Kansai: Day One (Miyajima)

Japan being Japan, we progressed incredibly efficiently, with excellent customer service every step of the way, from landing to baggage collection to sending our larger bags to our Kyoto hotel via the takuhaibin to collecting our Japan Rail pass to advance booking our train tickets to Takayama to sitting comfortably in the train to Hiroshima, watching the ticket inspector bow to the entire carriage before he started checking people’s tickets. I’ve decided it’s dangerous to go to Japan too often; when stuff is this effortless it makes you too soft to deal with the rest of Asia. Especially when you’re eying Laos for your next holiday (ulp).

After a quick 500Y udon lunch at a vending machine restaurant on the Hiroshima station platform, we hopped on another train to Miyajima-guchi, where we would take the ferry to Miyajima, our ultimate destination for the day. It is a sacred island to the Japanese, famous for the view of the Itsukushima Shrine’s torii (symbolic gate, it’s the red thing in the photo above) at high tide, AND IT HAS TAME DEER ROAMING THE STREETS. Of course, while planning our itinerary, I pretended to Alec that I was deeply interested in the religious and cultural aspects of the island.

NOW CHECK OUT THE DEER!

Miyajima Deer

Deer under a tree!

 

Deer in the bicycle lot!

 

Deer scratching its neck!

 

MUMMY AND BABY DEER! (The fawn kept trying to suckle by sticking its nose in between its mother’s legs as it trotted along behind her, which slightly disturbed my happy Bambi reverie.)

 

You are probably wondering how Alec managed to keep his lunchtime udon in his stomach in the midst of all this cuteness. It was tough on him, definitely. Here (visible to Flickr friends) is a very bored Alec stuck between mummy deer, fawn, and two little dogs. Don’t ask about the bacterial umbrella.

Eventually, once I had grudgingly accepted that stuffing the fawn into my overnight bag would be unwise, we continued our walk to Momijiso, our ryokan. We didn’t stay in any ryokans on the Tokyo trip since Alec was travelling for work that time, so we were glad to finally get the opportunity with this trip. In the price bands given by Japanese Guesthouses (a very useful service that helps non-Japanese speakers book ryokan rooms), A being the most expensive and D the cheapest, Momijiso is a C. So our room “only” cost us 33,000Y per night. You can do the math here, just try not to scream.

But hey, the trip was meant to be a belated first wedding anniversary celebration, and for the most terrifyingly priced accommodation we’d ever been in, at least it came with a lovely view onto the park, a carp pond just outside our window, two meals and a delightful obasan.

 

After freshening up, we took the ropeway up Mount Misen. We didn’t have time to hike up to the highest summit, but the views were pretty nice from what we did manage. The promotional pamphlet for the mountain is quite amusing - it lists a few things as among the “seven wonders of Misen”, but then clarifies that you can’t see them because they’re dead. The Ryuto-no-sugi is “the great cedar from which mysterious lights on the sea can be seen”. It’s now dead. The Shigure-zakura is a cherry tree which, on a fine day, “alone remains wet - seemingly caught in a rain. Can’t see the tree now because it has been dead.”

 

Dinner (included in the price of the ryokan room) was a spread of delicious home cooking by the aforementioned obasan - tuna, salmon and sea bream sashimi, cold tofu, lotus root with jellyfish, shrimp in light vinegar, grilled lobster (I’m allergic to lobster, so Alec got my lobster and let me eat his sashimi), sea bream in miso sauce, beef with green peppers and bamboo shoots, and for dessert, Japanese-style cheesecake and some of those huge amazing Japanese grapes where the juice tastes like wine when you bite into them. Here’s yukata-clad me (visible to Flickr friends) with just some of what we ate.

Miyajima at night is a far cry from its touristy daytime. Everything closes - no restaurants or bars are open because any tourist on the island eats in their ryokan.

 

The streets are largely empty except for a handful of strolling ryokan guests and the island’s nocturnal animals. A deer chased Alec 20m down the street after he bought an ice cream, and we also saw a tanuki! On the banks of the river, in the path of a powerful spotlight, a huge exhibitionist spider had made itself a helluva crib.

 

I didn’t see the big deal about Miyajima’s famous torii when I read about it in the guidebooks or saw pictures online. But in real life, gazing in the Miyajima evening calm at the bright red illuminated torii, its reflection rippling across the dark waters, was the moment I really felt like our holiday had begun.

 

Elizabeth Eckford’s America

I’m as overjoyed as most other people about the new President-Elect of the United States, but won’t do the obligatory gushing blog post for fear of descending into platitude. I do, however, want to share this Vanity Fair article I read over a year ago, and which I searched out and reread the day Obama won the elections, because it had stayed with me all that time.

The article isn’t about Obama but Elizabeth Eckford, one of the Little Rock Nine and subject of the famous photo you’ve probably seen of her attempt to enter her newly desegregated high school while behind her, a white girl’s face explodes in hatred. The article recounts that fateful day, Elizabeth’s harrowing high school years of constant bullying and total isolation, and how she continued to struggle with these experiences well into her adult life. Most fascinatingly, it tells of the reconciliation, friendship even, that occurred forty years later between Elizabeth and the angry white girl in the photograph, Hazel Bryan.

I’ll leave you to appreciate Through A Lens, Darkly in its full length. It paints a complex picture I’d rather not reduce to a summarizing, rose-tinted doodle, but I think it’s a fitting complement to one of the last few lines in Obama’s wonderful victory speech, where he was speaking about 106-year-old Ann Nixon Cooper and what she’d seen in her life: “And this year, in this election, she touched her finger to a screen, and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she knows how America can change.”

Meow Culpa

Google’s cache allowed me to restore all the posts I thought I’d lost, but not all of the comments. I’ve manually re-entered the comments that the cache did capture, but unfortunately I know that at least some comments by James, t, dubdew and Kelly (possibly others which I can’t recall) were lost. I’m sorry about that, everyone - I do really love that people participate here, and I wish I’d protected your comments better.

As a mark of my penitence I have made this commemorative lolcat.

pensive casey lolcat

Spacer

The short explanation is that my incredibly incompetent host 24hostingnow culminated many years of highly unsatisfactory service by descending into a massive downtime lasting several days, after which they were of course unable to restore my site to anything other than an error-filled shitfest. Since their backups were ridiculously outdated, the site eventually had to be restored from my relatively less outdated backup - which still means I’ve lost almost every post since the redesign.

I am obviously rather bummed by this, but in the context of eight years of blog content, 1.5 months is not a tragedy. It’s my own fault for not backing up more regularly, given that I already knew my hosts were nimrods. I guess I’d never got into the habit before because with Movable Type my content always survived server problems. Yet another way Wordpress makes my life way more troublesome than Movable Type ever did, but what’s done is done.

I’m not sure whether to try and recreate the lost posts or just move on. There’s a lot of background work I will definitely have to do (because I’d done a lot of category resorting and tagging which was probably lost as well), but hopefully that shouldn’t affect the surface functioning of the site. But anyway, I’m just glad I could finally tell you guys I’m not dead, just technically incapacitated. In the meantime, anyone got a good, affordable web host to recommend?

Update: Praise the Lord, Krishna, Guan Yin, Xenu and above all, GOOGLE! Have recovered a fair amount of stuff from Google’s cache, and will reinstate it soon. Yay!

Carefree Cha Ca

We took a long break from cooking together because of Alec’s business trip and then our holiday, but it was fun getting back into it over the long weekend. I’d been considering making cha ca (Vietnamese style fish with dill and turmeric) for a while as a good way to trim our ridiculously verdant dill plant, but all the recipes I came across online seemed rather troublesome and I am a lazy cook.

But then I came across this simplified cha ca recipe in a library book (can’t remember the name, will check on my next visit and update this post accordingly), and although it may not satisfy a purist, it’s damn tasty.

Vietnamese Dill Fish (closeup)
Cha ca for four

1. Marinate 1 pound firm-fleshed fish fillets (the book suggested tilapia or catfish, Alec brought home lovely fresh red snapper from the wet market, so we used that), cut into 2-3 inch chunks, up to 1 day in advance, in:

  • 2 tablespoons fish sauce (if you have Knife brand like us, consider going a bit easier on this or leaving out the salt below - we found the dish slightly too salty at the end)
  • 1 tablespoon oil
  • 1 tablespoon minced ginger
  • 1 teaspoon turmeric
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt

2. Okay, mealtime! The fish will cook really fast, so make the indispensable nuoc cham first. Put into grinding device (we only have an old school pestle and mortar, but presumably there are more new-fangled thingies to do this with):

  • 1 tablespoon chopped garlic
  • 2 tablespoons sugar
  • 1/2 teaspoon chilli / chilli garlic sauce or 1 teaspoon chilli flakes

Bump and grind it like R Kelly at the junior prom. When it’s a paste, stir in:

  • 3 tablespoons fish sauce
  • 3 tablespoons water
  • 2 tablespoons lime juice

3. Get these last few things in place before starting on the fish, because once you tip that out of the pan you’ll want to shove piping hot, fragrant chunks of it into your gaping maw, instantly.

  • Get some rice noodles cooking
  • Chop up 5 spring onions
  • Gather 2 cups coarsely chopped dill (checking first, if home-grown, for MOTHERFUCKING MEALYBUGS, RAAAARRRRGH!)
  • Gather 1 cup mint, coriander or Thai basil leaves

4. Right, we’re finally at the fish, but another reason I dawdled in getting here is because I don’t know anything about this bit - I generally leave Alec to handle any sweating over hot stoves. Anyway, the book said to heat 2 tablespoons of oil in a skillet on medium-high heat “until a piece of dill sizzles at once”. Put in fish for 2 minutes, turn, and give it another minute.

5. Chuck in dill and spring onions, another minute.

Vietnamese Dill Fish with dipping sauce and mint

6. Devour noodles, fish and herbs with nuoc cham, in delicious messy frenzy.

7. Realize several hours later that there’s a turmeric-stained noodle in your hair.

8. Pretend you meant for that to happen.

 

Good Doggie

Waugh! I’m not a dog person, but for dogs that risk their lives to save kittens from fire, I’ll make an exception. Warning: video contains unbearable cuteness.

Cover Versions

How shallow does it make me that I kinda wish the particular editions I had of the last two books I was reading (my reading is primarily done on public transport) had different covers?

The one I was reading before those two had a suitably pretentious cover, but unfortunately I must confess that I enjoyed it the least. (I’m glad I read it, albeit 20 years after first reading Jane Eyre, and it successfully achieves everything I expected it to achieve, but it took a little more commitment to get through than the others.)

Oh well, as unimpressive as those first two covers are for public reading, at least they’re not THIS! (Found via random surfing, more horror here)

What’s Your Favourite Scary Movie?

The unexpected consequence of watching The Exorcist at age 13 (and being utterly terrified by it) was that the experience somehow inoculated me against future horror movie misery, at least in the various horror movies I’ve had occasion to watch since then. I don’t actively seek them out and haven’t watched many of the classics like Suspiria or even The Shining, but at least I’ve been able to weather lesser stuff like teen slasher flicks or Asian horror movies quite unflappably. My blood pressure still spiked when Sadako made her awful, ungainly stagger out of the television screen in Ringu, and I still jumped when the sloth victim in Se7en moved, but at least none of that stayed with me afterwards.

Mildly emboldened by this, I have usually indulged my occasional inclinations to scare myself whenever they arise, spending hours reading about the Zodiac killer after watching Zodiac, and reading various Scariest Movie Scenes lists for pointers as to which scary movie to watch the next time I feel like watching a scary movie. But then I got married and moved out of my family’s home to an apartment where things frequently go bump in the night due to wind and neighbours, and where I live alone every time Alec goes on a business trip.

Such factors coalesced into a perfect storm of goose-bumps when, after Alec had left for yet another business trip mere hours after we returned from Kyoto, I made the mistake of getting caught up online reading reviews and discussion of The Orphanage (which I’d watched and loved on the flight) in our empty dark home, and ended up terrified of our navy blue, child-height laundry basket which I had earlier placed carelessly at the end of a corridor.

The problem is that, unable to admit from this experience that I am obviously still a total pussy, I haven’t been able to stop this self-sabotage. I’m sorely tempted to finally watch The Shining and read Naomi’s Room and The Haunting of Hill House, and some say Exorcist 3 is hugely underrated and a worthy successor to the first film. But these are really all very bad ideas. I don’t even know why I’m writing this post other than to link back to in future, when I’m frantically typing my last ever blog post while Alec chops down the door with an axe.

Taxi Jiver

Back from Kyoto! While I do the usual dawdle about processing photos and writing travel blog entries that abruptly end halfway into the holiday, have a random LOL: I was enjoying the snarky comments at Metafilter on The Cab Ride I’ll Never Forget, especially when people added their own anecdotes about their most memorable cab rides. Like much other Internet messageboard hilarity, the comic genius of designbot’s contribution is best appreciated unspoiled, and read in context with the rest of the thread, so I won’t explain here what I love about it, or post any excerpts. I just wanted to direct you to it because it totally made my day.

I Remember +353

We’re off to Kyoto, Miyajima and Takayama from tonight till next Monday for a much needed holiday.

I kept meaning to share Popagandhi’s wonderful post The Country Codes My Girlfriend And I Have Known with you from when I read and loved it last week, but tonight is still a pretty good time. It still gives me a real kick to actually walk through departure gates with Alec, as opposed to waving dolefully to each other separated by glass.

Bonus little blip of enjoyment: if you haven’t already heard Dengue Fever’s Tiger Phone Card1, it complements the read really well.

  1. Second best song on Venus On Earth, which is otherwise rather patchy. Here’s the best song, Seeing Hands.




Syntaxfree At Flickr

Monthly Archives