One chapter ends, another begins

I've just spent five days in New Zealand clearing up some loose ends - some recent and one more than thirty years in the making. All in all, it was a very cathartic visit.  I'd booked my ticket months before Mum died. Hence, it was only ever meant to be a regular trip to see her and share my love. Instead, it became my first time back in New Zealand after her death.

I flew in on Friday just in time to join Matt and his friends for a fun-filled evening at the local Fishing Club. The club itself is a fairly nondescript venue. However, it offers unrivalled view of Pilot Bay and the Mount beyond. 

On Saturday morning, Matt, Shelley and I visited my mother's grave and officially "unveil" a new ceramic plaque we’ve installed memorialize my parents.  The plaque looks amazing. It's turned out far better than anyone expected. The colours are well balanced and it's perfectly proportioned for its location. The manufacturer guarantees its colours won’t fade for a hundred years - not that we'll be around to challenge the warranty.

The plaque is a real family affair. Its background image was taken by Matt at the Fishing Club. Mum's image was taken from a professional photo shoot that Shelley won in a social media competition.  I took Dad's image while visiting the Great Wall of China, while the final artwork was photoshopped and laid out by me. 

As Shelley pointed out, the gravesite sits next to a set of stairs visitors use to access the cemetery.  As a result, everyone will inevitably notice it as they grab the handrail. It's comforting to think that my parents will be remembered by all who visit the surrounding grounds. 

Matt has also kept a small vial of Mum's ashes for him and Shelley to take to Japan. They plan to visit Miyajima and scatter Mum's ashes in the water where Mum and I scattered a vial of Dad's ashes more than a decade ago. I love the thought of them being united again in Japan, the country my father never ticked off his bucket list before he died.

After viewing the plaque, Matt, Shelly and I went for lunch at Umami Fusion Kitchen, a new Japanese restaurant. It's opened up in a mall where we once took Mum for coffee, or a meal, when she briefly lived at Copper Crest. It seemed a fitting tribute to her memory, neatly closing off another chapter in her life story.

Hamish and Karin are currently on holiday in Europe. As a result, we invited their daughters to join us for dinner on Sunday evening. It was a lovely evening.  I enjoyed catching up with my nieces without their parents and enjoyed their company as young adults.

Monday was devoted to an outing I've wanted to do for many years.  During my time at university, I often spent my holidays on the Wallis farm in Raglan.  Don Wallis was my roommate in the hostel in my first year at Waikato University.  His parents became substitute parents after Mum and Dad relocated to Taihape, while his younger brother Shaun, became a close friend and trusted confidant.  

When I graduated from university in 1989, I spent a year on the farm milking cows twice daily until Shaun completed his tertiary studies later that year.  The farm is set in a stunning location.  It encompasses a peninsula in the Raglan Harbour, with the cowshed sited on the crest of a hill overlooking the surrounding area. I have many happy memories of my time there.

I moved off the farm in early 1990, then shortly after departed for Australia to undertake some extra study. I've never been back. In the year since I've wanted to visit the farm, see Shaun, meet his family and thank him for his friendship during my formative years.  

On Monday, I drove 2.5 hours across the North Island to finally close off this chapter in my life.  I stopped briefly in Hamilton to wander the grounds at Waikato University and took a side trip to Raglan to see how the town has evolved, before finally making my way to Okete.  Shaun and I spent three hours catching up on thirty years of history.  It was a wonderful reunion and a truly cathartic visit.  For me, it closed off another chapter in my life.

I flew home again on Tuesday morning.  I'm unsure when I'll return to New Zealand.  For more than thirty years my parents have been the primary catalyst for almost every visit I've made.  It's somewhat disconcerting that the very reason why I've always made an effort no longer applies. However, this latest trip reminded me how much I enjoy Matt and Shelley's company and how much I value their friendship. Another cathartic moment indeed.

Hajimete no Nihon

I spent two years learning Japanese and studying Japanese business culture at Waikato University in New Zealand’s North Island. By the time I finished my final language course, I could speak, read and write basic conversational Japanese. Sadly, I never maintained the discipline and my language skills slowly waned. Almost 40 years later, I can only recall a few passing phrases.

At the time, I was motivated to learn the language thanks to Japan’s ascendency as New Zealand’s largest trading partner. Japanese technology, lean manufacturing and Kaizen business practices were also globally revered market-leading innovations. However, despite my studies, more than a decade passed before I finally visited Japan.

I spent a week in Honshu in April 1998. I flew into Osaka in the early evening of 6 April and departed again seven days later on 12 April. I booked the trip as a short break between jobs. I’d just resigned as a junior industry analyst with International Data Corporation (IDC) to take up a role at Recognition Public Relations.

My trip coincided with the spectacular Sakura season. Sakura translates simply as Cherry. Every year in Spring the island nation’s cherry trees burst into a riot of white and pink-hued blossom. It’s a magnificent spectacle. Everywhere you look, parks, roadsides and hills are cloaked in pastel hues. Then, as the blossom fades, paths and parks are carpeted in a sea of fallen petals.

The emerging blossoms are an eagerly anticipated event. Every year, the Japanese Meteorological Agency (JMA) and the general public track the sakura zensen ("cherry blossom front") as it moves northward up the archipelago. As the warmer weather approaches daily blossom forecasts close off the weather segment on the evening news. Many popular events and activities are also staged to commemorate the season. I experienced a few of these during some unscripted moments.

I chose to base myself in Osaka as it was centrally located for exploring southern Honshu’s most iconic destinations. I made full use of my Japan Rail Pass, scheduling daily day trips that took me as far south as Hiroshima and Iwakuni, and as far north as Hakone. In between I visited classic tourist hotspots in Himeji, Nara and Kyoto. In fact, the only place I didn’t spend time in was Osaka itself. I eventually returned 15 years later to explore the city with my mother.

As part of my retrospective blogging project, I’ve prepared a series of posts covering my most memorable day trips in Japan. Read and enjoy the links below. 

• Geeking out over the brand-new Akashi Kaikyo Bridge
• Seeing Mt Fuji for the first time on the Hakone Circuit 
• Reliving the horror of atomic warfare in Hiroshima 
• Exploring Japan’s most famous Samurai castle in Himeji 
• Seeking enlightenment in the temples and shrines of Nara and Kyoto.

One final memory before you go. My flight home was an unexpected highlight. The Qantas flight was packed with only a handful of seats to spare. Shortly after boarding, the cabin crew approached me and asked if I’d yield my bulkhead seat with its extra legroom to accommodate a passenger flying home with an injured leg. The crew wouldn’t (or couldn’t) upgrade me. Out of the kindness of my heart, I agreed to take the passenger’s middle-row seat further down the cabin.

The crew reappeared as we were preparing to push back. They’d found me a “better seat”. The captain had invited me to join him in the cockpit for take-off. I accepted his offer without a moment's hesitation. For the next hour, I sat in the cockpit jump seat enjoying a spectacular nighttime departure from Kansai airport. 

We took off down the runway lined by symmetrical ribbons of light and flew out over an inky black Inland Sea. As we slowly climbed, the jaw-dropping lights of Kobe and the Asahi Kaikyo Bridge punctuated the darkness. Above is an image I ripped from the Internet that captures this view.

As the aircraft turned south towards Australia, the captain took a moment to properly introduce himself. When he heard that I worked in the IT industry, he proceeded to take me on a tour of the aircraft’s avionics. For almost an hour he systematically took me through the cockpit controls flicking one switch after another as we settled for an overnight flight. As a child, I’d always dreamed of being an airline pilot, so his unexpected tutorial was a dream come true.

The following morning, I was invited back to the cockpit to enjoy a stunning early morning landing at Sydney Airport. The dawn sky was bright and clear as we flew in from the north, made a scenic loop around the city, landed on the main runway from the south and taxied to the terminal. Sadly, the events of 9/11 have put an end to these cockpit encounters. I count myself lucky to have experienced an opportunity long since consigned to the annals of history.

Should you ever want to retrace my steps yourself, here's a summary of my Japanese itinerary. As my retrospective posts reveal, each excursion is a viable day trip from Osaka.  If you have the time, I'd add a few days to include Tokyo, Nikko and sights further north. To facilitate this, I'd simply transfer to Toyko after spending the day in Hakone. Alternatively, I'd drop Hakone and spend a day in the Five Lakes district before venturing to Tokyo the following morning.

DAY	DATE	ITINERARY
1	6 April	Arrive in Osaka
2	7 April	Nara
3	8 April	Hiroshima, Miyajima & Iwakuni.
4	9 April	Asahi Kaikyo Bridge. Himeji.
5	10 April	Kyoto
6	11 April	Hakone Free Pass Circuit
7	12 April	Half Day Kyoto. Depart Japan.
8	13 April	Arrive in Sydney

Oh yes, the title of this post?  Translated it simply means "My first time in Japan". Enjoy!

Nara in the Spring

I flew into Kansai Airport on the evening of 6 April. The airport sits on an artificial island in the middle of Osaka Bay, about an hour by train from the central city. By the time I'd made it through immigration, collected my bag, transferred to the train and finally reached the hotel, it was bedtime. 

The following morning, I caught a train to Nara for the day. The forecast was for mainly overcast conditions with the chance of a late passing shower. I'd decided that exploring temples and shrines was a smarter bet in these conditions rather than the more outdoor-oriented Hakone day trip I'd originally scheduled. 

The gamble certainly paid off. I enjoyed mainly dry conditions until a brief, and rather light, shower passed through while exploring Ukimido Pavilion on the southern boundary of Nara Park. The umbrellas you can see in the opening image above captured this short lived shower. I later found a dry spot under a tree and enjoyed a picnic lunch overlooking the pavilion’s cherry blossom-rimmed pond (complete with a curious deer as you can see above).

Nara is Japan’s ancient capital. Established in 710 A.D., it became the nation’s first permanent capital. Prior to that, the capital moved to a new location as a new emperor ascended to the throne. Most of its sights are concentrated around Nara Park, wooded parklands on the modern city’s eastern fringe. 

I spent half a day exploring the park and its surroundings while dodging hundreds of curious deer roaming freely through the grounds. The deer are fearless. Park visitors can purchase dried food pallets to feed them. As a result, you’re continually harassed by animals frisking you for a treat. I bought one of these small packets, set up my camera, activated its timer, and secured myself a memorable selfie.

The park is home to Tōdai-ji temple. Until recently, the temple's main hall, the Daibutsuden (Big Buddha Hall), held the record as the world's largest wooden building. Interestingly, the present building reconstructed in 1692, is only two-thirds of the original temple hall's size. Inside sits Daibutsu, Tōdai-ji's 15m-high bronze Buddha. It’s an impressive sight.

Off to one side of the hall is a quirky path to enlightenment. One of its massive timber columns has a narrow archway carved through it. Tradition has it that if you can crawl through the gap you’re well on your way to true enlightenment. Sadly, I was far too large to enjoy this niffy shortcut to eternal bliss.

Nearby Shin-Yakushiji Temple was home to another quirky tradition. It's devoted to Yakushi Buddha, the patron of medicine in Japanese Buddhism. Inside the main hall, there are life-size statues of 12 guardian deities, Baraza Wind Gods, surrounding a two-meter-tall statue of a seated Yakushi Buddha. The Yakushi statue is made of wood while the guardians, dating back to 700AD, are made of clay.

The Yakushi Buddha, or Healing Buddha as he's also known, is said to possess healing powers. Visitors seeking good health and healing line up to rub its surface and pray. As a result, years of rubbing have rendered its surface smooth and shiny, while the natural oils from all these hands have stained the timber in a rather eerie way.

 

On the park's east side is the Shinto shrine Kasuga Taisha. This compact complex dates back to 768 A.D. It’s considered Nara’s most sacred shrine as it’s dedicated to a deity responsible for the city's protection. It’s filled with more than 3000 lanterns of all types donated by dedicated worshippers.

While in Japan I discovered that the sakura season isn't the only festive occasion in Spring. My trip also coincided with Ohakamairi, the traditional visit to one's ancestral graves. Every year family members, usually led by the eldest son, visit their family graves in the first two weeks of April. The grave and surrounding area are scrubbed and cleaned and weeds and debris removed. A series of five offerings are then made including flowers, incense, candles, water and food.

The family will often cloak the grave in a red bib. I encountered these bibs everywhere I went including my first day in Nara. This tradition dates back to Japanese folklore which holds that the colour red can expel demons and disease. However, there’s also a deeper, difficult story behind many of the baby bibs you’ll see on statues. Those bibs have likely been placed there by somebody with a child who died very young or is sick. It’s an offering of protective armour to that deity, fighting to protect their child from demons in the spirit world.

Oh yes, one find note. The artist in the opening image is painting the facade of Nara's National Museum.
 

Hiroshima in the rain

My first visit to this infamous city occurred on 8 April, my second full day in Japan. I’d originally planned this excursion for later in the week. However, the forecast wasn’t ideal for a planned excursion to Hakone, so I made a last-minute decision to swap dates and head south. It seemed appropriate to experience a more poignant location like Hiroshima in the wet. I also knew I’d spend time indoors at the Peace Museum, plus another 1.5 hours each way on the Shinkansen.

I duly arrived in Hiroshima mid-morning and caught the local tram towards the Peace Memorial Park. I took heed of a recommendation in my Lonely Planet guide and disembarked at Kamiyacho-nishi. I then walked a block down a narrow, quiet side lane to view the Hiroshima Atomic Bomb Hypocenter Monument. This modest pink marble plinth marks the exact spot where, approximately 600 metres above, the world’s first atomic weapon exploded in anger.

I’ve visited this monument three times. On each occasion I’m awe-struck by the simple thought that had I stood here in this modest laneway, on the morning of 6 August 1945, it would have resulted in instant annihilation. It’s unfathomable and brings into stark focus the inane brutality of war.

My next stop was the iconic Atomic Bomb Dome. These are the carefully preserved remains of the Industrial Promotion Hall which stood 100 metres west of the bomb’s epicenter. Outside the skeletal complex colourful bunches of origami cranes lay on marble platforms. They're part of a memorial to the children killed in the atomic blast. Every year school children come from around the country to present the paper creations they've carefully crafted during history lessons.

The paper crane is a symbol of hope and peace in Japan thanks to the heartbreaking story of a little Japanese girl called Sadako Sasaki. She was exposed to radiation as an infant when the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima. Although she survived the bomb, she was diagnosed with leukaemia at the age of 12. Sadako came to believe that if she folded 1,000 cranes, she’d be cured. Sadly, she never reached her goal and passed away later that year.

I spent several hours exploring the Peace Memorial Park and taking stock of exhibits and artefacts at the Peace Museum. The museum, located on the park’s southern boundary, tells the story of the atomic bombing and its aftermath. It’s a truly sobering experience. You can learn more about the park and its museum in posts I've previously published here and here.

From Hiroshima, I caught the local tram south towards Miyajima. There are few sights more iconic in Japan than the vermillion Tori gate that stands offshore of the Itsukushima Shinto shrine. Miyajima is one of Japan’s most sacred places. Its name literally translates as "shrine island". Its history is intimately tied to the nation’s two dominant religions; Shintoism and Buddhism.

The island is considered so sacred that for much of its history commoners weren’t allowed to set foot on it to maintain its purity. As a result, the Itsukushima shrine is built over the water and connected to the island by three single-arch vermillion bridges. Its dramatic entrance gate was also installed offshore to ensure visitors could only come by boat and thus never touch the island. Retaining the purity of the shrine is so important that since 1878, no deaths or births have been permitted near it.

Unfortunately, my visit coincided with low tide. As a result, I never saw the Tori Gate “floating” in the sea. However, this did allow me to walk out across the mud flaps and view the gate up close, something you’re unable to do when the tide is in. I have been fortunate to see the gate immersed on subsequent visits.

I finished my southern day trip with a bus ride to Iwakuni to see the Kintai Bridge. Catching the bus was an experience in itself.  I amused the driver with my clumsy efforts to pay the correct fare, communicate in pidgin Japanese and disembark at the correct stop. I then repeated a similar pantomime for the toll booth attendant staffing the entrance to the bridge.

This iconic five-arch wooden bridge spans the Nishiki River. Historically it acted as a gateway to a feudal palace and Samurai castle on the hill overlooking the river. Unfortunately, during my visit low clouds shrouded the surrounding hills and thus I never saw the castle. However, I finally saw it up close during a visit with Mum more than 15 years later - and the weather was decidedly better!

Akashi-Kaikyo Bridge

My third day in Japan was devoted to iconic structures old and new.  My first stop for the day was Maiko, south of Kobe. This is the nearest train station to the Akashi-Kaikyo Bridge. Until recently, this was the world’s longest single-span suspension bridge. Its main span stretches a mind-boggling 1,991 metres. As a dedicated infrastructure geek, I was keen to see the bridge. It had been opened just five days earlier to great fanfare by the Crown Prince and Princess of Japan.

The bridge’s southern anchor block houses an informative visitor’s centre. Here you can take an elevator up to an impressive indoor observation deck built underneath the road deck. This includes an enclosed walkway that extends over the water for more than 150 metres giving visitors a close-up view of the bridge’s superstructure. 

A cross-section of its main cable in the park below was equally impressive. 290 parallel wire strands make up each of the final 1.12-meter-diameter cables swooping in the distance. It's hard to believe they're continually transferring 181,400 metric tons of vertical force onto the tower-pier foundations and down into bedrock, approximately 60 meters below the water surface.

To complete my bridge visit I took an elevator to the road deck to view the traffic and witness the bridge from above. I discovered a small bus stop nearby where you can catch a bus across the 4km wide Akashi Strait. I was tempted to give it a try. However, with limited time on the ground, I decided there were better ways to fill my time.  Instead, I caught the train an hour south to visit Himeji, home to one of Japan's most iconic Samauri castles.

I ended my day with an evening meal at my hotel’s Okonomiyaki restaurant. Madonna Okonomiyaki was a tiny hole-in-the-wall affair tucked in a corner of the hotel’s basement. I’d never heard of this popular local dish before arriving in Japan. However, after an evening sampling the menu I was hooked and have been ever since.

In essence, Okonomiyaki is best described as a cross between a savoury crepe and a pizza pancake. The name literally translates to “as you like it on the grill”. You first mix a yam-infused batter, then add all manner of stir-fry style vegetables, shrimp, pork, bacon (basically whatever you like), cook it on a large flat grill plate and top the finished dish with diced spring onions, bonito flakes, mayonnaise and Otofuku sauce, a Japanese-style BBQ sauce. Delicious!