couple of my favourites.

At first glance this shrine (above) looks no different to thousands of others you can see anywhere around Japan. However, take a closer look at the steps leading down to the ground - they are made of massive blocks of glass and they don't stop when they hit the floor (Below, right hand side). To really appreciate this place you have to follow a small path that winds down the behind the shrine, and then enter a narrow passage that cuts under it. There you'll find those same glass steps cutting down into a world that was invisible from above, and where, when you decided to leave, the passage you came in by now leads out to a flare of light that blooms at it's mouth.

The beauty of this place is that it uses it's location to do something that it couldn't do in a gallery. The spiritual nature of the shrine naturally shapes the way you think about the experience of moving between these various, discrete yet connected, spaces. There is something very Buddhist about passing from the plain above, to the plain below, and then being 'reborn' into the light as you leave the dark.

The left hand side of the collage (below) is an old dentist clinic that has experienced an id explosion, there isn't any apparent rhyme or reason to why the artist has filled it with the things they have, but it's interesting to walk around inside someone else's head-space made real for a while.

Between visiting the various art sites we were of course still cycling around the island and enjoying the natural beauty of the place as well. The weather was glorious, and still warm enough for swimming in the sea. As the day wore on, and the sun began to set, we were treated to some truly wonderful sea views.

We still had one more night on Naoshima, but we'd be leaving early tomorrow the last leg of our journey. So what better way to spend the evening than relaxing with a soak at the local spa. So, ladies and gentlemen, I7ll leave you with the final art site of our from Naoshima tour - the rather funky local bath house.

All together now - 'Ferry cross the Mersey Seto inland sea'.

Doesn't quite have the same ring to it does it. Still that's how we'll be spending the next few days, touring some of the islands of the inland sea via a series of ferry crossings. The inlands sea comprises of the stretch of water that separates the main Japanese island, Honshuu, from the smaller Shikoku.

I've been to Shikoku several times (including the last entry's aborted whale watching attempt in Kochi Ken), and usually we just cross the inland sea quickly via one of the three bridges that connect Honshuu and Shikoku. Travelling by ferry certainly gives you a different perspective though, suddenly the sea seems much wider and more significant, also many of the small islands that you spot from the bridge are more clearly defined communities that depend on these ferry links to connect them to the main land. With a clear blue sky above, and smooth clam waters beneath, ferry is also a quite relaxing way to travel.



Our first port of call is Shodoshima, and (at 153km2 and boasting a population of about 30'000 people) it's also the biggest of the islands we'll be visiting during the trip.



Travelling takes up most of the first day, but we do have time to do a bit of walking around near our hotel after we arrive. So we get to see what is perhaps Shodoshima's biggest claim to fame. Behold!!!



While it might look like an unimpressively narrow canal it is actually called the Dobuchi Strait. At it's narrowest point it is only 9.93m wide, which makes it officially 'The world's narrowest strait'. It runs for about 2.5km, and totally separates Maejima and Shodoshima's main island. Fascinating eh! Luckily that isn't all there is to see on the island.

As we've left the car behind on the mainland we have to find other ways of exploring the islands. With that in mind we've decided to go full tourist for our first full day, and take a bus tour around the island.

The first place they take us is to the monkey park right up in the mountains at the centre of the island. Now, I see monkeys around where I live quite often during certain times of the year, and this is the third monkey park I've visited - the sheer number of monkeys here and how f***ed up some of them were was quite spectacular though. I guess it comes from being an island population with no predators and no where else to go, they just hang out in one big raggedy gang; or two big raggedy troops to be more accurate. Apparently there are two distinct troops, each with their own bosses leading them, living on the mountain.

Both troops total around 500 monkeys of all ages, sizes and states. Life in the wild has really left it's mark on some of the older monkeys, and some of them look pretty messed up now. These grizzled veterans really caught my attention, they've got so much character and history in their scars I could have spent the whole day taking portrait pictures of them. However, being a bus tour we're on a schedule so I have to content myself with a few quick snaps - but just check out the old couple on the bottom right of this collage and you'll see what I mean.



Before leaving the mountains we also drove over to a popular lookout point to take in the views and have a spot of lunch.



If you look carefully in the centre of the panorama below you might be able to make out a metal hoop next to the bushes. This was the Shodoshima version of a wishing well. For a small fee you could buy some charms (basically small plates made of clay with lucky phrases painted on them), then you make a wish try and skim the charms, Frisbee like, through this hoop. The ever watchful Gods, impressed with your charm flinging dexterity, then have no choice but to indulge your whim. While we were there many people tried, but only one person managed it - and that was Haru!



After lunch we were given the choice of riding down on the coach, or of taking the cable car down the gorge and rejoining the coach at the bottom. We opted for the cable car :-) The gorge itself cuts into Mount Hoshigajo (817 metres high), carving out steep cliffs and rock walls that the cable car drops down between as it descends. Quite a ride, and one that I'd love to try in Autumn above the red leaves.



Coming down out of the mountains on a long snaking road we make our way back towards the coast and our next stop is this picturesque village. This was a good chance to try out some of the special flavours of icecream sold locally, soy-sauce ice cream anybody? (Actually, much nicer than it sounds).



To be honest though, this isn't even a real village, it's a movie theme park. Hence an abundance of wonderfully recreated posters for classic Japanese movies. My favourite, of course was the original Godzilla - to paraphrase Nicolas Cage in the woeful 'Wicker Man' remake; 'Aaagh the flames, not the flames! Aaagghhh!! My eyes, my eyes!'



The whole village was actually built as a movie set originally. There are two versions of the movie 'Twenty-four eyes', one made in 1954, and another made in 1987. This was the set built for the 1987 version. The story is about a schoolteacher named Ōishi who lives on Shōdoshima during the rise (and fall) of Japanese ultra-nationalism during the Shōwa period. The tale starts in 1928 with the teacher's first class of 1st grade students and follows her through to 1946, in particular it shows, how as a result of that nationalism, many of the children she teaches are called away to fight and die.



Despite its apparent popularity I'd never heard of this movie until I came here and Haru explained the story to me, I really feel I should watch it now though.

We still have one more stop on our bus tour to go, and that's the 'Olive park'. Shodoushima was the first place in Japan to attempt the cultivation of Olives was attempted, fortunately the mild climate suited them and they thrived. Today, the island is Japan's top Olive oil producer.
The groves with their (purely decorative) windmill were a nice place for a stroll on a sunny afternoon, but I got a weird feeling of deju-vu. Then it hit me, it was like taking a walk through the 'Olive Coast' golf course from 'Everybody's Golf' on the PSP.



The gift shop is of course packed with all kinds of products made from Olives, from hand cream to chocolate, with lots of free samples. So blue skies, scarred simians and free chocolate - plus not a single typhoon in sight - this trip is certainly off to a better start than our last one :-)

Next time, we get artistic with a brief stop at Teshima and a longer stay on Naoshima, culture capital of the Inland Sea.

Be warned the top part of this entry is very text heavy (with borderline rants on the topics of typhoons, hermit crab keeping and whaling), but don't worry I won't be offended if you just skip down to the pretty animal pictures at the bottom - to be honest I won't even know you've done it.

Still here? Then let's talk a bit about typhoons.

It seems an almost constant source of surprise for Japanese people to learn that we simply don't have typhoons in the UK. Sure we have strong winds that topple chimneys and send trees crashing through greenhouses (much to the delight of regional news shows who routinely leap on this kind of meteorological calamity). However, we don't have typhoons.

Japan has typhoons, in all the time I've worked here there has never once been a snow day at the school (despite winter weather that would have shut down schools in other countries), but kids have been excused from coming to school due to typhoon warnings a few times; and when I say the kids, I mean the kids - I still had to cycle to work in the torrential rain and then sit there doing nothing all day because there were no kids.

This isn't the only reason I don't like typhoons, it's more the fact that they seem to have something personal against me. Having recently checked one point of my list off things to do while I'm in Japan (with a visit to Kiso valley; see previous entry), I was now determined to set my sights on bigger fish - whales to be exact.

Whale watching has been something I've wanted to do for a long time now, and having looked into it I'd found a couple of good spots in Japan. The nearest place being Kochi Ken on the south coast of Shikoku. So Haru and I booked time off work, hotels and spots on a boat... then watched in dismay as the day drew closer and so did a big typhoon - heading directly for Kochi Ken.

The whale watching company confirmed it wouldn't be possible to go out on the day we booked and cancelled the booking. So we did some quick back peddling - I cancelled my time off work, the timely death of a non-existent relative got us off the hook with the hotel reservation without paying anything. Then, we set about re-planning and booking everything again. The typhoon passed and we were on track - until another typhoon came in on exactly the same course to co-coincide with our new plans....

Well - it wasn't possible to back-out again, so despite the whale watching being cancelled again and leaving us with no real reason to go we went ahead with a trip to Kochi Ken. Luckily, the typhoon didn't really have any visible effect on the main land (it was the waves it was kicking up that got the boat cancelled), and the weather was fine as we made the 6 hour drive down.

I've got quite a soft spot for Japanese road sign graphics, and I often try to snap pictures of the road signs as we zip past. In particular I like the animal crossing warning signs, and Shikoku has some great ones... however, snapping them at speed isn't easy. I really think photographic frustrations such as this were a big drive in me deciding to upgrade my camera recently. I still have quite a bit more to blog about 2012, but when I get to 2013 I assure you that you'll see a leap in the quality of the photography on this blog :-)

The main city of Kochi Ken is also called Kochi, and we spent our first afternoon wandering around the streets and markets. One of the towns most famous points, Hariyama bridge, turned out to be be very small, unimpressive and quite out of place on an otherwise modern street. For me by far the most interesting things was a stall on a street market selling hermit crabs, I'd been thinking about getting some crabs to keep for a while so on the last day we went and bought five to take home.

Now this was about eight months ago, and I regret to say that of that original five only two are still alive. Two died at beginning of winter as I simply wasn't prepared to keep the environment to their liking when the weather changed. Some frenzied research made me realize that I wasn't keeping the atmosphere moist enough for them or providing for all their needs. I improved their diet and water supplies (separate bowls for fresh and salt water). I also got a temperature and humidity gauge, a suitable heater and added some extra plastic sheeting inside the tank lid to control their environmental conditions more. The remaining three really thrived then, until last week when I disturbed one of them while he was buried in the sand moulting, the shock of this caused him to abandon his shell whilst still in a semi-soft state. At the time I noticed this I was just about to leave town for a five day trip, and I totally panicked. Not knowing what to do, and not having time to research the problem, I handled what needn't have been a really serious situation badly and unfortunately when I got back from the trip yesterday that crab had also died; leading to a major guilt trip on my part.

Now, there are a couple of reasons I'm writing about this in detail. Firstly, it's fresh in my mind, and both Haru and I are really sad about loosing another one. However, I've also learnt a lot from these experiences, and have become a better crab owner through continued research. I plan to buy some more crabs from a good pet store in the summer, and improve the tank even more. They are really interesting creatures, we've really enjoyed keeping them, and I hope other potential owners can learn from my mistakes. That's the second reason I'm writing this. Hermit crabs are sold as easy pets for kids, less smelly versions of hamsters. However, if you don't want your pet to suffer and die they actually have very specific needs. You do need to research how to keep them, and to be sure that you can meet those needs before you buy them. Although, I've really done my best to make up for the mistakes I made and to learn from them, I've always been playing catch up - researching problems only when they came up rather than having knowledge in advance and being prepared - I regret that and I realize that it's a direct result of having made an impulse buy from a non-reputable seller. There is even a distinct chance that the crabs I bought are a protected variety that shouldn't have been sold in the first place; another good reason to not buy from places like market stalls. Anyway, I've already talked about this too much, so let's move on. However, if anybody is interested in keeping hermit crabs and has any questions I've be happy to answer them if I can, and point you in the direction of some of the better resources I've found that really helped me.

Back in Kochi Ken, our next stopping point was the castle. Whilst it isn't anything drastically different to the other Japanese castles I've visited, it is a nice example of pre-restoration design work and also quite lucky to be standing intact following heavy bombing of the city in WW2.

"Kōchi was selected as a target by the United States' XXI Bomber Command because of the city's status as a prefectural capital, and the fact that it was a centre for industry and commercial trade. On July 3, 1945 at 6:22 PM (JST) 129 Aircraft took off to bomb Kōchi. 1060 tons of incendiary bombs were dropped on Kōchi, destroying 48% of the built up areas of the city."

Considering that it's large size and hilltop location it is quite incredible that it wasn't seriously damaged.

This visit was also the closest I got to any whale watching during the trip, as the castle had an exhibition about whales in the main building. However, it wasn't about the more eco-friendly tourist trade building up around the passive observation of them, it was more about the old (and pretty brutal) hunting techniques used to catch the whales.

Japan's relationship with animals is very strange. There is a distinct preference for cute things linked to a disturbing trend towards the anthropomorphising animals. Of course his can be done by dressing animals up and behaviour training, but it's usually done in a more indirect way via the use of comedy sound effects, dubbing and/or subtitles showing the animals 'thoughts' during TV shows to make the their reactions seem more comic and human.

So, while in the UK we get the wonderful documentaries of David Attenborough to educate, inform and delight us, one of Japan's most popular animal themed shows, "Tensai! Shimura Dōbutsuen" (guilty of all the above mentioned tactics) is filmed in front of a live studio audience with the main focus on making animals seem as cute and unthreatening as possible. The bigger eyed, fluffier and more playful the creature the better, of course this is all presented by uninformed variety show celebs, and there is at least one basket of puppies per episode.

In short, animals are presented as objects to be 'Oooed' and 'Aaahred' at, but it's all very surface with very little sense of real connection or responsibility. The result is that Japanese people have a deeply fractured relationship with animals, they'll pay a small fortune for a pedigree dog to carry around in their designer bag, but protest about the opening of an animal shelter near their home (in my town). This disconnect enables these same people to then walk into a zoo or aquarium and comment on how cute, and delicious, certain exhibits look in almost the same breath (Yes, I've heard comments like that several times, mostly in aquariums).

So it shouldn't come as any surprise then that Japanese people simply don't get why whaling is so objectionable to many people, in fact more accurately most Japanese don't even realise it is a controversial point. In my time here whale meat has been served for school lunch twice; meat which, no doubt, arrived via the 'whaling for scientific research' loophole that Japan blatantly exploits. The only reaction from my colleagues was along the lines of 'Oh, whale meat, we don't have that often now do we, I wonder why? We used to have it all the time when I was at school'. I thought about explaining why, and did roughly sketch out how Japan's hunting of whales is mostly 'frowned on' internationally; the main reaction was surprise and defensiveness. Consuming nothing but their own national media they have have almost no idea how Japan's whaling is perceived abroad. Powerful proponents of whaling within Japan have been very sucessful in aligning the issue in the minds of the people with a concept of Japanese identity, so what we might see as anti-whaling attitudes elsewhere are seen more as directly anti-Japanese attacks here. Most Japanese people are not, contrary to what some people might think, anti-whale fanatics. Sadly they are with very little personal thought, accepting, and defending, a policy decided by a few.

Anyway, to counter balance the text heavy top half of this entry, and to prove that Japanese people can also be very nice to animals, let's have some photos from Noichi Zoo. A very nice wildlife park built in the hills outside Kochi where we decided to fill the time that should have been spent whale watching. As I visit a lot of zoos I try to focus my photos on animals or behaviour that I haven't seen too much else where, in Noichi Zoo the highlights were a very nice Lemur island environment that was a pleasure to watch, a really good tropical house and their personalised toilet paper!

So whilst we did get to see a castle and a nice zoo, meaning that the trip was not a complete disaster, I'm not sure that Plan B in Kochi really justified the long road trip needed to get there - damn typhoons!

After we got back things at my school where just gearing up for the annual kayaking trip across the lake, which I'll pass over with just a single photo collage this year as it was my fourth time participating in this event. This year we were blessed with blue skies and calm waters most of the way as you can see.

I did get to try out a fun, new water sport this year though, water bugging on the Seta river. Water bugging is a little like riding down the river on a rubber ring, only with more control. Your 'bug' is more like a horseshoe than a ring, so you can dangle your legs in the water and kick with your fins. You also wear webbed gloves that convert your hands into an extra pair of paddles making it easy to move around.

We got some basic training on the river bank, followed by some exercises in the water before we got to ride down two sets of rapids. After a couple of hours in the water we reached the end of our run, and finally we wrapped it up with some big jumps off the rocks into the water.

Our next trip was a spent island hopping around the inland sea in late September. A trip so epic it's going to make up the next three blog entries to come!

I remember reading about the Kiso valley walking trail when I first came to Japan. Through a lot of Japan's history the 60km long valley has been an important route for travel and trade. In particular during the Middle ages it was a key trade and postal route with eleven post stations set up along its length. Walking this old route was near the top of my list of things to do in Japan for a long time. However, for various reasons I never actually made it there until now. This summer Haru and I went for a day of walking along a short stretch of the route running between Magome and Tsumago.

Our starting point was the village of Magome, a beautiful place the centre of which is a stone paved street running straight up the hillside. A great effort has been made to hide the more obvious signs of modernity; so there is no car access for non-residents and no telegraph poles or overhead power lines spoiling the ambiance. In short the place has been preserved as much as possible, and really feels like a living museum piece as a result.

The hiking trail proper starts where the village ends at the tops of the hill. The stretch we are going to walk is only about 8km, but we're planning to take it slow, and take a few diversions along the way. The scenery below was a verdant sea of wooded hills under a blue sky, needless to say the views were amazing.

After a couple of kilometres (and a very nice ice cream) we came to the site of one of the old post stations. The original wooden building is still there and have been converted into a tea shop. An old tree spreads it's branches over the path directly in front of the main door, offering a shady place to rest and consult the map. The proprietor came out and chatted to us for a bit, and asked me to sign his guest book. He obviously took great pleasure in all the international visitors that came past his tea house, and proudly showed off signatures of visitors from all around the world. He also told us that in the past Japan had been much more divided than it is now, with the current prefectures often being split into several smaller regions. This had been the border between two such regions. This hadn't been just a post station, it had been passport control also. Without the correct papers you couldn't go past this point. All that remains of the border now is a symbolic wooden gateway.

Just after we passed through that gateway and began to cross a small wooden bridge beyond it, there was a soft thud as something dropped right in front of Haru. Looking closer it was one of the biggest, greenest and hairiest caterpillars that I've even seen. Looking up, we saw that the branches overhead were full of them munching on the leaves and occasionally falling down. Now wanting to get one down the neck we hurried on.

Caterpillars were by no means the worst things lurking in the woods though. Tsumago had several warning signs that hikers should "Be Bear Aware!" and along the way there were several bear bell stations; apparently bears can be deterred by the clanging sound of a bell. I even bought my own personal bear bell as a souvenir of the trip. I'm half happy, half disappointed, to say we didn't see any bears along the way though.

After a while the woodland path joined the main road at the point where we crossed the prefecture line, going from Gifu prefecture into Nagano prefecture. Somewhere around here we made a short detour to visit the local waterfalls. To reach them we had to make our way down a steep winding path, but we were rewarded with a fine misty spray coming off the falls to cool us down again.

The falls were just one example of the many varied types of terrain you can see along the way. There's also the small villages that dot the route, the woods (sometimes ceder, sometimes pine) already tinged with autumnal reds sometimes opening up onto rolling vistas of more distant hills and valleys or to the more immediate susurration of pre-harvest rice fields, full and heavy, in the breeze.

Sometimes it was difficult to decide if a place was a village or not. Like this tiny place, which seemed to be build around a trout farm. Does such a small, loose collection of buildings on a dirt road constitute a village?? The English village I grew up in as a kid was so small it didn't have a shop, but it had a pub, a phone box and bus stop at least, making it a veritable metropolitan centre by comparison.

Finally we reached the next postal station, and our goal, Tsumago. Much like our starting point this village boasts a well preserved main street lined with buildings mostly dating from the mid 18th century. According to wikipedia the main drive to restore the town (which had been on the decline due to being bypassed by local rail lines) came in the late 1960s.

"In 1968, local residents began an effort to restore historical sites and structures within the town. By 1971, some 20 houses had been restored, and a charter was agreed to the effect that no place in Tsumago should be "sold, hired out, or destroyed". In 1976, the town was designated by the Japanese government as a Nationally-designated Architectural Preservation Site. Despite its historical appearance, however, Tsumago is fully inhabited, though with tourist shops as the town's main business."

One of the nicest items sold at those shops are examples of a local traditional craft - horses handmade from dried woven plant stems; a bit like English traditional corn dollies. These horses serve as a symbol of the area and appear in many forms. Mostly small in size, they actually come in all sizes, including one or two impressive life size examples. We bought a small pair to take back home, which now graze on the fresh pastures of our bookcase.

Luckily, the popularity of the route means that there is a regular bus service to whisk you back to Magome from Tsumago and avoid a long walk back. We arrived with enough time for a relaxed stroll around and managed to get on a bus just before the it started raining.

It may have taken me a long time to get to Kiso valley, but it was worth the wait I feel. The walk is enjoyable and suitable for almost any level of physical ability, I certainly wouldn't consider it much of a challenge and you can take it at a nice relaxed pace. As i said before, the scenery is not only pretty, but surprisingly varied too; blending nature and history along the way. Highly recommended for a pleasant day out.

Last year a new aquarium opened in Kyoto, the biggest non-costal aquarium in Japan I believe (though most of Japan is costal so that's not saying too much). Anyway, I decided to wait until the initial wave of interest (and associated crowds) had died down before going to check it out.

However, I mis-judged it and on the day Haru and I went the place was still heaving with visitors, and we decided not to bother. So we found ourselves in Kyoto's Umekoji park with no real plan, and no real idea what else there was around there.

Well, as it turns out there are two other interesing things in Umekoji park apart from the aquarium. Firstly, there's a Japanese style garden sperated off from the large public park. So we paid and went in for a look around, and while it's not too big it is nice with blend of older and more modern Japanese styles.

While we were wandering around the park though we heard the distinct sound of steam trains nearby. Sure enough, Umekoji park is also home to Kyoto's steam locomotive museum - which I didn't even know existed.

The main reason for putting the museum here is that the building was actually the original Nijo train station. The station building itself is the oldest wooden station building in Japan, and was in service from 1904 to 1997.

The rest of the buildings are mostly arrayed around the engine turn table behind the station building.

These are mainly the train sheds that house the museums collection of 17 locomotives, 6 of which still run and can be taken out onto a short stretch of private line behind the park (which is why we could hear steam trains from the park).

Now, I not a train geek as such, but as I made clear last time (while waxing lyrical about Jules Verne) I do like the the steam-punk genre, and aesthetics of steam trains appeals to me. I can't help but envision H.G.Well time machine style devices when confronted with so many pistions, gears and brass gauges.

Of course we took the chance to ride the train as well, though unless you've never been on a steam train before I wouldn't say it's essential. The track is very short and not very scenic, the UK still has a few really nice steam lines running (such as the one Nik and rode in Wales) and this just couldn't compare.

To be honest just watching the trains is probably more of a thrill, that thick plume of smoke coiling up and the shrill of the whistle is just so evocative of a time that has passed. For both of us it was also interesting watching the engineers clearing out the old coals from the furnace and refilling the water tank, before returning the train to the shed.

One lingering inpression I was left with was one of how much more physical the world used to be, corporeal, real, hands on as opposed to virtual and touch screen as it is now. There's a solidity to those engines. A reality to the relationship between them, their drivers and engineers that's hard to convey. A sense of connectedness that I often only feel when I'm looking at bygone ways and processes.

When I was living in Slovakia one of the main clients of the language school I worked in was a local steel mill. I visted the mill many times to teach classes, but I never got even a shadow of the feeling I got when I once saw a real blacksmith work a single piece of red hot steel with tongues and a hammer. I don't know what, if anything, that means. It's just a feeling that something has been lost - but I'm not sure it ever even existed in my lifetime.

Well, I'll leave this on that note and a few extra photos in sepia for that old world feel.

Next time, I'll be writing up our walking trip in the beautiful Kiso valley.