Japanese Castles and Japanese - erm, horse.

We started our day with an 'American style' breakfast - Joshie more than a little impressed it included toast. Part of the morning involved catching up on the washing (with only 3 sets of clothes each - this becomes reasonably important in short order) as well as watching a 20 minute program on how to make noises blowing on leaves - riveting stuff.

Once we set off for the day (and a cold and windy one it was) - we located Matsumoto-jo (Matsumoto Castle) in virtually no time due to our brush with it the night before. It is Japan's oldest wooden castle - and ranks as one of the most culturally significant in Japan.

Matsumoto-jo

We were making our way around the gardens to the entrance (someone put a great big moat in the road), when we were stopped by an elderly Japanese gentleman, who enquired whether we spoke english. His face lit up when we said we were from Australia, and started talking about the Goodwill Guide Group (who give free tours of the Castle).

While a little on the fence about locking ourselves in to a tour (even if it was on an individual basis), our desire not to inflict hurt on this old guy decided it for us. He was great - and was able to point out many of the cosy features of the castle, including murder holes as well as openings to fire both guns and bows & arrows from. There is a hidden third floor (low roof, no windows) just above the second roof-line. While not entirely certain, our guide thought it would have been a nifty place to hide some Samurai. We had to carry our shoes in bags, as we would be leaving through another door at the end (I just hoped it wasn't via a trap door into the moat), which made negotiating the over 400 year old stairs even more challenging. They essentially became ladders at the higher levels - even having a designated 'catcher' (a burly looking bloke stationed at the foot of the steepest of the stairs). We made it to the top (either the 5th or 6th floor depending on who you ask), and the stiff breeze experienced at the foot of the castle was more like a wind-tunnel at this height.

On the way back down, our guide pointed out the 'ritual disemboweling room' (I was getting worried they didn't have one...). This delightful place would be used by the local Lord should his castle ever fall. Fortunately, the place never fell (as it is pretty impregnable), so the room is still in minty-fresh condition.

Up on the top floor of Matsumoto-jo.

After farewelling our Guide (who gifted the kids some paper cranes), we picked up a miniature samurai helmet for Hamish and a paper lantern for Lily from the local souvenir shop. We also sought out some lunch (preferably out of the icy gusts slamming into us at each cross-street). We managed to track down a bakery-cafe and polished off an alarming/impressive amount of pastry.

Matsumoto-jo - now, with bright red bridge!

The sun poked its head out,
giving everything a cheerier aspect.

We called into a Laundromat and then into a Starbucks while we waited for our final lot of clothes to dry. I picked up a kids comic called Doraemon (Japan's most loved cartoon character), as it was the only thing in english I could find. I'm pretty sure the guy behind the counter checked I had kids before deciding I mightn't be as nutty as first appeared.

We were back to our Ryokan in plenty of time for dinner, which (on this occasion) would be served in our room. Things were going to plan until they brought out the entrees.

I thought I heard the word 'horse'.

Looking down at some very thinly sliced, raw meat that was clearly not fish - I doubted myself. Surely not.

We said 'nay' to the 'neigh'.

There - I heard it again. Horse sashimi (also known as basashi).

Waiting for the lovely folk to leave us, I managed to get a quiet word to Jen, who had not heard what the ladies had said. Getting a quiet word to someone in a single room is tricky, but we managed without alerting the drama-prone Martin children. All of the other unusual dishes on the table suddenly became warm and familiar in comparison.

We piked - there was just no way it was going to happen.

So we did what any other rational pair of adults would do in a situation like this - we hid the meat in other dishes, bowls, anywhere we could find really. Smiling and nodding at the lovely folk as they took away our partially-unfinished meals, we sat and rocked, and ate some Pocky. I think we just experienced the outer rim of our comfort zone.

Tomorrow sees us take a look at the historically-rich Kiso Valley, and then on to Takayama for the evening. It will be good to get back in the saddle again....

..sorry.

Art, Fuji and the GPS Lady strikes again!

Leaving Lalaca Ryokan, we reversed out onto the goat track with the unrequired assistance of the lovely staff, before plugging in the coordinates for the Hakone Open Air Museum on the good old GPS Lady.

Stopping exaggeratedly at a small railway crossing along the way, we came to what appeared to be a very limited parking space for the outdoor Art Museum. After some failed attempts at gaining entry to the place, we resorted to pantomiming to someone inside the large fence that we would very much like to get in. Their emphatic hand gesturing led us to believe we were nowhere near the main entrance. Our 10 minute journey past some surprised workers on their smoke-break through a gritty loading dock seemed to confirm this. Thanks GPS Lady.

Bison - with gawkers

Hakone Open Air Museum hosts a number of art pieces by Henry Moore (of Reclining Figure fame), as well as some joker called Pablo Picasso (amongst many others). Lily was dramatically aghast at the presence of nude statues - which didn't bode well, given Mr Picasso's fondness for the ladies.

Henry Moore - a fan of lying down apparently.

Some fortunately interaction-friendly eggs.

Cry me a river...or small manicured pool.

The number of exhibits on display was enormous, and the outdoor nature of the place meant I could take a break from the pre-emptive 'shooshing' that normally accompanies a visit to an art gallery (or any enclosed space for that matter).

The Hand of God

I call this Large-boned lady with poor fashion sense.

Woods of Net in the background
with a Joan Miro piece in the foreground.

The Martin kiddies were big fans of an art piece specifically designed for children under 12. It was called Woods of Net, and featured some vividly-coloured netting suspended from an outer shell of giant timber sleepers. It was a hit.

Woods of Net appears Martin-proof

We managed to avoid toddler-collisions or tanties - on the main.

Upon our departure, Hamish tested the honesty of the Japanese population by leaving his camera in the gents. Fortunately, their reputation remains intact - as the camera was sitting there waiting for him. Collective sighs of relief abounded.

A nude-free view of the Museum for your viewing pleasure.

All cultured-up, we set our sights on Mt Fuji and to that end, called into an Information Centre (and MOS Burgers) at Fuji Yoshida. The cola beverages at MOS had just a hint of overly-fragrant soap about them, and we also gained the company of an elderly gent who decided to take the table adjoining ours (read: 15 cm away) - in an otherwise empty restaurant. Odd - very odd.

In our quest to catch an identifiable photo of Mt Fuji whilst on the road, Jenny showed remarkable patience/endurance in weathering the steady stream of photographic suggestions coming from the drivers seat.

Fuji from the Freeway

The socially-phobic Mountain from the shore of Lake Kawaguchi.
Joshie declared himself 'Taller than Fuji!', whilst perched on a small rock.

Aware of the time, we entered the Ryokan at Matsumoto's phone number into the GPS (a gaijin-friendly way of setting coordinates). While it was getting late, our GPS Lady confidently guided us ever onwards. Hours later, she informed us we had reached our destination - it appeared we had done no such thing. While conveniently-close to Matsumoto Castle (and what appeared to be some Government buildings), we were on the opposite side of the city to our intended destination. It was now dark, our internet connection was misbehaving - and I could swear I could hear chortling coming from that nasty GPS minx. We ended up doing it the old-fashioned way: Combining Jen's iPhone and my Netbook (such survivalists), as well as some door-knocking on Jen's part, we tracked down Kikunoyu Ryokan.

A little frazzled, we were not in the best state of mind to appreciate tiny fish crammed full of couscous-like roe, or what appeared to be algae found in a billabong (long, cold, dark green and hairlike). After dinner, we celebrated Halloween in our own way - by stocking up on some Yebitsu and chocolate (Kit-Kats, Pocky and something called Crunky) at the corner shop. Watching the Nippon-Ham Fighters (Sapporo's own!) down the Yokohama Giants on TV while consuming our goodies, things started looking up.

Funiculars, Ropeways and Piratey Ferries.

We wandered down our goat-track to Gora Station, which boasts both a standard railway line as well as a funicular line (cable-railway up a steep incline - thanks Google) up to Sounzan Station. From here, we transferred to a Ropeway - this one stretched delightfully over the top of a vast gorge crammed full of sulfurous vents (I'm pretty sure I saw a sign saying Hades this way down there somewhere). We got out at Owakudani Station, with Lily gleefully enquiring whether I enjoyed that last section.

Suspended above a valley of erupting sulfurous vapour?
Sign me up.

We popped out onto the western balcony of Owakudani Station and managed to catch a glimpse of Mt Fuji (or part thereof). Not bad considering the day was reasonably cloudy.

Mt Fuji - well, a bit of it.

After displaying some embarrassing levels of enthusiasm over this partial-sighting, we made our way up the stinky mountain-side to the east of the station. There was a reasonably-sized kiosk/restaurant perched there that we temporarily sated Joshies desire for pancakes in. Outside - in the icy, sulfurous winds racing across the mountain-top was a Hello Kitty dressed as a black-boiled egg. 

Obviously. 

Even Hello Kitty loves sulfur-vent boiled eggs.

We boarded the next Ropeway to make our way down to the shores of Lake Ashi - where we were greeted by some rather unique ferries. If Disney was looking for some completely over-the-top-cheerful Pirate ships, they would have found them on Lake Ashi. The wide expanse of water conveniently allowed the icy winds to blast us in an uninterrupted fashion, leaving us with a rather tousled look.

I'm pretty sure I saw Mickey Mouse at the wheel.

Our vessel -
a fearsome mint-green with gold trimmings.

Random Torii on the shore of Lake Ashi.

Our ever-so subtle Ferry.

We disembarked at Hakone Machi-ko, and took a 20 minute walk to Moto Hakone-ko (essentially the next bay along), before jumping on an even more flamboyant Pirate-ferry for the return leg.

Hakone-jinja Shrine

Mt Fuji remained just as elusive on our way back over the mountain, but we managed to strike up a conversation with a gentleman from the Kansai region (captive audience I guess).

The bigger kids had their first Onsen tonight (we booked a private, family room - prudes that we are) and I got to watch In the Nightgarden with Joshie... They came back looking very pink and enthused. We set off for Mt Fuji in the morning, and then on to Matsumoto in the afternoon.

From the Abyss to the Alps

We rose at around 6:30am (local time) to take a look at the Jizo statues (Buddhist protectors of travellers and kiddies) that lined the banks of the Gamman-Ga-Fuchi Abyss - a mountain stream carving its way through an ancient lava flow. 

With the benefit of sunlight, the stream took on the overly-bluish hue that you get from glacial-melt waters. Why the Jizo frequently wore red bibs and beanies is beyond me, I would have thought they'd be more concerned about their severe case of moss (so embarrassing). Like many other travellers, we left some coins in the laps of a few Jizo for good luck.

Legend has it that if you count the statues heading one way, and then count them coming back - the numbers will change, implying some spooky other-worldliness goings-on. I'm going with poor maths and middle-aged short-term memory personally.

Way more Jizo than I could count without taking my shoes off.

Morning sun peeking through the misty trees.
Joshie undoubtedly racing towards a nearby puddle.

After breakfast, the lady at the Turtle Inn booked us a taxi - and arranged for it to stop briefly to allow me to take a photo or two of Shin-kyo Bridge. Legend has it that Shodo Shonin (founder of the Nikko temple) strolled across a couple of serpents thrown at him by a giant at this location. A bridge certainly sounds much safer. While an attractive bridge and all, my breath was more taken by negotiating the enthusiastic drivers of Nikko (Frogger-style).

If this photo had sound - you may hear the last-minute swerving of Nikko-ites.

We thanked our very-obliging taxi driver (who appeared not to want to upset some clearly crazy, car-dodging  foreigners), and waited for the Nikko Line train. It is in effect similar to a Metro train, but with the added bonus of pink velour seats and a laid-back style.

We allowed ourselves a slightly larger buffer between trains, and made it to the Shinkansen platform at Tokyo Station prior to our departure time. Travelling on these things is reminiscent of sitting on a plane just seconds before it lifts off. My assumption is that if you slapped a couple of wings on them they would do just that. 

We picked up our car (another blue Mazda 3 - to Joshie's delight) at Mishima, readjusted the child seat behind me a little (so my knees were no longer covering my ears) and plugged in the coordinates of Lalaca, Hakone into the GPS like seasoned professionals. Jenny felt it best that I didn't follow some faint grey lines (or as I termed them, 'short-cuts') so we wound our way through some fairly impressive hair-pins. My passengers informed me that they were able to catch glimpses of Mount Fuji - and that it looked lovely (and I was ever-so happy for them).

Our GPS Lady steered us on unfailingly, but we had our doubts on the final corner when she advised us to head down what appeared to be a goat-track. It turns out it was a fern-lined lane-way, and Lalaca Onsen appeared. Once inside, I wedged the front half of my foot into the house-slippers provided, and we settled into our room.

As we were prepping Joshie to say 'arigato' in thanks to the people in the restaurant - he one-upped us by responding with 'arigato go zai mas' (adding an honourific to the thanks). The kid's a sponge apparently.

Dinner consisted of sashimi starters, Japanese BBQ, Shabu Shabu, Tempura and finished with some grape mousse. The jelly-fish on the sashimi plate may have been a step too far outside our comfort zone, but the rest was really lovely (although I'm still wondering exactly what kind of meat I had that was not exactly ham or beef.... I'd better stop thinking about that now).

H2Nikko

Upon walking home through the back-streets of Nikko last night after an awesome Chinese meal (Sui-en, we love you), we could hear the rushing of water underneath the stone alleyways - presumably from many of the homes boasting hot springs. The place was also over-supplied in some serious drainage (storm-drains on steroids, and guttering about a foot deep).

This minor mystery was answered by sheets of rain that started overnight and have not stopped for the entire day. The many Bhuddist-Shinto religious sites are clearly outdoors in nature - so you can see the dilemma. Grabbing some umbrellas generously provided by the good folk at the Turtle Inn, we donned our glamorous rain jackets and stepped out into the dampest day we've seen in Japan.

Whether it was the early hour, or the fact that we were largely underwater - we had the first of the series of Shrines to ourselves.

We approached the Chozuya (which is a spring-fed stone basin), and undertook the purification ritual of rinsing our hands before proceeding, like seasoned professionals. As I had a backpack under my rain-jacket (taking on an alarmingly-convincing impression of the Hunchback of Notre Dame), I opted out of many of the photos.

Chozuya - because we needed more water.

We came across this place in a large alcove of bedrock.
The rain misting through the trees not entirely unpleasant.

By the time we reached Tosho-gu Shrine, the buses had arrived. Forests of umbrellas sprung up, and queues began to form (oh you wacky Japanese and your queues). I noted one bus-tour consisting entirely of middle-aged Chinese ladies, none surpassing five foot tall. Their steely determination in getting to their next stop had me leaping out of their way (dragging a dancing Hamish - who was enjoying twirling his umbrella around with no regard for personal space).

We came to the Tosho-gu Shrine's sacred stable, above which is a fairly intricate carving of monkeys cavorting about. By far the most famous section is one of the Three Wise Monkeys (hear no, speak no, see no evil) - which is actually quite small in comparison to the gargantuan buildings.

A Martin take on a simian carving
(imagine a line of local tourists to the left, all rolling their eyes)

In a wooded and (apparently) moist environment, moss festoons everywhere. It seemed particularly fond of the stone lanterns, some even had some small trees starting to grow out the top of them (their electrician ought to be shot).

The Rinzo (odd place for a library if you ask me)
and some mossy stone lanterns

There was no doubting that the place was impressive - beautiful even on a drab, wet day. Joshie was soaked to mid-thigh (largely due to him making a bee-line to any puddle in his vicinity) and consequently chilled to the bone in the relatively low temperatures. We forwent the Shinkyo Bridge and the Ganman-ga-fuchi Pools, retiring to our accommodation to thaw out and attempt to dry some clothes. The plan is to see both the Bridge and the Pools first thing tomorrow, prior to moving on to Hakone. On the way back, we stumbled onto a lovely (and completely deserted) Shinto grove. Somehow, this impressed us more than all the opulence of the larger Shrines. The two bigger kids starting belting out 'Buy me a pony' by Spiderbait - which I dare say is infrequently sung whilst roaming your typical Nikko laneways.

A small, secluded Shinto grove.

On the road again...(and rail, tarmac, and monorail)

We woke early and made our way back to Sapporo Station for the final time after breakfast (goo-free). It was going to be a long day, but the sun was out and our spirits high.

Sapporo Station

We reserved some seats on the JR line, and trained it to New Chitose Airport where we gratefully booked our larger packs in. The flight to Haneda was reasonably uneventful - surprising, with Lily and Hamish seated next to each other. They were in hysterics over a camera mounted on the front of the plane (showing ground crew going about their business) - which they called 'the spy camera'. 

From Haneda Airport (Domestic Terminal), we took the Shuttle Bus over to the International Terminal - as this was the only spot we could pick up a new JR Pass (East) - which we cannot do without. After reserving some seats with a JR lady (who was convinced we'd get lost) we jumped on the Monorail (truly, the future is now!) to Hamamatsucho Station. From here, we weaved/stumbled our way to the JR Line taking us to Tokyo station. We almost lost Lily at this point, as she jumped on an outbound train just as the doors were closing. Not all of us were going to make it (2 year olds make pretty good anchors) - so I managed to yank her back out by her backpack, just as the doors closed. Precious minutes ticked by as we waited for the next train. 

We rushed on as it arrived, trained it to Tokyo Station, and then fought against the surges of humanity (as well as a couple of guys scrubbing the station floor by hand during peak-hour) and made it to our Shinkansen with approximately 4 minutes to spare. 

Staring at each other incredulously that we'd actually made it, the bullet train absolutely blasted along the tracks, but slowed down sufficiently to allow us off at Utsunomiya Station, where we boarded the very laid back Nikko Line. It was growing dark as we pulled into Nikko - so we avoided a 45-60 minute walk, and taxied it to the Turtle Inn (the guy seemed to understand 'turtle' and 'inn', but that was about it). 

Nikko Station - apparently designed by Frank Lloyd Wright

We pulled up at the Turtle Inn - thanked the Taxi driver, and dragged ourselves inside. After speaking with the confused/polite lady running the place - it turns out that we wanted the Turtle Inn Annex (rookie mistake), so we walked the last few hundred metres in the dark until finally arriving.

Turtle Inn Annex (not to be confused with the Turtle Inn)

Sapporo revisited

We said farewell to our western-style beds and tiled floors and made our way to Hakodate Station. A man selling either Spider Crab or Dried Cuttlefish (hey, what else is there in life?) at a stall lining the footpath decided to high-five each of the kids as we walked past to the Station - they thought they were pret-ty special. I would include Hakodate in any trip to Hokkaido - but I would probably hire a car to get to some of the more out-of-the-way places (and to be able to pop up and down Mt Hakodate at will).

The three hour train journey on the Super Hokudo to Sapporo was exceedingly uneventful (and decidedly lacking in fresh ventilation). We very narrow-mindedly had some Vegemite sandwiches, and they were awesome. The Japanese version of our Supermarket bread is so refined, it would make our white bread appear whole-grained. They have removed not only any trace of a husk, but even the family, friends and work colleagues of said husk - this stuff is smooth down to an atomic level.

Some of the scenery heading north from Hakodate

We stepped out of Sapporo Station into a sunny (albeit frosty) day! The entire mood of the place was transformed. Even the bizarre cuckoo calls for East/West pedestrian signals, and the brooding ravens hanging about everywhere seemed more welcoming.

The Intrepid Explorers

The man we had exchanged gifts with at the Ryokan almost hugged us upon our return. He picked up and carried Joshie (who fortunately was in a 'people' type of mood), chatted about his daughter and walked us to our door. He also explained the reason behind all the emergency folk we had noted upon our return from one of our outings previously. There had been a gas explosion in the cafe below the hotel. How... comforting. We set down our bags and were given a welcoming fruity-bean-paste covered in a jelly-of-some-kind confection. It was lovely, tasting somewhere between a grape and lychee. The kids gagged (fortunately after the nice folk had left).

Making the most of the nice afternoon, we set out for Odori Park (which is actually a series of narrow parks stretching East/West across central Sapporo).

Yes, that is our 2 year old going head-first down a marble chute.
He managed to avoid landing on his face - fortunately.

Playground + major city roads + no safety fencing = anxious Martin parents.

This is the same place that was slate-grey
and verging on sleeting a few days ago.

Sapporo Radio Tower in the background
(think Orange Eiffel Tower with a digital clock on it)

Tomorrow, we catch the train from Sapporo Station to the airport, flying into Tokyo (Haneda Airport), catching a train from there to a mountain township of Nikko -- methinks it shall be a long day. We had been looking forward to returning to the relatively higher temperatures of Honshu, but a guide to Nikko describes its weather as mirroring Hokkaido's (due to its altitude) - awesome.