Showing posts with label tokushima. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tokushima. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

AAAH! WHALE SHARK!

(Umeda OS Hotel, Osaka)

The Agnes has to have been the quietest accommodation I’ve had this trip. It was appreciated, greatly appreciated.

A continental breakfast was included in the cost of my room, so I went downstairs fairly early to get eating out of the way. It was a continental breakfast in the loosest possible definition of the term. There was some toast, and eggs, and from there it went weird. There were frankfurts available, a garden salad, miso soup, tofu, some sweet seaweed package things that were tasty and bizarre – but they had orange juice. They got that bit right.

I checked out, left my bags, and headed over to the bus terminal. I figured an hour and a half would give me enough lee way with travel time to get lost and get my bearings again. There was no romanji to be seen at the terminal, so I had to ask where the bus for Naruto Koen (park) was; fyi, bus stop #1, bus #27. This bus leaves on the hour, every hour, which was cutting it fine, as the height of tide change was slated to be at 10.

The driver of this bus was actually surly, which pleased me to no end. About time someone was disgruntled and bored and not the least bit inclined to be bright and perky at customers. The trip took just under an hour.

There are two viewing options for the whirlpools, either by sightseeing boat, or on a walkway constructed beneath a bridge going over the strait. None of the signs at any of the stops were romaji, so I ended up opting for the boat trip, if only because it was obvious to make out when the bus stopped. I’m still not sure, having gawked around a bit, how to get to the walkway.

The boat was 2100 yen for Aqua Eddy, which zipped out to the strait pretty much straight away. There were windows in the hull to view the whirlpools from beneath the water, but there wasn’t much to see. The view was much better from the deck.



The tide difference at the strait is 1.2 metres, so every day on the change whirlpools are created. Alas, they weren’t as deep or steady as I’d hoped they’d be. They were definitely there, but there were no giant raging maelstroms (not that I was really expecting giant raging maelstroms, but you know…). At a new or full moon, they might be bigger (I haven’t seen the moon since arriving here). During the king tides, they’d definitely be worth checking out. Otherwise, they’re not quite impressive enough to feel like time and money well spent.

The buses back to Tokushima station were few and far between, and I had to wait an hour for one to turn up. I arrived back at the station with just enough time for a quick lunch before picking up my bags and jumping on the bus to Osaka.

Sitting in on the bus was like swallowing a whole bottle of sleeping pills. I don’t remember the trip. Vague glimpse of the Sea of Japan, as we went over the bridge to Honshu, but that’s it. Methinks I was tired.

Osaka station is, of course, another great sprawling maze of interconnecting buildings and various levels of basement, and it took me several walkings back and forth before I’d identified enough landmarks to know where in the station I was, and what direction I should be heading. Thankfully, my hotel was quite tall, and had a nice big and bloody obvious neon sign at the top, which made it easy to locate, but not to get to. This area is a maze. Just finding a way to cross the road took some exploring.

After a very thorough shower, I ventured out for dinner. There’s a shopping centre across the road, so I figured I should be able to find something in the basement levels. I don’t think I should be allowed underground. I have even less sense of direction underneath the streets, and these basement levels actually spanned across several buildings and blocks.

The problem with the bigger cities is not finding somewhere to eat, but choosing somewhere to eat. Even me, on my own, not trying to cater to another person’s whims or preferences, had a terrible time picking a spot. I ended up finding somewhere quiet that served cold noodles. Interestingly, most of the other customers were single women as well. There were plenty of izakaya around (sort of street-side pub/feeding holes that deal specifically with the after work crowd), but they tended to be very busy, and full of business men. I’m game, but not quite game enough to be the only woman in the place, especially lacking any other company, being a clear gaijin, and being as front heavy as I am.

I will say this, Japanese men do not know how to be covert about checking out boobs. Probably because there aren’t any boobs in this country to check out. They haven’t had the chance to develop the art of a subtle headcheck.

This was followed by a glamorous evening sitting in the laundry.

I let myself sleep in this morning, which felt luv-er-ly. Osaka being much smaller than Tokyo, the subway is much easier to use, and I got to the Tempouzan Village area without hassle. My goal there was the Osaka Aquarium, which despite setting out from the station with no real idea of where it was, I found easily. It’s a pretty distinctive building (but the real trick is to just head towards the ferris wheel).

Would you like to know a secret? You’ll never guess it. I’ll tell you: I like fishy things. I know! Who’da thunk it? It’s a strange old world, innit.

2000 yen is about standard fare for aquarium admissions. I know it costs more to get into the Melbourne Aquarium, and that one is a hole and gives you legionnaires disease. Trufax.

This aquarium just rocks the motherfucking kazbar. Trufuckingfax.

It has several tanks pertaining to different marine ecosystems, and the path moves down in a spiral through them, so that you visit each tank several times, at different depths, to see what fishies are lurking around. All sorts of marine habitats were on display, from the Panama Gulf to Antarctica to the Great Barrier Reef and so on. Sea otters are bloody enormous in real life. I though I was watching two otters have a wrestle, but it turned out to be one otter having a very involved scratch. Huge! And so adoreable!


(This guy is just a normal otter, not a sea otter. The big guys wouldn't stay still long enough for a non-blurry picture, where as this little guy was more than happy to pose for the camera.)


(For some reason, this little guy had climbed up a couple of metres out of his tank, and was lodged in that little nook in the wall. I'm guessing all the other crabs were bullies, and had stolen his lunch box, and pushed him over, and he was plotting an elaborate revenge. It involved peanuts, no doubt, and was very exciting.)

I had the slight and amusing misfortune of entering the same time as a stack of primary school students. Little kids in enclosed spaces are aural torture. It hurt, I tells you, it hurt. Also, little kids play dirty when it comes to getting a place by the tank.


(Nasty, tricksy little hobbitses.)


(You're seeing right: there is a duck in that tank. To be fair, it's a duck from PANAMA, but still...a duck. Can't escape the rascally rascals.)


(The penguins loved the guy cleaning their ice. They followed him around, flapping and wiggling. He gave one of them a rub under the chin.)


(I caught this octopus with tentacle inserted in gill. Pretty sure that's the same as having finger inserted in nose. As you can see, le octopus got terribly fluffed up about having been caught, and having a camera drawn.)


(This school of fish was just hanging, all at the same angle, not moving. Creepy.)

The main attraction of the aquarium is the Pacific Ocean tank, which is home to a WHALE SHARK. Wait, I think some of you might have missed that. I saw a WHALE SHARK. He was king of the tank, he was. Swimming around in lazy circles with a whole posse of fish trailing in his wake. He actually wasn’t as big as I’d believed, but still a big fishie.




(WHALE SHARK!)

In the same tank, but in a netted off section, was a manta ray. Said manta ray was so big, it totally could have taken on Mr Whale Shark. Hence the net, maybe. Manta Ray was beautiful, zooming around, and around, and around.


(You can make the 'zoom, zoom' sound effects yourself.)

In yet another tank was a Sun fish. Yeah! I was terribly happy to see one, even if it was small and floating up on the surface waiting for someone to come and preen it. For some reason, it was netted off from ALL the other fish in its tank. Presumably, sun fish don’t play well with others. There were also a great many signs asking people to please not agitate the sun fish with ‘flames of flashlight’ from their cameras. Sensitive critters. Daft critters. It was kissing its own reflection.


(You can make the "duuurh, duuurh" sound effects yourself.)


(I, Ugly.)


(This lot kept going round, and round, and round the rock, and had probably been doing so since they were dropped in the tank. It was hypnotic, like a large, living lava lamp.)

There were two old men keeping pace with my ambulations. I took a liking to them. They stood out from the hordes of young couples who would cry ‘kawai!’ against the window, snap a photo on their phone, and then move on. These two stood and nattered comfortable by each tank, pointing out individual fish and taking the time to actually see what was before them. It was the one time the language barrier made me sad.


(Porcupine Fish, not to be confused with Puffer Fish. Do you think the little fuckers would stay still for the camera? Nooooo. Turds. I heard them mutter, "fucking paparazzi," as I walked away.)

Most of the posters advertising the aquarium feature cute happy crabs. I would like to point out that the crabs are also FUCKING ENORMOUS and CREEPY AS ALL HELL to look at. They’re not cute. They’re scary. I was on to something with my giant crab story, I tell ya.


(I reiterate: creepy as all hell.)


(Even more disturbing when the big crab has the small crab up against the wall like a prison bitch...)

The best room was kept till last – jelly fish! A great many beautiful wobbly jelly fish, I did love them over and over and over.


("You're invading my personal space there, partner.")


(Too funky for bones.)

Unfortunately, the shop at the end mostly stocked the cute animals – seals, otters, dolphins – but I did manage to find some ugly fish hidden away in there. I bought myself a plush ‘piraucu’ (lungfish), of all things.

The Tempouzan Harbour Village was right next door, so I figured I’d give it a squiz. It’s mostly full of kitschy shops for tourists, but there were a couple of neat places on there. One shop I found sold samurai armour. I couldn’t tell if they were replicas or originals, but they cost a hell of a lot more than I could afford. Pity.

I was sucked into a Ninja House, which was a bit like the Ice Land exhibit at Yokohama. It wasn’t a haunted house, it was a ninja house, full of weird little corners and rooms, and portcullises that didn’t quite stab you in the head and ninja dummies that jumped out of nowhere. Terribly cheesy, and terribly amusing. Not 500 yen wasted.


(I don't know what was going on with this guy either. I activated the room a couple of times, to check I wasn't missing something, but no, it's a ninja in the bath with his tub on his head.)

For lunch I landed in a place called Fugetsu, which did the Osakan specialty; okonomiyaki. Part pancake, part pizza, part omlette, part patty, all yummy. All the tables had hot plates built in. The staff brought the ingredients to my table, stabbed them all into submission, and plopped the mass down onto the plate to cook. It was an agonising wait, it smelt that good. I had squid and prawn (it was written as shrimp on the menu, which is WRONG), covered in whatever sauce they offered, and it was awesome. Very different from all other Japanese food I’ve eaten, it has a bigger, fuller taste, and instead of each ingredient being segregated off from the rest, it was all mashed together. Great, tasty good stuff.



I jumped on the ferris wheel while I was in the area. This one claims to be the biggest in the world, at 112 metres. The view was quite short, as there was a humidity and pollution haze pretty thick in the air, but it gave an excellent view of the city. Osaka seems to be full of interesting and strange buildings and domes.


(Your standard "I'm up high look at the city" pikchur.)


(Apartment blocks on the harbour. People stare in their windows everyday.)

Osaka-jo (the castle) was on the same subway line, so I figured I might as well squeeze a visit in. The castle is a replica, built in 1931, and in itself is nothing special. Beautiful from the outside, but no effort has been made to make it a ‘castle’, as such.



That said, it was well worth the visit to see the museum housed inside the castle, which features various exhibits and displays on the life of Toyotomi Hideyoshi, the man who began the unification of Japan (a process completed by Tokugawa Ieyasu). I had always assumed that the Toyotomis and Tokugawas were always at war, like feuding neighbours, but today learned that at one point, Ieyasu actually worked for Hideyoshi, and it was only after Hideyoshi’s death that Ieyasu went off and got his own ideas. They have some excellent artefacts on display; hand written letters, armour and weapons, art works and more. There was also English signage and explanations everywhere, which was wonderful.


(A rather elaborate set of models reconstructing the initial battle between Toyotomi Hideyoshi and Tokugawa Ieyase, from memory.)

From there, I jumped on the subway again, this time for Dotonbori. Dotonbori is basically a strip designed to haul in tourists; its glitzy and full of elaborately-fronted restaurants and neon signs and intricate lights. A place to enjoy the spectacle, and people watch. I had myself another Osakan specialty for dinner, fried octopus balls, before meandering around. One of the pictures you see quite often of this area is a restaurant with a giant mechanical moving crab out the front. Well, I found three such restaurants. And three fugu restaurants as well, so I’ll be going back tomorrow night to have my fugu dinner.









Ebisu-bashi is toted as having a Bladerunner-esque view (I’d already found that in Tokyo), but unfortunately the bridge is undergoing some refurbishing, and was full of shielding and scaffolding. They weren’t kidding though. It’s ground to rooftop neon advertising back there, great stuff.



I snuck into a quiet tea room for dessert, and had a fantasic bowl of green tea ice cream, red beans, jelly and cream. Nom nom nom. I’m not half tempted to go again, if I survive my dinner tomorrow.

Monday, September 17, 2007

I DIED A GLORIOUS CULINARY DEATH

I'm posting out of order, but this is important.



They didn't have any fugu. Nor did they have an english menu, or those terribly useful plastic display models of their dishes, or photos I could point at. I figured, since I was prepared to pay for a fugu dinner (which is generally over $100), I might as well go ahead and have some fun, and asked them to choose my dinner for me.

I think this put the young waiter in a bit of a spin, but a grizzly old man came and sat next to me, and after we'd attacked the two-way dictionary I had, he badgered his chef-minions into line. Neither he or any of his staff spoke a single word of english, so once it was established that I wanted dinner, it was left at that.

First, I was served a small plate of sashimi, the freshest I've had yet. There was some surprisingly soft and succulent squid, and some unidentifiable fish to go with it. I was instructed to squeeze lime juice all over them, the Tokushima lime being something of a local delicacy, dip them in soy sauce, and pig in. Oh, lovely.

Then was brought another small plate of yakitori; a grilled chicken skewer, and a croquette of...something. I'm not sure what, but it had gristly bits in it. He decided I needed some green tea to go with this, and made a cup up for me.

I though that was about it, as sashimi and yakitori seemed to be the place's specialty, but no! Grizzly old man brought out another plate, this containing a whole fish, beautifully steamed and served with mushrooms, bamboo shoots and soy sauce. It wasn't a large fish, pretty much the perfect size for one person, and so very tender. I ripped that apart and picked the bones clean.

I figured that would be the end, and I was starting to feel full, but no! Again, another small plate was brought out, this with a portion of fried fish. The skin on this fish was crispy and fucking amazing. Grizzly old man squeezed lime all over it, and then drowned a pile of...something, in soy sauce, and directed me to eat it with the fish. Mouth so happy! I asked him what the 'something' was, and he said 'yama'. I only know 'yama' as mountain, but according to the dictionary, it is also grated and seasoned yam. He added 'daikon', and that I recognised. Chinese radish. I can't order dinner to save my life, but I know a radish when I hear it.

That had to be the end. Right? BUT NO! Grizzly old man brought out a last plate of freshly prepared sushi. Prawn, tuna, squid, and three other fish unknown to me. One of them was surprisingly sweet. I ate these slowly, as I was definitely feeling my capacity. I might look like a huge heffalump gaijin, but I don't have that much space in my tummy.

BUT NO! Grizzly old man brought out a bowl of miso soup, which had a piece of fried something that came from the sea in it. I was having great fun, I have to tell you that.

And that was most definitely the end of dinner. Yet when I stood up to pay, grizzly old man said "chotto matte", "just a moment", sat me down again, and brought out a glass of fruit, all done up to look every so pretty. I just started giggling.

Now if grizzly old man had been the one to say "I be your Japanese boyfriend, ne?", I'd have been all over that. That was fucking awesome, the best food I've had this whole trip, and terrific fun to boot. He gave me his business card, and if I've translated it right, the restaurant is Tokusan, just across the road from the Agnes Hotel, in Tokushima city, Shikoku.



I'm so doing that again.
Mah belly r fuhl

(The Agnes Hotel, Tokushima)

I’ve already jumped the gun and posted about my spectacular dinner experience, so I’ll fill in the rest of the day, which shouldn’t take long at all. I can hear bikies doing burnouts up the main road.

The flight to Tokushima was uneventful and quick. We were mostly over the ocean, but every now and then skipped over some of Honshu’s peninsulas, and the bird’s eye view was a bit of a turn off. What I saw convinced me never to swim at those beaches; all the rivers run straight into the sea, and the water is brown for kilometres, especially up against the shore. Ick.

Something about Japan attracts clouds. The skies will be clear all around, except over one tiny island, where BHAM! Cloud. Yes, mounains, I know. Still, an awful lot of cloud.

JAL economy is very comfortable. I’m used to flying budget in Australia, so the big cushy chairs were a nice surprise. A good thing, given flying domestically in Japan costs so much I’d have rather just given them my firstborn.

Although the ticket vending machine for the bus from Tokushima airport was all in kanji, the bus driver was loitering next to it, and helped me out. The buses from the airport to the station are timed to coincide with flight arrivals, so he was making sure he had everyone who wanted to hop on.

Tokushima is hot. Quite possibly hotter than Kamakura. Japan, c’mon, seriously. It’s the middle of September, cool down already.

At the information kiosk at the station I managed to, all in Japanese, get the times for the tide changes tomorrow, find out where to buy tickets for the bus to Osaka, and learn the correct direction for my hotel. Whoo!

The Agnes is a stylish western/business hotel, with a highly tempting patisserie on the ground floor. My room is all in subtle shades of green and grey, and I feel rather like I’m in the Matrix because of it.

I headed out straight away, on a quest to buy my bus ticket. This proved not so straight forward, as the ticket counter had moved from where I was told, but asking at the bus stop set me on the right path again. Good thing I bought it today, as the queues at the bus stop were huge. Only 3600 yen too, which isn’t bad.

Originally, I’d thought to visit the first two temples on the pilgrimage of the 88 temples of Shinkoku, but it was hot, damn hot, and I didn’t feel like getting even 1/44th of enlightenment. There was a man on my flight starting out on that pilgrimage. It takes about three months to walk from temple to temple around the island, on the journey to enlightenment. I wish him fine weather and good luck. Me, I explored the streets around the station area, poked in at the park, before retreating to air conditioning.

Tomorrow, the whirlpools of Naruto!

(Post ETA: I booked the Agnes by firing off an english email to the address on their all Japanese website, and hoping. They have an english speaker in their staff, and that was enough for me to reserve a room. More free wifi.)
I think, judging by the sign, that there is a fugu (puffer fish) restaurant across the road.

!!!

Today is the day. If you never hear from me again, you know the cook fudged it, and I died a glorious culinary death. (Actually, from what I hear, death by fugu is pretty much instantaneous and painless.)
leaving on a jet plane

(Haneda Airport)

Despite being tired and run down, it took me hours to get to sleep last night, and even then, I woke every hour. Ah-bleeeegh.

I checked out of Hotel Mori at 9. It’s a pricey standard western hotel. Clean and neat with good room facilities, but I’m not quite sure the price was justified by the quality or the location. Regardless, I appreciated the space to string up my washing (those travel clothes lines aren’t just for camping, couldn’t have done without it) and the free wifi.

Getting to Haneda Airport from Kamakura was surprisingly easy, and took only an hour. The Yokosoko line to Shinagawa, and from there the Kiekyu line to Haneda. The set up here is you check in, and then go somewhere else to check your luggage, but unlike other airports I can think of, they have more than enough staff on to munch through the queues steadily.

Sitting now at the gate lounge, having finished my bento set. See, I have learned a bit. Instead of waiting till arriving in Tokushima to eat, which would be around 2pm, I have eaten now! Go me. I wasn’t sure if eating at gate lounges was against etiquette, as I could see no one else doing it, but at this point in time I feel it is okay for me to play the stupid lumbering gaijin card.

A couple of observations;

If using the online rail websites such as hyperdia.com to plot a route through the train system, do not, do not ever attempt to use a route that gives you only five minutes to switch lines. This might be possible if you’re at a remote rural station with only a handful of platforms all in sight of each other, but at most stations, you’ll spend those five minutes just getting to the exit. Shinjuku especially needs at least, at the very least, half an hour between arriving and departing, because you’ll wander around like a lost dog with no idea where you are.

I’ve been pretty relaxed about train hopping, not looking so much at times, but what lines and stations I need to get where I’m going, and winging it from there.

Dammit. Apparently putting food in my stomach makes it ravenous. Isn’t the opposite supposed to happen?

I don’t know why they play bird song on the station platforms. Twittering is okay on the open air lines, but the sound of seagulls is a bit weird when on the subway.

The first couple of weeks I burned through a lot of money, which worried me, to say the least. Since activating my JR pass, said money burn has practically ground to a halt. My biggest expenses are accommodation, which is expected, and food, which is so much cheaper than all the hearsay will have you believe. Admission to all the shrines, temples and museums has been uniformly tiny. I haven’t bought much in the way of souvenirs, mostly just little bits and pieces as gifts. Having already paid for my rail pass and just waving it as I walk through the gates is majorly awesome.

Oh my god. I think the vending machine behind me has orange juice. Must get some! It’s become one of my small everyday quests to find orange juice for breakfast. The success rate of this quest isn’t great.

Hard to believe I’ll be going home in a month. Even harder to believe that I’ll be driving a car in less than a month. Arghle? The highways don’t phase me, but having seen city streets, and how narrow they are, and how scary people who drive on them are, I’m a tad apprehensive.