Busy holiday weekend: Kuroyama

In September Japan has two national holidays falling on consecutive Mondays. For me, the latter of these formed a three-day weekend jam-packed with things to do. This post will be the first in a series of three on the topic of my BUSY HOLIDAY WEEKEND.

I had tentatively planned to do this year's Big Walk on Saturday, but was hesitant to try anything too ambitious. For some reason my work shoes have been causing mysterious discomfort in my left foot. (I mean, I think it's my work shoes that are doing it. My feet don't hurt as much when I wear my sneakers. Funny, though...when I got these work shoes, I remember making comments out loud about how comfortable they were.) So fellow Big Walker Craig and I decided to further postpone the Big Walk and instead take a "leisurely stroll" in Ogose, a town in the hilly interior of Saitama Prefecture, about midway between Kawagoe and Chichibu.

I had visited Ogose once before. It's home to a mountain called Kuroyama, and a collection of waterfalls called Kuroyama Santaki. For residents of Saitama City, it makes for a relatively easy getaway from the suburban sprawl. We decided, rather than use the bus like normal folks, we would walk the 8.5 km from Ogose Station to the entrance to Kuroyama.

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Ogose Station on the Tobu Ogose Line

And why not indeed? It was excellent weather and the route was simple, albeit out-of-the-way. The Kuroyama entrance is on the far side of another mountain called Otakatoriyama, which meant (as far as I was aware at the time) that we would have to walk halfway around that mountain to get there. Later I would learn that there are hiking paths over that mountain, but I don't think we'd have had the energy to hike Kuroyama if we had done that.

It was a good couple of hours' walk, but there wasn't a lot to see on the way. Unless you count this Optimus Prime-looking lawn decoration...

...and this giant insect.

Actually, oversized arthropods were a theme on this walk. In addition to the mantid pictured here, we saw more gigantic spiders than I care to count, and a few hornets that I was worried might be this kind of hornet. Luckily we made it all the way to the Kuroyama entrance without being stung, bitten or otherwise preyed upon by bugs.

At the intersection where we leave Route 61 to enter Kuroyama, there is a restaurant/tourist facility called Yozantei. According to this billboard we saw, they specialize in nabe (hot pot) cooking using the meats of all the animals pictured. From left: wild boar, bear, deer, pheasant and duck.

Holy shit, bear meat? I didn't even know that was a thing! I absolutely regret not eating lunch here. Instead we ate at Nekkoshokudo, a zelkova woodwork-themed restaurant where we ate noodles. Little did I know that a big bowl of salty ramen was probably not the best choice to prepare me for the walk ahead.

Here's where our visit to Kuroyama begins to differ wildly from my visit last summer. At a fork in the path, we were faced with three options: an easy walk straight to Otokotaki and Onnataki (the biggest waterfalls in the vicinity), a 1.3-km path to Kasasugi Ridge or a hike of undisclosed length to something called "En no Gyoja Site." We had no idea what En no Gyoja meant, and 1.3 km sounded long, so we opted for En no Gyoja, assuming it would be shorter and easier than Kasasugi Ridge.

What I can tell you is that it was neither short nor easy. It's probably just that I'm out of shape (and that I had a stomach full of rapidly-expanding ramen), but hiking up Kuroyama was the first rigorous exercise I'd gotten in months and I wasn't ready for it. I didn't even get my camera out for most of this part of the trip because I needed both hands to keep my balance. What began as an obvious path quickly dwindled to little more than a the vague sense that "we must be going the right way because we haven't fallen down the mountain."

Ropes and shit? What is this, American Gladiators?

And the worst part of it is, when we finally reached En no Gyoja, which turned out to be a little altar with some stone statues, we couldn't go any further. Our desire to see the top of Kuroyama was foiled by the fact that it was not obviously named; it turns out the peak of Kuroyama is Kasasugi Ridge, which was a shorter distance from the fork in the path than En no Gyoja was.

At least we got to see...whatever this is.

This sign reads, "Do not enter." But the unspoken message is, "Have fun walking back the way you came, sucka."

So, we turned around a walked/slid/stumbled back down Kuroyama feeling like we had just been run over by cars. On the way, we hooked around for a look at Onnataki and Otokotaki (literally, Woman Waterfall and Man Waterfall).

Japanese tourists flock to waterfalls because they are full of mainasu ion! (negative ions) and are supposed to be pawaa supotto! (power spots). I don't know anything about that, but after the ordeal of visiting En no Gyoja, being near a big waterfall did feel nice.

We took the bus back to Ogose Station and returned to civilization by train. After I got home, I was so tired that I slept from 10pm to 9am, which meant I was rested and ready for Day 2 of my busy holiday weekend: Tokyo Game Show. Coming up next.

Vietnam Photos

Here are the photographic highlights from our brief trip to Ho Chi Minh City. All these were taken with the Digital Harinezumi, the only camera I carried with me to Vietnam. Click on individual images to view at 800x600 pixels.

First, a word about motor scooters. Thanks to the sheer volume of scooter traffic filling virtually every road in the city at virtually all hours of the day, riding in a Ho Chi Minh City taxi feels like trying to shake the Germans in an Indiana Jones movie. One night our cab driver actually hit someone on a scooter and knocked them over. The two drivers involved in the accident yelled at each other for about 90 seconds and then went their respective ways. Nobody was killed. True story.

Next I'd like to discuss signage.

Ho Chi Minh City is full of signs. Whether they're telling you where not to park or what socio-economic system is best, signs are many, and they are all colorful. One of my favorites was the sign outside the office of a dentist whose name is apparently Dr. Dentist:

The award for Most Terrifying Sign at Night goes to that of the Crazy Buffalo, a bar I'm glad we didn't go to.

Not far from the Crazy Buffalo, you can see this:

One afternoon I was standing on a street corner trying to grab a taxi when this guy on a bicycle-taxi (or what ever you call a bicycle with a low seat attached to the front, kind of like a rikisha that is pedaled instead of pushed) pulled up next to me. He wouldn't take no for an answer, even after I showed him the address of my hotel and told him it was too far to go by bike-shaw. When I decided to keep walking and look for a different street corner to wait for my taxi, he followed me. And he kept following me at walking speed for more than two blocks. After talking him down to what I thought was a reasonable fare, I decided to give this guy a chance.

It was a long trip back to the hotel. More than an hour, and a hair-raising ride at that, thanks to the aforementioned motor bikes that constantly swerved on either side of my "taxicle."

Along the way, the driver tried indicating points of interest to me, but I couldn't understand most of what he said. He pointed at a brewery and said, "Beer." He pointed at a statue of Ho Chi Minh and said, "Ho Chi Minh." Then he pointed at a post office and said, "Ho Chi Minh." When he pointed at a motorcycle shop and said, "Vroom," I sort of stopped listening. Here's what my vantage point from the seat looked like:

On my last day in Vietnam, I went to see the Ho Chi Minh Notre Dame Cathedral and the War Remnants Museum. Here are some exterior shots of the cathedral:

Out in front of the War Remnants Museum were an array of American military land and air vehicles:

I also met this guy:

He was selling books and DVDs outside the museum entrance. He was missing an eye and both forearms. Disappointed with how I had handled myself upon meeting the disfigured man outside Bến Thành Market days earlier, I talked with this man for several minutes and shook his elbow in lieu of his hand.

The War Remnants Museum is a solemn (and/or grim) place, but I recommend it, particularly to other Americans who might not otherwise have occasion to hear another side of the story of the Vietnam War. All exhibits therein located include English descriptions.

Leaving Vietnam tonight

Wife's work relocation will continue a few more days, but I will be leaving Vietnam tonight and arriving back in Tokyo tomorrow morning, five days ahead of schedule. There hasn't been much else to do or blog about for the past three days, but once I'm back I can post the photos I've taken here.

Something That's Bothering Me

It's morning on the second day of our stay in Ho Chi Minh City. Yesterday we practiced resisting the advances of various vendors as politely as possible in the Bến Thành Market, a place that isn't much fun for people who dislike haggling as intensely as I do. The market was oppressively stuffy and full of nauseating smells, so Wife and I decided to escape the crowds briefly by walking around the outer perimeter of the market building.

On the sidewalk outside the market, I felt a tap on my arm and turned to see a man who was missing several portions of the skin on his face. His lips were gone, perpetually showing a full set of teeth. His nose had been reduced to a slight protrusion with two nostrils and his right eye was surrounded by raw-looking tissue that barely seemed to cover the bone. I couldn't guess his age because what skin he had left was pulled too tightly around his head to reveal any natural wrinkles. I assume his injuries were not recent, because he didn't appear to be in pain, yet the tissue showing where his skin was missing looked wet and vulnerable. He didn't look like a leper; he looked like he had just tried to eat an exploding string of firecrackers.

The sight of this man was horrifying and something I wish I could forget, but what haunts me more is the way I reacted to him. The man met my eyes and said "hi" in English. I don't recall displaying any outright revulsion or shock at the man's appearance, but my response was nothing more than a similar "hi," after which I immediately turned ninety degrees and walked away with Wife in tow, hoping she wouldn't have to see him. I don't know what reaction would have been better, and I'm sure others before my have seen this man and reacted with more obvious horror than I did, but I can't help but feel like I was horribly rude to this man whose nightmarish appearance was no fault of his own. Curt as my responses to every vendor in the market may have been, they were all accompanied by a smile. This guy only got a parroted "hi" and a quick look away.

Tunisia - Day Six

The sixth and final day of our Tunisia travels took us to the Great Mosque of Kairouan (the oldest Islamic worship site in Africa and the fourth holiest site in Islam, after Mecca, Medina and Jerusalem). We also visited one more worship site, whose name and location I can't seem to remember.

Of course, no guided tour of a foreign country is complete until the guide takes you to see some kind of artisan, who promptly makes an elaborate attempt on your wallet. In our case, it was a Berber rug shop.

After patiently withstanding about 45 minutes of sales pitches from the man working at the rug shop, we went to see one more spot: the ruins of the Zaghouan Aqueduct.

After returning to Sidi Bou Said, Wife and I spent the late evening hours taking one last wander around the neighborhood. My attempt to order dinner for the both of us that evening ended up being my biggest French language failure of the entire trip (long story short: I ordered two dishes for us, one of which I thought was steak and one of which I thought was seafood...but both of which turned out to be chicken).

The next day we returned to Japan and I vowed never to speak French again.

Tunisia - Day Five

On the fifth day of our trip, we went to Hammamet to visit another touristy shopping district. I didn't take so many pictures, but I did overhear an amusing exchange between a shopkeeper and the bride's uncle about a rug (which the bride's uncle had no interest in buying...and which gradually changed in price, from 90 dinars to 10 dinars). Hearing the price of that rug drop almost 90% -- with no effort whatsoever on the part of the customer -- was a shock that made me question almost every purchase I had made in Tunisia until that point.

Click each image to see a larger version.

After seeing the sights and visiting a relaxation spa (where I received a massage involving hot stones on my back), we had another party to attend. This one was an evening garden party at the groom's family's second home (!), which was also in Hammamet. There was food, live music and dancing...and, again, ululation. The pictures below were taken before the event started, which is why there are no other guests. We were unfashionably early, I guess.

My next post will be about our sixth and final day in Tunisia, in which we visited the Grand Mosque of Kairouan.

Tunisia - Days Three and Four

On the third day of our trip, Wife and I were invited to a lunch at the home of the groom's parents. There was much food, dancing and ululation. I didn't take any pictures of their actual home, which was beautiful, but these shots taken from the house's gigantic rear balcony should speak for themselves. Click each one for full-size viewing.

I also took this three-shot panorama:

The answer to the question "How did the groom's family afford such a nice house?" became apparent on Day Four, when we visited a vineyard/olive orchard owned and managed by the family near Takelsa. We took a tour of the property, enjoyed a barbecue lunch and then visited a small, secluded white sand beach about two kilometers away (visible in the background of the third photo below). This was the single most relaxing day of the entire trip for me. Only slightly less so for Wife, who found a turtle on the ground during lunch; she picked it up and it promptly relieved itself on her. The groom's brother assured us that such an occurrence was "good luck."

In Day Five, we visit Hammamet.