You must be this tall to ride.

We encountered another chatty gent (this time a retiree) on our way to Universal Studios in Osaka. He kept patting Josh on the head and shaking his own in wonderment about our extended break from work (it sounds like they get about a week at best).

I felt fairly smug about my shorts and short-sleeved shirt selection on the train - it was clear skies and an expected 17 degrees. The frosty winds that greeted us at Universal Studios in turn had the rest of my family grinning wryly.

While we waited in line for the place to open - The Hollywood Dream ride screamed overhead. It was like your traditional rollercoaster (albeit very sleek and shiny), but played in fast-forward (is that still a term in the age of mp3s?). I somehow volunteered to ride this monstrosity with the larger two Martin children as Jen took Josh to spend some time in a place frequented by Elmo, Snoopy and Hello Kitty.

Hamish was tall enough to ride accompanied by a breezy 2cm (which would equate to your typical Year 8 student), and the constant warnings about objects flying from pockets did not reassure me.

We were pinned snuggly to our individually-moulded seats, and could select our own music piped through the head-rest. As I could not find the Funeral March, I opted for Get Back by the Beatles. The initial climb was not that high (I kept telling myself), but the breakneck speed at which the thing plummeted down the other side had me clenching so tightly that I managed to put my calf muscle into spasm. Brave old Lily (who had been casting mocking looks in my direction as we lined up) was blubbering/squealing theatrically. Hamish was loving it. We survived, and I wondered what the particular Hollywood denizen was taking to have inspired that particular Dream.

....okay - aside from the terror and cramping calves, it was fun.

The kids (including the apparently recovered Lily) insisted on dragging Jenny onto The Dream as soon as we rejoined her and Josh. So I braved perhaps the slowest Tea Cup ride in existence. Josh even raised an eyebrow at me mid-ride as if to say, "Is this it?".

We moved on to a fairly snazzy-looking Carousel, and Josh had a ball on a giant blue elephant. The others had returned just in time to meet the one and only Elmo (both boys overcame their mascot phobias sufficiently to high-five him and in Hamish's case, to goose him).

We rode down a water-slide in teeny inflatable rafts, the water soaking our posteriors in a seemingly targeted fashion. It was hard to feel embarrassed in a place where others were wearing Big Bird plushies as hats however.

As we lined for Caramel Popcorn (yes we went there), it was becoming increasingly apparent that we were having a much better time here than at Disneyland. Perhaps it was that the queues for rides were frequently 15 minutes or less, or maybe it was just that the attendants appeared genuinely (rather than scarily) pleased to be there. My thought is that we happened upon Universal Studios on a reasonably quiet day - but it was great. 

Continuing the theme of overly-moist rides, Jen took the bigger two on Jurassic Park - the Ride. The presence of a number of ride-goers in rain-jackets was not reassuring.

It was at about this point that Jen felt it best that she take Josh back to Tiny-tots Town, and I accompany the bigger two. I was busy taking their photo in front of one of the Deloreans from Back to the Future, when a couple of Japanese ladies offered to take a photo of all three of us. I was in geek-heaven. Somewhat bizarrely, they then asked to have their photo taken with the two kids in front of the above-mentioned Delorean (I am thinking 'Delorean with foreign children' trumps without).

I admit it, I was humming the theme song as this photo was taken.

The Back to the Future ride was really fun, combining some overdubbed-cinema and getting thrown about in your seat for good measure. The same can essentially be said of Spiderman - the Ride.

Seasoned-posers.

We all had some afternoon tea in a place accurately called Cafe Pink - it made your teeth ache just by looking at it. We dined on cupcakes and ice-cream (the kids had some blue mint choc-chip, all-natural I imagine), and noticed a Carnivale (a standard fare of Japanese theme parks apparently) assembling outside. 

The kids picked up some headbands, Josh going for his beloved Cookie-monster, Hamish opting for Elmo, and Lily (somewhat appropriately I would venture) for Oscar the Grouch.

We ended up watching the Carnivale - Joshie was hugely impressed that he saw both Cookie Monster and Elmo on the ONE float.

We called into the Hard Rock Cafe on our way out for a ludicrously early dinner - dining amidst the cheerful ambiance of hard rock/thrash metal (Joshie actually bopped his head along at one point). All of us were verging on sleep on the train home.

Tomorrow was going to be Nara - but has turned into another day in Kyoto (just to give us a sleep-in as well as a break from the trains in the morning).

Geisha, Tantrums and Tragedy at the Temple

The weather app predicted showers today - on this occasion, their continued inaccuracy was a bonus (no rain-jackets required). Joshie was in a challenging mood, attempting to hurdle roped-off sections of nearby shrines, as well as casting frowns at any camera pointed at him. He found himself riding on my shoulders a little earlier than usual as a result.

Joshie - mid-stomp

We made our way to Yasaka Pagoda (which is pretty much visible as we hit the main street near our place), where we politely approached a couple of tourist Geisha (ie not the real deal), and asked if we could take a picture. With big grins they readily agreed - and then asked if I could take some more photos of them with the kids on their cameras.

We continued along Sannenzaka Slope, which was lined with many traditional shops and restaurants. The local lore maintains that a slip on these steps will bring 3 years bad luck - we made it through unscathed, even with Josh in a stompy kind of mood. There was much hair-patting and cries of 'Kawai!' and 'Beautiful!' for all three of the kiddies - with Hamish's cheeks growing just a little rosy as a result.

As we neared Kiyomizu-dera, Lily located an oversized mascot (for what, we have no idea) and promptly sidled up for a photo opportunity by herself - Hamish's aversion to mascots continued, and Josh was content to glower from a distance.

Hey look! It's... that guy!

Kiyomizu-dera is a Buddhist Temple - first built in 798, but had a major renovation (ie rebuilt) in 1633. The main Hall has a huge veranda that perches on hundreds of timber pillars (nail-free), overlooking the waterfall (Otowa-no-taki) below.

A similarly un-subtle doorbell.

A not-so-subtle entry-gate.

Straight from the Dragon's mouth.

As you enter, you are confronted with the 'clearly genuine' giant steel war slippers and staves of Sakanoue no Tamuramaro - a famed Shogun. While I was able to manage to lift one of the staves, the steel girder next to it (presumably another staff) was a bit much.

The guy next to me was busy rupturing something.

We paid our respects at the Temple proper, basking in the sunshine and incense smoke alike. As we did so, we became aware of a gentleman in a great deal of distress by having singed one of his fingers in a clumsy attempt at poking the smouldering stick into some ash. His teeny blister had officials running for first aid manuals. 

Moving on before the Coast Guard arrived, we made our way down to Otowa-no-taki, and sipped from its waters, making a wish as we did so.

Otowa-no-taki

Some of those timber pillars I was raving about earlier.

As I was having a good old slurp of the crystal waters, I noted a group of ladies clustering about the Martin children. They had become a bit of a minor attraction it seemed. Joshie even came around - much to their delight.

Say 'chizu'

'Wait 'til the rest of the ladies at the kimono club see this!'

On our way back from the Temple, we spotted a vendor selling more of those rice dumplings on a stick. His location was precarious, as there was a grumpy lady selling bloated geisha dolls next door (she had signs instructing all-comers not to touch or even take photos of anything), who resented his filthy queues impinging on her space. I have to say, the rice ball skewers were worth the angst.

Kiyomizu-dera

For a teeny change of pace - tomorrow sees us off to Universal Studios in Osaka - home of Sesame Street characters amongst others. Josh will be in heaven. I will be wondering how I could trade places with the burnt finger guy.

Grey seas, white knuckles.

What with local kids apparently going to school on Saturdays and Sundays (going by the hordes of them in uniform), you generally don't come across Japanese kids out and about during the day. We had feared that our progeny may have shocked the locals by their volume. This fear was allayed somewhat by a couple of Japanese kids around Lily and Hamish's age at the breakfast buffet this morning. Both were wearing balloon sculptures on their heads (I don't know why either), and were banging and clattering with bowls and utensils like nobody's business. Our kids may have slightly more room to move when it comes to creating noise from this point on (just don't tell them that).

I had been obsessing a little about reaching the Sea of Japan, just to have been there (if that makes sense). Due to the complete lack of any apparent places of interest on the Kanazawan coast - we made our way there by guess-work (GPS-free). A number of our attempts were thwarted by an enormous coastal toll-way blocking our path, as well as the Roads and Traffic Authority's complete disinterest in connecting the people of Kanazawa with their coastline. We eventually found a minor road (more of those single-lane, driveway-esque things) - and made our way excitedly down to the sand.

North Korea thattaway.

On an overcast day, the Sea of Japan was a leaden affair, with flotsam and jetsam strewn up and down the shore. There were a couple of dedicated surfers in wetsuits contemplating going in - but that was about it. Still - we'd made it, and the completionist itch in me had been scratched.

Joshie a little perplexed about this outing,
and the lack of Pocky in the near vicinity.

This is what a tolerant family looks like.

Filling up our mighty Mazda 3 for the last time before drop-off, the good folk at the Eneos Petrol Station all but hugged us upon our arrival (yes, they are that friendly). It was an uneventful trip to Kyoto, and we stepped out in what appeared to be a very chic city. Clearly fitting in wearing our long-suffering travelling clothes - we sought out some real coffee before hunting down a taxi.

On the way to the taxi rank we noticed a number of workers up a tree - industriously pulling the leaves off a tree. I'm not sure why the tree's leaves offended them so much, but apparently their time was up.

'Why haven't you shed your leaves yet you silly tree?'

Our taxi driver looked exceedingly puzzled about our destination (which was concerning as we had the address written in Japanese along with an accompanying map) and consulted regularly with a number of his own maps at each red light, often forgetting to check when the light turned green to go. Knees pressed against the glove box, I began to wring my hands underneath my legs as the near-misses started racking up.

As we approached Gion itself (the part of town we are fortunate enough to be staying in), the roads narrowed to a point passing was impossible. Our bespectacled driver felt it would be the perfect time for some games of chicken between his speeding vehicle and apathetic pedestrians. We arrived without making the front page of the local paper and were very impressed indeed. The place is awesome, and we have it for 6 nights. The big people have beds, there is underfloor heating and there is a huge bathroom. Kennin-Ji Temple is literally around the corner (we nearly mowed down a few tourists out the front of there), and there are traditional street-scapes reminiscent of Old Town in Takayama, complete with kimono-clad ladies going about their business.

Cherry Timber all over the place.

Big people called dibs of the bed.

Josh about to put in a request for an over-sized bath.

If the weather is kind to us, we are aiming to take a stroll about Gion, taking in a number of historic sites in the process.

Tunnels, thatched rooves and gardens.

We departed Takayama under a brilliant blue sky and made the GPS Lady's day (she even sounded chipper) by taking the toll-ways to Shirakawa-go. Instead of winding through snow-dusted mountains, this express-way ploughed through them. We lost count of the tunnels - the last one was over 11 kilometres long.

We spotted an Eneos Station as we entered Shirakawa-Go, and were promptly descended upon by 3 gents who variously filled the tank, wiped the windscreen and shot the breeze with us. The chattiest of the three offered us a map of the Village we were heading to in English - which came in handy.

As we neared the historic area, some seriously-uniformed parking attendants waved us onto our eventual car park with their glowy batons. Due to the clear skies, the distant snow-capped mountains were plain to see - belying the sub-tropical 15 degrees as we stepped out of our Mazda. 

Thatched roof and snow-capped mountain thrown in for good measure.

The Martin clan a little taken aback by all the available sunlight.

Ogimachi Gassho Village (located in Shirakawa-go) is World Heritage listed, and consists of dozens of traditionally-styled farm houses - their thatched roof-lines pitched to shrug off the thick coverage of snow received over winter. Thanks to the trip only taking an hour, many of the thatched roofs were still steaming in the morning sun as we arrived.

A world away from the bleak functionality of North-eastern Hokkaido.

There were a number of family shrines located around the village - often overlooking small vegetable gardens, as well as a large Shrine devoted to Hachiman (who crosses over both Shintoism and Buddhism).

Shirakawa Hachiman Shrine

Each house is typically 3 stories high, and they farm silk-worms in the attic...
those not taken up by the housing of evil twins that is.

As you do in an alpine village, we purchased some ice-cream (hey - the temperature was into double-figures). Quite bizarrely, Jen spotted one Japanese photographer taking a quick shot of us before scurrying off. Those damned paparazzi. 

More to quell the constant goading by the Martin kiddies than any real need for sustenance, I purchased a Hida Beef Bun (a steamed bun with a centre of locally grown beef and gravy) - Japan's answer to the meat pie....only they actually have meat in theirs.

Having had our fill of World Heritage beauty and Hida beef in equal measure, we embarked on the second leg of our journey to Kanazawa. Jen broke out the Anpanman biscuits along the way. Anpanman is an outrageously-popular cartoon character who had a bean-paste bun for a head. Obviously.

In any event, while a fan of the show, Joshie did not enjoy him in biscuit-form nearly so much. I managed to get one of his side-kicks, a guy that has a piece of toast for a head.

We spotted the Sea of Japan as we neared Kanazawa, but our attention was quickly re-directed to more pressing matters. Essentially, Kanazawan drivers are nutters. People were veering across multiple lanes as they developed sudden urges to turn down side-streets. Others would cruise along the wrong side of the road for quite some time (a few hundred metres) prior to turning a corner. 

Somewhat surprisingly, we made it to Kokusai Kanazawa - our accommodation for the evening. Large and flash-looking, it boasted its own pool-side Chapel. We noted a number of gentlemen in shiny grey suits and at least one lady in a puffy, white dress.

We dumped our gear in our room, and made a quick tour around Kenrokuen Gardens - known as one of the most beautiful in Japan. It was a perfect way to unwind after a day on the move - although I fear the herd of us trampling through may have upset the tranquility of the place just a smidge.

They love a bit of moss in Kanazawa.

Near the Rainbow Bridge (which is in reality just a small stone bridge) in  Kenrokuen Gardens

Practical means to ensure ancient trees stick around.
They use hard-wood timber posts, fastened with rope.

We dined at the Hotel tonight and forewent the several fancy options available to try out the buffet. It was decidedly kid-friendly, the only intervention required on my behalf was to prevent a frozen dairy incident when Lily tried out the 'pour your own' soft-serve ice-cream (it was operated by a foot-pedal). It appears she has a lead-foot.

Tomorrow sees us return the car and board a train to Kyoto, where we shall be staying in our own apartment for the next few nights.

Sarubobo and meat on a stick.

We indulged ourselves on bowls of corn flakes as well as Vegemite on ...well, bread (there's no toaster to be seen in our Japanese-styled room). The weather app on Jen's iPhone assured us that it would be scattered clouds only for the day. Inevitably, it was misting rain and freezing (well under 10 degrees anyway) as we left the Inn. The 'old town' of Takayama is known as the Sannomachi Quarter, and is loaded with historic charm - although completely lacking in footpaths to speak of.

Ikeda Bashi bridge - on the way to Old Town (as opposed to Funky Town).

We noticed some parked Rickshaws and initially thought they had been artfully placed for dramatic effect. It turns out they are used with great enthusiasm by individual tour operators in traditional attire - ploughing through crowds of people and traffic congestion with equal abandon. I couldn't decide whether the stony faces and white knuckles on some of the passengers was from the chill weather - or from them seeing their lives flash before their eyes.

A fully-operational Rickshaw
(also known as a two-wheeled conveyance of doom).

The tiny streets were lined with various souvenir shops, sake tasting centres and restaurants - interspersed with shrines hundreds of years old. There was also this little red guy called Sarubobo ('happy monkey baby'), who would grant happiness and good luck to its owner. These guys were everywhere, from plush toys, jewellery, to rice crackers - he seems particularly associated with Takayama itself. Lily picked up a Sarubobo plush toy/mini-handbag thing and looked quite chuffed with herself.

Foot-deep open guttering a natural draw-card for a two year old.

Making use of the water rushing along the guttering/canals on the edges of the old roads was an automated marionette - perched over the canal and driven by a small timber waterwheel. The device cleverly revealed  a different local dish each time the creepy guy in the box lifted his lid. Josh was transfixed.

A waterwheel-powered marionette.
What sorcery is this?!

The temperature had not risen, nor had the misty rain abated. I spotted a street vendor selling something hot. It turned out they were selling cooked-rice dumplings on a stick, covered in soy and baked over a fire. These were known an Midarashi Dango (I know, I reckon it sounds like a saucy Latin dance too), and they were awesome. I later sampled some Hida beef (quality, locally-grown stuff) on a stick - it was tasty, tender and warm.

Hamish snacking on Midarashi Dango.

We wandered back to the Rickshaw Inn to pick up our car and go for a spin about town (and to get out of the cold to be honest). On the way back, while Jen picked up some more cereal for breakfast tomorrow, I spotted some Boss - Coffee Gum. Clearly, this was a must-buy. Fortunately, it tasted just like the canned coffee (super-sugary with a hint of long-life milk).

The great canned taste you know and love - now in gum form!

I somewhat foolishly mentioned the term 'toll-way' while Jen was driving. She immediately swerved off the main road we were on - thinking she had inadvertently found a one-way trip out of town. After some fun off-roading through some farm fields (well, lane-ways) we found our bearings and made our way back to the Inn.

Short-cut from the Rickshaw Inn to the restaurant strip.

On our way to dinner we observed one of the many crazy cyclists (in this instance a middle-aged woman), careen into a pedestrian who had the nerve to cross the road. Both were largely uninjured, and ridiculously polite considering.

Why is it that these alley-ways always look nicer at night?

We had earlier spotted another Italian Restaurant that looked ideal for dinner, but the place was full. They indicated we could wait and they would have a table shortly. While we waited in the increasingly chilly evening air, the wait-staff provided a couple of sheepskin blankets to keep us warm on a seat outside. The meal was lovely, and the walk back to our room was collision-free. 

The pillows in our room are reasonably solid - how solid? Lily nearly cracked one of Hamish's ribs during a pillow fight (think cement mix in a pillowcase). The kids are all out like lights (or is that concussed) - tomorrow sees us call into Shirakawa-go before stopping for the night at Kanazawa (on the coast of the Sea of Japan).

Kiso Valley and Takayama the long way.

The delightful folk at our Matsumoto Ryokan all lined up to wave us off, one nearly shedding a tear. Jen, who was driving today, was not overly appreciative of an audience while reversing onto the particularly busy street.

We aimed to take the scenic route (ie Highway 19 - weaving through the mountains), but GPS Lady wouldn't have a bar of it. She attempted to convince us to take the toll-way for at least 20 minutes. After we had placed some fairly large mountains between ourselves and any toll-way, she settled into a sullen silence. The above-mentioned mountains had a light dusting of snow in their upper reaches, it appears Winter was chasing us south.

Kiso Valley is a series of small villages lying on what used to be the postal road, way back when (ie somewhere in the Edo period). We called into Tsumago, one of the most faithfully-preserved villages in the Kiso Valley.

Lily emulating your standard Japanese teen.

Taking a breather at one of the many small shrines around Tsumago.

I tried twisting that rock, but the bamboo wouldn't shut off.

Souvenir shop -
more chopsticks than you can poke a ..erm, never mind.

Spotting a very rustic looking shop selling some not-so rustic soft-serve ice-cream, we sampled a cone each. I adventurously (such a risk taker) tried some chestnut-flavoured ice-cream, while everyone else stuck with vanilla. We had just about finished ordering when several bus-loads of Japanese school girls descended on the very ice-cream shop we happened to be standing in. Much giggling and gesturing towards Joshie and the bigger kids followed - before they were eventually hurried on their way by some mildly exhausted-looking teachers.

Joshie was heard to ask, "Why are the people looking at me?"
He then resumed smearing his ice-cream across his face.

Not wanting a repeat of our Matsumoto night-driving shenanigans, we set our course for Takayama with an estimated time of arrival some time after 4pm. It was a lovely afternoon for driving, blue skies, autumnal leaves and gracefully winding roads.

That's when GPS Lady decided to provide an alternate path to Takayama than that sign-posted. Somewhat foolishly, we listened. We made some good time along an increasingly deserted road, before coming across a road closure. 

Once again GPS Lady - we thank you.

The assumption was it was closed due to snow, but we really had no idea - save that we were not going to press on into goodness knows what. Clenching our teeth, we ignored the pleas of GPS Lady for us to return to the closed road, and rejoined the highway with Takayama clearly signposted on it. The side-trip meant we arrived at the Rickshaw Inn in the dark, just as it started to mist rain. The young lady behind the counter was, however, very warm and welcoming. Each of the Martin kiddies were given flashing badges of the Rickshaw Inn to wear (clearly this made an instant impression on them).

Thinking we'd pop around the corner to pick something up for dinner - we ended up wandering the streets for quite some time (I may or may not have had the local map upside down). We have purchased some essentials, including an actual box of cereal for breakfast (I can't remember when we've last made our own breakfast), as well as some truly terrible instant coffee - the fact that I am not currently face-planting on this keyboard is testament to its caffeine content however.

Weather-willing, we shall check out the Old Town, called Sanmachi-Suji in the morning.