2011 is starting out on a great note for this fledgling travel blogger wannabe.
In about three weeks from now, I get the chance to see Japan blanketed in snow. And where better to see the whitest of white landscapes than in Sapporo, Hokkaido?
I am bracing myself for temperatures of -4deg Celcius! And lots of fresh seafood from the icy northern waters, steamy hot onsen in the white hush of winter and a chance or two to take a tumble down a ski slope! I will be in the company of other journalists, and once more, travelling solo sans the family.
Thus far I've seen Japan in her glorious crimson hues of autumn, in the verdant green of late spring and now's my chance to see her clad in white - just before my next date with her in spring where KH and I will see the transient yet delicately pale hues of sakura in full bloom.
I'm looking forward to this! I hope 2011 will be a year when my passport gets filled up and my bags remain constantly packed. Japan aside, we are already logging in dates in 2011's calendar for another Tioman reunion, or possibly Brisbane when Cait goes over for gym training. We'll see.
And as usual, I will be writing, logging in my experiences (slowly but surely - yes I'll get there!) in these pages.
Summer colours of Tioman.
If I could recite the colours of June, they would be for me: ochre, azure, teal, aquamarine, mauve, emerald, sand. Then again, this was in Tioman, where it is presumably summer year-round. But yet, when the tropical squall hits and steel grey skies cloud overhead, the colours of summer vanish, replaced by white tip waves and a grey forbidding sea. The lightness fades into a heavy dull tones.
Writing about this now in December, Tioman seems like a lifetime away. But we had such a good time there that unanimously, we all decided that we would be back next year.
I had hesitated for years about going to Tioman. I was worried I could not take the 2hour ferry ride from Mersing since I was so prone to motion sickness. But Rita's stories were too persuasive and we were also looking for something different beyond the Malacca-KL route, so it seemed like a good time to try Tioman.
We paid about $800+ for two beachside doubles at the Paya Beach Resort which included the return ferry fare as well. Rita had opted to take the bus from Singapore but we opted to drive from Malacca down to Mersing, cutting across Johor's midsection via the hilly rubber plantations and pineapple groves of the Kluang district.
The drive itself was something new since this would be our first time but it proved surprisingly easy - just take the NS Highway from Malacca towards JB, turn off at Kluang and go straight (only one road) towards the east coast. The ride was picturesque and curvy at times, bumpy too. Traffic was light except for the occasional lorry. Neat orderly rows of rubber and pineapple stretch into the horizon.
We arrived at Mersing and spent the night at the Hotel Havanita, just off the main Mersing-JB road. The family suite was generously sized with a sitting area and two bed rooms with a smallish chaise-lounge which Owain took. It stormed really badly the whole night which left us apprehensive for the boat ride the next day but luckily, the next morning was clear and sunny!
I dosed myself with anti-sickness meds before the ferry ride. But the ferry left later than expected - almost an hour late! The ride to Tioman did not feel very long and along the way we passed some pretty small islands with a glimpse of of some tantalising white sand. The ferry stopped at Pulau Rawa about half an hour into the journey. We loved the clear blue waters and the little chalets perched on rocks but later found out that these were so expensive that they did not seem worth the money when we had had such a good experience at Paya Beach.
We finally arrived at Tioman around 2pm only to find the Tans already there and lounging around at the Sunrise Cafe. Lest you think this is a swanky place, it really is just a wooden warung just next to the jetty and along Paya Beach's main and only drag. But with cheap and good food, who cares! It really fits the laidback island atmosphere to a T and we have several fond memories of eating there. The kids lived on the Ramly burgers for practically the whole trip and Owain loved the chicken Maggi soup noodles. I tried to tell him these were no different from the instant noodles we get at home but he insisted these were better! Must be the salty sea air!
There was a bit of a commotion when we checked in though - the Front Desk did not have enough rooms for us. Seems like some overbooking was going on. They could only give us one of the beachfront rooms instead of the two that we booked. There was a deluxe suite available and we insisted they upgrade us to this one. Moral of the story - come in on the earliest ferry to secure your room, even if you already have a booking.
Deluxe suite was great - king-sized bed, king-sized bed/sofa in the living room, big jacuzzi and outdoor shower - all elicited wows from us. Until we realised there was a distinct smell of sewage coming in from somewhere nearby.
But that detail didn't bother us because our time was mostly spent outdoors in the water or on the beach. From this point on, the hours just rush past in a blue-green-ochre blur.
This is a tiny island within wading distance of the resort's beach. There was a sliver of white sand beach. The waters were crystal clear but the barnacle-encrusted rocks were a hazard and the cuts and grazes on the kids were testimony to this. Just a little offshore was the fast-fading remnants of a once colourful coral garden. While some still maintained their colour, most were already bleached. Sadly, it seems this is the situation all around Tioman, the island being just another victim of the relentless tide of global warming and warmer seas.
Island sunsets are often memorable. The ones on Tioman were no exception. Interestingly enough I thought the colours were muted instead of showy - no bright blazing orange balls, just a dull bronze that slowly sank into the sea, leaving a bronzed trail over water.
Dinner was sea food cooked in various ways, all of them palatable. Was the food really good? Or was it the company, the pink glow on the faces of the children amid the chatter of friends that made it so? We don't really care. Dessert was the incredibly cheap stick of Magnum ice-cream from the mini-mart down the lane, made even sweeter by the fact this was RM4 instead of SGD$4! Hanging out with ice-cream and friends, peering into the darkness of the sea and knowing the next day was another to be filled by more sun and sea... that was a really good feeling.
Morning belonged to the beach. Later in the afternoon, as the sky turned a bit grey with the promise of rain, we headed inland to the waterfalls and a lovely private pool carved out of rock. We had to cut through another smaller resort to get there, this was a more budget, laidback version of the Paya Beach.
You certainly don't see laundry lines like these anymore. They really brought back nice memories of a different, slower pace and time.
A short trek over a murky creek, upslope on a gentle jungle trail and there it was. The pool could fit us all in - 10 kids and 4 adults from both the Tan and Chong broods and another family, friends of the Tans. The rock pool was great! Water was clear right through to the sandy bottom on the pool, but icy cold and took some getting used to. Occasionally a crab or two would come out from under the rocks and give a good nip as punishment for us invading its sanctuary. There were other pools further up but these were deep and not suitable for the younger kids.
The day ended with another visit to the rocks of the tiny island adjacent to the resort. Striding on the sandbar with water pushing against my legs, the sun on my shoulders, my body unused to exercise felt sore. Still, I had the satisfaction of knowing that at least here I was getting more exercise than I ever would back home where it was so easy to just revert to my slug-like existence.
With the younger kids on a kayak pushed by the men, the older kids and adults had life jackets on as they snorkelled and swam around the coral garden. At least that's what most of them did. I was just busy flailing my arms about trying to flip myself over like a turtle on the wrong side and alternately clutching KH in a panic trying not to drown.
Poor man, on his part he was trying NOT to drown since I was using him as a life preserver. You can tell by now that water is not my best element and that it has been years since I actually swam and not just splashed about in the baby pool keeping an eye on the kids. Add that to the fact that on a good day, my hand-eye co-ordination could be said to be only 'developmental', and you can imagine the panic I was in to be floating (a) in the open sea and (b) with nothing but a life-jacket to keep me afloat and not fish food.
Still, when I did manage to get my gears in order, the glimpses that I caught of the coral garden revealed a world of pink, purple and blue, with flashes of yellow, silver, black, teal and orange occasionally darting past my line of sight. Sometimes these were glowing and luminous. Petrified though I was, I had to concede it was fascinating and very pretty. Just amazing. Who knew that life under the sea was really so colourful and lovely? And all this while I just chalked it down to snazzy cinematography in documentaries and skillful lighting in aquariums!
So, yes it was beautiful and pretty and all that, but it still felt a bit surreal to be floating in what seemed like a giant aquarium tank to me. It occurred to me, rather uncomfortably, that here I was at the bottom of the food chain.
The others loved it though and there was non-stop chatter about all the discoveries they'd made, chief of which was the sting ray they'd seen half hidden beneath a rock. Ivan found a dead baby black-tipped reef shark and that ended up on our dinner table that night as sambal shark - yummy!
By day's end, there was a pleasant soreness in my body, and despite the use of sunscreen, my shoulders were dull pink from the sun. But it felt good. It felt a bit sad to know that this was our last night and we had to leave the next day. 
But leave we had to. Good to know that we all decided, pretty unanimously, that we would be back in 2011. There are still plentiful green nooks we have not fully explored, unknown coves to be kayaked to and just the sheer green-blue waters to plunge into.
Going home
Morning at the Honke Bankyu.Woke up to bright sunlight flooding the room. For a minute I thought I overslept till noon. The light looked like the morning was already well underway, but actually it was only 4am. The morning mist coated the hills around Yunishigawa onsen, lending it a rather dreamy vibe. It was lovely to sink back into the futon and drift back to sleep.
Here's the vine bridge and the annex across the river where I had dinner the night before. Breakfast, however, was in the main building. It was a cheery affair with a generous buffet. Honestly, I had no clue as to some of what I was eating but everything tasted good! I liked the shishamo, the soft eggs and the onsen tamago. Gohan, as always, in Japan, was light and fluffy - a huge improvement over what we get in Japanese restaurants here in Singapore. Maybe its the water.After I checked out, I left my bags in the reception area of the ryokan and went for a walk around the river. I still had some time to kill before the bus arrived.Spring had arrived and flowers were out in bloom. Dandelions, marigold... the riverbanks were a riot of colour. With the warm breeze and blue skies, the teal-green of the water, it was one of those days when you just want to take a deep breath and feel great to be alive.
Across the new red lacquered bridge, there was a tiny shrine and small cemetery directly in front of the ryokan. But what was a great find was the tiny pool in a hollow of rocks. That was a natural hot spring where hot water gushed up from a slash in the rocks. It was just too tempting to remove my shoes and socks and soak my feet in the pool. The fact that there were rough steps carved up from rocks leading to the pool and an absence of bath/shower facilities made it obvious that this was meant more as footbath. So I sat there, feet in water, gazing at the ryokan across the river, insects buzzing around and a slight wind played with the branches above. In all honesty, I wish I didn't have to leave, or that this moment would just freeze in time. It was a very idyllic spot on a lovely day.
But regrettably, I had to go. The shoes were waiting. The bus was coming and 6000miles away, the kids would be clamouring to go pick me up from the airport. My 'me' time was coming to an end. But I was glad it ended on that note, at the tiny hotspring pool, before I had to return to Tokyo, to Singapore and the rest of my life.
True to form the bus arrived exactly on time. We trundled back the same way we came and once again, my journey in reverse, I was alone on the bus ride. Back at the JR Yunishigawa onsen stop, the bus stopped its engine while the driver took a break. He sportingly took a picture of me with my pack on the empty bus. I also asked to skip across the road to take this picture of an old rail bridge and the lake. It was an incredibly scenic place.
Back in Tokyo after three hours, I had some time to kill before catching a train back to Narita. At Asakusa, I was again tempted to go to Sensoji but found the crowds overwhelming. I did make a quick round of Nakamachi dori for cheap souvenirs - in particular Owain's request for a tiny samurai sword before I took the subway back to Ueno where I stuffed the backpack into the lockers at the Keisei Ueno station. I bought my ticket for the Skyliner and then wandered for a bit around Ueno park, seeing the Kannon temple which the kids visited. I had missed seeing this in 2007 when I had to make the long commute back to Chidoricho station and Kangetsu ryokan to search for that blasted brand new Burberry we lost!
The Kannon temple was quiet. I took the opportunity to do what I usually do, write an ema tablet and hang it up. I was in good company. Around me were ema tablets written in Korean, in Chinese, in Spanish, in French, in Russian. It was a place of hope. I liked reading the messages. A Taiwanese (presumably since it was written in the long-form Chinese) woman gave thanks and expressed her love for her husband (newly-wed) and requested for a baby to come their way. One in French asked for blessings of happiness and health (deciphered from the remnants of very rough rudimentary French that I still remembered).
I asked for health, happiness, peace for all of us and for Cait to get into the national training squad. And so far, its been more than half a year and Kannon has looked upon us favourably! Perhaps that Taiwanese lady also has the baby she asked for!
The afternoon was getting uncomfortably warm. As I stood by the lotus pond near Shinobazu pond at the Benten Hall, an Indian man asked me for directions. Guess what, the guy was also from Singapore! For a tiny nation like us, we are either an incredibly well-travelled lot or the world is really a tinier place than I realised! This journey was just full of chance meetings with Singaporeans!
I could not leave Tokyo without a last go at some sushi. I remembered a stall in Ameyoko across from Ueno. I didn't have much time but I thought I could just make it. It took me a good 10minutes to walk into the market, past the fish stalls, the dried goods stalls, the garment outlets etc before I spotted the colourful stall front. This was a place we had seen the last time we visited Tokyo in 2009. I remembered the cheap plates of sushi-don in various mouth-watering configurations blown up in colourful photographs and was determined to have a go at this.
Oh so tempting... should it be ikura-don, or maguro-don? Or uni? I gave in to the bowl of pale pink minced toro with ikura. Sitting at the tiny stall, a paper cup of tea and gulping down the fish - this was what I enjoyed so much about being in Tokyo. Great food, inexpensive sushi, a street-side food experience in a lively market.
From here, it was a brisk walk back to Keisei Ueno, catching the Skyliner back to Narita. At Narita, I was foolishly forgetful and absent-mindedly tried to get past immigration with Owain's tiny samurai sword still in my bag. I was stopped, bag searched and scanned several times before they realised it was the toy sword. I pointed out to them that this was plastic, helpfully jabbing myself in the arm to demo. They hemmed and hawwed and made lots of polite noises. I realised I was making it difficult for them to say no. At that point, I really wanted to just give up the sword but they were extremely helpful and apologetic. The immigration officer walked me out back to the JAL check-in counters where the staff (with more animated bowing, nodding, smiles and rapid-fire Japanese) took the sword from me, dropped it into a cardboard box and checked it in.
It was a bit embarrassing and I was vexed with myself for making this sort of dumb mistake and inconveniencing everyone. But they were very good about it and I was escorted back through immigration without re-joining the queue. So that experience really summed up why the Japanese are so polite to a fault, and so well-known for their service culture! Had this incident taken place in another country known for hostile lengthy interrogations at immigration where visitors are known as 'aliens' (take a guess) I don't think I would have had such a gracious or kind reception.
So ends my solo trip to Japan. I really liked this trip. I liked being on my own and I had good experiences all round. I thank the Japan National Tourist Organisation, JAL and the good people of Tokyo Disney Resort for making this trip possible.
Now, looking forward - Japan in early spring 2011! But before that, look out for posts on Tioman and Hong Kong.
But regrettably, I had to go. The shoes were waiting. The bus was coming and 6000miles away, the kids would be clamouring to go pick me up from the airport. My 'me' time was coming to an end. But I was glad it ended on that note, at the tiny hotspring pool, before I had to return to Tokyo, to Singapore and the rest of my life.
True to form the bus arrived exactly on time. We trundled back the same way we came and once again, my journey in reverse, I was alone on the bus ride. Back at the JR Yunishigawa onsen stop, the bus stopped its engine while the driver took a break. He sportingly took a picture of me with my pack on the empty bus. I also asked to skip across the road to take this picture of an old rail bridge and the lake. It was an incredibly scenic place.
Back in Tokyo after three hours, I had some time to kill before catching a train back to Narita. At Asakusa, I was again tempted to go to Sensoji but found the crowds overwhelming. I did make a quick round of Nakamachi dori for cheap souvenirs - in particular Owain's request for a tiny samurai sword before I took the subway back to Ueno where I stuffed the backpack into the lockers at the Keisei Ueno station. I bought my ticket for the Skyliner and then wandered for a bit around Ueno park, seeing the Kannon temple which the kids visited. I had missed seeing this in 2007 when I had to make the long commute back to Chidoricho station and Kangetsu ryokan to search for that blasted brand new Burberry we lost!
The Kannon temple was quiet. I took the opportunity to do what I usually do, write an ema tablet and hang it up. I was in good company. Around me were ema tablets written in Korean, in Chinese, in Spanish, in French, in Russian. It was a place of hope. I liked reading the messages. A Taiwanese (presumably since it was written in the long-form Chinese) woman gave thanks and expressed her love for her husband (newly-wed) and requested for a baby to come their way. One in French asked for blessings of happiness and health (deciphered from the remnants of very rough rudimentary French that I still remembered).
I asked for health, happiness, peace for all of us and for Cait to get into the national training squad. And so far, its been more than half a year and Kannon has looked upon us favourably! Perhaps that Taiwanese lady also has the baby she asked for!
The afternoon was getting uncomfortably warm. As I stood by the lotus pond near Shinobazu pond at the Benten Hall, an Indian man asked me for directions. Guess what, the guy was also from Singapore! For a tiny nation like us, we are either an incredibly well-travelled lot or the world is really a tinier place than I realised! This journey was just full of chance meetings with Singaporeans!
I could not leave Tokyo without a last go at some sushi. I remembered a stall in Ameyoko across from Ueno. I didn't have much time but I thought I could just make it. It took me a good 10minutes to walk into the market, past the fish stalls, the dried goods stalls, the garment outlets etc before I spotted the colourful stall front. This was a place we had seen the last time we visited Tokyo in 2009. I remembered the cheap plates of sushi-don in various mouth-watering configurations blown up in colourful photographs and was determined to have a go at this.Oh so tempting... should it be ikura-don, or maguro-don? Or uni? I gave in to the bowl of pale pink minced toro with ikura. Sitting at the tiny stall, a paper cup of tea and gulping down the fish - this was what I enjoyed so much about being in Tokyo. Great food, inexpensive sushi, a street-side food experience in a lively market.
From here, it was a brisk walk back to Keisei Ueno, catching the Skyliner back to Narita. At Narita, I was foolishly forgetful and absent-mindedly tried to get past immigration with Owain's tiny samurai sword still in my bag. I was stopped, bag searched and scanned several times before they realised it was the toy sword. I pointed out to them that this was plastic, helpfully jabbing myself in the arm to demo. They hemmed and hawwed and made lots of polite noises. I realised I was making it difficult for them to say no. At that point, I really wanted to just give up the sword but they were extremely helpful and apologetic. The immigration officer walked me out back to the JAL check-in counters where the staff (with more animated bowing, nodding, smiles and rapid-fire Japanese) took the sword from me, dropped it into a cardboard box and checked it in.
It was a bit embarrassing and I was vexed with myself for making this sort of dumb mistake and inconveniencing everyone. But they were very good about it and I was escorted back through immigration without re-joining the queue. So that experience really summed up why the Japanese are so polite to a fault, and so well-known for their service culture! Had this incident taken place in another country known for hostile lengthy interrogations at immigration where visitors are known as 'aliens' (take a guess) I don't think I would have had such a gracious or kind reception.
So ends my solo trip to Japan. I really liked this trip. I liked being on my own and I had good experiences all round. I thank the Japan National Tourist Organisation, JAL and the good people of Tokyo Disney Resort for making this trip possible.
Now, looking forward - Japan in early spring 2011! But before that, look out for posts on Tioman and Hong Kong.
Where Heike warriors walked… and bathed!
It was an overcast day but the grey clouds only served to add mist and atmosphere to the hidden valley deep in Tochigi prefecture. From Asakusa Tokyo, it took me the better part of three hours to get to the remote Honke Bankyu ryokan atYunishigawa Onsen. But it is well worth the journey.From the Villa Fontaine at Shiodome, it was an easy walk underground to the Ginza station where I took the subway to Asakusa. What I love about Tokyo is the connectivity of their buildings with the transport system. Seems like everything is well-planned and thought out. Underground malls and passages connect both JR lines and subways with the major buildings.
From Asakusa Tobu station, with lots of sign language and smiles, I managed to buy a 2-day pass for travel in the Kinugawa/Nikko area which covered both my bus and rail journeys.
I was early and as always, it was interesting to see the cleaning crew on standby at the platform, and then bowing before making their way into the train to clean up the train and reverse the seats.
The train I took was a sleek nosed model called the SPACIA. I had to pay a supplement for this but I think it was worth skipping most of the smaller stations along the way. I was seated across the aisle from a group of excitedly chattering obachan, clearly out for a girls' day out at the spa. Again with smiles, bows and sign language, I asked one of them to take a picture of me and the tiny obachan cheerily obliged.
Passing the wide grey Sumida-gawa, I passed the usual views of Tokyo with all the ferroconcrete structures cheek by jowl, a small patch of grass and tiny playground, schools, workers in a cafetaria having a break, passengers waiting for trains on a platform. All that soon gave way to farmland, running alongside the tracks, bamboo groves, gentle green hills and clusters of houses with the occasional Jizo statue standing guard at some road junctions. As the train snaked deeper into the countryside, we passed mist-covered pools of water, fringed by dark trees. The further away from Tokyo I went, the more of an adventure I felt I was in.
Almost two hours into the journey, the train pulled up at Kinugawa Onsen. Kinugawa Onsen itself is a popular spa town among the Japanese. But I was looking for something a lot more traditional than the many blocks of hotels that ringed the area. So off I went, asking for directions again at the stationmaster's office, just to be clear that I was on the right track. Just outside the station is a large plaza with a series of bus-stands and right on time, with just a few minutes wait, the bus for Honke Bankyu pulled up.Again, I am always amazed how much clockwork precision went into timing train arrivals and bus connections to fit just right. If this sort of mapping can be done in a country like Japan, connecting even the most remote towns so efficiently and painlessly, why can this not be done in a city like Singapore?
The bus trundled over hills and valleys, passing in the middle of sleepy quiet towns, over bridges spanning wide rivers. About half an hour into the journey, it stopped at Yunishigawa train station, a tiny station in the middle of nowhere. No houses stood in the vicinity. It was just the station and the river. No one got on. I was the last passenger on board. A bit apprehensive, I clarified once more with the driver, who made an OK sign and grinned reassuringly.On we went for another half an hour - just me and the bus driver on a road that was increasingly narrow. On one side was the tree and foliage filled face of the hill and other, a drop into a steep canyon where a tiny river trickled by on a pebbled bed. There was some construction along the way and it brought to mind Alex Kerr's bitterness about the desecration of Japan's rivers and streams by constant damming.
Finally the bus lumbered into a one-street town and the driver nodded to the left - Honke Bankyu ryokan. I got down and there it was - a double story white and timber building at the background of a gravelled parking lot.
The ryokan must have been expecting me. A ryokan staff, dressed in a dark green kimono, hurried up to me with an umbrella. At the foyer, I slipped into a pair of slippers and the lady of the house who spoke halting English, welcomed me warmly. Someone struck a drum, a deep sound of welcome reverberated, marking the centuries of tradition at the ryokan to announce the arrival of a guest. I fumbled for my camera apologetically and with warm smiles, they struck the drum again.
My room was up a flight of dark wooden creaky stairs and timber beams. The main building, where I stayed, is a 300-year-old building with beams that look uneven in size and texture, floors that have been worn smooth by time and altogether, imbued with the tradition and rustic charm that I was looking for in a ryokan stay.
I had the standard room, which the picture does not do justice to. The sliding doors of the main entrance opened to a tiny vestibule where the slippers are kept. On a raised wooden platform, another set of shoji screen doors open up to the room itself. What you see in the picture is a sitting area with doors that open up to a view of mountain, forest and stream. The area even had a wooden trapdoor that concealed an irori - an indoor hearth. On the left, unseen in this picture, is the wood-lined bathroom with a deep cedar tub.As the custom in a ryokan, I was given a brief orientation, tea was brewed and I was asked what time I would prefer to have dinner and breakfast. It was all a bit formal but once the kind lady had left the room, I skipped about the place gleefully, unable to stop grinning. I made it! I am here in this wonderful room, with only the rustling of leaves and the murmur of the stream far below.
Dinner was at 6.30pm so I had about an hour or so to check out the onsen. The Honke Bankyu had segregated baths, one an indoor bath and the other a rotemburo for ladies. The changing area was large, well-lit and came with bells and whistles such as hairdryers, warm tea, all the tiny amenities that ladies needed and even a weighing scale - which I steered clear of!
So here's the truth - no matter how many onsen you visit, you're still an onsen virgin until you've bathed with strangers. In earlier visits to Japan, there were only my girls with me in the bath. Here, at the Honke Bankyu, I met my waterloo. I tried not to look at them and I tried to scrub down as quickly as I could but it was hard not to sneak a peek. I'm glad I did because it was good to see that I'm not the only one with all the weird bits hanging out! You do get used to it after a while and once in the water, no one really cares if you look like the Goodyear blimp since everyone's just spacing out or talking quietly to friends.
After the bath, I suddenly realised how hungry I was. At 6.30pm sharp, I crossed the kazura bashi - the vine bridge that linked the old main building to the dining hall. It was all so atmospheric. In the deepening purple and mauve light of dusk, the hills were only dark shadows and outlines. Far beneath my feet, water with glints of light, gurgled past. The lights of the ryokan had come on, warm and orange. Dressed in my yukata, standing there gazing at the scene, I felt as if I had gone back centuries in time.
Dining was communal in a large hall laced with lanterns. We all sat on the floor, flanking our own irori where food was already skewered and standing ready in the sand, gently heated by a small fire. Next to me was my own personal tray of food - always so impeccably arranged and in tune with the seasons and setting. I had read that the food at the Honke Bankyu was unusual even by Japanese standards, so I was prepared for something really special. True enough, it did not disappoint. My favourite was the shiksa sashimi - raw deer meat sashimi, lightly torched. There was no hint of gaminess and neither was the meat chewy.
The waitress patiently tried to explain and describe each dish to me. As we tried conversing a bit, I heard a familiar accent. A couple seated across from me smiled and asked me where I was from. When I told them, they grinned: "So are we!"
They were friendly folk but ack, what are the odds of bumping into other Singaporeans in this remote, far-flung corner of Japan! We chatted for a while but it was clear that they were in a different social strata. Retired, well-educated, clearly well-heeled and well-travelled, they were in Japan tracing an onsen route through highly expensive exclusive ryokans. For them, the Honke Bankyu was a stop in an itinerary punctuated by the best ryokans Japan had to offer. For me, this was a splurge!
Midway through dinner, the owner of the ryokan gave a speech. All in Japanese so I was completely lost. She then went from one party to another, being the gracious host. Yikes, I was not looking forward to that! In fact, I was thoroughly intimidated. I could not speak a word of the language so past the initial smiles, she stiffened up a bit and beckoned me over to the other Singaporean party where she also invited a young Frenchman (but fluent Japanese speaker) to translate. It was all a bit awkward. French guy was cute though.
After dinner, it was a quick exploratory walk through the ryokan. The living space had a large irori as a centrepiece. Above it, near my room is a cosy library corner complete with leather couches, book-filled shelves and an internet corner. Back in my room, I found the table cleared away and my futon already laid out - an invitation to slumber which I gladly accepted.
Snuggled there, bean pillow beneath my head, I gazed out at the night sky - just an insignificant little dot tucked away in a far-away corner of Japan. I liked the feeling of anonymity and solitude. I was glad I made the journey to the Honke Bankyu. I liked the sense of anticipation for the next day's travel and the delicious thrill of not knowing what comes next. But right then, at that time, I could not sleep better anywhere else in the world.
Tsukiji - land of fish and swords
It was grey but very bright at 4.30am when I woke up.The plan was to head to Tsukiji market, load up on the freshest sushi ever before continuing on the next leg of my solo adventure to Honke Bankkyu. That was the plan.
But it was raining – the cold drizzly rain that drips down your neck and makes you utterly miserable – and it was soooo tempting to just snuggle back under the covers. Plus unlike other hotels, the Villa Fontaine actually offered a decent Japanese breakfast buffet!
I alternated between the mental tug-of-war and actual sleep before I jumped up at 5am, deciding it was time to haul my lazy protesting butt out of bed and get some seafood. I’ve been to Japan twice before and never had the chance to visit Tsukiji. Third time, I was determined, had to be the charm.
The Princess was supposed to come with me but repeated calls to her room went unanswered. So off I went. I was pretty happy to go alone – liked the sense of liberty.
The Villa Fontaine is very well-placed for a visit to Tsukiji – arguably the largest and the most famous fish market in the world. It was either a 15-minute walk or a 3-minute ride via the subway from Shiodome. Had the weather been more obliging, I would have chosen to walk since I could see more stuff above ground than in a train. I would also have loved to cover the Hama Rikyu garden. But it was wet and chilly, so subway it would be!
I got an umbrella from the front desk, hopped down the escalator and voila – the subway was just there. That early in the morning, there were less than five people on the platform of the Shiodome station on the Ginza line. I was the only woman. In any other subway, in any other major city in the world, I would have thought twice about this. But this was Tokyo. About the only other place in the world as safe as this would be Singapore.Once out of the train, you know immediately where you are from the unmistakeable smell of – fish!
I followed the stream of people to the entrance of the market. A notice on the walls clearly state the new rules: limited numbers of visitors to the tuna auction, no visitors in the market until after 9am. I was already too late for the tuna auction so that was okay, but the other new rule – meh! I chose to ignore it but decided to make a mental note to keep out of the way and to look unobtrusive. Here’s where looking Asian helped – I think!
First impressions – lots of lorries, refrigerator vans, motorised carts, puddles. The place was like an airplane hanger – huge. And that was just the entrance!
I made my way to the outer market – trial and error, skipping puddles and dodging vans and trucks. The outer market is a made up rows of shops back to back. Here were the food stalls and sundry stalls that sold everything and anything that had to do with Japanese food – seaweed, condiments, wasabi roots, pickles, rice, utensils, right down to some really cool t-shirts!
But all that could wait. I had to see the inner market first before all the action died down.
Let me say two things right up front – the inner market is well worth a visit even if you can’t make it to the tuna auction because all of God’s weird and wondrous undersea creations are here – you just have to guess what they are if you don’t know Japanese. Second, wear grungy shoes. The place is riddled with puddles and slippery cobblestones. The motorised cart derby guys do their best to avoid making you roadkill in the market but dodging them may mean jumping into the nearest icky puddle – unless you are very nimble. So you have been warned.
Clams as big as my face, abalone as thick as my fist, wriggly streams of eels, bulbous puffers, all sea creatures great and small, spiny and smooth, they are all there and – apparently – all edible and waiting to be served on someone’s dinner table! The stars of course, were the gigantic tuna and the men who cut, sawed, hacked and filleted them to precise requirements.
The kids would have loved the dangerous-looking metre-long swords, the industrial saws, the axes, wicked-looking hooks and all manner of iron that served to reduce the blood-red meat to more manageable proportions.
The tuna auctions long over, I saw the silver, frost-coated torpedoes lined up on floors, covered by sackcloth. These giant fish looked heavy but the workers just hooked them and flipped them over with ease.
All around, people were looking busy, talking on handphones, writing orders etc. I presume these are the smaller restauranteurs and retailers checking out the day's best buys. Some did look at me curiously but no one said anything about the fact that I should not be in the market before 9am. There were other tourists also wandering about so I was not alone in flouting this rule.
After seeing all that fish, I went back to the outer market in search of my sushi brekkie. You can't get sushi fresher than this, straight from the world's largest fish market!
I saw the line outside Sushi-Daiwa, one of the well-known sushi restaurants in Tsukiji. They had queue poles outside which already told me that the place is used to queues. Plus the line was stretching right around the block! People were queuing in the rain for goodness sake. Look, I love sushi, but I don't love it that much!
There were faded small mom-and-pop shops which sold noodles too and you can tell these were authentic with workers still in their wellies at the counter slurping away. But I was looking for sushi and finally found a warmly-lit welcoming tiny place. It wasn't until I sat down at the teensy sushi bar that I realised that the place was full of gaijin! Wrong place to be since this is likely to be less than authentic and catered more to gaijin tastes! But since I was in already, I sat down. The chef could speak English and he sang while he worked - all in the name of showmanship I guess!
I ordered the largest set which cost 3600yen. Came with all the usual suspects including my favourites - including those glistening vermillion spheres of ikura, a long, generous slice of anago, the lushly succulent pale pink otoro and the orange morsel of uni (sea urchin). The set also included miso soup with large prawns.
Next to me was an Irish girl and her British boyfriend. They were sushi virgins. The girl ordered by telling the chef that she'll have what I have! When her set came, she didn't know what to do with it so I told her about the different types of fishes on her platter, how to eat it etc. But it didn't do much good - they tore apart each piece of sushi to 'share' and all the best cuts were left either uneaten , nibbled at or worse, spat out - very gross! I don't know about the chef but I thought that was an appalling waste of food. They were not the only ones. As I left, I noticed other platters left with many pieces of sushi/fish left uneaten. What a waste of good fish!
I know travel is an experience and an experience in a sushi joint in Tsukiji would have counted as an 'experience' to be savoured too. But to me, travel also means preparing oneself for the experience and if sushi was really new to these guys, they would have been better off trying out the stuff at a kaitan-sushi joint first. Culturally, they would also have gotten more out of the experience had they read up a bit and tried out a bit of the baseline sushi (eg maguro, shake etc) before coming to Tsukiji and trying out all the more adventurous cuts. Call me a sushi snob, but I think the fish deserve better.
Brekkie over, I indulged in some retail therapy and ended up paying too much for two t-shirts at 4500yen a piece. The prints were really nice though, and I did not see them sold anywhere else. I know, I know - I am trying to console myself!
From Tsukiji, I headed back to the hotel to pack. I had a long and slightly complicated journey ahead of me to the Honke Bankyu ryokan in the remote area of Yunishigawa, up at Tochigi prefecture. More on that in the next post!
At large with a Princess in Tokyo
It was raining the night I left Disney for the bright neon of Ginza. A stuffed backpack on my back, a bulging Monsters Inc. briefcase in one hand and a Disney plastic lunchbox swinging crazily by its neon-green strap where I had haphazardly tied it to my pack, I must have looked quite a sight.
The Princess I was travelling with, on the other hand, looked spiffy in her colour-coordinated pink ruffled dress and coat and boots, pulling along not one, but TWO suitcases. We may be friends but we’re as different as chalk and cheese. We were teased earlier about how different we both were in spite of our friendship. She is the posh publisher who wears only colour-coordinated dresses and accessories, travelling with suitcases packed with glam stuff and accessories including curlers! I was the diametrically opposite independent traveler who is happy to live in scruffy jeans and tees out of a backpack.
That said backpack was now a deadweight thanks to the mad spree I went on in Disney.
Why oh why did I succumb to temptation and buy so many Disney souvenirs? With no KH there to stop me, I went on a Disney binge in the resort’s shops – buying boxes of Mickey crackers, Tinkerbell souvenir plates (porcelain for heaven’s sake!), lunch boxes, bags, key chains and all nature of paraphernalia. Thank God I stopped short of buying the blue Monsters Inc. helmet – though I was sorely tempted – because now, lugging all this behind me in a rainy net to make two train changes and one long commute to Shiodome was just not fun anymore. After struggling less than 200m into Ikspiari, the mall leading to the JR Maihama station, I sat for a rest.
The Princess surveyed me with amusement. This is why, she said loftily, I would never travel with a backpack. You have too much stuff. Go into the Disney store and buy a spare bag, she advised. The large one with Mickey and Minnie on it, she directed. It was canvas and looked like the tacky large ones that hold all manner of sundry, usually seen on rural trains in China. But apparently the Princess was not above one of these. It was on sale anyway, so buy it I did. But to my immediate dismay the bag was so large and unwieldy that it was practically dragging on the floor! Glumly I folded it back and added it to my already groaning bags. One more for the road.
We plodded through the rest of Iskpiari and I resolutely walked past the cute bakery that tempted me earlier, with the milk roll and oh-so-kawaii cow-print bag it came with. I ignored the colourful scarves on a cart nearby. I could NOT add to my already stuffed bags anymore. Wisely the Princess also decided not to stop and shop.
We made it to JR Maihaima. And here’s where I slipped into familiarity and navigated the ticket machine like a native. The Princess, being a Princess, left the ticket-buying to me. Once in, I had to scout around for a lift to take the Princess and her bags to the platform level. My turn to feel loftily smug. This, I told her, is why I would never travel with suitcases! It would not be the last time I would rub it in as our slow journey through the train stations to our hotel would be punctuated with attempts to look for lifts.
Once in the train to Tokyo, we chatted – about life, loves, present and past, children, travel, just catching up on the 20-odd years that had elapsed since we last met. Back then she was a sales executive and I was a fresh reporter working for the same magazine. Today she is a publisher of well-known travel magazines and I am a mother of five. She asked, not cruelly, “What happened to you? I always thought you were ambitious.”
What can I say? Life happens in ways you never expect.
It's not as if there were no doors open. But like the game shows, you walk through the door of your choice. Had I walked through those, my five children would not have happened and my life would have been very different. I chose a different door. Still, one man's booby prize is another man's lottery win. I think it’s where you are in the present that counts and right now, my life is in a pretty good place. I have no money, no status, no designer togs and my resume now reads as simply ‘mother of five’. But being where I was that night – sitting in a train on a rainy night in Japan, my kids waiting back home, I felt so thankful already, like life had already taken me further than I had ever expected. It was not grand, but it was fine.
In Tokyo station, after navigating streams of black-suited penguins again on the long walk from the Keiyo line and always pointing the Princess to the lifts, we found ourselves in front of glass-fronted station cafes, suddenly starving. She plumped for kare raisu (curry rice) and I opted for that tempting bowl of rice with a dollop of mentaiko next door.
It was not until I sat at the counter, salarymen tucking into steaming bowls of udon on either side that it hit me – I was really and truly in Tokyo. Back in Japan! It was hard to hold back the squeal of excitement so I just ended up choking a bit on the mentaiko.
The Princess later told me that was the best kare raisu she’d had. And this was just a mere faceless hole-in the-wall shop in the bowels of Tokyo station!
At Shinbashi station, the Princess met her waterloo – no lifts! She motioned me to go ahead on the escalators. I said drily that I would feel safer being BEHIND her! Nonetheless I went ahead and waited at ground level to see what she would do.
And of all things? The old damsel in distress trick. She batted her eyelashes and smiled winningly at a passing salary man who happened to speak a bit of English and he helped navigate her bags down the escalator, whereupon she thanked him sweetly.
The rain had slowed to a drizzle but the Princess had had enough. We’ll take a cab, she decided briskly. And so in less than 3 minutes, we had arrived at the Villa Fontaine Shiodome. The ride had cost us 710yen. Sometimes, there are perks travelling with a princess.
Minutes later, we had checked in easily. The Princess was miffed to be given a room on the second floor and tried to no avail to get her room changed. I, on the other hand, was given what I think is the best room – on the highest floor, in a corner where the view peeked directly out onto Hama Rikyu garden and Tokyo Bay! No way was I going to swop rooms with the Princess! It didn’t matter even when my room reeked of stale smoke because – check out the view! And never mind that the view was one of raindrops silhouetted against a black night, I was here in Tokyo and all on my own.
Now that was what mattered!
The Princess I was travelling with, on the other hand, looked spiffy in her colour-coordinated pink ruffled dress and coat and boots, pulling along not one, but TWO suitcases. We may be friends but we’re as different as chalk and cheese. We were teased earlier about how different we both were in spite of our friendship. She is the posh publisher who wears only colour-coordinated dresses and accessories, travelling with suitcases packed with glam stuff and accessories including curlers! I was the diametrically opposite independent traveler who is happy to live in scruffy jeans and tees out of a backpack.
That said backpack was now a deadweight thanks to the mad spree I went on in Disney.
Why oh why did I succumb to temptation and buy so many Disney souvenirs? With no KH there to stop me, I went on a Disney binge in the resort’s shops – buying boxes of Mickey crackers, Tinkerbell souvenir plates (porcelain for heaven’s sake!), lunch boxes, bags, key chains and all nature of paraphernalia. Thank God I stopped short of buying the blue Monsters Inc. helmet – though I was sorely tempted – because now, lugging all this behind me in a rainy net to make two train changes and one long commute to Shiodome was just not fun anymore. After struggling less than 200m into Ikspiari, the mall leading to the JR Maihama station, I sat for a rest.
The Princess surveyed me with amusement. This is why, she said loftily, I would never travel with a backpack. You have too much stuff. Go into the Disney store and buy a spare bag, she advised. The large one with Mickey and Minnie on it, she directed. It was canvas and looked like the tacky large ones that hold all manner of sundry, usually seen on rural trains in China. But apparently the Princess was not above one of these. It was on sale anyway, so buy it I did. But to my immediate dismay the bag was so large and unwieldy that it was practically dragging on the floor! Glumly I folded it back and added it to my already groaning bags. One more for the road.
We plodded through the rest of Iskpiari and I resolutely walked past the cute bakery that tempted me earlier, with the milk roll and oh-so-kawaii cow-print bag it came with. I ignored the colourful scarves on a cart nearby. I could NOT add to my already stuffed bags anymore. Wisely the Princess also decided not to stop and shop.
We made it to JR Maihaima. And here’s where I slipped into familiarity and navigated the ticket machine like a native. The Princess, being a Princess, left the ticket-buying to me. Once in, I had to scout around for a lift to take the Princess and her bags to the platform level. My turn to feel loftily smug. This, I told her, is why I would never travel with suitcases! It would not be the last time I would rub it in as our slow journey through the train stations to our hotel would be punctuated with attempts to look for lifts.
Once in the train to Tokyo, we chatted – about life, loves, present and past, children, travel, just catching up on the 20-odd years that had elapsed since we last met. Back then she was a sales executive and I was a fresh reporter working for the same magazine. Today she is a publisher of well-known travel magazines and I am a mother of five. She asked, not cruelly, “What happened to you? I always thought you were ambitious.”
What can I say? Life happens in ways you never expect.
It's not as if there were no doors open. But like the game shows, you walk through the door of your choice. Had I walked through those, my five children would not have happened and my life would have been very different. I chose a different door. Still, one man's booby prize is another man's lottery win. I think it’s where you are in the present that counts and right now, my life is in a pretty good place. I have no money, no status, no designer togs and my resume now reads as simply ‘mother of five’. But being where I was that night – sitting in a train on a rainy night in Japan, my kids waiting back home, I felt so thankful already, like life had already taken me further than I had ever expected. It was not grand, but it was fine.
In Tokyo station, after navigating streams of black-suited penguins again on the long walk from the Keiyo line and always pointing the Princess to the lifts, we found ourselves in front of glass-fronted station cafes, suddenly starving. She plumped for kare raisu (curry rice) and I opted for that tempting bowl of rice with a dollop of mentaiko next door.
It was not until I sat at the counter, salarymen tucking into steaming bowls of udon on either side that it hit me – I was really and truly in Tokyo. Back in Japan! It was hard to hold back the squeal of excitement so I just ended up choking a bit on the mentaiko.
The Princess later told me that was the best kare raisu she’d had. And this was just a mere faceless hole-in the-wall shop in the bowels of Tokyo station!
At Shinbashi station, the Princess met her waterloo – no lifts! She motioned me to go ahead on the escalators. I said drily that I would feel safer being BEHIND her! Nonetheless I went ahead and waited at ground level to see what she would do.
And of all things? The old damsel in distress trick. She batted her eyelashes and smiled winningly at a passing salary man who happened to speak a bit of English and he helped navigate her bags down the escalator, whereupon she thanked him sweetly.
The rain had slowed to a drizzle but the Princess had had enough. We’ll take a cab, she decided briskly. And so in less than 3 minutes, we had arrived at the Villa Fontaine Shiodome. The ride had cost us 710yen. Sometimes, there are perks travelling with a princess.
Minutes later, we had checked in easily. The Princess was miffed to be given a room on the second floor and tried to no avail to get her room changed. I, on the other hand, was given what I think is the best room – on the highest floor, in a corner where the view peeked directly out onto Hama Rikyu garden and Tokyo Bay! No way was I going to swop rooms with the Princess! It didn’t matter even when my room reeked of stale smoke because – check out the view! And never mind that the view was one of raindrops silhouetted against a black night, I was here in Tokyo and all on my own.
Now that was what mattered!
Solo travel
I've been wanting to blog about this for the longest time but life was going on around me too much for me to sit down and reflect and write.
I want to write about my trip to Japan a month ago - feels like a lifetime ago already. But I've still got some commercial stuff to sort out so specific trip reports will take a bit longer to post.
For now though, I'd just like to put some thoughts down on my solo travel adventure.
The very first trip I took on my own was when I was 21, on a flight to Melbourne. I stayed there for a month with my aunt who became like a second mother to me. So does that count as solo travel? Not quite right?
Since then, every trip I've taken has been with my KH - best pal and other half - who has taken very good care of me on all our trips. When I consider that he's the guy who writes up the packing list, packs our backpacks and does our laundry, I wonder if I should just pack him in my luggage with me. But then again, he's also the same guy with whom I've had some memorable rip-roaring fights on those trips too. Never a dull moment!
But now, it looked like I would be on my own in Japan. For two days after the Disney junket, I would be alone. It was only two days. Big deal right? But to me, it was a big scary deal. I had not done this alone before. I had not gone on a business trip, let alone a solo trip. No one to talk to, no one to remind me of the essentials (like my meds, as KH always faithfully does) and no one to share my mistakes and wrong turns.
You'll be okay, KH reassured me. You know Japan. You know your way around.
He kept telling me that until 5am that rainy morning when I left the house for the airport. I left with a big stone in my chest - one loaded half with fear and half with exhilaration.
Luckily, I travelled with a nice bunch of reporters and I had a long-lost friend to catch up with. Helped me feel more grounded and a lot safer. The Disney portion helped ease me into solo travel.
For once, I had a whole room to myself. I could soak in the tub for as long as I liked after a day of walking in the parks and I did not have to contend with kids chasing me out for their own soaking! I could surf the internet past midnight and not have KH nag. I could have a decent complete meal with adult conversation without having to cut up meat for a little one or referee a fight.
Did I miss the children? Yes, in that I wished I could share my experience, let them see what I am seeing as well. Hence my videos at Tsukiji and Honke Bankyu. (To add, when Gillian saw the videos, she said my narration made it seem as if I was narrating to them there and then - as indeed was the case. I wanted to show them exactly what I was seeing) But at the same time, I relished my freedom from the mummy role. Does that make me a bad mummy? Or am I sending myself on another self-imposed guilt trip? Maybe there is a time and space for life to happen and maybe now at this point in my life, this is where I would like to be. Could there be room for all my roles? I would like to think so.
When I left Disney to venture into Tokyo and further, all I felt was a sense of confidence and familiarity - I knew how to navigate the train ticket machines with ease, I could find my way to the hotel and check in with no problems. The fear, the trepidation, apprehension - all vanished. Even a drunk lurching towards me at the hotel reception did not faze me - the savvy staff of the Villa Fontaine caught him a quick second before he could sway onto me.
Yes, I wished I had someone to talk to at times, or marvel at the scenery together, or soak in the ambience at the Honke Bankyu, a setting so ripe for romance. And certainly, when my shoulders ached and the backpack felt too heavy, how I wished KH was there.
And of course, there was the dilemma of photo-taking. No one to take photos of me. Or I of them. In Disney, with a princess for company, I took many pictures. Of her. But on my own, there was nobody. I resorted to putting on a smile, sign language and asking strangers to take my picture - with the train, next to a town mascot, in a bus. They always did. Bemused that I was travelling alone but gamely obliging. I always returned the favor though and volunteered to take pictures for them. And when there was no one around, I did the loony thing and took my own self-portraits.
All that aside, I don't think I was ever homesick or oppressively lonely and longing for company. How could I, when there were the long train rides where I wrote in my journal, listened to music, ate onigiri, drank Coke and looked out the window and just day-dreamed?
Perhaps being alone, after being surrounded by noise and movement and activity in my large family day after day, was like manna to one who had not known she was hungry? I said before that I think Japan is a place well-suited for solitude, as if there was a sense of deep loneliness that I found familiar, that appealed to me. And so it was. Being alone did not feel alien or frightening. Instead, I enjoyed it greatly, navigating my way around and making my own decisions. At times I felt so free as if I could just soar, and perhaps, never come back.
I feel like I came into my own skin back in Japan. Its another part of me I never thought I'd be brave enough to find. Included now, with my other identities as mother and wife and worker drone, is now a sense of newfound independence as a traveler. And rather like an addict, trapped in the rush of sensations of a trip, so have I too been caught up in the seductiveness of solo travel. Like a really bad itch, I long to do this again. And now, back in the humdrum of everyday life, I miss it greatly.
I want to write about my trip to Japan a month ago - feels like a lifetime ago already. But I've still got some commercial stuff to sort out so specific trip reports will take a bit longer to post.
For now though, I'd just like to put some thoughts down on my solo travel adventure.
The very first trip I took on my own was when I was 21, on a flight to Melbourne. I stayed there for a month with my aunt who became like a second mother to me. So does that count as solo travel? Not quite right?
Since then, every trip I've taken has been with my KH - best pal and other half - who has taken very good care of me on all our trips. When I consider that he's the guy who writes up the packing list, packs our backpacks and does our laundry, I wonder if I should just pack him in my luggage with me. But then again, he's also the same guy with whom I've had some memorable rip-roaring fights on those trips too. Never a dull moment!
But now, it looked like I would be on my own in Japan. For two days after the Disney junket, I would be alone. It was only two days. Big deal right? But to me, it was a big scary deal. I had not done this alone before. I had not gone on a business trip, let alone a solo trip. No one to talk to, no one to remind me of the essentials (like my meds, as KH always faithfully does) and no one to share my mistakes and wrong turns.
You'll be okay, KH reassured me. You know Japan. You know your way around.
He kept telling me that until 5am that rainy morning when I left the house for the airport. I left with a big stone in my chest - one loaded half with fear and half with exhilaration.
Luckily, I travelled with a nice bunch of reporters and I had a long-lost friend to catch up with. Helped me feel more grounded and a lot safer. The Disney portion helped ease me into solo travel.
For once, I had a whole room to myself. I could soak in the tub for as long as I liked after a day of walking in the parks and I did not have to contend with kids chasing me out for their own soaking! I could surf the internet past midnight and not have KH nag. I could have a decent complete meal with adult conversation without having to cut up meat for a little one or referee a fight.
Did I miss the children? Yes, in that I wished I could share my experience, let them see what I am seeing as well. Hence my videos at Tsukiji and Honke Bankyu. (To add, when Gillian saw the videos, she said my narration made it seem as if I was narrating to them there and then - as indeed was the case. I wanted to show them exactly what I was seeing) But at the same time, I relished my freedom from the mummy role. Does that make me a bad mummy? Or am I sending myself on another self-imposed guilt trip? Maybe there is a time and space for life to happen and maybe now at this point in my life, this is where I would like to be. Could there be room for all my roles? I would like to think so.
When I left Disney to venture into Tokyo and further, all I felt was a sense of confidence and familiarity - I knew how to navigate the train ticket machines with ease, I could find my way to the hotel and check in with no problems. The fear, the trepidation, apprehension - all vanished. Even a drunk lurching towards me at the hotel reception did not faze me - the savvy staff of the Villa Fontaine caught him a quick second before he could sway onto me.
Yes, I wished I had someone to talk to at times, or marvel at the scenery together, or soak in the ambience at the Honke Bankyu, a setting so ripe for romance. And certainly, when my shoulders ached and the backpack felt too heavy, how I wished KH was there.
And of course, there was the dilemma of photo-taking. No one to take photos of me. Or I of them. In Disney, with a princess for company, I took many pictures. Of her. But on my own, there was nobody. I resorted to putting on a smile, sign language and asking strangers to take my picture - with the train, next to a town mascot, in a bus. They always did. Bemused that I was travelling alone but gamely obliging. I always returned the favor though and volunteered to take pictures for them. And when there was no one around, I did the loony thing and took my own self-portraits.
All that aside, I don't think I was ever homesick or oppressively lonely and longing for company. How could I, when there were the long train rides where I wrote in my journal, listened to music, ate onigiri, drank Coke and looked out the window and just day-dreamed?
Perhaps being alone, after being surrounded by noise and movement and activity in my large family day after day, was like manna to one who had not known she was hungry? I said before that I think Japan is a place well-suited for solitude, as if there was a sense of deep loneliness that I found familiar, that appealed to me. And so it was. Being alone did not feel alien or frightening. Instead, I enjoyed it greatly, navigating my way around and making my own decisions. At times I felt so free as if I could just soar, and perhaps, never come back.
I feel like I came into my own skin back in Japan. Its another part of me I never thought I'd be brave enough to find. Included now, with my other identities as mother and wife and worker drone, is now a sense of newfound independence as a traveler. And rather like an addict, trapped in the rush of sensations of a trip, so have I too been caught up in the seductiveness of solo travel. Like a really bad itch, I long to do this again. And now, back in the humdrum of everyday life, I miss it greatly.
Hanami and the beach
Last night, minutes before 4300 Krisflyer points were about to expire forever, KH and I booked our business class tickets to Osaka for April 2011. In celebration of our 20th wedding anniversary together, I think the theme for Japan in 2011 will be flowers and romance. Nice? I shall have to plan an itinerary centred around that. And for once, for me at least, we will travel in style - frog in a well that I am, I have never sat in Business class so I am excited about that.
We booked only the first leg of the journey leaving our options for the return trip wide open for now. We could go deeper into central Honshu to explore Kamikochi, Takayama, the Japanese alps and the Kiso Valley. Or explore the backroads of Shikoku and the islands of the Seto-Naikai National Park by car. Or wend our way up the northern coast towards Niigata, and the Tohoku region, ending in a loop back at Tokyo. We are also toying with the possibility of flying from Japan to Beijing and then returning from there.
So that will be something to look forward to. I am already gleefully anticipating the planning!
But for now, in the immediate future, there will be good old Malaysia for us in a couple of weeks from now. This time we are headed for Tioman where we will join Rita and her brood at the Paya Beach Resort. The kids are very excited to vaca with the Tans again after having a blast in Tokyo Disney with them a couple of years ago. We will be driving the usual Malacca-KL-Kuantan route, looping down to Tioman and then home.
Can't wait.
We booked only the first leg of the journey leaving our options for the return trip wide open for now. We could go deeper into central Honshu to explore Kamikochi, Takayama, the Japanese alps and the Kiso Valley. Or explore the backroads of Shikoku and the islands of the Seto-Naikai National Park by car. Or wend our way up the northern coast towards Niigata, and the Tohoku region, ending in a loop back at Tokyo. We are also toying with the possibility of flying from Japan to Beijing and then returning from there.
So that will be something to look forward to. I am already gleefully anticipating the planning!
But for now, in the immediate future, there will be good old Malaysia for us in a couple of weeks from now. This time we are headed for Tioman where we will join Rita and her brood at the Paya Beach Resort. The kids are very excited to vaca with the Tans again after having a blast in Tokyo Disney with them a couple of years ago. We will be driving the usual Malacca-KL-Kuantan route, looping down to Tioman and then home.
Can't wait.
Back to Japan... sooner than I thought!
Heading back to Japan sooner than I thought. I feel very thrilled and privileged to be invited by JNTO to be part of their media trip to Tokyo Disney Resort. We will get a go at the brand new Monsters Inc. ride in Disneyland. When I went last November, the queue for Monsters Inc stretched to 4 hours, to our dismay and disappointment! We had to skip this - who could queue 4 hours? So I am glad to be able to try the ride out now. KH is green with envy because he thinks I won't even have to queue - yes the perks of being part of a media group!
Also in the itinerary, a look at the beautifully themed (and very upmarket)Miracosta Hotel at Disney Sea) and a backroom look at the new Cirque du Soleil show in Tokyo Disney Resort.
I plan to extend my stay in Japan for a couple of days because no visit to Japan is complete without a dip in an onsen, preferably in a ryokan far from the madding crowd.
It took me a while to find the perfect spot. And this is in the remote valleys of Tochigi prefecture, 3 hours away from Tokyo and one and a half hours away from Nikko. It will take me at least 2 changes of train and bus to get there. What place, KH asked, would be worth the hassle of so many transport connections, just to stay for a night and then repeat the journey the next day in all haste to make the flight home?
I will not say more for now except that it is a very special, unique place among onsen ryokans in Japan. I have tried to search for this in the conventional travel books and come up empty. It promises a very interesting travel accommodation experience. And for me, travel is really all about the experience. So hassle or not, I'd go far to find these experiences.
Also in the itinerary, a look at the beautifully themed (and very upmarket)Miracosta Hotel at Disney Sea) and a backroom look at the new Cirque du Soleil show in Tokyo Disney Resort.
I plan to extend my stay in Japan for a couple of days because no visit to Japan is complete without a dip in an onsen, preferably in a ryokan far from the madding crowd.
It took me a while to find the perfect spot. And this is in the remote valleys of Tochigi prefecture, 3 hours away from Tokyo and one and a half hours away from Nikko. It will take me at least 2 changes of train and bus to get there. What place, KH asked, would be worth the hassle of so many transport connections, just to stay for a night and then repeat the journey the next day in all haste to make the flight home?
I will not say more for now except that it is a very special, unique place among onsen ryokans in Japan. I have tried to search for this in the conventional travel books and come up empty. It promises a very interesting travel accommodation experience. And for me, travel is really all about the experience. So hassle or not, I'd go far to find these experiences.
Japan - some final thoughts
You all know KH has got this thing about the Italian curse - believing that the second time you visit a place would not be as good as the first, and in fact, the trip might be so bad, it would mar all your original memories of the place. Happened to us when we visited Italy for the second time. First time we went, the weather was great, we had surprise experiences that we treasured (like a mass in St Peter's conducted by the late Pope John Paull II), awesome places like Venice, the Cinque Terra etc, great accomodation and food and so on. Second time we went, hoping to re-capture the magic, it all flopped. The weather sucked, the accomodation choices lost their zing. Even places that captured our hearts the first time round, like Siena, seemed to have lost the mojo for us.
So understandably, he was worried about the Italian curse manifesting as the Japanese curse.
I am happy to say that it did not happen that way. In fact, I think this second trip was even better than the first.
1) We covered a great deal more ground, saw more of Japan than we did the first time round. There is a great deal more to Japan than the usual Tokyo-Kyoto circuit. I would really urge travellers to go further afield even though there is plenty to keep one occupied for weeks in these great places alone. I liked that we had time in the great metropolis of Tokyo and Osaka as well as contemplative, quiet time in Koyasan. While we enjoyed the rides in Disney resort, we also enjoyed the rituals we performed at the temples and shrines.
2) Accomodation choices really shone this time. We had such good accomodation, in top-notch places, with prices that did not bust our budget. In many places, we lived really really well. Kokuya, Auberge Watanabe, Hotel Villa Fontaine etc all provided different, unique experiences in their own way. I am glad that we experienced the full range of accomodation choices that Japan had to offer - from hostels to family-run inns, elegant ryokans to business hotels.
3) We visited lots of 5-star sights - Himeji, Itsukushima shrine, the Peace Park in Hiroshima, Okunoin on Koyasan, Kenrokoen in Kanazawa etc.
4) Great unforgettable experiences - onsen and kaiseki in Kokuya, snow in Zenkoji, shojin ryori and our own personal hanare in Koyasan, henro and omikuji in the temples and shrines etc.
5) The weather for the most part, co-operated, except for unpredictable Kyoto weather and the one day it poured in Disneysea. I think, even on hindsight, the wet nasty evening in Kyoto which was the lowest point for me, was an interesting experience. At least, it would be something I would not forget in a hurry! But this is travel isn't it? You take the good with the bad and it all adds up to what makes your trip so unique and interesting.
6) We familiarised ourselves with the train system and the timetables, enough to understand it well enough to optimise our time. By the end of the trip, we'd become savvy enough to hop on and off the shinkansen like it was the Toa Payoh feeder bus.
7) We were lucky enough to grab a very good MAS deal. At S$398 per person, this is still hard to beat. Right now, looking at fares coming out of NATAS, the cheapest is S$559 and even that is far off from the MAS deal.
When we arrived home and did our sums, and wept at our credit card bills, we realised that we had spent the better part of $17,000. But if you think about it - 15 days, a wide range of experiences, great accomodation, train travel, all food and incidental expenses in - for a family of seven! It could not be considered expensive. Especially when I just came from the NATAS fair and saw tour packages of about 6D5N to central Japan going for more than S$2200 per person! Had we taken a conventional tour package, extrapolating from the cost of one of these, it would have easily cost us about S$50,000 and that does not include ALL food/incidental costs either.
So I am very happy to say that we had a great trip, many unforgettable moments, we ate well, slept in lovely places and did not have to take out a second mortgage on my little yellow house for it.
Would I go back to Japan? Yes. Maybe not immediately, but I do want to return. Maybe next time I'd visit the places I didn't get to visit this time - Kamikochi in the Japanese alps, Takayama, Iya valley in Shikoku, Kinosaki Onsen on the Sea of Japan coast, Kusatsu Onsen and so on. I think the next time I go, it will be in spring. Autumn is very beautiful and the red leaves can be dramatic and showy but next time, it will be cherry blossom season and hanami!
The crowds are all heading to Hokkaido and the place is really being promoted at the travel fair. People I meet who say they are going to Japan, all say they are heading for Hokkaido! Don't know about you, but I just dislike heading to a place where the odds of me bumping into another Singaporean are higher than spotting the brown bears of the island. Nope, I'll stick to Honshu or Shikoku or Kyushu for now. I'll leave the pastures of Hokkaido for when the Singaporean crowd dwindles.
But whenever that will be, you can be sure I'll be back!
So understandably, he was worried about the Italian curse manifesting as the Japanese curse.
I am happy to say that it did not happen that way. In fact, I think this second trip was even better than the first.
1) We covered a great deal more ground, saw more of Japan than we did the first time round. There is a great deal more to Japan than the usual Tokyo-Kyoto circuit. I would really urge travellers to go further afield even though there is plenty to keep one occupied for weeks in these great places alone. I liked that we had time in the great metropolis of Tokyo and Osaka as well as contemplative, quiet time in Koyasan. While we enjoyed the rides in Disney resort, we also enjoyed the rituals we performed at the temples and shrines.
2) Accomodation choices really shone this time. We had such good accomodation, in top-notch places, with prices that did not bust our budget. In many places, we lived really really well. Kokuya, Auberge Watanabe, Hotel Villa Fontaine etc all provided different, unique experiences in their own way. I am glad that we experienced the full range of accomodation choices that Japan had to offer - from hostels to family-run inns, elegant ryokans to business hotels.
3) We visited lots of 5-star sights - Himeji, Itsukushima shrine, the Peace Park in Hiroshima, Okunoin on Koyasan, Kenrokoen in Kanazawa etc.
4) Great unforgettable experiences - onsen and kaiseki in Kokuya, snow in Zenkoji, shojin ryori and our own personal hanare in Koyasan, henro and omikuji in the temples and shrines etc.
5) The weather for the most part, co-operated, except for unpredictable Kyoto weather and the one day it poured in Disneysea. I think, even on hindsight, the wet nasty evening in Kyoto which was the lowest point for me, was an interesting experience. At least, it would be something I would not forget in a hurry! But this is travel isn't it? You take the good with the bad and it all adds up to what makes your trip so unique and interesting.
6) We familiarised ourselves with the train system and the timetables, enough to understand it well enough to optimise our time. By the end of the trip, we'd become savvy enough to hop on and off the shinkansen like it was the Toa Payoh feeder bus.
7) We were lucky enough to grab a very good MAS deal. At S$398 per person, this is still hard to beat. Right now, looking at fares coming out of NATAS, the cheapest is S$559 and even that is far off from the MAS deal.
When we arrived home and did our sums, and wept at our credit card bills, we realised that we had spent the better part of $17,000. But if you think about it - 15 days, a wide range of experiences, great accomodation, train travel, all food and incidental expenses in - for a family of seven! It could not be considered expensive. Especially when I just came from the NATAS fair and saw tour packages of about 6D5N to central Japan going for more than S$2200 per person! Had we taken a conventional tour package, extrapolating from the cost of one of these, it would have easily cost us about S$50,000 and that does not include ALL food/incidental costs either.
So I am very happy to say that we had a great trip, many unforgettable moments, we ate well, slept in lovely places and did not have to take out a second mortgage on my little yellow house for it.
Would I go back to Japan? Yes. Maybe not immediately, but I do want to return. Maybe next time I'd visit the places I didn't get to visit this time - Kamikochi in the Japanese alps, Takayama, Iya valley in Shikoku, Kinosaki Onsen on the Sea of Japan coast, Kusatsu Onsen and so on. I think the next time I go, it will be in spring. Autumn is very beautiful and the red leaves can be dramatic and showy but next time, it will be cherry blossom season and hanami!
The crowds are all heading to Hokkaido and the place is really being promoted at the travel fair. People I meet who say they are going to Japan, all say they are heading for Hokkaido! Don't know about you, but I just dislike heading to a place where the odds of me bumping into another Singaporean are higher than spotting the brown bears of the island. Nope, I'll stick to Honshu or Shikoku or Kyushu for now. I'll leave the pastures of Hokkaido for when the Singaporean crowd dwindles.
But whenever that will be, you can be sure I'll be back!
Day 15 Tokyo and home!
Last day in Japan!
Woke up to another great blue-sky day, which made me feel even more regretful that its my last in Japan. The buffet brekkie in the Villa Fontaine was really good value. It was packed with travelling business people. But at a table near ours, I thought I detected a familiar accent!
We wanted to take a quick walk to Hama Rikyu koen, just at the back of the hotel, across the road. We in fact made it as far as out of the hotel, right down to the cross junction with Hama Rikyu beckoning tantalisingly close across the road, before we decided we just didn't have enough time. But note to self - next visit to Tokyo, the Villa Fontaine will be my accomodation of choice again and this time, I will visit Hama Rikyu and also the famed Tsukiji Fish Market, 15 minutes away on foot. From Villa Fontaine, we checked out and were soon walking back towards 
Shinbashi JR station. It was a weekend so the place was deserted - very similar to the ghost town that Shenton Way and our CBD turns into over the weekends. The black-suited penguins that hibernate in their glass cubes in the sky were nowhere to be seen. Shiodome felt abandoned and a bit depressing Or maybe that's just how I felt walking away, slowing leaving Japan by inches.
Shinbashi JR station. It was a weekend so the place was deserted - very similar to the ghost town that Shenton Way and our CBD turns into over the weekends. The black-suited penguins that hibernate in their glass cubes in the sky were nowhere to be seen. Shiodome felt abandoned and a bit depressing Or maybe that's just how I felt walking away, slowing leaving Japan by inches. 
Getting back to Tokyo station and taking the Narita Express was easy. We used our JR Pass for the last time. I sat looking out as the train zoomed past, as if in a visual rewind, the ferro-concrete grey blocks of buildings, the unlit neon signs, then fields where kids were playing baseball, rivers and bridges, then bamboo groves, rice fields, red-bibbed Jizo on the road shoulder and all too soon, Narita airport. Yes, can you tell? I was SAD. Only cheered up at the duty-free when I bought a box of mentaiko which was carefully packed in dry ice and insulation! Note: I have eaten half the mentaiko and every bite is bliss. The other half, I am slo-owly savouring knowing that, as with this trip report, once its over, its really over.
The plane ride was greeted with less boisterous excitement than before - perhaps everyone was feeling a bit down at going back home. The holiday was over. As usual, once on board, the kids were glued to the in-flight entertainment system so it was not difficult to keep them occupied.
We transited in KLIA for three hours which allowed us to grab some dinner. Too bad the food was overpriced and subpar (and I think I am being kind in describing it thus). We could not stomach paying RM16 for a plate of wonton mee which we could easily have gotten in the heart of KL for RM3 and at far better standards too!! What a rip-off. Settled for fast food but even that was like sawdust and cardboard. Either our tastebuds were spoiled after 15 days in Japan, or KLIA food was really an overpriced excuse for crappy food. Combination of both, probably.
Arrived in Singapore late, past midnight and took separate cabs home. The night was warm, so different from the crisp coolness that Japan had. Tigerlily greeted us with a meow. Home smells... familiar and comfortable! It always feels good to be home.
But how I wish home was somewhere in Japan!
Day 14 Miyajima and Tokyo
Last day in Japan! Woke up to fogged up windows, a sea of scarlet and gold leaves across the road, the murmur of water, a great breakfast and regret. I felt sad to leave Auberge Watanabe after being so well taken care of. Yuki and Shigeo had been very kind to us and we were sorry to leave. I also felt sad to leave Miyajima - I'm glad we decided to splurge out and stay the night. More than that, I knew that our trip was certainly coming to an end with Tokyo in sight for the night and our flight home waiting for us the next day.
We left our bags in Auberge Watanabe and walked across the creek to Daisho-in. Unlike many other temples we've been to, Daisho-in had a very comfortable air of being well-used - like a neighbourhood parish church instead of say, the town cathedral. Instead of being elegant and reverential, it bordered on the quirky, whimsical and cheeky.
For one, even before we passed through the big gate, we were already charmed by the tiny stone statues of little bald monks in varying playful poses scattered throughout the grounds. These impish little guys were sleeping, praying, grinning, dressed as a samurai, practising kung-fu, sitting, meditating, holding gold ingots and so on. The kids had a nice time running around looking for ever more of these cute little statues. I think we found easily more than 50 of these scattered everywhere - under bushes, beside paths, next to gurgly streams, on a bed of moss and so on.
Even the many sub-temples on the grounds were more fun, like a huge gathering of every Buddhist saint and deity under the sun, in various little houses. I thought it was fitting that Daisho-in was like a summary of all the temples and all the things we did at the temples throughout Japan this trip. So we got the omikuji (in English!), rang the huge temple bell for blessings, ran up and down stairs to twirl the Buddhist sutras for luck, doused the Jizos for the last time, ran the entire 88-temple Shikoku pilgrimage in one hall, said a silent prayer at the Kobo Daishi sub-temple, descended to the bowels of the main hall in another attempt to 'gain enlightenmight' or good luck - whichever works best! And of course, I got my lovely henro!
I also got to say a nice goodbye to Miyajima, fittingly, high up on Daisho-in in front of Kobo Daishi's shrine, where the hills of Miyajima spread around and the silver glints of the sea a little beyond.Down from Daisho-in, we collected our bags and said goodbye to the good people at Watanabe. Shigeo was kind enough to give us a lift in his MPV down to Omotesando. There, we bought a typical Miyajima souvenir - momiji manju - soft buns shaped like maple leaves with filling inside. I liked the one with chunks of apple filling while the kids gravitated to the chocolate and cream cheese filling.
We also chanced upon a stall selling skewers of deepfried 'fishcake'. Particularly loved the prawn and veggie mix. It was so good the kids were clamouring for more. Had to go back and buy about two more skewers.
Back on the mainland, we retraced our steps to Hiroshima station, collected our bags from the lockers and took the shinkansen back to Shin-Osaka. From there, we changed shinkansen to one heading back to Tokyo. By this time, we had grown a lot savvier about shinkansen-hopping without the need for reservations, managing to find the right platform, the right carriage (non-smoking! Lesson learned after choking for more than half an hour on two separate occasions where we ended up in the smoking car!) right down to the right door. We could have taken the shinkansen from Okayama, several stops earlier than Shin-Osaka, but figured that Shin-Osaka being the busier station, we would have more chance at getting seats.
And we were right! Shin Osaka was a lot busier than Okayama but being early at the head of the queue meant we could get our choice seats. The work day was clearly ending by then as hordes of commuters also crammed on board the shinkansen. It was so packed that people were standing in the aisles - pretty much like a town bus or a commuter train - except that this was the shinkansen and the commute was a 2-hour journey all the way back to Tokyo!
So passed our last evening in Japan with the day's dying light casting long shadows on the platforms of Shin-Osaka. We passed the two hours napping, talking, eating. The crowd on the train never got less.
By the time we got to Tokyo station, it was night. But the place, the nexus of train transport in the city, was still buzzing with commuters hurrying off to their appointments. From Tokyo, we hopped on the Yamanote line two stops down to Shinbashi station. From there, we walked about 10 minutes to our hotel. We walked on a raised pedestrain walkway that led us beneath the Yurikamome monorial line and through the heart of Tokyo's futuristic city, Shiodome, encircled by towers of glass.
KH and the kids were wondering what kind of posh hotel I was leading them to since this area of Tokyo clearly looked expensive. I had a nice chuckle to myself since the Hotel Villa Fontaine is a nice, value-for-money find. I enjoyed watching their jaws drop as they saw the sprawling marble lobby and the soaring atrium. I could see the calculator ticking in KH's head! But in truth, the hotel offered decent-size, comfortable business-class rooms in a fantastic location at a fraction of the cost of its neighbour hotels in the same locality. It was great value and unlike other business hotels, also included a buffet breakfast in the price.
Lobby of the Hotel Villa FontaineOnce the kids had gotten over their excitement and KH's jaw had been lifted off the ground, we dropped our bags off and headed out for dinner. We backtracked back to Shinbashi station. Lots of action going on there with a lively nightlife and restaurant culture. Packed into tiny slots beneath the JR tracks are smoky bars and izakaya filled with penguins (the black-suited corporate warriors) of nearby Ginza having a post-work drink. It was very atmospheric and I wish we could have walked around more but stomachs were growling and the natives were restless.
We settled on a small izakaya filled with locals, the red lanterns outside the door giving a welcoming glow. We were led upstairs to a small room with low tables. As usual, we had to take off our shoes and were shown to a low table with cushions next to a window. On the menu - DIY BBQ with salad, different cuts of chicken, pork and beef. The grill was on the table. The waiter could speak some English and could produce an English menu! The other tables in the room were filled and the sizzle of the grill and the smoke of cooking meats filled the air. The mood was quite festive.
This being our last night in Japan, we decided to splurge it. It was a great meal, memorable because it tasted good and was a novel experience. It also ended up costing us more than S$250!! But okay, no regrets!
As with the end of all wonderful trips, I felt wistful and nostalgic on the last night. I hadn't even left and yet I felt like I already had. We walked back, satisfied and bellies filled. The night air was cool and the lights and neon of Ginza glittered. We were in the heart of Tokyo's (perhaps the world's) most expensive bit of real estate, nestled in a future city of steel and glass. What a nice way to end the trip - looking to the future. It would not be the end, I reminded myself, just as I did two years ago on the Narita Express heading back to the airport. I will look towards the future and plan for a day when I would come back.
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