Japan's enigmatic dichotomy was palpable before I even emerged on her soil, as I was brusquely ushered into the foreigner's lane at Fukuoka airport immigration, then urged roughly to complete a missing word on my immigration form. Subsequently however I was warmly welcomed by bowing and smiling workers as I made my way out to a taxi. When the door whispered open as I approached, the liveried driver inquired where I was going and the taxi wafted classical music into the impeccable, white cotton covered back seating area, I sighed and relaxed into the ambiance of meditative, peaceful, wonderful Japan.
懐かし (natsukashi) pretty much sums up my feeling each time I return to Japan, but it is difficult to translate accurately. It is a combination of "dear, missed, nostalgic, yearned for", something akin to a mix of that. I only really feel it when I return! Lot's of memories flood back, and with nostalgia in any sense, those memories are self-filtered by our brains to leave all the lovely ones and to dial down some of the more traumatic!
My visit was solely to visit with my great friend Mark (to whom I'll refer by the internet private initials of MG from now on, along with his wife KC and mother-in-law MC)who I haven't connected with for any length of time for some years. Armed with directions and prior knowledge from my last visit I easily negotiated the monolithic Hakata railway station on Friday to pre-book some unreserved seats for the following morning. I was glad I did as the queue snaked out the door in the morning making it highly doubtful that I would have made my desired train.
The rail journey on the limited express is a treat in and of itself. The beautifully appointed train flashes through serene fields and beside tranquil ocean, occasionally bursting through mountains via tunnels and cuttings. Disembarking in Nagasaki main, I boarded the first of many(during my visit) quaint, rumbling trams for a short ride to the riverside suburb of Suwa-machi and The Class. I caught up with MG and KC just as they finished their late morning class and I dumped my gear to join them for a quick lunch downtown (curry rice...yum!) before they resumed their program for the afternoon. Funny thing with great friends: the years just melted away in an instant and we fell back into our usual (and fairly ribald!) vernacular as easily as slipping on a comfortable pair of slippers. I was tasked with a vague mission of searching out wines from various locations if I chose to accept it, then bade them a temporary farewell to undertake a personal adventure while they slaved away for the next five hours!
Wandering along "Temple Town" road, a tiny, slightly pedestrian unfriendly link which ties togteher at least a dozen significant temples all in a line, was a real treat. As MG says, "and this is my backyard!" with real pride and wonder each time, I wandered past Choshiji, Kotaiji and Daionji in a short stroll down to the main thorouhfare nearby. Crossing it, I realised I'd stumbled upon just one of those magical little pockets of pubs, "snacks" and bars that are so profligate in any Japanese town or city: one of those little dens attracting the whiskey slurping "salarymen" after another hard slog at work and whereupon they may choose to drink at a few establishments, do a little bar-hopping and traipse home at any old time they like. As it was, in the afternoon, I just saw the telltale tiny neon signs chequerboarding up the sides of buildngs indicating up to 20 spots in one building alone, but all quiet for now.
I found the first liquor store and bought the requested Chianti from a rather bemused salesman: who was this Japanese speaking foreigner in his shop claiming to know MG and KC and wielding their discount card?! Trekking ever onward to the harbour, I wandered past Dejima Old Vlillage but demurred on a return visit as it was still relatively fresh in my mind. I did, however pay a return visit to the gleaming glass and steel architectural wonder that is the Nagasaki Art Gallery. Straddling a canal on reclaimed land, this beautiful building exudes calm and class and houses still, much to my delight, some world class art treasures. I wandered the building and emerged much later quite satiated with their boutique collection of, among others, Picasso, Miro and Dali. I got a cute animated book as a gift for "The Class" then wandered across to the seaside park.
The seaside park was full of teenage girls giggling and twitterpated in small groups all donned in impeccable school uniforms, while teenage boys flaunting their individuality by "customizing" their uniforms played rounds of impromptu baseball. The harbour itself was teeming with commercial and tourist traffic, huge cruise liners sharing the waters with fishing boats, tugs and other working ships. Booming horns sounded, hawks trilled and swooped and generally the area was exciting and delightful. Dejima Wharf's double story commercial area overlooking the water tempted me with various little bars, restaurants and coffee shops before I settled in with a humongous beer to while away the rest of the afternoon, watching, sipping and enjoying.
Arriving back with my three bottles (others sourced before I returned) I was just in time to accompany my hosts to our booked local restaurant, "Pei". The little hideaway had a long narrow bar serving area as is the pattern in many small Japanese eateries and the food was stellar. MG and KC and I caught up with all and sundry concerned with our last shared place of employ and we started also to re-share some of our great stories of the past till we were engulfed in fits of laughter many times over. In fact, this was the theme for the weekend: lots of conversation and lots of laughter! Later that evening after we'd just sampled some of our red wine, I suggested to MG that we go out to do some bar-hopping of our own. We ducked into a few likely looking places but after butchering a few karaoke songs each, we retired to a pool and darts hall to drink yet more draft Kirin beer and discuss all the problems of the world. I think we solved a lot of them, as we didn't get home till the wee hours!
MG cooked up some delicious breakfast treats drifting into the afternoon. Admittedly we got back late, but I've never experienced such an elaborate and sustained show of whimsical cooking! Well played MG! After our brunch, we decided to attack the Temple Town hill for a mild trek. It was awesome to wander in "the backyard" and witness all these centuries old treasures. Temple entrances of aged wood and impossibly thick banded rope, vermilion gates stacked like dominoes waiting to fall right down the hillside and dotted with statues and curios along the way...wow! We hiked past kite shops and curious pavilions housing taiko drummers as well as open areas ringed by mature cherry trees: alas, barely budding...looks like I arrived a couple of weeks early! Our calves and knees were shrieking as we made our way down the other side, a sprawling graveyard dispelling any fear of a landslide despite the steep slope: that mass of concrete aint goin' anywhere!
That night my hosts took me to a local and excellent yakitoriya and once again, "natsukashi" came to mind. It was superb and once again we had a chance to chat about all manner of things as we enjoyed the food and drink. Back home for more red wine and we decided to watch our old favorite, "The Big Lebowski" on DVD...howling good fun. I'm not sure if MG knows every line, but he's getting pretty close!
KC's Japanese breakfast salmon with miso and rice stole the show the next morning! MG reckons that will be his execution eve meal...let's hope he doesn't have to test the theory! MG and I decided to have a wander round the environs before once again boarding a streetcar bound for the famous Mt. Inasa and its equally famous ropeway. Again, owing to the long journey and subsequent walk to the cablecar, we had a chance to talk about all sorts and crack a few jokes as well! The cute ropeway commentary told us that the night-view up top was voted one of the best three in the world and despite the fact we were there in daylight, I could easily see why. As the car took its five minute journey up the mountain, it was possible to get a better understanding of the topography of the city. Ringed by mountains and with the harbour as its centrepiece, it's an extremely pretty vista and it also became obvious why it was chosen as an attractive spot to drop the bomb to achieve maximum devastation.
Up top, it is a beautiful experience to gaze upon a city that was for all intents and purposes, totally obliterated just 70 years ago, yet has regenerated physically and emotionally to be such a vibrant, prosperous and forward thinking presence today. The city is also totally surrounded by water, a sense that can only be gained from this spot.
So what should we do when we've got "Big Lebowski" fever? Why, go bowling of course! "Lucky Strike" was the destination on the other side of town. Despite MG's great love for throwing a few rocks, he hadn't graced this place with his superior slidin' style. After my rudimentary yet powerful attempts were sprayed wide and wild, MG fell into his groove and hammered home a few good scores. We had a ripper of a time and MG declared he should find himself a league to join on a weekday night.
My final dinner had been pre-arranged by KC and MC and MC had picked out a special Nagasaki restaurant for the occasion. Once again, easily within strolling distance (a fact I realised was another wonderful benefit of the site of the school and home: being "downtown" everything seemed to be in walking distance), the outside of the space hinted at what was to be found inside. A classy and decadent outdoor space complimented the spare and stylish slatted wooden beams that coated the exterior, the name of the restaurant subtly etched on top. We were seated along the bar/ bench and were served a succession of the most sublime dishes, noteworthy not just for their taste and individuality, but also for their slick presentation. Sashimi sliced as thinly as a morsel of shaved prosciutto, translucent and succulent. Prawns and potatoes presented in a unique fashion, beef that melted in the mouth and a fish so amazingly cooked that the entire thing could be consumed: the bones and head and tail all could be crunched and savored without causing the slightest distress. What an amazing array of special foods: MC even picked up the bill with the proviso that I invite her out for a meal next time I'm in town!
It was sad to say goodbye to my hosts: their home is beautiful and my accommodation first class and their company made me remember what great friendship is all about. I was relaxed and happy and we had more than our share of great laughs. After yet another special breakfast from MG (his languid style truncated by my strict train deadline!), I taxied off to catch the return train to Fukuoka before flying out to Taipei. It's funny how just a few short days away can discombobulate your equilibrium: Nagasaki and Japan in general have the power to do just that...and it's not a bad thing at all!
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