Viñales, the town

Posted on February 14, 2017 by Ginger

We spent some time in the colorful town of Viñales as well as in the surrounding countryside. In declaring the Viñales valley to be of “Outstanding Universal Value,” UNESCO had this to say about the town:

The village of Viñales, strung out along its main street, has retained its original layout and many interesting examples of colonial architecture, mostly one-storey wooden houses with porches.

And indeed, it is exactly as UNESCO described it–but they forgot to mention the vivid colors!

The people, too, are colorful and interesting.

The revolution, too, is still present in this part of Cuba–from a picture of the much-loved Che, to a touching sign: “I Am Cuba.”

Viñales–the countryside

Posted on February 10, 2017 by Ginger

When I was arranging our tour to Cuba, the potential participants in our group were, generally, not very interested in Viñales. The area is famous for its tobacco plantations, home of the best tobacco for Cuba’s best cigars, which (everyone knows, or pretends to know) are the finest in the world. But my friends and relatives and I, we are a nonsmoking group of people, and it was hard to get up much enthusiasm for a tour of the tobacco world, when the vacation was short, and there was Havana with its great food and wonderful music, and of course, Cuba’s beaches.

But a bit of research revealed that the Viñales valley is also on the UNESCO World Heritage List. It is a landscape of sublime loveliness–an agricultural valley surrended by dramatic dome-like karst hills (mountains?) that is quite unique and worth visiting, if only for its physical beauty.

This is what it looks like, approaching the town from the east.

We stopped for lunch at a working farm with great (fresh, local) food, where we could look out over the valley and walk in the garden.

For the first time in my life, I saw pineapples growing. I always imagined them growing right next to the ground, like a kohlrabi or a fennel bulb; other people I’ve talked with thought they grew on trees. Neither of these is true. They grow on stems, like artichokes. Here is one:

The agricultural part of the valley is peaceful. In the hot afternoon, a couple of farmers (well, I *assumed* they were farmers!) headed home for a rest–or a meal–or a friendly drink of rum or coffee, or a good cigar.

Speaking of cigars, after lunch it was time for a short trip through the dazzling countryside, followed by a tour of an organic tobacco plantation and cigar manufacturing.

Everyone was invited to try a cigar–and we all did! The gentleman above rolls the cigars shut using honey for glue, and we all agreed that his cigars were smooth and sweet.

It was a great experience, but we were not converted from our non-tobacco ways, and most of us (except you-know-who-you-are) easily resisted the temptation to buy any.

Moving on, we reached a stunning overlook of the valley late in the afternoon.

In the next post, I’ll show a bit of the town of Viñales.

Asakusa — the temple area

Posted on October 31, 2016 by Ginger

We didn’t discover the interesting area around the temple until the second time we went there, and had more time to wander.

There were, to begin with, several statues of Buddha (or perhaps of Bodhisattvas).

A short digression is perhaps in order here. Dan and I are illiterate in Japanese, and we have gained a whole new–and sympathetic–understanding of the dilemmas that must face functionally illiterate people in our own country. We were certainly able to get around fine in Japan. Most public transportation have signs in English as well as Japanese; and people were also wonderfully friendly and willing to help. We also understood where we were and what we were seeing, at least in broad terms. But the details on explanatory signs (and most menus!) were too much for us. So I present here the beauty, or cuteness, of what we saw–and the Japanese are very, very good at both beauty and cuteness–but no details. Just as we experienced it.

And now on to the Buddhas. Or Bodhisattvas.

Finally, my favorite. I actually don’t know who this little guy is, or anything about him. I just know: you gotta love him!

There was a small but lovely landscaped area, with a stream running through it.

The stream had myriads of red-and-white fish in it.

And the fish were hungry.

There were also numerous other objects of mystery.

One small shrine I do know about (because they were kind enough to post its story in English as well as Japanese). Once upon a time, it seems, in the early eighteenth century, a housewife, digging in her garden, discovered buried there a jar full of gold coins. She worried that she and her husband would rely too heavily on those coins and become lazy and lose what they had. So she buried the coins again, and with this mindset, she and her husband worked hard and became very wealthy. They placed a statue of the Bodhisattva Jizo on the spot where they buried the coins. Today, this shrine is built over those coins.

It contains the statue of the Bodhisattva (and several other statues of him, too). People come here to pray for success in their business enterprises.

Hard at work in Shirakawago

Posted on October 9, 2016 by Ginger

A person can’t visit Shirakawa-go for long without wondering what’s involved in maintaining those steep, thickly thatched roofs. The answer is: teamwork! Many hands make light work; the job takes only a few days when everyone pitches in. Here are two photographs, one much older than the other, of roof replacement on two of the largest houses.

We were fortunate to see work being done on another roof, on a much smaller scale, while we were there.

One man is gathering the straw into bundles; a second is raking the loose straw together and also handing the bundles up to the men working on the roof. The men on the roof are alternately feeling the roof thatch to make sure it is tight and solid, stuffing straw into the roof wherever they can to make it tighter, and shaving the edges of the newly stuffed straw into a neat line.

The other work in progress, it being mid-September, was the rice harvest. Rice, it turns out, is growing in many fields, large and small, throughout the village. It is surprisingly beautiful.

Scarecrows!

In a larger field, we saw one farmer using a hand-operated harvesting machine. In others, people harvested entirely by hand.

The sheaves are protected from the rain in their beautiful rows.

Historic Shirakawago

Posted on October 8, 2016 by Ginger

Shirakawa-go is a small farming village located high in the mountains southeast of Kanazawa. It’s a UNESCO World Heritage site, with its traditional houses still intact and lived in.

The architectural style of steeply pitched roofs with their dense, thick layers of thatching, is known as gassho-zukuri (“prayer-hands construction”), and it’s effective in the winter, when the snowfall can be heavy.

Nothing much in this village has changed–except for the occasional car or truck, and a scattering of buildings with more modern roofs–and the busloads of tourists that arrive every day.

Signs are posted everywhere not to smoke. You can imagine the devastation a small spark might cause!

Though most of the houses are private, a few of the larger houses, as well as the monastery associated with the local shrine, allow entry. Some of the houses are quite large–to our amazement, five stories high under those steep roofs! There is room for a large extended family and for indoor industries, such as silk-worm cultivation. The interiors of the shrine and the houses are fascinating.

Oh . . . have I mentioned the village was full of tourists? There was a steady stream of us through the few open houses. We came to see the architecture, and we were glad we did. But even more interesting was the work being done by the residents of this living village. I’ll show some of that in the next post.

Unazuki Onsen

Posted on October 6, 2016 by Ginger

Before continuing with our next lesson in Japanese meals, I should take a moment to explain our travel. For we left Tokyo the next morning and traveled by the famous Japanese bullet train to Kurobe. Here, we were met by a car and driver sent by our hotel and whisked up into the mountains, a half-hour 20-kilometer scenic drive, to Unazuki Onsen. The Japanese word onsen means a hot spring, and indeed, steaming hot water flowed through the town.

The first thing we did was to check into our hotel, the Ryokan Enraku. A ryokan is the Japanese version of an inn, perhaps, or a B&B. This was our first of seven nights in a row in three different ryokans. They are traditional hostelries in an austere and timeless Japanese style–tatami mats on the floor, where shoes are not allowed. Slippers and robes to change into for comfort, and which are acceptable wear throughout the building. Not much furniture–just two chairs with no legs to sit on, and a low table to sit at while using such low chairs. Later, a comfortable futon on the floor for sleeping. A very personal welcome, with refreshments after your journey. Here we are, relaxing in our new digs.

Unlike the other ryokans we stayed in, this one had a balcony, and the balcony had a view of the mountain and a rushing river below. And . . . the balcony had Western-style furniture!

We had half-board at this ryokan, but before dinner we wanted to enjoy an actual Japanese onsen bath. The ryokan had, um, several of them (depending on how you count, somewhere between four and six). Occupying the first, second, and third floors, the baths are segregated by sex. There is an indoor bath for each sex on the second floor, and baths open to the outdoors on the first and third floors. Tonight, men are on the first floor and women on the third. In the morning, it will be reversed. It being early afternoon, we each have our respective baths to ourselves. We try to follow proper bath protocol but are grateful there’s no one watching in case we get something wrong. Let’s see: Undress and leave belongings in a locker. Shower before entering the bath, sitting on the little stool. Dump a bucket of water over your head to wash any dust or dirt off your hair. Rinse. Now, enter the bath. You may keep the small towel on top of your head, but leave the large towel behind. Wow, it’s HOT! But after a few seconds, amazingly good. Soak for as long as you want or can, then shower again. Use the large towel to dry off; then dress, and ooze back to your room.

Here’s a picture of an open-air onsen, possibly one of the first-floor onsens in our hotel. (It’s not mine; I didn’t take my camera there.)

Thoroughly clean and relaxed, we set out to see the town. The town wasn’t very big, so this didn’t take long. Here’s the friendly map posted at the small local train station.

The town was nestled in the mountains, and pretty.

A gushing, naturally hot fountain in the main square lifted steam into the cool air.

Fed by the natural hot springs, foot baths were everywhere! The first one, by a restaurant, took us by surprise, but the English in the sign is self explanatory.

Some of them were beautifully designed and well integrated with modern buildings.

But now it’s time for dinner, and even in a small town in the Japanese countryside, we find an elegance to match that in Tokyo, but without the big-city pretentiousness. Here is our menu:

This is not very helpful, and, like the previous night, for the most part, the appearance of the food does not give enough of a clue as to what it actually is. It is, however, very pretty, and beautifully presented.

At last we come to a course we can understand! And it’s as delicious as it looks!

The main problem with this dinner, like the previous night, is that we get very full very quickly, and there seems no polite way *not* to eat what’s in front of us. I regret, days afterwards, having to leave half of those crab legs.

The futon on the floor is very cozy and comfortable, but in the morning we are still full.

And it’s time for the Japanese breakfast! Here’s what’s waiting for us in the morning.

And this is the way it looks when additional food is brought in.

Folks, it’s at about this point that we realize we are not going to make it through the next two days of ryokan half-board we have signed up for in our next location. But what can we do!

Japanese food

Posted on October 4, 2016 by Ginger

Typically, when Dan or I first speak to someone who knows (or finds out) that we’ve just returned from Japan, their first question is:

“Did you love it?”

This is an easy question to answer:

“Yes!”

Surprisingly, the almost universal second question is:

“What did you think of the food?”

The answer to this question is much more complicated. First, from a visual design perspective alone, the food is stunningly beautiful. Beautifully made, beautifully arranged, and beautifully presented.

From a taste perspective, the food is not always as accessible. Much of this, I’m sure, is cultural. The Japanese eat many more kinds of things than Americans do. See, for example, the menu pages below, which were photographed in a restaurant window, notable in part because the names of the offered items were in some cases written in English, and in other cases diagrammed quite clearly.

I, for one, am not much interested in trying grilled tuna larynx or simmered tuna head. This doesn’t mean that they’re not good; it just means that we Americans have a cultural bias away from some of the things that the Japanese have learned to savor. Also, the Japanese appreciate subtleties of taste and texture to which we Americans have largely been unexposed. In other words, when it comes to Japanese food, we Americans have a decidedly uneducated palate. This is no doubt why the question about Japanese food invariably comes up so early in the conversation.

Dan and I had hoped that a trip to Japan might educate our palates as we were exposed to the real thing. Disappointingly, this didn’t quite happen.

On our fourth night in Tokyo, for example, we made a reservation at an elegant Japanese restaurant near our hotel for a kaiseki dinner. This is a formal dinner of many courses made of seasonally fresh ingredients prepared and served in the most time-honored and elegant Japanese tradition. Some care is taken to ensure that the menu is acceptable to the diners, and so, for example, the restaurant made sure that our dinner did not include the meat of any mammals, which Dan and I do not eat. We are shown to a private room, furnished in the Japanese manner with a low table and two chairs. Here is the menu of that dinner:

It looks like a wonderful culinary adventure! Not everything is clear, examining the menu–I mean, for example, “Narrowing morphism boiled conger of chrysanthemum turnip”–but we’re game to try! Here is what the table looks like when we sit down to eat.

Our lovely and gracious waitress removed the tops of the pottery dishes to reveal:

It’s not really clear what all of this is, exactly, but it’s certainly lovely. And we can determine, for example, that the green things are vegetables, almost certainly peppers, and that the light-colored squarish things are almost certainly fish. We’re not sure about the rest of it, but I especially like the <whatever it is> that looks like a turning-color autumn maple leaf. Anyhow, not being able to identify our food by sight turns out not to matter because almost none of it tastes or has the texture we expected from looking at it. Some of it is quite tasty. Some of it is decidedly, er, chewy.

We eat it all, and our waitress, who speaks very little English (but in all fairness more than my Japanese), comes in to reveal the next course by removing the lids of the boxes in front of us.

This is very beautiful, but it’s about at this point that we entirely give up trying to map our meal to our menu or to identify any of it by sight. We set aside the things that don’t appear to be food, and we eat the rest of it. Some of it, we enjoy. Some of it, we are seriously wondering what it is, because we don’t want to mistakenly order it again anytime in the future.

It’s about now that Dan discovers the following mysterious object on our table:

We are beginning to feel a lot like the apes in the beginning of “2001: A Space Odyssey” scratching their heads in wonder as they examine the mysterious black monolith. When our waitress comes in next, we ask her about it. It turns out to be a call button for her. But, alas, the help we need with this dinner goes way beyond what her English can handle. On to the next course and the next!

We eat everything that we can and much more than we should. We are glad for the experience but a little bit uneasy about the dinner we will have the following night. We’ve ordered half-board at the ryokan (inn) where we will be staying, but we can’t believe we’ll ever be hungry again.

To be continued . . .

The Bridges of Tokyo

Posted on September 24, 2016 by Ginger

We rode the water bus from the Asakusa district of Tokyo down the Sumida River to the Hama Rikyu garden. In the process, we passed under maybe thirteen bridges, all different colors and styles. I found the texture of the bridges against the backdrop of Tokyo’s buildings as pleasing as the scenery.

But first, here’s the view from Asakusa terminal, first, looking directly across the river, and then looking down the river, where the boat will soon go.

Now, here we go down the river!

After this, we docked at the lovely Hama Rikyu garden, but that will be the subject of another post!

In the Ginza

Posted on September 22, 2016 by Ginger

Tokyo subways are wonderrful. We took them everywhere. With few exceptions <cough, cough, Shibuya>, the signs are clear, the stations well marked, and even which exits lead where are clearly indicated. And it’s always surprising, when you leave the station at a new destination, what it’s going to look like. It could be the rather daunting so-called “pedestrian scramble” at Shibuya, for example.

Or it could be the sophisticaed shopping district of Ginza.

On the main street of Ginza, name brands and high-end developers can afford to build eye-catching buildings.

In the narrower side streets, interesting shops, must make their presence known with banners and vertical signs.

inside one shop, we found this intriguing glass ceiling.

But what’s inside another store must wait for another post!

How to Touch Statues

Posted on September 18, 2016 by Ginger

Our neighborhood in Kyoto, Higashiyama, is full of shrines, large and small, as well as a few notable temples. A shrine by the side of the street where we were walking contained this toddler-sized and friendly-looking statue, along with an explanatory sign.

Now, perhaps it never crossed your mind to touch this statue. You wouldn’t be alone! But if you did feel that gentle stirring in your heart, you may wish to reach out to this likable statue, and if so, you may think you know everything you need to know about how to touch him. But you might be surprised to learn that there’s more to it. Fortunately, it has all been explained for you. Here’s how:

G. S. Kenney Author

Thousands of words, millions of words' worth of pictures

Tag Archives: Travel

Viñales, the town

Viñales–the countryside

Asakusa — the temple area

Hard at work in Shirakawago

Historic Shirakawago

Unazuki Onsen

Japanese food

The Bridges of Tokyo

In the Ginza

How to Touch Statues

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