06 August 2006
Postcard from Miyajima
Voted the 3rd most scenic view in Japan, the shrine on the island of Miyajima is built on a sandbank looking towards Hiroshima, and at high tide appears to be floating in the water. Every couple of hundred years the sea wins and the shrine has to be rebuilt; this one is about 150 years old (it was too far away to be affected by the A-bomb) and still looks and feels pretty solid (you can walk up to it at low tide).
Since the shrine was built in C12, the island has been deemed sacred and it became an extreme nature reserve. By “extreme” I mean there are some unusual rules: no trees can be felled, no ground cleared and no animals harmed. You are even not allowed to give birth here, nor die (I’m not sure how one guarantees that). One sign says “You may only leave your footprints here, take everything else with you”. Deer roam the High Street (in reality a tiny lane of mostly tourist shops) at will, completely ignoring humans, even if you stroke them. Elsewhere there are monkeys, lizards, snakes – all pretty tame – and a type of cricket about the size of half a boiled egg that makes a deafening noise trying to attract a mate. No wonder he keeps going, she’s clearly as put off as we are.
We are still staying Japanese style, in a 1970s built hotel, but it’s grander than the last one: we have a suite. The regime is similar to the last one, except we all eat downstairs (believe it or not all in our Yukata dressing gowns provided by the hotel) and there is a communal bath. Anyone hoping for one of those nude mixed German/Scandinavian-style saunas will be in for a disappointment: there are separate facilities for men and women. Furnished with a towel about the size of an A4 piece of paper, you sit at a wash-station on an upside-down plastic washing-up bowl. There’s soap etc, as well as a hand-shower – everything you need to get clean. Once clean (and with your piece of A4 strategically positioned) you head to the bath, the idea being that only clean bodies are allowed in. The bath is a cross between a Jacuzzi and a swimming pool (the water is hot, but it’s big enough to swim in or just to sit at the side), but most people are sitting rather than moving around. There’s another, smaller bath outside. We’re thoroughly confused by the communal bath’s opening hours as the receptionist (rather appropriately named “Oh”) tells us that it is open 24 hours a day, but is closed right now. In fact, it is open so often – so she claims – that it is really open 27 hours a day. “How many hours a day are there in Japan?” I ask. “24, but bath open 27 hours” Oh replies, proudly. The signs to the bath are not for the feint-hearted either, as they variously point to “Public Bath”, “Pubric Bath” and “Pubic Bath”.
We have a great example of Japanese service here: we ask Oh whether there is a laundry service and she replies “I will arrange it”. This in fact involves her taking our clothes home and washing them herself. There’s no charge – it’s “a pleasure” she says. We feel humbled.
The restaurant is worth a special mention: if le Guide Michelin had made it this far, this place would be up for a rosette. Dinner consists of perhaps 8 exquisitely prepared and presented separate dishes. Presentation of the sashimi is a work of art with the body of the fish set in ice, with the sashimi on top, and a shell gushing out smoke from liquid nitrogen (for effect only). One of the courses consists of a barbequed fish, which arrives on its own table-top portable barbeque. We are told to watch it cook itself for exactly 5 minutes before eating. Another is duck braised in a soy-based sauce, again over a naked flame, but this time the ‘saucepan’ is made of paper. The paper does not catch fire because of the sauce. It’s all quite magical. There is a small five-fingered leaf that appears as decoration on every dish (looks like marijuana, but isn’t), and is widely painted on buildings and even the streets. It’s the leaf from a local tree called Minojini, and is supposed to bring good luck.
This is not a place for wild parties. A sign at the ferry terminal proudly announces “No bars, no music” (George is downhearted). Walking down the High Street after dinner the only thing we saw was a deer. In fact, each hotel has its own entertainment with karaoke being popular everywhere. One evening we sing along to some old favourites (never been in a bar or night club in a dressing gown before, has to be said). We are invited to join a group of Japanese businessmen from a civil engineering company who are on a work jolly. The head man tells me earnestly that “Blair is a good man, a gentleman” and we set out to see who can sing better. Japan wins by a mile.
Miyajima Island rises over 500 m from the sea, and fortunately in view of the sweltering heat, there is a cable car to take us to the top. The forest is so unspoilt it would make a great setting for the film Jurassic Park. There are panoramic views from the top to the islands around, as well as numerous shrines and an observation point. The whole walk takes about 4 hours but is well worth it. On returning we try the “Economiyaki” (I think that means cheap barbeque), a pancake fried with bacon, cabbage, beansprouts, egg and noodles. Accompanied by some Asahi beer, it’s a simple and delicious meal.
We take a short ferry and the JR train to our next and final destination: the A-bomb museum and memorial at Hiroshima.
Since the shrine was built in C12, the island has been deemed sacred and it became an extreme nature reserve. By “extreme” I mean there are some unusual rules: no trees can be felled, no ground cleared and no animals harmed. You are even not allowed to give birth here, nor die (I’m not sure how one guarantees that). One sign says “You may only leave your footprints here, take everything else with you”. Deer roam the High Street (in reality a tiny lane of mostly tourist shops) at will, completely ignoring humans, even if you stroke them. Elsewhere there are monkeys, lizards, snakes – all pretty tame – and a type of cricket about the size of half a boiled egg that makes a deafening noise trying to attract a mate. No wonder he keeps going, she’s clearly as put off as we are.
We are still staying Japanese style, in a 1970s built hotel, but it’s grander than the last one: we have a suite. The regime is similar to the last one, except we all eat downstairs (believe it or not all in our Yukata dressing gowns provided by the hotel) and there is a communal bath. Anyone hoping for one of those nude mixed German/Scandinavian-style saunas will be in for a disappointment: there are separate facilities for men and women. Furnished with a towel about the size of an A4 piece of paper, you sit at a wash-station on an upside-down plastic washing-up bowl. There’s soap etc, as well as a hand-shower – everything you need to get clean. Once clean (and with your piece of A4 strategically positioned) you head to the bath, the idea being that only clean bodies are allowed in. The bath is a cross between a Jacuzzi and a swimming pool (the water is hot, but it’s big enough to swim in or just to sit at the side), but most people are sitting rather than moving around. There’s another, smaller bath outside. We’re thoroughly confused by the communal bath’s opening hours as the receptionist (rather appropriately named “Oh”) tells us that it is open 24 hours a day, but is closed right now. In fact, it is open so often – so she claims – that it is really open 27 hours a day. “How many hours a day are there in Japan?” I ask. “24, but bath open 27 hours” Oh replies, proudly. The signs to the bath are not for the feint-hearted either, as they variously point to “Public Bath”, “Pubric Bath” and “Pubic Bath”.
We have a great example of Japanese service here: we ask Oh whether there is a laundry service and she replies “I will arrange it”. This in fact involves her taking our clothes home and washing them herself. There’s no charge – it’s “a pleasure” she says. We feel humbled.
The restaurant is worth a special mention: if le Guide Michelin had made it this far, this place would be up for a rosette. Dinner consists of perhaps 8 exquisitely prepared and presented separate dishes. Presentation of the sashimi is a work of art with the body of the fish set in ice, with the sashimi on top, and a shell gushing out smoke from liquid nitrogen (for effect only). One of the courses consists of a barbequed fish, which arrives on its own table-top portable barbeque. We are told to watch it cook itself for exactly 5 minutes before eating. Another is duck braised in a soy-based sauce, again over a naked flame, but this time the ‘saucepan’ is made of paper. The paper does not catch fire because of the sauce. It’s all quite magical. There is a small five-fingered leaf that appears as decoration on every dish (looks like marijuana, but isn’t), and is widely painted on buildings and even the streets. It’s the leaf from a local tree called Minojini, and is supposed to bring good luck.
This is not a place for wild parties. A sign at the ferry terminal proudly announces “No bars, no music” (George is downhearted). Walking down the High Street after dinner the only thing we saw was a deer. In fact, each hotel has its own entertainment with karaoke being popular everywhere. One evening we sing along to some old favourites (never been in a bar or night club in a dressing gown before, has to be said). We are invited to join a group of Japanese businessmen from a civil engineering company who are on a work jolly. The head man tells me earnestly that “Blair is a good man, a gentleman” and we set out to see who can sing better. Japan wins by a mile.
Miyajima Island rises over 500 m from the sea, and fortunately in view of the sweltering heat, there is a cable car to take us to the top. The forest is so unspoilt it would make a great setting for the film Jurassic Park. There are panoramic views from the top to the islands around, as well as numerous shrines and an observation point. The whole walk takes about 4 hours but is well worth it. On returning we try the “Economiyaki” (I think that means cheap barbeque), a pancake fried with bacon, cabbage, beansprouts, egg and noodles. Accompanied by some Asahi beer, it’s a simple and delicious meal.
We take a short ferry and the JR train to our next and final destination: the A-bomb museum and memorial at Hiroshima.
# posted by DavidF @ 14:53 
