Weekend 12th August, 2006. Vladivostok.
Our lovely Vladivostok host Nastja took us to the nearby Russky Island, an ex-naval fortress complex consisting mostly of heavily wooded gentle hills, along with her very fit friends. Fit young people have absolutely no concept of distance, time, or unfitness so the 5 km walk to the beach that we were meeting more friends at hit 30 kms before ellen and I said 'bugger this' and hitched the remaining 10 kms on a passing Lada that merely averaged its direction. By midnight we arrived at our hitherto unknown goal, which it transpired was to gate-crash a stag party at which much limoncello (of all things) was drunk and the juiciest of shashlik was eaten. All boys at the stag night were extremely drunk yet friendly, kind and engaging. We were even given a tent for the night, where I retired happy but early on account of being neither young nor fit any more.
I woke to a fine morning and decided that given the fire was already going it would be a good idea to half-cook and eat the heavily processed cheese and pork sausage I had been carrying around in my pack all day yesterday. The inevitable promptly followed and my only-just-recovered-from-Mongolia digestive system was back to square 1, if not worse. On the plus side I have now lost weight equal to that of my backpack - hoorah! Dissapointingly this does not mean that the load feels any the less.
Mon 14th - Wed 16th August. Sea of Japan.
At 6pm we finally step off of Russian soil, and in a deliberate attempt to not dwell on our departure from such an awesome country, step onto the ferry amid the usual interminable bureaucracy. The ferry was pretty plush and comfortable, with nice cabins, a swimming pool and (obligatory given the amount of Russians being transported) plenty of bars. Our ticket included meals (which were pretty dreadful) and on the first night the crew herded us towards the other handful of westerners (for our protection or for theirs?) where we met an Englishman from a Gudjurati family (gave good tips on where to go in India) and a fantastically base and insensitive Australian called Peter. Amongst his finer contributions were comments to the ethnically Indian guy that "ah yeah, Ooolan-Ooday, place was full of slanty-eyed buggers were'nt it". Although I think his masterpiece he saved until both the Englishman and myself came to the table complaining of digestive problems on day 2. Timing his piece to start on the first mouthful of our meal he regalled us with his favorite personal accounts of former diahorrea-related incidents, which reached their crescendo on our last mouthful, with the immortal "now I know why babies scream so much; jeez it goes cold quick doesn't it?".
Also part of our western herd were 2 lovely German girls, Anja and Annegret, whose company I enjoyed amidst much Japanese beer for most of the first evening in the disco, helping to fend off very lusty drunken Russian boys. Almost everyone on this ferry route is a Russian going to Japan to buy a car and drive it back, as for some crazy reason this is much cheaper than buying a much lesser quality Russian can back at home (prohibitive taxes). I woke very ill the next day, throwing up well into the afternoon while reflecting that drinking heavily on top of food poisoning during a sea crossing is never going to end happily. I consider briefy that it may be time to grow up before dismissing the notion out of hand as a side-effect of the poison.
The sea is beautifully still for the whole crossing, and really blue: royal blue, which is like I'd always dreamed the Pacific would be but still a surprise, used as I am to the steely Atlantic. At the end of the trip we are joined in our cabin by the customs inspection, 2 lovely and helpful chaps who are more akin to tourist board information service reps - a huge administrative contrast to Russia - and then its up to Immigration where they ask no questions, smile a lot, and stamp us with a 90 day Japanese pass. With the bouyant enthusiasm of the truely naive we step off with no language, no guide, no map and no money, and onto Japanese soil grinning like Cheshire cats. We do however have a hitch-hiking sign in Japanese that Ellen charmed some fellow passengers into making. Lets hope they liked us...
Wednesday 16th August. First day in Japan.
It should be explained that the sign is necessary because we have only arrived here by accident. Japan is one of the most expensive countries in the world and hence was not on our original jouney route as it couldn't be accomodated within our budget. When you are standing on the shores of Vladivostok, practically able to smell Japan, and you realise that you may never be this far east again in your life, well what are a pair of chancers to do? The price is that we should hitch wherever practical and healthy to do so, and sleep under the stars when we cannot stay with HC members. Sounds like a fabulously zen way to see Japan!
Ellen secures us a lift the minute we step off the ship onto Honshu island (the main one), half way down the west coast, from a wonderful old fella who drives us around the local port town (Fushiki) helping us find somewhere that will sell us Yen (Japan is still a cash society. The only ATMs that will reliably accept foreign cards are post office ones). Once doe he drives us to a supermarket, foists many delicious items on us and insists on paying for the lot. We really do try to stop him but this is Japan - such things are part of life. It really pushed my boundaries - this kind of thing does not happen in England - and I was really overwhelmed by such a kind and generous guy. I think he is convinced that our plan to hitch all the way to Hokkaido (quite some distance) is just plain lunacy. He's probably right, but it is our plan nonetheless: public transport is excellent but hugely expensive, and all of Japan apart from the northern Hokkaido island is swelteringly hot and humid in August. After dropping us off out of town on a good hitching route we hop alog a series of lifts, creeping up the coast with the Sea of Japan glittering away to our left and the Japanese Alps to our rights. Heaven.
Suddelny its sunset and I get disoriented because its only 7 pm. During our ride acrosss Russia we kept adding an hour as we proceeded east (8 time zones in Russia), but when we left the coast and continued east to Japan we suddenly lost 2 hours, going from GMT+9 to +7. Why I don't know but it is confusing, especially at sunset which in Russia happened at about 9:30, and now happens at 7. We lessen our food mountain a little and mull over where to sleep, when suddenly we are whisked off by a smashing chap who drives us up the expressway for maybe 3 hours, considerably advancing our progress while helping us navigate by pointing many useful roads out on the map. Eventually we stop and he negotiates us some floor space at the big service area, a great end to a fast-moving first day in - I must pinch myself to believe it - Japan!
Thursday 17th August. Leaving Honshu.
Up at 7, lift before 7:30! We were piked up by a great guy who took us north stopping at some famous temples at Hiraizumi before dropping us back on the expressway. The first was Motsu-Ji temple, a series of 12th century temples built inside the most important Jodo Garden that survives from the Heian period. This is one of the oldest gardens in Japan and stunningyl beautiful. Luckily the lotus flowers were in full swing when we were there, adn the lakeside acers were just exquisite. We also went to the Golden Hall of Chusonji temple, established in 850 on top of the local mountain. In the 12th century it became a temple complex incorporating a huge number of buildngs, forming the buddhist capital of northern Japan.
A coupe more lifts took us to the port ton Aomori where we boarded the ferry for Hokkaido - 3.5 hours arriving at midnight in Hakodate city. They let us foot passengers off after the cars meaning that we missed all our hitchig opportunities; although there were some drivers milling around we had no luck. We are now waiting for the next boat load of cars (2.30 a.m.), very tired but happy to reflect on our first full day in Japan - un anbelievably beautiful country with proer pointy mountains, just like dream mountains are. And certainly the Motsu-Ji garden was breathtakingly, exquisitely precise as though every acer leaf and pine needle had been hand-placed for maximum asthetic value.
Friday 18th August. Hokkaido.
Wake up atthe port, its raining. This is bad news for us as apparently the sight of a bedraggled hitcher in the rain does not evoke either pity or sympathy in the Japanese psyche, but rather conjurs the image of dangerous lunatic. Can't blame them as by now we must resemble crazy foreign nutters. We get nowhere until Ellen makes a sign to the nearest railway station, our first concession to the idea that we may not succeed hitching today. This works, and the station is pretty central to the town so we take the opportunity to do shopping, striking gold in the bookshop where we are able to get both a guide- and a phrase-book (guidebook is Rough Guide - takes some getting used to after Lonely Planet but not at all bad). Resume hitchhiking in the still insistent rain.
At 4 we give in. I suspect Ellen would've tried for a while longer but I am not so emotionally resilient - I'm wet through, stand zero chance of being taken seriously on the side of the road, and am absolutely exhausted from not digesting anything properly for days now. Am sick of seeing only service stations and expressways as this beautiful country passes us by becuase we want to save a few pennies. We go inside and order a 5 day Hokkaido rail pass for a king's ransom (90 quid each) but about the same price as the single ticket to our destination. We convince ourselves that we will make good use of the card, it will be able to take us all over the island, and spread over 5 days is not so dear. So much justification, but I'm glad of the chance to rest up.
The trains in Japan live up to expectations being fast, clean, quiet, spacious, comfortable, exactly on time (to the second) and best of all come complete with revolving seats for when the train switches direction! Our journey even in these great machines takes us 5 hours to Asahikawa, during which I realise that hitching such a way in the uncertain weather really was a mugs game. we are met at 9:20 p.m. by our host, Hirofumi, who has a car and drives us to his appartment via a convenience store and its tempting array of bento boxes. I have fallen even further in love with Japanese food which so far has been without exception exquisitly presented, fresh, nourshing, very reasonably priced, and not Russian!
At Hiro's we get our first encounter with Japanese domestic toilets: hi-tec is not the word, sufficed to say that ellen emerged with startled expression and much eyebrow twitching exclaiming that "English toilets do not generally come with their own remote control". Ha! There are controls for warming the seat to one's chosen temperature; for directing jets of water a la bidet; for providing 'a light sprinkling upon the buttocks'; and a variety of warm-air jets for drying. Apparently some also come with radio tuner and medical analysis instruments.
First real night's sleep since arriving, hurrah!
Saturday 19th August. Daisetsu-Zan national park.
Woke at 10 after an amazing night's sleep. The shower is a wet room, very civilised and another indication of how highly the Japanese prize cleanliness. The stereotypes about neat, clean, honourable, ploite and well-disciplined people here are indeed true in my experience so far, although kindness, generosity and hospitality are also present in large doses. I cannot but help feel shamed as a huge, shambling, dirty pale barbarian oaf amonst the exquisite Japanese although of course I know they do not mean to make me feel that way. Apparently this is not an uncommon first sensation for westerners!
Hiro takes us to the countryside in his car, to the famous Daisetsu-Zan national park, and the first stop is something else that is hard to imagine in England: a land-owner had set aside a good sized area, and planted it up in a riot of incredibly bright colours and shapes - salvias, marigolds, kochia and lots of just-over lavender. The area was for sight-seeing only, and there was no fee nor donation requested. The farm was not paid to do this at all, and it was a stunning sight to see.
After some delicious soba noodles with scallops (local speciality), we went up a mountain to the local hot spring baths ('onsen') which, had there been no fog, would overlook one of the park's highest mountains. As it ws the mist was equally beautiful in its ethereal way, and the site had a family of pretty tame foxes which we spent some time sitting with.
The whole onsen thing is typically Japanese, in that it is governed by rules (hermetic to the uninitiated), perfectly executed, adn fulfilling to both the mind and the senses. There are a thousand categories of slipper to get you from one area to the next before you strip and enter the baths themselves. These always begin with a shower area complete with condiments where you must clean yourself thoroughly, multiple times before entering the communal waters. Our onsen then had a bath of quite hot water, an outside one (overlooking the mountain) of very hot water, and an ice-cold plunge pool to cool off in. Immaculately built and maintained I found the experience to be very different but every bit the equal of the Russian Banja, and emerged sincilatingly clean and relaxed. Communial bathing, I have decided, is one of life's great pleasures, a hallmark of true civilisation, and England's great loss (mind you, we'd only graffiti it and piss in the pool).
We watched sunset by a lone mature oak tree overlooking valleys and mountains. This was not just any tree, but a celebrity nonetheless! It had, apparently, been used in a tobacco commercial on TV and has since become the focus of a Japan-wide pilgrimage to it. I will never understand these people, and I wonder if I seem as totally barking mad to them as they do to me.
Home via supermarket for tempura and wickedly gooey chocolate cakes, and a very appreciated early night. I must be getting old.
Sunday 20th August. Ainu people.
Hiro leaves this morning for a 10 day training course in Tokyo, meaning that yey again we have a flat to ourselves. This is good in that it feels really swanky to land our own appartment in Japan, but bad in that Hiro is great company and it would have been better to see more of him. we get a late morning train south past Saporro to a small area known for its remaining Ainu population - the original inhabitants of this island until last century when settlement by the Japanese caused their numbers to dwindle. They may be more closely related to Mogolians and ethnic Siberians, but in any case they eluded us as our final connection was down due to an earlier accident. The alternative bus would've got there too late, and so we turned back resigned to an entire day on the train (albeit through beautiful scenery). At least I had the chance to finish the dreaddul Agatha Christie book I picked up ('At Bertram's Hotel' - don't bother. The glamour-puss did most of it and her daughter the incidental murder).
I definitely have a touch of the blues due to prolonged absence from loved ones, still successfully but pangfully giving up smoking, and the general stress from travelling. A real shame as it tends to take the edge off things, and instead of turning small setbacks into new opportunities I am letting them knock me back. Ellen on the other hand is coping admirably and seems to be frothing over with enthusiasm. My obstacle I think is cost - everything is so expensive here that for everything we do in Japan, an otherwise perfect place, I remind myself that there are half a dozen sacrifices needing to be made later on in the journey (Thailand? India?). I just need to chill out and accept the fact that the only real way to lose out is to not enjoy the magnificent experiences that I have been granted.
Monday 21st August. Shiretoko peninsula.
In my typically contrary way, I wake up early relaxed, happy and full of anticipation for the mini-adventure that awaits us today. We have decided to use our last 2 days of rail pass to go east to the Shiretoko peninsula, the north-easterly tip of Japanand now classified a world heritage site. After an initial nail-biting wait for the bus into town we made our train connection in the nick of time - this turns out to be a feature of the day as we hop across the island first by train to Abishiri, then Shari, then bus to Uturo and on to Iwaobetsu inside the national park itself, and where our youth hostel for the night is. This journey, from central Asahikawa to the islan's north-eastern point, took us about 8 hours with very little hanging about reinforcing to me that Hokkaido is actually pretty massive; confusingly it is typical for maps of Japan to include Hokkaido at a smaller scale to other islands due to its relative unpopulatedness. I would strongly recommend anyone to visit the island, as it is Japan's last real wilderness and very beautiful (if lacking in traditional Japanese culture and buildings as it was only populated during the 20th century). However I would advise that either time or money should be allowed for, in abundance. Hitching is safe and easy but takes a long time, and an expensive alternative that will allow you to see all the island has to offer in a shorter time is to hire a car here - not actually all that pricey when compared to the public transport options.
The journey itself was gorgeous, starting in the high central hills and coming to a coastal route where the Pacific twinkled at us in the sequiny sunshine. We reached the youth hostel late afternoon, and pretty soon all my doubts about the cost of the endeavour melted: the place was comfortable and in a beautiful part of the peninsula, the staff were friendly and accomodating by taking lots of time (despite bieng pretty busy) to pour over timetables with us and help us plan our itinery and complex transport back for tomorrow. They tackled Ellen's diet with very little clue but plenty of enthusiasm, and once uncetainly settled we headed off to make the most of the light by walking upstream through the adjacent river towards the distant peaks. The area is well known for its brown bears (and I must admit to getting a little spooked!) but we didn't see any, and more to the point they didn't see us. The locals irritatingly wear leper bells in the belief that they will ward off bears, and I can only recall that dreadful joke about sprinkling the anti-elephant powder on one's geraniums. If you're close enough to startle a brown bear with your presence, and it feels its got nowhere to go, no amount of jangling in the world is going to prevent you from becoming bento.
Supper at the hostel was chicken curry and rice - Japanese curry being a blander, more glutenous version than its Indian counterpart but pleasant nonetheless. My meal was the cheap option (of course!) and I watched as my fello diners cooked and ate fresh-caught salmon at the table, and yet more take their scissors to an unweildy platter of spider crabs. No one plate of food should ever contain that many limbs and I can now see why some prefer their meat anonymously cut and shrink-wrapped on the shelf! early night in seperate dorms, which felt weird after travelling so closely for so long. I woke regularly thanks to death-rattle-man and his imperfect bladder.
Tuesday 22nd August. Paradise found.
Wow - a red letter day, a wonderful day of tourist bliss where everything runs like clockwork and all is well with the world! Those of you who know us will be amazed to hear that we were up at 6, at the breakfast table at 7 and on the road before 8. A short bus ride to Shiretoko Go-Ko took us to an other-worldly place where 5 lakes linked by wooden walkways snake through a mixed-wood forest nestling under the mountains, and which provided us with a joyous couple of hours' strolling; we even had the second half of it virtually to ourselves as other tourists opted for the abridged version.
The place is a major draw to the area and quite rightly so as the haunting serenety of the place is quite special. I took to contemplating why the Japanese, who as a nation exhibit a huge love of nature and the great outdoors, seek to control her with the same tight discipline they exert over themselves. Maybe this is becuase, what with the extremes of temperature here, the constant earthquakes (a tremor can be felt at all times, somewhere in Japan), frequent volcanic activity and general attempts on behalf of these islands to do away with their inhabitants, drives the japanese to attempt a reestablishment of the dynamic balance between perople and land that is necessary if both are to thrive. I guess in England our land is an altogether gentler beast that unfettered still allows us a pretty comfortable time of it.
Another short bus-hop took us to paradise and its called Kammuiwakka-No-Taki, a place so cool it must've been dreamed into existence: a cascading waterfall tumbling from natural plunge pool to natural plunge pool, fed partailly by a hot volcanic spring and commanding majestic views of the Pacific flanked by mountains. My rather limited imagination had never even concieved of such a splendid thing and it goes without saying that I tried and tested every one of the totally clear and clean pools until I was one blissed-out, steamed-up prune. Hot spring waterfalls are the bee's knees, and I have now been thoroughly spoilt for their common or garden cold-water counterparts.
A hop back to the Shiretoko Shizan Centre which serves as an information point for the area allowed us time for a last amble down to a look-out point over the peninsula before meeting our bus for the journey back. I am now on the Asahikawa train, tired and happy, bento box waiting patiently to break up the long journey which should see us back un Asahikawa by 9. This mini-adventure has really brought Hokkaido alive for me and I look forward to a few more days here before heading south by thumb to Honshu, towards the sweltering humidity that is Tokyo and Kyoto. Hurrah for Japan!