In which Layla and Roz meet Tokyo

By Layla

Gosh: Tokyo. If this were just any holiday, we’d have been thrilled to see Tokyo, but when you’re about to live somewhere for several years, there is a whole new level of thrill: anticipation, trepidation, mild terror… And of course it was raining.

We dashed through the downpour to a waiting car that drove us directly to the apartment we’ll be moving into next week til the end of August so we could make various key decisions about the furniture. In a daze, we ambled from room to room of our empty new home, finding life quite remarkable and the specifics of which chest of drawers to keep inappropriately prosaic. Afterwards we were whisked to Roz’s place of work for various welcome meetings, and installed in our temporary apartment (til the other one is ready). And then the rain went off and we walked around the Imperial Palace moat to Ginza and Annam, apparently the best Indian restaurant in Tokyo. We gorged on paneer and toasted our new life… but first, three days of vehemently being on holiday.

Up bright and early thanks to inadequate curtains, we were ready for action! We invested in monthly underground train passes and were extremely smug about this (til later that day when we learned that not all underground lines belong to the same company…) And then off we zoomed. First stop: Shibuya!

Shibuya is a central Tokyo neighbourhood that’s home to the famous busy street crossing you always see in films. Viewing it from above in the Shibuya Starbucks is a quintessential tourist experience and we duly grabbed it. Afterwards, we pottered around Shibuya, hunting for a Time Out Tokyo magazine, and buying Roz a cute school satchel at the ridiculously beautiful stationery department of Parco, a big department store. Soon we were in Yoyogi Park, a lovely public park filled with cherry blossoms, lawns, ponds, and people having picnics. After randomly popping into NHK News (the equivalent of the BBC) to see a little photography exhibition, we walked around the park, then popped out at Harajuku, an area famous for a shrine plus lots of young people hanging out wearing ridiculous costumes. Alas the young people were probably all in school when we visited but we walked down the main street where they buy lots of their clothes, which was fun, and ended up in Omotesando. This is a posh area with fancy shops and boutiques, and charming trendy cafes. And home to something I feared in my heart I would be deprived of for the next few years: avocado toast! It was very, very good. As were the baked-on-the-spot madelines with which we washed it down. We were very proud of our morning’s accomplishments!

We spent the afternoon walking to and then exploring Shinjuku Gyoen Park. This is a special landscaped Japanese Garden and of course we have already grown to love them. Just as well, since Tokyo has an abundance. However, Shinjuku Gyoen is one of the most famous, so we braced ourselves for the admission fee. Oh, 70p. Unexpected. We were entirely enchanted by this really beautiful park (though sadly their carp didn’t jump as they did in Hiroshima), and particularly as the cherry blossoms were still out, bathing the whole place in a glorious pink carpet. We kept trying to leave but then telling each other ‘oh, but it’s so lovely… let’s explore just one more corner!’

We went home for a quick rest, then headed out again, this time to an area we’d never heard of: Kichioji. In fact it turned out to be a small trek via overground rail, pleasingly enabling us to use our rail passes on their final day. Our mission: to see London’s National Theatre production of The Audience, via the NT Live film platform which turned out to be on that night at the Kichioji Odeon. Kichioji turned out to be quite a cool area, and we had a quick Japanese curry dinner at the trendy SoupStock before settling down with our £1 popcorn to watch the play. Which was brilliant. As we journeyed home, we mused that Tokyo was much prettier, quieter and cheaper than we’d anticipated… and we were already getting ready to fall in love with it.

After the grand success of our first day in Tokyo, I was intimidated by the task of planning Day 2. Especially as I’d weirdly decided to plan it all around a random cheese shop Roz had once read about, which was located in an obscure district. Off we went, but it couldn’t have been that obscure in the end, because first stop: Blue Bottle coffee. We first visited Blue Bottle in San Francisco and have happy memories of it, especially its impossibly pretentious hipster vibe. Which was entirely replicated at their Tokyo coffee roastery in Kiyosumi. We thus had a lovely sunny start to the morning with coffee and green-tea-and-lemon cake in their café before proceeding to nearby Kiyosumi Garden (and splashing out 60p for the privilege of admission). Another remarkably beautiful, charming, serene landscaped garden, another delightful lake around which to stroll… Afterwards we found ourselves walking along canals and suddenly a big, beautiful, sparkling river spanned by umpteen bridges and traversed by numerous pleasure boats. To be honest, we had not seen this coming! Hadn’t really considered that Tokyo had a big river running through it. Much less that it would have a long, beautifully landscaped pedestrian walkway! What a treat. In fact it wasn’t til we were having lunch overlooking the river at the amusingly hip Mile Post Café that I realised I’d entirely forgotten to go to the cheese shop upon which the whole expedition had been based!

After lunch, and coffee at another ridiculously cool café, we took to the water. I’d booked a kayak tour, and didn’t know what to expect. What we received was paddling down serene, beautiful canals, going past quiet neighbourhoods, waving to locals, munching on Japanese snacks, and having a charming, relaxing time… punctuated by occasional peril and terror as we battled huge (definitely huge, I say!) waves, trying to cross the aforementioned river. What a fun trip.

We went home to dry off/glam up, for a particularly exciting expedition: our first proper visit to Daikanyama, the neighbourhood we’ll be living in for the next several months. People have described it as a cross between Covent Garden and Brooklyn. It’s certainly unlike much of the rest of Tokyo. We approached from Shibuya, climbing up and over a giant motorway, up a big hill (the yama of Daikanyama means mountain…) and finally, there we were! It was dark, we probably weren’t on the main arteries, but we wound our way round little alleys peppered with boutiques and cafes and all things charming til we reached our specific destination for that night: the T Site. This area is named after its flagship bookshop, Tsutaya Books. In addition to the huge bookshop itself (which includes a café and a bar), the very beautiful T Site has several other cool shops, the trendiest dog park you’ll ever see, and Ivy Place, a fancy Italian restaurant, and our destination for the evening. We toasted our new life and ate delicious food and it was all fabulous.

The final day of our holiday is always a risky time for back-to-reality angst, but this was certainly the weirdest-feeling final day we’ve ever had… after all, tomorrow we’ll still be in the same apartment! We started the day by hopping on free bikes and cycling to our local French patisserie where we loaded up with croissants which we ate moments later in a pretty park overlooking the Imperial moat. Duly fuelled, we set off on a cycle round the 5km Imperial moat route that we walked on our first night. Halfway through, we were intrigued to see people apparently entering the gates. We followed them and found it was yet another gloriously landscaped Japanese garden: the Imperial Garden, in fact! We looked at each other: hmmm we wanted to take a look but this time it would surely be expensive? We went to the admission desk and were furnished with tickets. How much this time? Free! Tokyo is ridiculous. We had a lovely stroll round (punctuated only by fear our bicycles would be removed while we were gone as we parked them somewhere silly), and then, laughing at what fun things are within strolling distance of our from-August house, continued our cycle around the moat. And just when we thought things were brilliant enough, we cycled down a cherry blossom-coated romantic pathway and found ourselves at a boathouse. Five minutes later we were in a rowing boat, rowing around part of the moat as the cherry blossoms fell like snow around us and dotted the surface of the water in pink. Eating a post-rowing ice cream (they are big on Mr Whippy-style ice cream cones here!), we mused upon the excellence of the day so far.

After dropping off our bikes, we headed to Akihabara, an area famous for buying electronic goods, and nerdy men hanging out in maid cafes… but there were two cool cafes I wanted to visit. The first, a hammocks hanging in an indoor-but-looks-like-outdoor hipster haven in an arty market under the railway arches, was full, so we dined in the sort of place that in other cities would be an exciting go-to spot like Union Market in Washington… but I’m starting to see that Tokyo has so many cool venues that this is probably one of a million… at any rate we had a 30-vegetable salad for lunch – the healthiest thing we’ve probably eaten in Japan so far! Afterwards I found the other café, in a similarly hip locale, and had dessert in a glass box type café between two train lines, while trains zipped past.

We then walked to Ueno Park, the first think in Tokyo I’ve not unqualifiedly adored. It was busy and chaotic with a disappointing tarmac-to-grass ratio… but it did have an extremely popular swan pedal boat pond. We fought our way through the crowds but by the time we got to the station we were a bit rumpled and weary. We staggered out at our final stop: Asakusa. This is old Tokyo, and home to the famous Senso-ji temple (some guidebooks say the most famous sight in Tokyo). We refuelled with tea and scones and a restorative read of our books, then went for a walk to the temple and along the river. All very nice, but a bit busy and tiring…

We ditched our evening cinema plans for fear of falling asleep during the film, and found our local supermarket instead. Roz cooked a delicious meal and we are about to watch a film at home, and celebrate what has been an outstandingly fun and exciting holiday, and an amazing introduction to life in this country. This is our final Japan holiday blog – tomorrow real life begins!

Books read on this holiday

Layla – The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet (Becky Chambers), Stone Mattress (Margaret Atwood), The Hitchhikers’ Guide to the Galaxy – all 5 books! (Douglas Adams), At the Edge of the Orchard (Tracy Chevalier), The Family from One End Street (Eva Garnett) and in the middle of Arcadia (Iain Pears).

Roz – At the Edge of the Orchard (Tracy Chevalier), The Little Old Lady who Broke All the Rules (Catharina Ingelman-Sundberg), The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet (Becky Chalmers), The Boy Who Could See Death (Sally Vickers), Armadale (Wilkie Collins), No Name (Wilkie Collins), Arcadia (Iain Pears), The Hunger Games trilogy (Suzanne Collins), Reader I Married Him (Tracy Chevalier), and in the middle of Curtain Call (Anthony Quinn).

In which Roz and Layla finally catch the cherry blossoms (and a big floating gate) in Hiroshima

By Roz

I didn’t have particularly high hopes for the Hiroshima leg of our holiday. We didn’t have particularly exciting Hiroshima plans. In fact I’d planned for us to stay there for two nights mainly to break up the looong journey from Yakushima to Tokyo (more than 12 hours!).  Reading about the city beforehand, I feared it would be (understandably) only focussed on its sad past without a great deal of fun. But I was pleased to find myself proved wrong. 

We got up at a horribly early hour to get the bus to the port in Yakushima - the first leg in our four leg journey: bus, ferry, taxi, train.  The journey was uneventful – though pleasingly did involve a quick diversion via the delightful grassy area outside Kagoshima station that we’d found on our way there to buy muffins to sustain us on our journey.  Arriving in Hiroshima just after lunch, we met a glorious innovation in travel-with-several-giant-unwieldy-bags: a hotel attached to the station! Hooray. After dumping our things, I persuaded Layla that we should shun the free bus that we could get into the centre of town in favour of walking - a plan her legs objected to vigorously after all the hiking over cedar roots of the previous couple of days but she agreed nonetheless.

The walk was not necessarily through Hiroshima’s most glorious streets, but as we crossed the river into town, we were met with a shocking reality: we hadn’t missed the cherry blossoms after all! For this entire holiday we’ve travelled south as the cherry blossoms travelled north, meaning that before we left, everyone said “wow, so jealous: you’ve timed this trip perfectly for the cherry blossoms!” but when the harsh reality of our route set in, we have since had nothing buy people saying either: “shame you weren’t here last week, the cherry blossoms were terrific” or “shame you aren’t staying till next week, the cherry blossoms will be amazing”. But now, there the blossoms were in all their pink fluffy glory. We walked amongst them, taking photographs with similar enthusiasm to the ten thousand other people standing next to us taking the same photos, and musing that at least this means that I won’t have to lie when I’m asked about what I thought of the amazing cherry blossoms whilst we were on holiday…

En route to the Peace Park we stopped off in a delightful coffee shop – something Japan seems to do especially well – and read a little of our books (indeed Layla complained that I should stop reading books that are “so exciting you don’t want to do anything but read…”). After she dragged me away, we walked to the Peace Park. For a memorial of something so horrible, it was indeed peaceful and beautiful, and it was lovely to see everyone both acknowledging the horrors, and simultaneously being able to line the riverbank by the Peace Park, which was particularly drenched in cherry blossoms, with umpteen picnic blankets, with happy groups drinking and eating and chatting and taking photos. It was a really positive experience.

From the Peace Park we wandered around the moat of Hiroshima’s castle and then went to Shukkei-en garden “shrunken-scenery garden” which was well named and a delightful place to meander around. Japan, of course, does an excellent line in landscaped gardens! Layla was particularly charmed by the jumping koi carp in the pond, who were reaching a metre or more out of the water!

By this point, it was time for dinner.  Well, time if you like eating early and are going to the cinema at 7pm.  We started off in a wine bar which didn’t live up to its online promise but which made me very happy for having the Guinness-marbled cheese which I ate in Veritas winebar on our very first night in Washington (ah, sentimental as ever). Amusing that we’ve both coveted this cheese ever since Washington but never yet found it again… til now!

From there we headed to what I think was described somewhere as a theme park for okonomiyaki-lovers.  Okonomiyaki – just in case you are not a connoiseur of this dish – is a kind of pancake with a huge amount of cabbage and noodles, topped with an egg, which are made on a hot plate in front of your eyes.  This place turned out to be an indoor food market, with lots of vendors over several floors of an old building and had a cheery ambience (which had been notably missing from the wine bar other than my joy at the cheese).  We had half of one okonomiyaki each and agreed that we’d had a good multi course and multi venue dinner…  Embarrassingly, it was still a bit early for the film so we went and hung out at the delightful cinema café / bar for a bit so Layla could round off our meal with an ice cream dessert (and ha, I got back to my book!).  The film – Five Flights Up – wasn’t particularly good, despite having a fairly good cast.  But oh my, it was a delightful experience, with comfy seats and not having to think about stressful Japanese things at all for two hours.  Leaving the cinema, we resolved to go to the cinema more often in the next few weeks to help block out the consistent and unproductive low-grade anxiety that keeps impinging on our holiday as we intermittently remember that we’re actually in the process of moving here… 

Walking home we weren’t quite ready for the evening to be over and so went in to a delightful wine bar for sparking wine and compliments (Layla was told she was beautiful and that her Japanese was great…Me, not so much). 

Next morning we had a gorgeous lie in, not waking till 8.30. The decadence! And the bed was so comfy – all the more so after numerous nights on futons on tatami mat floors.  However, once we were up we headed straight out of Hiroshima to Miyajima – a seaside island town near Hiroshima famed for its red gate that appears to be floating on the water at high tide: officially designated one of Japan’s top three views! Off the train, our first stop was a coffee and snack stop in Blue Bird Coffee, a cute place near the station.  Then, onto a ferry and our first sight of the floating gate.  I’m afraid that I didn’t do enough research to work out why there is a red floating gate in this particular place.  We saw it both floating (high tide) and not (low tide) and it felt to me as though I was in a post-apocalyptic novel, and the gate was a remnant of a previous civilisation before sea levels had changed or some such.  I think this would be a niche perspective though…

Miyajima turned out to be lovely.  The sun shone (indeed I was surprised to find later that I’d almost got sun burn on my shoulders), friendly deer roamed the streets (in a much nicer way than in Nara) and there was a generally jolly atmosphere.  We wandered through town on a doomed attempt to hire kayaks and then sat under some cherry blossoms by a canal (and deer) to reconfigure our plans.  And then we were on a cable car, soaring to the top of a mountain (this might be an over-generous description of what could also be seen as a very big hill) shrine and 360 degree views over the Inland Sea.  Regular readers will remember that we cycled over a number of Inland Sea islands last week and so we felt extra fond of it seeing it glistening in the sun from far above.  The cable car ride was surprisingly long (not least surprising since I’d seen a number of hikers shunning the cable car in favour of walking – Japanese hikers must be hardier than us).  At the top, Layla tried to persuade me to go into the temple of love to make a local cookie, do something with the eternal flame, and declare eternal love, as couples were being encouraged to do, but I was not absolutely enthused by the requirement to declare our gayness quite so vigorously (an approach I shall have to depart from when we get to Tokyo).  However, she got distracted by an unlikely enthusiasm to hike to the very top of the mountain (entailing going down a bit and then uphill a lot).  I’m always game for such things, and very much enjoyed both mocking Layla for her unlikely enthusiasm for hiking uphill (and her predictable regrets that started three minutes into the enterprise), and the views that we were rewarded with at the top. 

We stopped for a while at the top of the mountain / big hill, until hunger lured us to start the long descent to the bottom of the mountain.  The walk down was lovely, though by the time we reached the bottom at 2.30 I was over-enthusiastic about food.  We ended up having another okonomiyaki and then went for coffee in yet another nice café where Layla got the news that someone is willing to pay for her to go to Washington / Philly in June for a conference (inducing much enthusiasm and envy in me).  We concluded our delightful day trip with a walk along the sandbar to the no-longer-floating gate and then further along the beach before catching the ferry and train home. 

Back in our room, we did a few chore type things before for a delicious and cheery Indian dinner in a nearby restaurant and then a couple of drinks in our new favourite wine bar, and then bed.  This morning we’re en route to Tokyo – our new home, which I’ve never been to – but I have to say I liked Hiroshima and its delightful daytrip opportunities much

In which Layla and Roz hike in Yakushima's ancient cedar forests and meet friendly locals

By Layla

When we got to Kagoshima, the southern tip of Kyushu island, we had some regrets that we were just passing through: it looked a lovely city, all surrounded by ocean and loomed over by an active volcano. But we had lunch at a charming outdoor market between a book stall and a flower stall, and felt quite cheery, before boarding the jetfoil boat to Yakushima.

Yakushima is a small, southerly island famed for its amazing ancient cedar forests, inspiration for Japanese anime and catnip for those of us who love beautiful hiking routes. Other than hiking, and onsens, there is not much going on… After dumping our bags at the hotel, we strolled around Miyanoura town marvelling at how little a town could offer in terms of things for a tourist to do. But then, attached to the tourist information office, we found salvation in Jane, a lovely little café sporting not just delicious chiffon cake, but also British tea. Roz’s eyes glowed with the crazed anticipation of a tea junkie in withdrawal, and so we whiled away our afternoon, lamenting that in our day of mostly transit, we lacked any good photos for our daily Facebook update. ‘Uneventful’ we branded the day… which was of course tempting fate.

Later that evening, after stocking up with breakfast and snacks at the local co-op grocery store, we went in search of somewhere to eat. We walked miles but the potentially vegetarian-friendly option identified by the tourist office seemed to no longer exist. Finally I announced that I was going to just open the door of the next Japanese style restaurant/izakaya and try my luck. One frustrating thing about Japan so far is that their restaurants, other than being subtly marked by a lantern, seem to be entirely concealed from outside perusal, so you can’t peek in a window to see if you like the look of it or not. You either know about it in advance, or just take your chances! So when I got to a random one, I pushed the door and in we went.

It was immediately obvious that it was indeed some kind of restaurant and that the ambience was convivial. There was a waiter-looking man washing his hands near the door so I turned to him and in my best Japanese, enquired as to whether there was any vegetarian food. “Vegetarian!” he exclaimed in vigorous delight. And then (in Japanese) “Come and eat with my family!” Ah, so not a waiter. He vigorously dragged us all the way through the busy rooms til we found his mother, father and younger brother sitting on the floor, finishing their meal, and looking a tad alarmed. Still, we were made to sit, beer was ordered, and once they had established the parameters of our freakish dietary needs, shouted loudly for vegetable-based tapas-type items which were duly delivered. Conversation flowed – from them to us, while we looked mostly bemused and desperately tried to catch occasional words that might give us clues as to what the topic of discussion might be while they stared expectantly at us, awaiting our answers to their questions. Then as our odd host proclaimed himself a samurai, possibly a chat up line, his parents declared they needed to take the younger son home to bed. A lot of discussion was had which involved money. Then, with entreaties to eat and drink a lot, they were suddenly gone. We were left trying to make conversation with a delighted-looking boy. This went on increasingly awkwardly for about 10 minutes. Then the waitress approached the table holding a comedy old-style phone, telling our samurai that he had a phone call. He duly took the short call, said something to us about a job and an accident, tried to throw loads of money at us (which we declined) and fled. What had happened? Was this a scenario of getting a friend to call with a pseudo-emergency to get one out of a bad blind date? Was there actually some kind of emergency? We will never know. All we know is that we were left with a pile of food and beer, lots of Japanese people staring at us… and all expenses paid.

The next day we took the bus to Yakusugiland, one of the two best hiking areas on the island. Winding our way up into the mountains (and sadly into the clouds), we got excited… then we were there. Japan seems to do a good line in hiking routes where the first couple of miles are nicely paved and form a little loop for those who are more strollers than hikers… then they produce a range of ever-longer loops for the more hardcore hikers to choose from, all beautifully, tastefully signposted. Obviously Roz announced that the longest route had our name on it and off we went. The scenery was indeed beautiful and otherworldly, all green moss and ridiculously large trees (you could walk underneath their roots!). We had a fun bento box picnic, with a Japanese-style packed lunch from our hotel, and then walked on and on, across cool bridges, up hills… most of the walking involved picking our way through huge tree roots, so I was physically and mentally exhausted by the time we got the bus down the hill (and back to Jane café for more tea and chiffon cake – medicinal!).

That evening we tried out the hotel onsen, which was fun and relaxing, then had a huge walk to another restaurant, this one more of a Western-style sports bar. We ate French fries, rice balls, and salad while watching the women’s ice skating championship on TV – not the sort of sports that you’d expect on a sports bar TV at home!  By coincidence we were there just as all the Japanese competitors were on – and at that time doing well – and we cheered on Japan with vigour. Torrential rain ensued and we taxied home.

The following day we had decided to tackle the best hike on the island and, some say, in all of Japan. Shiranti Unsuikyo is a truly ancient forest and the place that inspired the famous anime scenery. The whole place was full of waterfalls and coated in a thick, vibrant layer of moss. It felt like we were in a fairytale, where anything might happen. Obviously what did happen was lots of hiking up hills, precarious crossing of rivers, and me wishing that my breath and leg muscles matched my enthusiasm for vigorous hiking! It was also unfortunate that I dropped Roz’s wallet and iPhone in the river… However, we all survived (including the iPhone) and entirely exhausted, caught the bus home. We’d hoped to go paddleboarding in the afternoon but alas the wind picked up and the paddleboarding man emailed us that this was a bad plan. So what could we do: Jane café and the chiffon cake and tea awaited! The man who ran it was delighted to see us again, gave us our “usual” and sought reassurance we’d be back again next year – and so we felt like locals.

After partaking of another onsen, we dined in the hotel restaurant. This was another multi-course extravaganza (the normal type of meal in a ryokan) involving, in our case, all the vegetarian things in the world. Extra fun as we were wearing the hotel dressing gown-type garb called yukata. Very comfy and nice, but as Roz swanned around elegantly in her, I had to concede that the particular dimensions of my bottom, hitherto unanticipated by Japanese yukata designers, were rendering my whole yukata-wearing experience somewhat less than modest…We retired to our bedroom and rounded off the evening with a game of Scrabble in our bedroom (where I regained my previously lost Scrabble dignity with a score of over 400). Early to bed for a horribly early start the following day: a ferry back to the mainland and then onward: to Hiroshima!

In which Roz and Layla cycle across the sea and find an unlikely hipster hangout

By Roz

Our last blog left you as we were about to get the train from lovely Okayama to Imabari for a two-day cycle trip.  The train to Imabari was delightful in the way that Japanese trains are.  By this I mean: quiet, pleasant and on time (resulting in lots of opportunities to focus on my book).  Imabari itself proved to be an unremarkable town from what I could see from a taxi to the start of the cycle and I felt relieved that I had designed our holiday to start here rather than finish. 

We acquired two good bikes with ease (and I should take the opportunity to rebut the general narrative that Japan is expensive – bike hire was a grand total £16 for the two of us for two days, including a phone number to call if we got into trouble…albeit with my Japanese the trouble would have to be quite bad before I decided to make a phone call…!).  As we set off – following a blue line on the ground that was to accompany us throughout our 70km journey – we gazed with some trepidation at the Golden Gate-esque suspension bridge that we knew we’d be traversing shortly.  But our fears proved unnecessary.  The winding path that took us up to the bridge was an attractive, relatively gentle incline – an approach that the designers of the Shimanami Kaido cycle path proved to have repeated for each of the five bridges, much to my relief. 

And the cycle itself was a delight.  Each of the six islands – all linked by towering glamorous suspensions bridges – has its own speciality ranging from stone carvings (Layla spotted an excellent one of a lady in a top hat) to roses, salt, oranges and lemons.  It was fun cycling through the islands (never worrying about being lost because of the blue line showing the way) seeing people’s daily lives and admiring their random speciality.  About 25km into the cycle I decided that lunch ought to be on the cards and a quick bit of googling from the side of the road brought up information about an unlikely-sounding patisserie / café on the second island.  The pictures looked too delightful for there not to be a problem but this pessimistic perspective proved to be entirely inaccurate and before long we were ensconced in a lovely place with brilliant floor to ceiling windows facing the sea, filled with nice Japanese ladies (all of whom clearly made a conscious effort not to grimace at the sight of two over-eager and not-so-glamorous cyclists).  We then found that it was a seafood café (doesn’t every town have a seafood café and patisserie?!) and I feared that all was lost.  But in fact the café staff took our vegetarianism in their stride and produced a delightful corn soup, cheese on toast and salad set meal for us, which fuelled us up nicely for the second part of the cycle. 

The third island – the island of oranges – had a brilliant rest area for cyclists.  It’s a park overlooking the sea with facilities from bathrooms to an orange filled souvenir shop.  We parked our bikes and lay on the sea wall and read for a while in the sun and then went to explore.  I wanted quite a lot of the orange products, but resisted because of a lack of enthusiasm for adding additional weight to my bag.  We were disappointed we couldn’t buy just one orange but only 6…and then immensely touched when the nice shop lady smiled, rummaged around in a box and produced one: “presento”, she said. 

We headed onto the fourth island, the lemon island – where we were going to be spending the night – in the middle of the afternoon.  By this point, I was keeping my eyes open in hopes of seeing Dolce, the famed ice cream shop (whose speciality is, unsurprisingly, lemon ice cream). Alas no luck by the time we’d come to the ryokan where we were to sleep.  So, having checked in, and verified that we were staying somewhere perfectly adequate, if alarming, but not sufficiently lovely to linger – I persuaded Layla that we should get back on our bikes and go in search of ice cream and explore the town.  I was surprised that I was successful in this, since Layla’s face gave a clear message that cycling 40km in one day was more than enough (all the more so since we’ve not really cycled since Washington).  But the promise of ice cream does have its own persuasions, I guess…

If I’d known how far the ice cream shop was going to prove to be, I don’t think I’d have made the case in favour of  “just cycling a bit further” so vigorously.  But it turns out that a 12km cycle is what we are prepared to do for the sake of ice cream (I’m not proud).  Fortunately it was mainly along the beautiful coastline and on the flat, but even so…  And I can report that the ice cream was indeed excellent.  Retracing our steps, we stopped off in town to poke our noses through the gates of the now closed sculpture garden (yes, I know we should have prioritised that over ice cream, but heigh ho) and saw a few temples and such like. 

Back in our ryokan – eventually – we decided to go for a shower in the slightly terrifying shared shower / bath room.  This proved more fun than I’d expected – it was a bit like a mini-onsen but with just the two of us there – with a couple of showers and giant Japanese bath filled with steaming water and, of course, lemons.  After this it was pretty much dinnertime, and we stood outside the dining room with our noses pushed up against the window almost as though we’d not just greedily eaten ice cream.  Dinner was peculiar and quite good.  They’d agreed to come up with something vegetarian, and so they had.  We mainly didn’t know what exactly we were eating, but it was all relatively nice.  We did, however, discover, that the eating pace of two hungry girls who’ve cycled more than usual is rather different from elegant Japanese people (only some of whom had cycled, and who had clearly found it less challenging) and so were bemused to find ourselves finishing our first course just at the moment that our fellow diners were musing on lifting their chopsticks.  Ah well…

Up in our room after dinner, we played an excellent game of Scrabble.  I say excellent because I won decisively – possibly the first time this has ever happened.  I slept the sleep of the smug and woke up next morning feeling only a tiny bit sore.  Layla, however, had acquired a cold.  Colds are a disaster in Japan, since Japanese people are horrified by sneezing and so managing a cold requires either (a) a lot of leaving the room or (b) a lot of offending people.  However, like the heartless beast that I am, after breakfast I told Layla to buck up and get on her bike.  With a large number of whimpers Layla did so and we got back on the road.  The fifth island was my least favourite of the lot – with lots of factories and such like – though we did have a pleasant stop-off in a deserted flower garden (where Layla blew her nose to her heart’s content).  Our last bridge proved the most fun, though, since the cycle path was immediately beneath the bit of the bridge for cars and so it felt as though we were in a bizarre and beautiful open tunnel in the sky. 

The very last bit of the cycle was a tiny ferry journey (which kind of seems like a cheat and kind of seems delightful) which took us to our final destination of Onomichi.  And so just before lunchtime we found ourselves in this seaside town depositing our bikes and feeling pleased with ourselves.  Onomichi is an intriguing place.  It is famed for having being one of those dilapidated towns with no young people and no jobs.  And then, it began to change.  Though what sounds like a distinctly unconventional scheme, the local government managed to attract young people back by giving them free broken down houses and saying that they could keep them if they repaired them. And the increase in young people has had meant that the town is now full of charming shops and coffee shops and a boutique cycle hotel in a converted warehouse – our home for the next two nights. 

We staggered into the hotel, though taking the time to revel in its fabulously hipster vibe.   It was too early to check in, so we went to the bakery and had a delicious squash and cheese toastie and coffee.  We went for a poke around town (including a stop off in a delightful café with pancakes and strawberries) until it was time for us to check in.  I then had a bath (sadly sans lemons) and then returned to the bakery for more coffee whilst Layla showered and called her parents.  In the interim, I found something on the internet about a ping pong parlor and it struck me that this would be the perfect activity to finish off our afternoon.  But alas, no address.  Layla manfully went to consult the hotel staff about this (I read my book) and returned clutching a map.  Sweetly, the hotel staff had phoned to check that we could go and so we were all set. 

We headed off into the old town.  Apparently ping pong was to be found in an old Japanese house – one of the ones repaired by a returning Japanese young person.  It was brilliant walking through the old twisty Japanese streets and eventually we found the venue.  Well, kind of.  We went into a café that was supposed to be next door to the ping pong and asked for help.  The café occupiers looked disconcerted and doubtful.  After much discussion – which I couldn’t follow – a young Japanese man with a beard and flowing hair pointed us to the next building.  We poked our head through the door doubtfully.  Our ping pong parlour turned out to be an empty dilapidated room lined with old manga books, with a very distressed ping pong table.  We weren’t absolutely sure what the building was – eventually we concluded it was either a community centre or a squat. However, we were there and I like a game of ping pong.  So we pushed 300 yen into the unwilling hands of the lady in the next door café, fixed up the ping pong table and started playing.  It was all slightly surreal until I won three times in a row at which point I felt confident that it wasn’t a dream.  Random, but fun.

We went for another walk along the sea front, before settling down to a good, if unslimming, dinner in the warehouse restaurant in our hotel. 

Next morning, we awoke after sleeping brilliantly on the first comfortable beds we’ve had in ages.  We lay in bed till the late hour of 9 and then got up for breakfast.  We were dismayed to see it was raining and consulted numerous forecasts about the day’s weather.  We chose to believe the one which said it would stop raining shortly and decided to continue on with our plan of a temple, literature and cat walk around the hills of Onomichi.  Alas, we believed the wrong weather forecast and what would in sunshine have been a delightful walk was, well, wet and a bit less delightful.  We continued on stoically for a while, passing temples, seeing stones with quotes from Japanese literature carved on them and random carvings of cats and we walked up to an observatory to admire what would have been a stellar view on a more delightful day.  We ended up taking refuge in the art museum.  This was small and the art ranged in quality.  But it was fun to see (and was not outdoors).  And then we headed to lunch. 

Our lunch venue of the day was a café called Yamaneko (Mountain Cat) which I’d read about (though the name remains a mystery since we are not the mountains..).  It was almost full and very hippyish but cheery and had a delicious vegan set lunch. Since this had been one of our best meals so far, whilst Layla was paying I took a quick look at the dinner menu and decided to keep it in mind as an option (since the previous night’s gnocchi and copious cheese, whilst delicious, was probably not something wise to repeat). 

After lunch, we decided to make the most of the weather and return to our delightful hotel to read (in my case) and work (Layla’s case).  By the time we’d finished, the rain had cleared up and it was one of those lovely post rain skies: almost luminescent.  We went for a walk and explored a Japanese bookshop – and then it was time for dinner.  My enthusiasm for reading had meant I’d not thoroughly investigated our dinner options and so I persuaded Layla to return to our hippy lunch venue for dinner.  This we did, and had another satisfactory meal and some grapefruit beer.  Our walk home was enhanced by the local practice of lighting up all the cranes beautifully – turning them into art – and so we arrived back our hotel in a cheery mood for a final drink before bed. 

And now, we’re off to the depths of the south – an island called Yakushima which is famed for its beauty and rain.  Fingers crossed as to which of those two we see the most of…