We presented our host at Sapporo with a small (and we mean small) gift and his eyes bulged as he nodded reflexively. He then dashed off behind a curtain, leaving us momentarily curious. He soon returned with a traditional Japanese toy called the Kendama (timber cup and ball) to present to us in exchange.
Hiking over to the Sapporo Station, we waved our JR passes and boarded the train to Hakodate. Hakodate was one of the first ports to open to foreign trade - and there are historical relics from Russian and British folk who made the place home. Hugging the coast for the majority of the way south, the three-hour journey gave me plenty of time to ponder some of the things I've noticed whilst in Hokkaido:
- The people here seem to see themselves as from Hokkaido - and not Japan in the first instance. Souvenirs generally just show the northern island on its own.
- Passing through a succession of sea-side towns, there seemed an acceptance for dwellings and machines to decay - I began trying to guess whether certain buildings were abandoned, or just in serious need of a reno.
- In the midst of the rust, the weeds and the (at times) boarded up windows, were vege patches - everywhere. If there was a spare 2 square feet of earth, often just off a major road - there would be some leafy vegetables in orderly rows.
- In lieu of doing something about the house without a roof next door - the folk spend a good deal of attention on uniforms. So starchy and clean - from people sweeping paths, to collecting tickets, to digging holes - they look awesome.
Alighting (that's train talk) from the Hakodate express, a chill but sunny day left us in good spirits (that and the fact that we noted a bakery). We were but 2 blocks from our hotel and passed a just-closing, morning fish market (which was fair enough as it was after 1pm). There were spider crabs in tanks of water everywhere. Even more striking were the flattened/dried whole cuttlefish. All the rage to munch on whilst sipping some local brews apparently.
We arrived at Hotel Danshaku, and made our way to our room. We were momentarily puzzled by the lack of a designated place to remove our shoes as we entered, but realised the whole place was tiled - not a tatami mat to be seen. The surprises just kept coming as we noted beds at least 60cm off the ground, as well as chairs with legs on them.
We let our packs slump satisfyingly to the floor - and then set out for a look about town. Japan may overlook some details in their urban landscape - but will undertake detailed iron-work in manhole covers. Here's an example of Hakodate's fondness for the humble cuttlefish.
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| The dried, flat ones didn't look so happy. |
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| Camera-shy Hamish. |
The temperature (helped downwards by the breeze coming off the water) plummeted as the sun set. After finding that the promisingly titled Beer Factory (advertising large slabs of meat and fried things) was closed despite its advertised opening hours (booo!), we settled on a restaurant called Italian Gogo. It was small and atmospheric (old wine bottles lining shelves, tins of Italian tomatoes, etc), with the menu entirely in Japanese. We established our desire for a pizza or two - and managed to convey one would have ham, and another would have a locally-made sausage. Lily, who is entirely opposed to the concept of pizzas - was staring blankly at a page devoted to pasta - we think. Not really getting anywhere with individual pasta ingredients - I threw out a plaintive carbonara? The guy managed to stifle a snort, nodded and pointed to the second dish on the menu. Our waiter then went behind the counter and became the chef.
It was amazing - some of the nicest Italian food I've had in a long time. Our overt pleasure and gratitude almost embarrassed the poor guy.
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| Quite a pretty spot - and yes - there is an atmosphere here. |
Tomorrow will see Hamish turn 8 (yes I am ancient), and see us travel by rope-way (aka cable car) to the top of the mountain dominating the Hakodate skyline. We will also come up with the closest equivalent to a birthday cake we can find.
