Monday 2nd July - Go South Part Two: Iwakuni

The short dash from Mr Hayashi's place to Yanai Station was accomplished with minimal additional dampness and despite the fact that I had been caught in the light rain in Yanai, my weather-luck in general seemed to be holding out. I can say this with confidence since quite literally within two minutes of my stepping into the train station, the heavens opened for real and a proper downpour started, which I attempted to take pictures of but largely failed.

It had almost become amusing at this point, that the rain seemed to disappear when I arrived somewhere, then start again as I left (this even applied to Tokyo the first time, really, despite my early soaking there). At any rate, I had my fingers crossed that the same would apply to Iwakuni, as I waited for the train back in the direction I had come.

This time it was a bit busier than it had been late morning - I'd ended up staying in Yanai longer than I anticipated, what with the Tourist Information Hunt and the pause at Hayashi's Coffee. As a result, I caught the same train as a whole bunch of high school kids dispersing from Yanai to the smaller towns on the way to Iwakuni, which livened up the trip no end. My observation is that high school kids, when not constrained by adults (and obviously as a tourist I didn't count) are much the same everywhere. That was certainly true of these kids, and of the boys I observed outside Kagaonsen station, lurking about on their bikes and probably, for Japan, looking fairly intimidating... or at least I think that was what they were trying for.

At any rate, it was an interesting half an hour of covert people-watching as the kids dwindled with every stop   and we rolled into Iwakuni. My luck held - no rain to be seen, and none threatening either. It was a bit warmer than Yanai, but nothing like as bad as Hiroshima, and since it was already four in the afternoon, even that heat was starting to fade.

I didn't even bother attempting to walk to Kintai Bridge - apart from the fact that it was getting late and I had ice-cream I wanted to buy (I'll tell you later) - I had also read somewhere that the tourist maps in Iwakuni are exceptionally deceptive in how far/how complex the walk is from the station. Fortunately, Iwakuni being a city with a US military base, most everything is marked in English as well as Japanese, so catching a bus was a breeze.

I didn't see a great deal of Iwakuni from the bus, due to having a seat which was inexplicably lower than the windows for most of the journey (I eventually moved out of paranoia I would miss my stop). And what I did see suffered rather unfortunately by comparison to my earlier impressions of Yanai. Where Yanai was a nice blend of old and modern, with clean streets and public art, Iwakuni was a lot less polished, more neon and generally more what I expect from any given military base town anywhere.

Not so say that it was necessarily bad - I have seen a lot of nice things written about Iwakuni - I think it was just unfortunate that I had been elsewhere first and so it was difficult not to make the comparisons about the journey from the train station to the historic area. And anyway, none of that really mattered since I hadn't come to look at the town - it was the bridge that had caught my eye on the Internet and that was really what I wanted to see.

The bus stops right next to it, and for a couple of hundred yen you can walk across and back again - if the booths are closed there's an honesty box, since the place never closes. It's not the original bridge - despite lasting for centuries, that one washed away in 1950 after a particularly bad typhoon - but it is a faithful reconstruction, and not a style of bridge that I had yet encountered firsthand anywhere else, so well worth the visit in my book.

After paying my fee I took a leisurely walk across with plenty of pauses for photos and admiring the views. There was a nice gusting breeze once you hit the middle of the river, and that was quite welcome on what was still a pretty warm evening. It's a pretty amazing structure if you're a fan of functional yet attractive architecture, If you read the linked Wikipedia article above, there's a brief discussion of the various ways it's designed to withstand flood damage - and you can also marvel at the fact that until the latest rebuild, it existed without any use of nails or screws.

At the far side of the bridge is Iwakuni's historic area, with the reconstructed castle (reachable by a ropeway), various museums, Nikko Park, and a small square that earlier in the day is a popular spot for food and souvenir shopping. Most of the shops were closed by the time I got there, but that was okay, since all I really wanted to try was one of the 100 flavours of ice-cream that Iwakuni has become moderately famous for. Luckily for me, one of the ice-cream stands was still open, and what's more, it was right on the small square which is additionally famous for its population of stay cats who like to hang out there and be petted by visitors.

There were two cats in residence when I arrived, both some kind of Siamese cross going by their eyes, and both lounging on the wooden benches in the last of the sun. They both posed very prettily for me when I sat down to take their photos, and one of them followed me with some curiosity when I went to buy my ice-cream. There were indeed a whole raft of flavours, though this particular guy only sold about 30, and after passing over a variety of more peculiar choices, I settled on orange as being a flavour I had not tried before but not too alarming to the palate either.

Stray Cat agreed that my ice-cream was indeed quite delicious and took up a seat next to me on the bench near the shop, offering me a paw and a mewl from time to time to remind me that he was there. After some negotiation he deemed my fingers to be an acceptable alternative to an ice-cream spoon, after which we sat there and shared the sun, the lack of people, and the ice cream for a few minutes. I had forgotten how much like sandpaper cats' tongues are, but to his credit he was quite delicate about it all. If you're wondering about his friend, well she didn't seem to care about the ice-cream at all and was much more determined to continue lying in the sun undisturbed.

Ice-cream done and my farewells said to Stray Cat, I decided to take a walk around the general area of Nikko Park - there were still a few locals around kicking footballs about with their kids and walking their dogs, but otherwise it was mostly deserted. It's probably a pretty nice park when it's at its best, but there's clearly maintenance going on with the water features (the main fountain was switched off), and it could generally do with some maintenance work to tidy it up. It was pleasant enough though, and being able to watch turtles and koi swimming in the castle moat more than made of for the lack of frills.

The few folks I did run into in Iwakuni were uniformly cheerful and friendly, especially the two guys out walking some kind of dachshund - one of them decided to walk up to the top of a viewing point, only to find that the poor dachs couldn't get up the first few steps due to legs that were somewhat deficient in length. The second guy started laughing, looked over at me (I was sitting on a bench taking a picture of the view) then laughed even harder at his friend who was looking somewhat sheepish. To their credit, they didn't pick the dog up - the second guy bent down to make a great show of helping the dog get up the steps, while still laughing like a drain.

All in all I spent about an hour wandering around, just looking at the various statues, fountains, old houses and bits of gardens that were visible from the Park. I'm sure that I could have spent longer if I had arrived earlier in the day when the museums were open, but I was quite content with the evening stroll after having visited a metric ton of museums and the like over the preceding ten days.

Eventually I turned back towards Kintai Bridge, only to be pulled up by the sight of an American guy, his wife and two kids all watching a snake that had come down from one of the trees by the river and was attempting to wrap itself around a street sign. It was easily one of the longest snakes I have ever seen, and while I'm pretty sure it was harmless, I didn't get close enough to find out but instead used full zoom on the iPhone to get a picture. Rather spookily, once it had given up on its exertions and returned to its tree, I noticed that despite its size it was extremely hard to spot. Then I started wondering how many snakes in trees I might have stood under unwittingly while roaming around the likes of Hida Folk Village.

The American guy turned out to be from the base (of course) and his wife was from Yokohama, where I was intending to visit on the 4th. They were just out for an evening stroll and to pick up some on-sale tickets for a sento/onsen nearby, so I ended up walking back with them over the bridge, as we talked about Yokohama, Yokosuka, and the places I had been. Turned out the guy was a bit of a foodie, so we was interested in what I had to tell him about Kanazawa's Omi-Cho market and the food I had eaten in Koyasan.  he seemed quite surprised I had been to Yanai earlier in the day, confirming my suspicion that it's not really a destination for Western visitors, though he had obviously been there a few times himself.

At the other side of the bridge we said our goodbyes - they told me where to catch the bus, but also where to get a good dinner if I wanted one, and where the sento/onsen with the sale was in case I fancied a leisurely soak before I went back to Hiroshima.  In fact I did neither of those things - I had actually intended to stay later in Iwakuni to watch the cormoramt fishing that goes on there most nights, but by this time it was about 7pm and I was completely knackered.

 I did consider staying, but the idea of waiting another hour for fishing that may or may not happen on a Monday was not particularly appealing given that I knew it would take about two hours to get back to my hotel in Hiroshima where I still had to pack for the next day's journey to Tokyo.  And once again I could tell that rain was threatening, which added to the negatives. It was a shame, because I would have loved to watch the cormorant and the fishermen at work, but In the end I just waited for the next bus to come around, then got started on the first leg of the bus-train-tram journey.

Getting back to Hiroshima was easy enough, but I was increasingly tired and hungry, so it felt longer than it actually was. I was so tired and hungry, in fact, that I ended up just buying convenience store food by the tram stop and taking it back to the hotel to eat while I packed. There was more Wimbledon on the TV, and so that was my entertainment between folding, rolling and bagging up all the clothes that I had been hanging the creases out of before the last leg of my trip.

It was kind of sad to be leaving Hiroshima, much as I was looking forward to Tokyo and to the Buck-Tick shows. But at the same time I was aware that I was more than halfway through my trip and that a week from now I'd be packing to go home, which made it a sadder affair than it probably should have been. Though really, when I reflected back on how much I had done, seen and achieved in my time travelling around, it was hard to be down for too long. Honestly, I was surprised myself at how well everything had gone and how little I had been either lost, confused or unable to communicate.

I finished off the night by popping downstairs for more of the hotel's bath salts so that I could have a long soak to wash away the travel grit. I also ordered a taxi for the following morning  I had already booked my bullet train seats to Shin-Osaka, then from Shin-Osaka to Shinagawa before I'd hopped on the train to Iwakuni and Yanai that morning, so all I had to do was get up and check out. But after tackling the trams with only one bag I had no real desire to try it with two, especially during the rush hour period. And I had not spent anywhere near my budget for Hiroshima, so I figured I could treat myself to one more taxi ride.

• More pictures of  Iwakuni and the trip out are on my Flickr here
• I took a break from Buck-Tick when I got back to the hotel, and instead had an evening of Brit oldies, including this one by Tones on Tail.

Monday 2nd July - Go South Part One: Yanai

Monday was another steamy day in Hiroshima, and after initially venturing out to have a look around the shopping and commercial district first thing, I decided that the day would be far better spent somewhere considerably more air-conditioned... like, say, on a train.

Luckily, I had planned a possible excursion from Hiroshima down to a city called Iwakuni and beyond there, to Yanai, so it seemed like the time to pull out that card and use it, despite my slight nervousness about using local train lines to more obscure destinations considering my lack of Japanese.

Iwakuni is a well-travelled destination - there's a US military base there as well as the famous bridge that was the main reason I wanted to go, but Yanai... that's another story. I had found snippets on Wikitravel to attract me to it in the first place, but no-one else on any forum I looked or asked could give me any more info. Consequently it was little more than the sketchiest of destinations in terms of knowing what to expect or how to get there.

But fortune favours the bold, right? Or at least that's what i told myself. Along with the reminder that on a day that's hotter and more humid than a sweaty dog's left bollock, sitting on clean, air-conditioned trains and riding around the countryside admiring the views was probably a more sensible use of my time than slogging around a city centre.

So it was that I ended up catching the streetcar back down to the station in the late morning, then getting back on the same train which the day before I had taken to at Miyajimaguchi. This time though, I kept on going through to the terminus at Iwakuni, before changing there for an onward train to Yanai. I could have explored Iwakuni first, but it made more sense to me to go to the furthest destination first (and also I knew that the bridge at Iwakuni - my main interest there - stayed open all night ]with an honesty box], whereas I had no idea about Yanai).

Yanai and getting to it was the part I was mostly nervous about, since I was aware that beyond Iwakuni I was getting into less travelled by Western tourists territory, just like I did when I was visiting Natadera, and I have an irrational paranoia about getting on the wrong train (even if really, it doesn't matter much since I had a JR Pass and could just get off and change again for no cost if I had to). But fortunately my shorthand Japanese was sufficient to ascertain that the train waiting on the opposite side of the platform to the one I exited at Iwakuni was indeed the onward train that passed through Yanai, and I am very grateful to the two train drivers/conductors in peaked caps and white gloves who efficiently and cheerfully answered my query, especially since they were clearly off-duty.

Up until Iwakuni, and even just beyond it, things were fairly built-up, since the stretch between Hiroshima and Iwakuni is urbanised, but as the train passed into less metropolitan areas the view opened up accordingly; clearer views of the sea interspersed with rural fields of green and the hard industrial architecture of power stations and factories. It's a contrast I am particularly fond of, having grown up in a Yorkshire that was still a giant among the coal-mining counties of the '70s. I never tire of that kind of aesthetic and greatly regret that tendency these days to try and separate the two as if modern life cannot tolerate the (apparently) unholy bond of industry and agriculture (or indeed to try and pretend that in many ways they're not entirely alike at this point in time - hello battery farming). The effect was especialy heightened by the fact that the further I got from Hiroshima the more ominous the skies became, and it was pretty obvious that at some point the rain was coming - I just hoped that given my lack of an umbrella, my luck on the weather front held up long enough to get me back to Hiroshima without a soaking.

I took far more pictures than are on display on my Flickr feed as a result (most of them didn't make the cut later due to bad lighting - I had to be harsh to make sure I had enough room on my phone to take more), and no doubt was an object of curiosity to the locals for my interest in the kind of view most tourists pass through with their eyes closed. But hey, I stood out like a sore thumb at this point anyway, so what do. I think all in all the journey took the best part of two hours, but I did manage to establish that I was on the right train, and I did manage to get off at Yanai just fine - into what was possibly the smallest station I passed through on the entire trip. It even had less platforms than Kagaonsen, due to the fact that the fast trains all take a different route along the (further inland) shinkansen route, and none stop in the city itself.

I had established enough from the info on Wikitravel to know that I had to head directly away from the station to the historic part of Yanai, the so-called "street with white walls". But to my surprise, as soon as I stepped onto what was clearly the main road through town, I found signage for the cultural sights in both Japanese and English. Granted, they were just general direction signs with distances against them, and they would serve to confuse me further within 30 minutes but HEY, the point is that even in a city (and honestly it's pretty small for a city) off the normal western tourist track, there was English signage. Which I think is pretty impressive compared to what you might expect in reverse in a smaller town in the UK.

The first thing that struck me about Yanai was how clean it was - and generally how well-kept, from the public buildings to the road construction and maintenance. Everything looked either new or well looked after, and in the public toilets outside the library (which were Western style, by the way) there was a vase of fresh flowers next to the wash basins. The symbol of Yanai is a goldfish, and specifically a goldfish lantern - they were in several of the souvenir shops, but also had been hung in covered public rest areas and rendered in mosaics by the road as public art. I have no idea what he story is behind it, but it was a cheerful enough symbol and I ended up buying a little handmade coin purse and some origami make-it-yourself goldfsih, since I knew a lantern would get destroyed if I tried to pack one. But at any rate, I had only walked around for half an hour or so in Yanai before I decided that actually, small as it was, I really liked the place.

I liked their roadside maps less, since I wasted another half an hour trying to find a Tourist Information Centre which it later transpired I had passed several times.... because it was closed and had no outside signage *gnashes teeth*. This had completely messed up my direction-finding because it had deprived me of something to anchor my landmarking on (TICs are great fpr this purpose, and I often use them in my head as map-centres). So we will gloss over the amount of additonal walking and swearing that occurred during that portion of my visit and until I accidentally stumbled on a second Tourist Information Centre, which explained some of the confusion surrounding my attempt to find the first one (I think I got some of the signs for the one confused with signs for the other, and thus was going round in a circle).

However, YAY, TIC - and that means I managed to acquire a map which had English information on it, even if the person staffing the TIC did not speak any herself. Yes, it was one of those "artists impression" maps that were the bane of my life while I was in Japan, but at least it gave me a vague notion of what I was looking at as I retraced my steps through the historic "Street with White Walls". Yanai really is very pretty, despite the gloomy weather and the lack of people (Mondays in early July are obviously not a busy day for tourism of any kind), so I ambled around the streets and alleys just enjoying the Edo era ambience and architecture and being greeted cheerfully by locals. There were quite a lot of them about, occupied with cutting up tree branches, decorating them with paper goldfish and placing them randomly about the town. I assume, though I didn't have the Japanese to ask, that this activity was related to the upcoming Tanabata but either way, it stopped the streets from being completely empty, which was nice.

I didn't go into any of the designated museums while I was in Yanai, mostly because I was conscious of time (the afternoon was ticking away and I still had Iwakuni to visit) and because I had a sneaking feeling that they didn't cater to the English visitor save for the one that was a long way from the centre of town. But I did decide that I had to go and see the willow tree that is said to be the origin of the name of the town - and this was where I found out just how helpful the people of Yanai really are...

There are two types of pedestrian crossing in Japan, you see - one kind operates automatically with no required input from those waiting to cross UNLESS you are blind/partially sighted and wish to press a button for audible alerts. The other kind is much like pelican crossings in the UK, in that you have to press a button to get the lights to change. I know this. I knew this in Yanai. I had run into both kinds early on in Kanazawa and noted the difference in regard to the buttons you need to press and the signage that marked them. Also, if in doubt in Japan, you NEVER cross unless the light is green and invites you to. It's a bit like Germany in that regard, though not quite as strict. Generally though it's best not to risk jaywalking - apart from anything else, having observed this from inside taxis as well as from the roadside, Japanese drivers don't respond quickly or well to it if you misjudge your crossing. Anyway - despite my familiarity with pedestrian crossings by this point of my trip, on this afternoon in Yanai I was preoccupied with a map and the fact that it was just starting to rain, after hours of grey skies. I'm not sure how long I had been waiting, in the rain, peering at a map - but long enough I guess that a car unexpectedly pulled up across the road (which was practically empty) so that the driver could get out, walk across to my side of the street, press the button on the crossing and bow/smile at me. Hahaha, well, that was probably about as stupid as I felt the entire holiday. It was kind of worse in that this wasn't something I didn't know, just a lack of observational skills. Ah well.

Another local pointed in the appropriate direction when he saw me pause and consult the map for specific directions to the willow tree and so I found it with minimal fuss but moderate embarrassment. I really want to go back to Yanai again one day, preferably armed with a bit more time and Japanese knowledge so that I could tackle the museums with more confidence. It was one of those towns that you can't help but feel affectionate towards.

Oh - and I forgot to mention that there is a building on the main road that essentially is a giant, working musical box. It plays tunes every fifteen minutes or so and you can sit about on benches and enjoy it. How random is that? I didn't stop to enjoy either that or the public art on display I am afraid, as the rain was really starting to set in, and I was racing the downpour back to the station. Unfortunately the rain was faster than I was, but luckily I spotted a small shop that called itself Hayashi's Coffee and ducked inside there, more in hope than conviction that it not only sold coffee to take home and make into drinks, but also sold ACTUAL hot drinks made by a proprietor (it really wasn't obvious or not from the outside, despite the lovely aroma of ground coffee that wafted out).

In general, good coffee is hard to find in Japan (though goodness knows, Kanazawa seems determined to crack this problem, what with its proliferation of coffee shops on every corner). Not to say you can't buy coffee pretty much everywhere, it's just usually pretty awful. And I say this as a Brit, whose nation's coffee culture and quality standards aren't exactly fantastic either, let's face it. Like Japan, we're also largely a tea culture, and no amount of Costas, Starbucks or Neros are ever going to change that, or the fact that instant coffee sells like gangbusters in supermarkets over the real stuff, while instant tea fell into relative obscurity before the first adverts were even fading on the billboards.

Personally I am an equal opportunity hot drink fancier, and while I can tolerate a fair degree of mediocrity in all directions (just no sugar in my tea thanks, you heathens), it is a distinct pleasure to actually have something that tastes decent now and then. I had little expectation of Hayashi's Coffee, especially given the evident surprise and moderate uncertainty on (presumably) Mr Hayashi's face when confronted by a slightly damp Western woman clutching a wilting map and with only just enough Japanese to wish him a good afternoon and indicate an interest in purchasing hot beverages. To his credit, he got over it fast, gesturing to me to sit down and bringing over a menu (all in Japanese of course, but it didn't really matter since all I wanted was coffee and cake, which was pretty simple to work out). And once I had picked out a cake I liked the look of and asked for a coffee with milk, I sat back to watch Mr  Hayashi at work and check out the shop.

Basically the cafe bit is just a couple of tables and a bar at the back, the tables having rather incongrously been dressed with what looked like tartan travel rugs in blue and green. There are signs up indicating that mobile telephones are not allowed (I can't remember about smoking) and there were a couple of shelves of art books (in Japanese) over on one side - presumably intended for patrons to browse while they drink their coffee. All in all, I suspect that Hayashi's Coffee is probably the Japanese equivalent of independent coffee shop heaven.

I have no idea how Mr Hayashi came to be the owner of that shop, given that the old guys who were lounging at the bar indulging in his coffee while I was there looked more like farmers on a day off than anything else - between the three of them (including Mr Hayashi) it could have passed for a scene from the Japanese equivalent of Last of the Summer Wine. Maybe this is a retirement gig for Mr Hayashi? Maybe it's a late midlife crisis? Who knows. I speculated on it quite a bit, but didn't draw any conclusion, except that Mr Hayashi might be something to do with the city council or trade association, since he seemed to be in charge of some kind of calendar depicting the area, which he was showing to his cronies. They seemed to find this quite funny, but there were no nudes, so I detected old-friend-ribbing at work.

At any rate, Mr Hayashi took his time with that coffee, making it from scratch just in the same way that the lady in Kanazawa's Yamada tea shop had with my pot of assam. It's the longest I have waited for a cup of coffee in a long time, but it was also the best cup of coffee I had the entire time I was in Japan, and his cake wasn't half bad either. I would have taken a picture of the shop, had I not had to make a dash to the station after I left in order to avoid the rain. Oh - and before I left Mr Hayashi offered me a plastic bag for my sunhat too, bless him, although I declined with many thanks. So if you're ever in Yanai, stop by Mr Hayashi's place and give him some business - he totally deserves it, and there are worse places to spend an afternoon than Yanai in general, really. It ended up being one of the highlights of my trip, which just shows that getting off the well worn track can be well worth the time and effort.

• More pictures of  Yanai and the trip out are on my Flickr here
• I was warming up for the upcoming BUCK-TICK gigs when I went to Yanai, and when I walked through the Street of White Walls, it was Solaris that was playing in my head.