WWOOF

Stepping out of the Hirosaki JR station, I was pleasantly surprised at how developed the town was, bustling with activities. I was expecting it to be some god-forsaken place like the Murolan that I just left.

But my pleasant surprise turn into dismay when I had to pay Yen 760 for my bus-ride to Shiratori Farm and that they were not able to grant me internet access. Not as if I am a chronic internet surfer.

The host was a really systematic person and work by the book. He sticked to his time faithfully and everything from breakfast to dinner was on time. It was a cultural change from the usual lassie^fair style that I practised.

The work on the farm was not extremely difficult, I just found myself crawling around in fours on the mud, bending over for hours on end to either weed the farm or plant the seedlings. I gradually learn to appreciate weeding, for now I can differentiate the leaves of an onion plant, strawberry bush, pumpkin and tomatoes.

The hosts were a young couple, I could see that he was passionate about growing plants, and the lady was a great cook with one of the best voices I have ever heard. I was also exposed to the Japanese presentation for their meals and it brought me to a new meaning of presentation. I can't wait to try it when I return.

I really think he was very brave to let me touch his beloved plants.


Shiratori farm at the foot of Yama Iwaki


The chicken and cows pen


Water cress growing from the spring behind.


Flower salad


Onigiri

The Mist

I would not believe in such coincidence if I had not encountered it myself.

Caught The Mist at the cinema yesterday as we were so tired after a very unsatisfyng walk around Sapporo. Though I could appreciate the dangers of meddling with chemical warfare, the story was a bit to far-fetched to have giant octopus that towers over buildings. It was also disappointing that the lead actor, after all that he went through to save as many lives as possible, actually put a bullet through his son's head, for mistakening the sound of the military truck as the sound of that giant octopus. I guess I would not have been so sore about the storyline if they have not resorted to suicide so easily. Though it is just a story, movie-goers may just think that committing suicide is an acceptable choice when one has reached the point of no return. At the end of the day, the point of no return is also very subjective as well. It may be a lower threshold for people who are more pessimistic or sick.

Anyway, to cut the long story short, here I am sitting in the Youth Hostel of Mamulan, where the Japanese usually gather here to celebrate the first ray of sunlight. But it was at the moment shrouded in a mist, and my fingers were numbed from the cold. No dinner, no sunlight, only the wet and cold mist.

Hopefully it will blow away tomorrow before I leave.


The Pacific Ocean


Strong wind and wave


The isolated Youth Hostel at the top of the cliff


Unexpected surprise


Cherry Blossoms?


Warm shelter from the cold

Kyoto's Cheapest Inn きょと

Kyoto is such a sweet entry to Japan. It was one of the best decision we ever made to visit Kyoto as the first stop.

Though it was disappointing to have walked a few blocks to find the K's House fully occupied, and went through a slight panic attack when all the other guesthouses in the vicinity were also fully occupied for that night, we were very glad to have found Kyoto's Cheapest Inn.

It was run by an extremely obliging staff, who not only gave us discount coupons to different kinds of Japanese restaurants patronised by the Japanese themselves, and even put up information about Aoi Matsuri that we so luckily chanced upon.

And for just 500\, we get to rent the bicycles for the whole day. Though we didn't visit that many temples in detail, it was such a pleasant day to weave in and out of the streets to look at the houses, the shops, the temples and not forgetting the ride to the outskirts and down by the river.

From the self-suffient pantry with oven, toaster, refrigerators to cutlery and utensils, they have everything you need to cook up a storm. Though the bathroom is no longer than one metre long and half a metre a wide, it is amazing the comfort it can give you.

Compact and mimimalistic - and definitely without clutter.

I can't wait to upload my photos onto my blog. Wish I had been more serious in packing my things before the trip.


Japanese pickles - ancient style


Japanese rice - of various quality


Tamagoyaki - my all time favourite


Quaint Japanese houses


Lunch break