All Posts from the With pics Category
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Sports day
Sunday was the annual Sports Day at the local primary school. The Sports Day is a massive event, with marquees arranged all around the sports ground for the parents and of course the local dignitaries invited (presumably the same bunch that gets wheeled out for graduation ceremonies and the like) and the kids all practice for weeks and weeks beforehand.
So you get to see lots of acrobatics like this:
and this:
And there are running races for the tinies:
And a massive tug-of-war.
Those tents at the back are where all the Proud Parents are cowering in the shade enjoying picnic lunches while the kids sweat in out in the burning sun. (And if you look really carefully you can even see the sparkling sea there behind the tents… sorry… am I sounding a bit too much like a travel brochure?)
During the festivities they had the results up on a big board at the front. Felix was happy because the White Team (his team) won the day on points:
Meanwhile in other exciting news, the pool at the primary school is due to open in just a few short weeks. The pool up at the junior high school is also being prepared for the summer, and guess who gets to scrub down the walls before they fill it: that’s right, Ruby and her compatriats were all out there today armed with brushes and towels and hoses. (Ruby “accidentally” got her best friend Kasumi wet but managed to buy her off with a muffin.)
And on Saturday Felix and I went to Onomichi to do some shopping and found this quaint little coffee shop where they make coffee using equipment that looks like something out of a mad scientist movie:
The coffee itself was pretty ordinary but at least we had fun watching them concoct it on the bunsen burners.
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Weekend wrap
Hello all, and here is the news.
Ruby has mid-term exams coming up and has assigned herself a gruelling study schedule over the next couple of weeks, including regular breaks for tapping furiously on the iPod and downloading new episodes of Glee. So on account of the revision regime she and Eleni stayed home on Saturday morning while I took Felix to soccer practice. The soccer ground they use on Saturdays is a little way out of town in the countryside and surrounded by fields. While Felix is busy at practice Eleni and I normally take the opportunity to go for a highly convivial walk in the fields. It really is a lovely spot out there.This week I noticed, in a city slicker sort of way, that it must be planting season — the planting machines and the trays of seedlings sort of gave it away.
On Saturday afternoon we found out by chance about the Satsuki festival on at the local arts and culture center (called Poporo; who on earth thought of that name?) so we headed down to have a look. It wasn’t an ancient traditional culture type festival so much as a string of performances by local band/music/choir/rock groups, plus a flea market, together with the regulation line of food and drink stalls. At the flea market Felix and I spotted an enormous remote control Mothra toy [Mothra is a classic Japanese monster from the same stable as Godzilla. Check out the 1961 trailer below. Fast forward to 1:30 for views of Mothra.]
Tragically the Mothra toy cost about $200 so we had to pass, but it was in any case a lovely day for the festival: low 20s and sunny. Before too long it will be low 30s and oppressively humid so we have to make the most of the good weather. I took a photo of the main stage, although it looks a bit small and pathetic from so far back. But I’ve included it here just to show off that Poporo roof, which looks as if a giant metal Mothra might burst out at any moment.
This morning (Sunday) we headed down to Onomichi, a small town about half an hour down the road, to witness Eleni’s debut peformance of wadaiko (Japanese drumming). She’s been practicing every Wednesday with her new best friends down at the local community center and today was their first hitout with Eleni in the group. Here they are in full flight:
The performance was for a volunteer organisation which hosts exchange students in Japan. Afterwards they gave all the students a go and invited our two to join in as well. Felix was up there like a shot but Ruby was unable to take part, being too cool for that sort of thing.
At lunchtime we went for a walk through picturesque Onomichi. In a couple of weeks my two sisters and mother are coming to town, so we’re busy checking out interesting places to take them. We’d actually been to Onomichi a few months ago and wandered along the seaside section of town, and I remembered being singularly unimpressed. But it turns out that all the picturesque stuff is up in the hills BEHIND the town, silly me. You catch the cable car up the hill and wander around these cute little winding paths in the hillside admiring the trees scenery temples cherry blossoms sea views etc etc. There are even a couple of little cafes tucked in amongst the culture, and near the cable car station at the top of the hill is a shop selling ice-creams with flavours such as green tea and black sesame (sounds weird but actually delicious). So now I rate Onomichi quite highly; the black sesame ice-cream in particular is worth bringing the family for.
When we got home I did a bit of mowing with our shiny new push-along lawn mower:
I’m not quite sure why but I’ve always wanted one of these. Now, finally, I have realised my life’s ambition: a push-along lawn mower. Just like Dave Sullivan.
And finally, Felix and I finished off the weekend in style with a visit to the local onsen. That’s our third visit now, but our first time on the left-hand side. Men and women are segregated (obviously) and they swap the sides daily; our last two visits were on odd days so we were on the right-hand side, but today was an even day so we got to try the left-hand side. Verdict: more massage spots, better views, but smaller selection of baths. On balance, we prefer the right-hand side.
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Skool lunch tasting session
Gotta love those skool visits.
This week they organised for interested parents to come in and try out the skool lunches. As it happens Felix is on serving duty this week so he gets to wear the dinky little serving gear, including the ubiquitous Germ Mask:
After the designated carriers have wheeled in the trolleys, the designated servers dole out the gruel from the pots.
The designated lunch monitors check that everybody has been served, then issue the Japanese version of 2-4-6-8-dig-in-don’t-wait.
Then the fun begins. Luckily there are no silly rules that you’re not allowed to talk while eating, like we had when I was at school back in the dark ages.
How about those US Army-issue metal plates! Like something out of MASH.
All the adults then repaired to a different room to try out the lunch for themselves. And listen to a highly involved presentation from the nutritionalist at the local council about how they try to incorporate seasonal ingredients and ensure a good balance of vitamins, minerals, riboflavin and iron, while making mealtime fun and interesting and many other things which I didn’t quite listen to as diligently as I possibly should have. I did however study an enormous table that gives a breakdown of the meal content in terms of nutrients, iron, energy and six million other parameters.
It’s all very thorough and I’m sure they’re doing a great job, but at the end of the day it’s institutionalised food on thin metal plates. Actually one of the mothers raised the crockery issue at the end of the talk. And the response? The local council is apparently “aware of the issue” but “unable to take action at this time.”
In any case, I’m sure that in terms of nutritional value the skool slops are surely way ahead of whatever we could be bothered slapping together for Felix at 6:30 in the morning, and at ¥240 (under $3) per meal it’s a bargain. Don’t imagine I’ll be eating out at the local primary school any time soon though.
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Things that go POOT in the night
One of the things about the sea is that it’s full of ships going back and forth all the time. Seeing as I’m sitting at my desk all day staring out at the sea when I should be working, I get to see a fair bit of marine traffic. The shipping lanes are pretty close and every now and then you get a really massive ship sliding by and the effect is quite startling. Just so long as they don’t take a wrong turn and smash into our town like in Speed 2. Occasionally there are really really massive tanker types moored out in the bay like that spaceship that hovers malevolently over Johannesburg in District 9. Over on a neighbouring island is a series of huge hangers nestled in a fold of the mountains that look like something in a James Bond movie, as if a huge rocket ship might sidle out at any moment. The sea is like one big movie set really.
But mostly it’s the ferries chugging doggedly along going poco-poco-poco-poco taking huge flat barges loaded with huge pieces of metal down to the shipyards further down the coast. The other day I spotted two barges pushing the entire back half of a ship:
I probably need to get out more often.
Anyway, when it’s foggy the ships all get going on their horns. This morning was a real pea-souper — I could actually see the fog rolling in across our garden — and there was a great deal of pooting going on out in the bay. At one point there was even a high poot and an answering low poot going back and forth like in Close Encounters (just the single note obviously, as opposed to a five-note cadence with pleasing structural resolution, but I guess it’s the best they can manage). Which is all very well although five in the morning was a tad early for my liking. Couldn’t you transport those things some other time? At least it makes a change from traffic noise, of which there is virtually nil around here. And while we’re at it, there are NO leaf blowers in our corner of Japan, heaven be praised. I’ll take pooting at five in the morning over those stupid leaf blowers any day.
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Skool update
Just a few random thoughts about the kids and their respective schools.
Firstly, Ruby is now having a better time at school (in contrast to the shenanigans last month). Some of her former tormentors are even speaking to her civilly again, which makes it that much easier to get through the day. The after-school brass band is proving to be unexpectedly good fun, not least because Ruby has worn down the resistance of the anti-sax faction and won herself a couple of genuine sax parts. And in the process we’ve discovered that the Year 9 trombone player is actually a closet saxophonist too, while the Year 9 trumpet player is also a wicked drummer. It’s not quite School of Rock yet but the winds of change are definitely a-blowin’ through the No. 4 Mihara City Junior High School.
Meanwhile, the native English speaker is still being forced to sit through three English classes per week. She is also expected to write out a diary page in English every night, but tonight we hit upon the idea of copying out the back covers of paperbacks from around the house. We figure that the teacher never reads the homework anyway. Then Ruby decided to make up her own story from half-way through, so in tonight’s instalment the happily married protagonist abruptly kills off his wife and breaks out in a volley of traditional Japanese drumming while his daughter Joy (possibly traumatised by the recent upheavals) changes her name to Nappi-San. I wonder how long it will take Teacher to twig to the fact that Ruby’s diary entries are not entirely grounded in reality.
Felix meanwhile is enjoying himself at school. He loves learning new kanji characters (and there’s plenty of those), and just last week proudly brought home a new kanji dictionary that has proven so popular it already has stains on it. Some of the stuff they do in science sounds interesting — this week they are all building solar-powered cars — while in maths he is regularly usurped by “two really smart girls” which presents him and his ego with an excellent challenge. Year 4 has more excursions and activities to spice things up; in a couple of weeks they are off to the local rubbish treatment plant which apart from the smell sounds like it should be fun. He still gets to play at friends’ houses after school more than he ever did in Australia, and on Wednesdays he goes with a group of mates to the local shrine where they all do their homework together then play games and learn about Japanese traditions and culture. (I suspect that the sweets and biscuits are the main attraction.) Meanwhile the skool pool is due to open in a few weeks and some of their classes become swimming lessons, the lucky things.OK it’s gripe time now. Having experienced two very different education systems (three if you count Italy), I can’t help but draw comparisons, and I’d like to share a few here.
• The kids have virtually no free time for playing. At primary school the “long break” is all of 20 minutes, and although lunchtime is 45 minutes most of that is taken up with eating and packing up the school lunch so they’re lucky to get 20 minutes to run around outside. I can’t help but compare this to Australian primary schools, where the kids get an hour and a half unadulterated free time. At Ruby’s high school, where you bring own lunch, they get barely 15 minutes to themselves after they’ve finished eating, and that’s the only break in the day. What are the chances that the lack of free time might have something to do with all the bullying and other stress-related problems that plague the education system?
• Computer education is woefully behind. Apparently in Year 9 they’re just learning how to turn on the computer and create a file in Excel. Contrast this with Australia, where according to Ruby they were making PowerPoint files in Year 1 (probably Year 2 or 3 after discounting for exaggeration) and had moved on to designing websites and creating 3D models in Google SketchUp and Kahootz by Year 6. How is it possible for the land of technology to be so far behind at the school level? Or is it just us out here in the sticks?
• There are no drinking taps. The primary school is serviced by tank water rather than mains water, which the kids are discouraged from drinking. Every kid brings a water bottle (NB: cold tea is the norm; plain water is a strange drink enjoyed by foreigners) and when that runs out… well, I guess that explains why Felix looks so hot and bothered sometimes when he gets home. Meanwhile Ruby nearly got heatstroke in a PE class the other day when they were all sitting out in the baking sun with no access to water (OK, cold tea). Apparently you’re not allowed to drink during class, and PE is a class, ergo…I don’t mean to sound overly negative. The curriculums are well-structured, the teachers are committed, the schools are well-equipped (if a little shabby), the results are there to see. Besides, we came here to experience a different culture and way of life, and this is it. Whether by design or by default, Japanese schools see it as their duty to foster toughness and resilience. Even at the risk of dehydration.
Oh, and apropos (love that word) of nothing in particular, we bought Felix some purple pants at our favourite clothing store Uniqlo last week. He chose them himself, I should add. Here he models his new pants complete with the Leif Garrett look:
And it always reminds me of that song Purple Pants by the legendary Heebeegeebees:
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Weekend wrap
Hello all. Sorry this weekend wrap is coming to you on a Tuesday; it was delayed by Technical Problems with the mega-floppy-bits at the server. Happily these have been fixed by Steve the wonder guru back in Australia, and I am now able to bring you the following riveting information.
We had a friend to stay last week. Kuniko is Japanese but has lived in Australia for about the last 20 years and thus is able to offer an interesting perspective on the two countries that we know so well. The first thing we did after she arrived on Thursday afternoon was to whisk her off for a meal of–what else–okonimiyaki.
As part of my ongoing search for a decent coffee in Mihara, on Friday morning we headed down to a funky jazz-inspired cafe by the sea called Cafe Hoxton. The coffee wasn’t that great (I really should abandon my quest for the holy grail about now) but it did sport some rather excellent Coffee Art on top:
On Friday night the girls went down to the local hot springs (except Ruby, who for some reason still steadfastly refuses to get naked with strangers) before Kuniko headed back on Saturday morning. So in two and a bit days I think we adequately covered the three key cultural highlights of Mihara: food, sea views and hot water.
Saturday was a big day for soccer. First of all I drove Ruby in to Sanfrecce soccer practice, which we don’t normally do because it’s an hour away. I couldn’t resist the opportunity to get a photo of the matching purple buses that take the girls to their games of a weekend:
Felix came along for the ride and managed to ingratiate himself into the practice session as a goalie:
After that we headed over to Felix’s soccer practice at Mihara UFC. This week was the annual Parents vs Kids match which was great fun for all concerned, and the parents would have thrashed the U10 kids had not a certain father let in a few too many goals (although I maintain that it made the game more even and therefore more interesting).
On Sunday morning we were meant to take part in the local clean-up day organised by our neighbourhood committee, to which I had duly promised to contribute only to have to cancel at the last minute when an impromptu soccer match was organised by Felix’s team. I mean, pulling out weeds for two and a half hours isn’t really my idea of fun on a Sunday morning, and you’re permitted to pay ¥1500 ($16) and officially squib out that way, but I felt a bit bad all the same. Particularly as the head lady came around afterwards to give us our gift for taking part (a bag of chips or something) when we didn’t actually take part… is that a sort of punishment via reverse psychology?
At lunchtime we went to see a concert by the local brass band, called the Poporo Junior Orchestra or PJO for short. (Kinda snappy isn’t it? By the way, the local culture center and concert hall is called Poporo. Nobody knows why.) This is because we thought it might be good for Ruby to have a proper place to play her saxophone other than the school band, where half the girls are still trying to convince her to give up the saxophone because it’s not a wind instrument. So we went for a squiz at a PJO practice session last week and guess what: (a) it turns out that some of the girls from the school band (the nice ones) are in the PJO too, and (b) it looks like fun and Ruby and Felix both want to join, and furthermore (c) they need a bass player and I am seriously considering it. Yes! Aging rock god lured out of retirement for ONE MORE ASSIGNMENT. Don’t you love the storyline, there’s a film in it for sure. But I figure it could be fun playing a few swing band jazz lines. May need to dye my hair grey for authenticity. Anyway Yusuke has lent me a bass and I found a dinky little Vox practice amp in the local guitar shop for the very reasonable price of ¥7000 (new) so it seems the planets are in alignment on this one.
To finish off the weekend we hosted Yusuke and family at our Second Ever Barbeque on Sunday afternoon. I managed to get the coals going nice and early but still burnt the food, although perhaps not quite so badly as last time. I’m confident that my coal-fired technique is improving and we should be onto edible food sometime before the evil rainy season arrives in June and barbeque plans are suspended until further notice.
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Our car
Our tiny car is officially called a Suzuki Wagon R 2000 model, but we’ve christened it the Eggbeater after the sound it makes when it’s beetling along the freeway at 100 (note to Japanese police: “beetling along at 100″ is just a figure of speech. Of course we wouldn’t dream of exceeding the pathetic 80 km speed limit by that much.)
The Eggbeater is what’s known variously as light, microlight or just “small car” in Japan. Small cars get tons of concessions like lower taxes, cheaper freeway charges and smaller bills for the compulsory biannual inspection. Even the car wash gives you a ¥100 discount! The Eggbeater is certainly compact but we can all fit in, plus there’s even space for a bag or two in the back.
Amazingly, the Eggbeater only has three gears—just like our 1962 vintage car at home. Fancy that: 40 years of technological progress, in the land of technology no less, and it’s still got just the three gears.
And how big is the engine under that tiny little bonnet, I hear you ask? Er, 650 cc. I’m told there are motorbikes with engines twice as big. Now you know why it sounds like an eggbeater, struggling up the hills with four lumbering great foreigners on board. It’s getting on too, is our Eggbeater; ten years old makes it almost vintage in Japan, where the punitive roadworthy regime effectively forces old cars off the road, but we only need it to hold out for two years. Just two more years, that’s all we ask.
Now I remember being told at my marketing course last year that women are better at reading prose while men are better at digesting lists. True to type, I love a good bullet-point list. So at the risk of being branded a misogynist, here is a list of random facts about driving in Japan.
• They drive on the left-hand side and the steering wheel is on the right—just like in Australia.
• Traffic lights are generally horizontal rather than vertical.
• There are only ever a couple of traffic lights at an intersection, at least around here. This can lead to the situation where you’re approaching an unfamiliar intersection, assuming that it doesn’t have signals, only to spot one at the last minute cunningly concealed on the far side. And what’s more, it’s red. Better chuck on the brakes.
• Speed limits are ridiculously low: 80 km/h on the freeway, 50 km/h on main roads, 30 km/h along local streets. Nobody takes much notice of the speed limits though; everyone goes around at about 10 or 20 km above the advertised speed. Which makes it particularly frustrating when you get stuck behind some person who insists on sticking to the limit. Let alone a farmer in a tiny tray-truck going at 30 km/h on a nice open country road, but at least you can generally overtake in the countryside.
• The traffic lights on the road to Sunami generally just flash yellow all the time on the main road and flash red (meaning Give Way) at the side roads. Some of them switch off altogether after about 11 at night. This means that you effectively get an uninterrupted run along the beach all the way home. What a great idea!
• There’s no such thing as on-street parking in Japan. The roads are thin and even when there’s two lanes, they’re both reserved for driving. Every shop and every house, every supermarket and bank, they all have to have parking spots. If you want to go to a shop that doesn’t have its own parking, then you have to find the nearest car park. The same if you want to visit a friend who hasn’t got a spare spot. Thankfully there are always plenty of car parks around although you have to pay, even in sleepy Mihara.
• The taxi drivers here are as bad as anywhere else. Already we’ve nearly crashed a couple of times into taxis that just pull out in front of fast-moving traffic like, like, I don’t know, like bloody taxi drivers.
And to finish with, here’s my favourite traffic light.
Look closely… what do you notice? It’s a red light… but you’re permitted to turn left, or turn right, or indeed continue straight ahead. Presumably the only thing you’re not allowed to do is to reverse into the car behind you. Which I figure I don’t really need a traffic light to tell me.
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Muzza’s Dei
Readers outside Japan will be pleased to know that Mother’s Day, like Christmas Day, is very much celebrated here in the land of the rising sun: the retail industry isn’t going to pass up a good marketing opportunity when it sees one.
For Mother’s Day we decided to go back to that big park near Hiroshima Airport (the one we discovered by accident back in March, as described in this post) for a bit of a cycling adventure. After stocking up on some of those fabulous supermarket bento boxes for a picnic, we headed off to the park and rented four bicycles for the 12 km circuit. They make you wear helmets and under the helmets you have to wear disposable head-tissue-thingies:
It was like pedalling around on top of the world, with spectacular views opening up at regular intervals. The riding trail seems to be have been made by joining together a whole lot of old roads that are now closed to traffic. The only downside (or upside, technically) was the hills: great when you’re careening downhill, but there were some pretty gruelling upward slopes. The Teenage Princess in particular was not too impressed and had to be coaxed up virtually every hill. We think she may be in need of some fitness training. Too much white rice has slowed her down.
It turns out there are hardly any planes at tiny provincial Hiroshima Airport so it was a very peaceful ride. And because the airport has been built on top of a mountain, there’s this little bit where the runway guide lights extend out into space:
Ruby actually asked me whether the planes go out on that orange thing and then shoot off the end. That was right near the end after all the hills; she was pretty tired I suppose.
We finished up at a lovely spot for our picnic overlooking the runway:
If you look reeeeeeeeally closely you can see a bit of a plane on the tarmac down below. Sorry about my knee there on the right.
By the time we had done all those hills we were very hot and sweaty, including our heads, which made me realise that the pathetic head coverings were probably a very good idea after all. I don’t think I’d want to strap on a helmet impregnated with the sweat of a thousand cyclists before me.
Back home at last, Felix and I decided to finish off the day in style with another trip to the local onsen (hot springs), this time during daylight hours so we could admire the view. In the past I’ve never been able to admire the view at scenic onsens because I figure I have to take my glasses off. Apart from the fact that they’d get all wet and foggy inside the bathhouse, there’s the feeling that one shouldn’t really be taking one’s glasses into a room full of naked men—surely it invites the reaction WHADDYOU PERVING AT MATE? But today, for the first time, I actually saw a guy wearing his glasses in, so I figure it must be OK after all. Hooray, another cultural barrier torn down, now I can enjoy the views at last.
Unless of course he was a pervert.
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Okonomiyaki master class
Okonomiyaki is my favourite Japanese food of all time. It’s generally described as Japanese pancake or omelette, but neither of these really does it justice. Most websites (such as this excellent one) refer by default to the inferior Osaka variation where they chuck all the ingredients in with the batter (ugh), as opposed to the Hiroshima version which as we all know is the only proper way to enjoy this marvellous dish. So in the interests of journalistic balance and completeness I hereby present the okonomiyaki masterclass, coming to you from a tiny shop just near Mihara station.
First you make a batter pancake. Note that it’s really thin; in fact this particular place makes them so thin as to be almost non-existent. Then you chuck the soba noodles straight on top of the pancake (they don’t even add the soba up in Osaka, poor things).
Now add a mountain of shredded cabbage on top. (FACT: Kids love okonimiyaki despite the fact that it’s full of cabbage.)
Next, put some crunchy things on top of the cabbage. This place uses bits of cooked tempura batter (which look to all the world like Rice Bubbles) and crispy fried squid things.
After this comes the meat (usually bacon or pork), or bits of octopus, prawn, squid, mochi (rice cakes — only for the super-hungry) or whatever else you’ve ordered.
Add a bit more batter on top. After all, that first pancake was pretty thin.
But why put more batter on top? Because now you’re going to flip it over again and again to make it flatter, like this:
The egg is optional. You can also have cheese should you require an extra protein boost.
Chuck a whole lot of chopped spring onions on the egg, or for those not having egg, on top of the pancake.
Now slather the whole thing with thick brown Okonimiyaki sauce. Dunno what’s in it but it sure tastes good.
Sprinkle liberally with the eleven secret herbs and spices known only to the chef and not to be revealed on pain of death by disembowelment:
As the final piece of resistance, add mayonnaise (optional but highly recommended).
See how the kiddies love it.
Of course you can buy all these ingredients down the supermarket, including the batter pre-mix (just add water) and the special sauce, although perhaps not the secret herbs and spices. You can cook it up in the comfort of your own home—but at about $20 for a family of four, why would you?
Not only is okonomiyaki cheap and filling, I like to think that it’s also quite a healthy balanced meal, in the same way that pizza is a healthy balanced meal: carbs, protein, fresh chopped vegies, what more could you want?
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Golden Week
Golden Week is like the Japanese equivalent of Easter, only without the eggs, the crass commercialism and the religion bit. OK, it’s nothing like Easter. It’s just a string of national holidays stitched together rather magnanimously by the government in order to create a decent holiday period at the end of April (for those who are interested, the official explanation of Golden Week is here).
Thursday April 29 was a holiday to commemorate the birth of Emporer Showa. Ruby had a soccer match down at Hiroshima but Eleni had some work on, so Felix and I headed down on the freeway to try out our shiny new e-tag device (which we purchased at great expense last month, only to discover that the government has just changed the laws and you don’t need one any more).Friday was a normal day, as only the truly generous schools/companies give their students/minions this day off as well. At five o’clock we all went into town as usual to drop Ruby off on her train to soccer practice. Her friend didn’t turn up so for the first time ever we sent her off to a faraway place all on her own with instructions to sit in a carriage with plenty of other passengers etc etc. Another milestone in the Letting Go process.
The three of us then went out for a meal of okonomiyaki, possibly the best food in the world in space, then indulged in a bit of Mihara nightlife, i.e. standing on the Shinkansen platform and watching them zoom past at 250 km/h.
OK so it doesn’t look that exciting on mobile phone video, but Felix loves it and it’s good for half an hour or so. Besides, there aren’t any cinemas in Mihara.
After all that excitement, Saturday was low-key. In the afternoon we all headed up to Fuchu, about an hour away in the mountains, for a practice match organised by Ruby’s Sanfrecce team. Eleni in particular was keen to go not only for the Family Drive in the Mountains aspect but also to revisit the excellent ¥100 shop just near the soccer ground that we discovered last time we were there.
On Sunday we invested in a barbeque at the local Chaddy and had some guests around for dinner. Japanese barbeques are nice and small and you use charcoal not gas; none of this quadruple burner with lid and separate gas ring business.However you do need to have your wits about you and get the charcoal going early (Daddy Mistake No. 1), have enough hot coals to cook everything properly (Daddy Mistake No. 2) and ensure an even distribution so that the things in the middle don’t burn to a blackened crisp (Daddy Mistake No. 3).
So we ended up eating a fair bit of charcoal on Sunday night, but it’s all part of the learning process and the next BBQ will be that much better.
Monday and Tuesday were our Big Trip Away. Golden Week is legendary for massive freeway congestion as the entire nation attempts to head out of the city and back to their ancient ancestral homes in the country. Over the weekend I was smirking as I listened to reports of 50-kilometre snarls and trains and planes booked to capacity out of Tokyo. That was, until we got caught in a beauty of our own just before lunch on Monday: only 15 km long according to the signs, but real bumper-to-bumper stuff, so that it took well over an hour to inch forward about 10 kilometres. Adding to the excitement was the fact that we were getting perilously low on petrol. 27 km to the next fuel stop seemed reasonable at the time, but there’s no better way to use up juice than travelling in first gear. We managed to make it to an exit and quickly hurtled down through the hills searching desperately for a servo like Mel in Mad Max 2. And ended up in a very picturesque city deep in a valley called Takahashi which was so nice we decided to come back some other time for a holiday, so it was all worth it in the end. Sort of.
The real purpose of the freeway experience was to spend a couple of days in Niimi, which is the family home of Sweden (nobody knows how he got this nickname), the guitarist from The Moment, the band I used to play in back in the Tokyo days, whose lead singer of course is none other than Yusuke, our man in Mihara. Incidentally Sweden, who is Japanese, now lives in France.
Niimi is a tiny hamlet of perhaps 30 houses tucked away in a fold of the hills and accessible only by a tiny mountain road. It really seems like the place that time forgot. This photo doesn’t really do it justice:
We stayed in Sweden’s mum and dad’s creaky old farmhouse together with a couple of other families. Altogether there were 17 of us and the futons were thick on the ground in the big communal tatami rooms that are typical of traditional houses. In the afternoon the kids played out on the roads:
while I went down to inspect the farming operations.
I even hoed a row of my own! (photo not available)
On the next day we headed down to the local fishing festival at a nearby town. Now the Sushi on a Stick household is not normally the slightest bit interested in fishing, and I for one was feeling rather ambivalent about it all, but in the end it was a great event. They’d blocked off sections of the river and stacked them with fish that apparently hadn’t been fed for a few days (cruel I know). So the fish were literally jumping onto the hooks and all of us managed to catch a few; even the cynical nearly-a-teenager enjoyed herself.
After all the fish had given themselves up, there was another event especially for primary school age kids, where a smaller pool over the other side of the bridge had been stacked with yet more fish and the kids had to grab them with their bare hands in a frenzy of screaming and splashing that lasted for about ten minutes solid. Felix ended up with a catch of three or four, some of which he scooped up in his hat; needless to say it now smells rather fishy.
We all piled back to the farmhouse and cooked up thousands of fresh fish on the barbeque and ate them for lunch.
For the return trip we decided to avoid the freeways until the evening and kill some time at none other than beautiful Takahashi where there is a castle, a Ye Olde bit of town complete with samurai residences, and an excellent mini-Chaddy where Ruby bought some jeans and she and Felix discovered one of those dance games where you have to tap your feet in time with the arrows on the screen and it boos you if you don’t do it properly. A bargain at only ¥100 per game.
We even managed to track down a nice restaurant that served soba noodles (tragically hard to find in Mihara; everyone eats udon around here) which made me very happy.
And readers will be pleased to know that there were no traffic jams on the way back, heaven be praised. So that’s it for Golden Week for this year. I’m exhausted.
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This blog is about the adventures of a family of Australian barbarians spending two years in the islands of southern Japan. Stay tuned for regular updates on the food, the culture, the earthquakes, the wacky festivals, the school system and more. 
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