Thursday, 28 April 2011

High Tech toilets in Japan

At dinner the main topic of conversation was the amazing toilet we had in our rooms. This was a toilet like no other I had seen. You needed an instruction manual to use it. Alongside the bowl there was an array of knobs and dials. It acted like an up market bidet. I pressed the green button and nearly shot off the seat as a spray of warm water hit my rear. Other people had tried the buttons when not seated and ended up having to mop down the ceiling as they were definitely designed for a seated bottom. Once you had flushed a little spout on top of the cistern started running so you could wash your hands. Toilets were very high tech in Japan. In Hiroshima we had one with a heated toilet seat. In public toilets the flushing mechanism was a no-touch affair. You just waved your hand across the appropriate button. They also had devices on the walls to dry your hands. You plunged your hands in and hot air dried them.

My biggest surprise in Japan was that I actually liked the food. I had thought it would be like Korean food, which I hated. The first meal I had was pork and rice with a raw egg that you mixed in so that it cooked. It came complete with a bowl of miso soup and some pickled vegies (which I didn't like). You would never starve in Japan as there are food stalls everywhere and you can also buy ready made dishes in the supermarkets and convenience stores that they will heat up for you in a microwave at the checkout! If you want a coffee, you can get it from a vending machine. I put in my 120 yen and received a hot can containing milky coffee that was more pleasant than a lot of coffees sold in cafes. At the more high-tech vending machines you could choose the blend of coffee and adjust the strength of the coffee, milk and sugar - amazing!

Our second day in Kyoto was a free day and I divided it between temple visiting in the morning and shopping in the afternoon. In the evening we went around old Gion in the hope of seeing a real working geisha on her way to an appointment. Unfortunately it was raining and so all the geishas were having a night in. We had been booked in to a Japanese cultural show. The theatre was designed for small Japanese rears as I discovered as I tried to sit down. The armrests were immovable objects and there was no way my ample behind was going to fit between them. I had to push into the seat from the front and sit with my hips pinned in a vice-like grip by the arm rests.

So far I have found the Japanese incredibly polite and willing to please and they don't stick their hands out for a tip, as it is just part of doing their job. Tomorrow we are leaving the city behind and going into the hills for our first taste of traditional Japan.

Monday, 25 April 2011

A wedding in Kyoto


I was quickly off loaded at Osaka and given directions on how to find the bus to Kyoto -'you get your ticket from the machine,' said the helpful lady at the desk. Needless to say that was my first real Japanese obstacle. I found the correct bus stop and was faced with a ticket vending machine all in Japanese. I found a map that showed Kyoto and I managed to match up the Japanese characters for Kyoto with the correct button on the machine and pressed it triumphantly -  nothing happened. Fortunately someone came to my rescue, pulled the money out of my hand and stuck it in the machine. After that it was plain sailing.

My hotel was only a short walk from the Kyoto bus station and I was soon in my room meeting my room mate, Helen from Melbourne, who was suitably old, wrinkled and overweight like me.

That evening we met our other group members who were all Aussies and quite an interesting bunch. There was a retired professor of theoretical physics and his wife, a specialist in forestry who had spent a few years exposing the Suharto family's collusion in the illegal logging of Indonesia's rainforests, a retired GP who had spent his early years as part of the Russian emigre community in Shanghai and who was constantly told off by his wife for being too blunt, a fellow who had written the definitive book on bricklaying and was poised to make more millions as it was translated into mandarin and then a generous sprinkling of lawyers, CEOs and teachers. Everyone was extraordinarily well travelled and world savvy and I felt quite a novice by comparison.

Needless to say I loved Kyoto, the centre of culture and the arts in Japan. It is quite a modern city but everywhere there are hidden temples and gardens. We visited 2 zen Buddhist temples and had our first taste of a zen garden: strategically placed rocks in a sea of neatly raked gravel. We also visited Nijo Castle with its 'nightingale' floor. The castle had once been owned by the royal family and the floors were especially designed so they squeaked like a nightingale when walked on so that intruders could be easily detected.

There were plenty of people around wearing traditional dress. I thought I would be lucky to spot a lady wearing a kimono but older ladies in particular seem to wear it out shopping. We were also lucky enough to spot a bridal party. The bride looked absolutely gorgeous in a bright red kimono with a geisha style hair-do and immaculate make-up. Her groom was also wearing traditional dress and they were being pulled along in a rickshaw with a traditionally dressed rickshaw man who posed every so often for photos from their official photographer.

I went off with Helen in the afternoon and after  numerous false starts managed to find the quiet Philosopher's Path that took us through the backstreets of old Kyoto and alongside a picturesqu canal to the Ginkakuji temple, which would have looked spectacular if hadn't been covered in scaffolding for renovation. We took the bus back to the hotel through the heart of Kyoto and the main shopping district. What a fantastic area! It had all the designer shops, stores I knew from London and Paris as well as department stores and tourist arcades. I made a mental note to return the next day.

Sunday, 24 April 2011

Japan here I come!

Quiet Japanese garden
I am sitting in my hotel in Kyoto having been given a scant 10 minutes to write something! I arrived her today having flown via Tokyo as there are no direct flights by Qantas to Osaka and I wanted to use my frequent flyer points. Once in Tokyo I was subjected to my first dose of Japanese efficiency and processed very quickly. I had my two index fingerprints taken and my photo in less time than it normally takes through passport control. I was quickly onto an airport bus whizzing across Tokyo to Haneda airport. We drove on the Expressway and I didn't see much as there was a high concrete wall lining the road so it was rather like driving through a tunnel with the roof cut off. I arrived at Haneda in good time for my flight and wondered whether I could get on an earlier flight. This looked easy as there was a big screen with all the flights and indicators saying whether there were any seats. Five minutes later I was hurrying to the gate as my new flight left in 20 minutes! It was all too easy.

Sitting on my domestic flight from Tokyo to Osaka I experienced my first dose of Japanese instruction giving. They are most determined that you know the rules and that you stick to them. The screen on board had the 8 major rules you were expected to obey - all the usual things like put your seat up when asked, don't leave luggage in the aisles, don't assault the pilot. Once you had read the rules you were given an elaboration of them complete with cartoon characters illustrating what not to do eg don't put your life jacket on in the aircraft, don't try to open the plane's doors. In case we still hadn't got the message we had the rules a third time with real life pictures illustrating the correct thing to do. At the end the hostess (and we all know that the Japanese have a lot of trouble pronouncing the letter 'l') bowed and said, 'Have a good fright!'

Thursday, 21 April 2011

The climb to the Tiger's Nest Monastery


We are back at the Kichu Resort that I blame for my bout of nausea at the start of my trip so I am being careful with the food. Tiffany and I are back sharing but we have a more luxurious room with a little sitting room attached to the bedroom complete with a TV and tea making facilities. This time the hotel is nowhere near full so we were served dinner on our tables instead of a buffet. It didn’t alter the food as it was still 4 vegetable dishes with rice and an inedible meat dish. This time the latter was chilli chicken. It is such a shame that they just dice the chicken up with all the bones as the dish was quite tasty.
I slept fitfully as I was worried about the climb up to the Tiger’s Nest monastery perched high up in the mountains and only accessible by a 2 hour trek up a steep path. When morning dawned it was raining, which would make the walk quite hazardous. I was very worried as we set out in the van and seriously considered chickening out altogether but I had my hiking boots, poles and rucksack so it seemed a waste not to utilise them. When we arrived at the base of the mountain I put a brave face on it and dutifully set out with the rest. After 2 minutes I was at the back of the pack and that’s where I stayed. Mindful of my Senior Citizen status (or was I using that as an excuse to mask my lack of fitness?) I knew my only hope of getting up the hill was to take things slowly. Even still it was a fearful climb up a winding, rock-strewn, muddy and very steep path. I struggled valiantly ever up and after an hour I caught up to the others enjoying a cup of tea at the cafe with a good view of the monastery.  
As we sat and drank our tea the clouds moved in and obscured the monastery from view, the temperature dropped and the rain intensified. I was only half way and there was a stiff climb up to the second observation point followed by a steep descent down a gully and the final climb up steps to the monastery. My desire to see inside the monastery was not very strong. I’d done my bit getting this far, I thought. How much nicer it would be to sit in the warm cafe and read my book for a bit and then have a leisurely descent to the valley and persuade the driver to take me back to the hotel for a hot shower and a rest. What did I want to do? Slog uphill in the rain to view a miserable monastery or head down to a shower and peaceful afternoon? The decision wasn’t very difficult and I didn’t feel as if I had missed out so my group and I parted company.
About 4 hours later Tiffany arrived back at the hotel and headed for the bathroom. She had succumbed to the dreaded Bhutanese lurgy, which made 75% of our group laid low by some bug in this country.
I am now packing my bags and getting ready to leave Bhutan. I have my second Druk Air flight tomorrow back to Kathmandu. The plane leaves at 7.20am so it is going to be an early morning with no breakfast. Hopefully the weather will be good and we’ll be able to leave on time. So that is my Bhutanese adventure over. What an interesting country!

Tuesday, 19 April 2011

Bhutan's Queen Aunt

Snow at the top of the pass

We endured another long drive today back along the narrow road from Bumthang to Wangdue swaying side to side around the constant curves. A short way out of Bumthang we stopped at a handicraft shop that sold mainly woollen textiles. In the courtyard we met a tourist carrying off her booty, a carpet. I asked how much she had paid and discovered it had cost her $350. Things are not cheap here. Inside I had a look around and finally my gaze alighted on a long runner suitable for a large dining table. It was handwoven silk and was absolutely gorgeous. I fell in love with it and began to work out how much I was prepared to pay for it. I hoped I could get it for $20-30 and decided that my top price was $50. I thought that maybe I was a bit optimistic but nothing prepared me for the owner’s asking price: $800! I quickly fell out of love with it and went and sulked in the van.
 Nothing much happened for the first 3 hours after that and we stopped at a very nice hotel near Trongsa for lunch. I learnt that ‘sa’ is Tibetan for ‘place’ and Trongsa means ‘new place’. Lhasa, in Tibet, means ‘God’s place’. It was gorgeous weather and we sat outside with hats and sunglasses on to avoid being burnt by the strong Himalayan sun and consumed a very pleasant meal. There was the usual rice and potatoes, mixed veg, a plate of spinach and an edible chicken curry. The food is looking up and maybe my early dislike of it is because I became sick early on.
We set off again on our journey and had a moment of excitement when a police car with red flashing light appeared. I expected it to be followed by some wide load vehicle but instead it heralded the arrival of a royal motorcade. Five vehicles followed carrying bodyguards, servants and the Queen Aunt. I was sitting on the road side and I could see the royal personage clearly in the front seat; eyes closed, head lolled back, mouth slightly open and fast asleep. The Queen Aunt was the favourite wife of Bhutan’s retired 4th King. The 4th King married 4 wives, all sisters, and the current 5th King is the son of wife number 3. Apparently the 4th King was told by an astrologer that he had to marry a daughter of his enemy’s family. The 2nd king had killed someone in this family and it had brought bad luck to the royal family and both the 2nd and 3rd kings had died young. Unless the 4th king made a propitious marriage then he would die young too. The 4th king had a girlfriend at the time whom he wanted to marry but he had to give her up and marry the 4 sisters instead. He palmed his girlfriend off on to the Prime Minister and given Bhutan’s scant regard for marriage formalities probably continued to have his bit on the side.
As we continued our journey along the road, the weather started to change and we could hear thunder and saw lightning breaking across the mountains. Soon the rain started and the road turned to mud and became slippery. The temperature dropped dramatically as we climbed up to a pass and it started to hail. We closed all the windows and put the heater on, which made the windscreen fog up. Our poor driver was steering round the bends with one hand whilst frantically wiping the mist off the inside of the window with the other. This was quite a feat given the nature of the road and the steepness of the drop if he oversteered or missed a turn. You would think things couldn’t get any worse but they did. We were headed up and over a high pass at 3400m and as we climbed higher the hail turned to sleet then to wet snow and finally into snow proper that was settling on the road. At the top of the pass it was snowing pretty heavily. It was with a great deal of trepidation that our driver started down the hill on the other side. We crawled down the road trying to stay as close to the inside as possible. This was one road you did not want to slip and slide on, as even a tiny skid would see you barrelling over the edge of a precipice and falling 3kms down into the valley below – yes, it was that deep and with nothing except trees to break your fall to the bottom. Fortunately the road quickly lost altitude and the snow melted into rain once more and we were safe.
We only had one other little drama on the way down when we were stopped by 2 well dressed men in ghos. They told us that their vehicle had broken an axle and they wanted to hitch a lift for themselves and their stranded tourist passenger. We were happy to oblige and the lady we had met at the handicraft shop near Bumthang came aboard complete with her carpet. We were able to give her and her guide a lift to our hotel where a fresh car was waiting to transport her to her hotel. The poor driver was left with the stranded vehicle and the difficult task of mending a broken axle.
We arrived back at the vegetarian hotel and were quickly installed in our rooms. Once again Tiffany and I were given separate rooms so we didn’t have to share. This time I had a heater in my room so I didn’t have to use my sleeping bag. Having had a good breakfast and lunch, I didn’t want much dinner, which was fortunate as the food wasn’t brilliant here.