Drinking from the big box outside City Hall

Another Matsuri? This time we donned our happe coats for our hometown festival. The revelry all began at City Hall. Barrels of sake were ladled into square bowls. 2 by 2 Matsuri team leaders were invited to kind of jump down a line and skull Sake in front of the crowd. Surprisingly we Gaijin (foreigners) were invited too, twice for kicks. More Sake flowed… where else in the world would hundreds of people be freely licensed to get blitzed in from of City Hall? (more…)

My new discovery, Ichigo Daifuku, is oishi oishi oishi. It’s an handmade Japanese sweet, made with sticky mochi, bedded with anko (love it or hate it sweet red beans) and stuffed with a juicy strawberry.

Gassho Zukuri House

The sharp edge of winter dulled and we all smiled. I followed the beacon line of bright pink cherry blossoms on my nana bike. Nestled into north Gifu’s hills I returned to the Gasho Zukuri (praying hands) historical house and calm pond. (I call this place Naomi’s secret spot). When I rode the same path with Roz the week before the irritating sand from China dirtied the air. Not this day. I left my bike and hiked a decent slope to a privileged rocky lookout over all Gifu. I meditated and felt blessed in the new warmth. (more…)

Tejikara Lanterns

We stood facing the Jinja’s arena looking up at next tower. A spark shot up the wire igniting the tower and bursting it to light. The wind kicked up sending the hot sparks showering into the crowd. People crushed backwards to shield from tiny burns, while I pushed forward into their better positions, my head protected by a beanie. The raining fire didn’t let up and set a tree alight. The security (dressed like star wars storm trooper in their white helmets waving light sabres) called over some help and water doused the burning leaves. The same crowd that moments before was showered with sparks was now repelled by water. (more…)

I took Naomi home on the back of my bike. I crossed back over Nagara gawa (river) with my eyes trained on the ethereal, glowing light of Gifu-jo. From the bottom of Kinka-zan (mountain) you’d never care to guess it’s a reconstruction. For once I had my camera.

The price of Fish Fruit

I love fruit, but in Japan, not at these prices.
Rockmelon (ea): 2980yen
Grapefruit (ea): 398yen
Apples (16): 2980yen
Strawberries (12): 1280yen
Betcha Ill see a $50 watermelon before the summer is out
The price of fish on the other hand, if you’re wondering, is about fair.

Tsukiji Fish Markets

I hauled my sleepy bones out of my capsule and caught the subway down to Tsukiji by 6:30am. The fish auctions were bustling long before I woke up but there was still action down at the markets. Motorized delivery carts recklessly honed around corners, whole tuna lay out on benches, live crustaceans, octopus and other fish were been prepared for delivery and packing. It was all pretty full on to be walking amid at 7:00am so after a while I called it breakfast time and slid open the door of one of the sashimi restaurants on the edge of the market. It was the freshest fish I have tasted and the raw flesh literally melted in my mouth in the way chocolate does. Sugoi oishikatta! (more…)

Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil

I’d heard stories about people been squashed onto Tokyo’s subways at peak hour by attendants with planks of wood. I didn’t see any. I got off at Asakusa and met my buddy Tim. We were headed north for the shrines of Nikko.

Nikkos’ history stretches back to the 8th century when the Buddhist Priest Shodo established a hermitage there. But it rose to its grandeur in the 17th century under Tokugawa Iemitsu who built the mausoleum in honour of Tokugawa Ieyasu, a war lord devoted to conquering all Japan. It evokes mixed opinions among Japanese. My impression was that it was of a style more Chinese than Japanese. This would be one reason why Japanese don’t identify their culture and history to the magnificent site.
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Imperial Palace, Tokyo

My Shinkansen hurtled silently towards the pulsing metropolis of Tokyo. I stepped off, admired the stealthy nose of the bullet train, and set off into the city. Only a stones throw away is the royal palace and vast gardens, which are largely off limits. I took the compulsory stroll around, able to glimpse only a corner of the palace itself, styled much like Japans many castles.

My buddy Tim who is now living in Tokyo was laid low by a dodgy fish curry the night before, so I had the day to myself. My self designed walking tour took me from the palace grounds, across the moat and to the national gallery. I’ve seen a little of Japanese art now and I am most impressed by both the power and subtleties some artists can express in a single brush stroke. The best lines seem so natural that they can bring to life a stem of bamboo, a flowers petal, or a swan’s neck so effortlessly.
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I was asleep. ‘Roger its an earthquake!’, Naomi said, shaking me awake. I lay on my back and felt the room rock me back and forth for a few moments. ‘That’s nice’, I said, and I let it gently rock me back to my dreams

It was a nice earthquake, an aftershock from one in Mie prefecture just south of Gifu that was 5.3 and caused no injuries.