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.

The Great Cable Car Robbery

This morning was Hamish's birthday, so we gave him a ridiculously loud birthday card we'd picked up in Sapporo, as well as an assortment of cards, emails, texts and previously sent presents from the entire family. We set out with the intention to take the Cable Car (Rope-way) to the top of Mt Hakodate (the view from the top is apparently one of the 'must dos' locally). After a quick detour to take on board some coffee and hot chocolate, we started making our way up the cobble-stoned streets in the Mt Hakodate foothills. We picked our way past a veritable throng of overtly artistic Japanese types (the berets and smocks were not subtle) all perched on footstools dabbing at teeny canvases with an air of focus. The object of their study was the Hakodate Russian Orthodox Church (first constructed in 1859).

Not a beret or smock amongst them.

We made our way over to the Cable Car centre, with Lily cheerfully casting aspersions about my capacity to enjoy heights, when it dawned on me that I had not seen a single car go up during our approach. Sure enough - as we reached the shut ticketing booth, we were able to decipher that the place was essentially 'closed for repairs' during the very week we were in Hokkaido. 

Bugger. 

Staring up at the observation deck, high above on the top of Mt Hakodate - we were approached by one of the workers who indicated that it was essentially an hours walk/climb, but shook his head when he looked at the kids. 

Bugger.

With more than a little despondency, we had a look at a nearby Gokoku Shrine. Joshie made friends with a stone owl, while his parents struggled with their options in light of the woefully-timed Cable Car maintenance.

Joshie's friend doesn't give a hoot.

Red Tori - may look nice, but it can't get you up a mountain.

We eventually bit the bullet and decided to test just how expensive Japanese taxis were (guide books warn of second mortgages being required). There were a couple handily located at the closed Cable Car facility (I smell conspiracy!), both some kind of teeny european make of car from the 60s - that looks cute from the outside, but required me to open the glovebox to fit my knees in. We were about to buckle up, when the silver-toothed driver waved us off doing that. Clearly not mandatory here. He then proceeded to buckle up himself. Nice. As my forehead was essentially pressing against the windscreen already - there was nothing major lost in any event. We wound our way up into the clouds, and I felt whatever he was going to charge would be fair enough. It turned out to be pretty reasonable. The view was amazing (thank goodness). 

The kids had vanilla/mango sundaes in the cafe, able to overlook Hakodate as they did so. I, in turn recovered from embarrassing myself by attempting to phrase-book my way through their order, only to discover the waitress spoke fluent English... 

View to the North from Hakodate Mountain

Upon our descent, we called into one of the Redbrick Warehouse deli's and picked up a spongey, maple cake scroll - and added some Pocky in lieu of birthday candles (that we couldn't find anywhere). A bowl-full of confectionery and a raucous rendition of Happy Birthday appeared to complete the setting for Hamish's birthday (that and the lurid blue wristwatch he picked up with some birthday money yesterday).

Pocky-skewered maple rolls will become all the rage -
trust me.

While Joshie crashed and the older kids retired to their respective electronic devices, Jen ducked out to the JR Station to reserve some seats for tomorrows return trip to Sapporo. I attempted to demonstrate my prowess with the Kendama, but the children were far from impressed (apart from my failed attempts, which they thought were hilarious).

It was around 6pm when we set out to give the Hakodate Beer Factory one more try in terms of a meal. They were open! I ordered some Jingisukan (a dish named after Ghengis Khan's crowd - BBQ mutton), while Jen had some ribs, Birthday Boy had a fried seafood plate, and ever adventurous Lily and Josh had some potato wedges. They also offered a beer sampler, which was pretty nice (my favourite was the Ale). After dinner, we had a wander around the Redbrick Warehouse district again, and came across a veeery early Christmas tree. I'm guessing by the time the real event comes round - the area would be under a few metres of snow.

Tomorrow sees us take the train back to Sapporo and our traditional Ryokan, before flying back to Tokyo. To be honest with you - I am not looking forward to the chance of cold goo for breaky.

More atmosphere than you can poke a cuttlefish at.

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: 

1. 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. 


2. 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.


3. 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.


4. 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.

The dried, flat ones didn't look so happy.

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.

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.

Shaky start & something sweet to finish with.

I was awoken by Jenny (I was kicking back on my futon and bag-of-cement pillow) at what seemed to be the middle of the night, but it turned out to simply be a very overcast day. She advised that I could either have a fast shower or a cold one - so I spent a luxurious 2.5 minutes showering, before the steaming-hot cascade turned into cruel needles of ice.

We descended to the in-house restaurant, pretty-much anticipating a buffet-style breakfast set-up we had experienced everywhere else. Turns out that this place takes tradition to new heights, and served a set meal for breakfast as well as dinner. The kids had grown used to being able to ferret out some toast and jam, but were now faced with sashimi, egg-rolls and miso soup. The looks on their faces were priceless. Jen and I were served the 'grown up' version with dishes I am completely unfamiliar with. The majority were quite nice, but am at a loss to explain one offering I ended up consuming (but Jen piked on):

It was served in a small bowl, about the size of an egg-cup. In the deceptively innocuous bowl were some cold broad-beans and a relative of the chilli - shredded. So far, so good. Over it was what I can only describe as goo. Try as I might, I am unable to appreciate 'that something extra' some cold, slimy ectoplasmic tendrils add to the rest of the dish. There was no flavour - just goo, strings of which would cling to the bowl as you retrieved bean/chilli portions. On the plus side, it made the coffee appear lovely in comparison.

We stepped out into some icy cross-winds flecked with rain, to return our beloved Blue Mazda 3 to the Hire company. In it we'd driven through snow, failed to pay tolls on freeways, and been pulled over by the Police.

Good times.

So we set out on foot once more, this time to Sapporo Station. The place consists of not only the Station, but several shopping centres (both above and below ground), Hotels and an Observation Tower. We needed to access the Post Office, but that entire section of the building was closed (it was before 10am after all) so we indulged in a 'second breakfast' of chocolate scrolls and lattes (could have used more goo though).

Once we pantomimed our way through our Post Office interaction - we decided to take a peek from the Observation Tower. Sapporo is huge. To the North East you can see the water - across which is Russia. There is nothing but a sea of densely-packed humanity in all other directions.

Sapporo - South view of the Observation Tower

We decided to risk the inclement weather, and take a stroll around the Botanical Garden (it was just 10 metres from our Hotel). On our way in we were confronted with a warning sign that was reasonably clear - despite being entirely in Japanese. The Wasp Warning Sign was sufficient to freak out our drama-prone Lily (who on at least one occasion leaped away squealing from some seed pods on a bush). While the Garden was not a patch on the Imperial East Garden in Tokyo - it was a nice break from all the concrete of the rest of Sapporo (the rain even eased for the duration of our time there - and we remained wasp-free!).

Wasps! They sting people!!!
(or words to that effect)

Grassy section of the Botanical Garden

We wandered back up to Sapporo Station and booked our JR Passes, explored the Underground Shopping Malls, and indulged in assorted products from a multi-national burger franchise. To add insult to gastronomic injury, we picked up an assortment of donuts from the appropriately-named Mister Donut for dessert, as well as some large cafe lattes.

As we returned to our Hotel we were confronted by the worlds smallest fire engine (parked across the road with lights flashing), either a police officer or parking attendant (I get them mixed up) pacing about, and a camera crew pointing at the entrance of our Hotel. Awesome.

It appears someone/thing broke a glass door to a downstairs restaurant adjacent to our hotel, and this was likely the biggest crime-story of the day. There is still yellow-tape around the area as I type, and it will likely be the talk of the train tomorrow.

The kids are tucked into their futons, teeth cleaned after having one of Mister Donut's finest (I believe I had a pumpkin-based one - an homage to Halloween no doubt).

Tomorrow sees us take a train ride to Hakodate, which is apparently the most 'atmospheric city in Hokkaido'. Looking forward to that - but may pass on second-helping of goo tomorrow morning.