Luckily, pessimists are rarely disappointed.

The town

The old town of Shibu Onsen, down the hill from where we stayed, was like walking through a movie set. Craig, the kiwi guy working (for many years) at the ryokan – Biyu no Yada – dropped us off at the end of the old town in front of a temple at around 9pm with a map to get back. It was a few degrees above zero and there didn’t seem to be anyone around. “Slide the doors open and have a look in,” he told us as we jumped out into the van at the temple. “Just make sure you close the doors after to keep the cats out.”

The area was eerily quiet. All covered in snow, our walk through the town was accompanied by the constant sound of rushing water as melting snow, hot springs and the river all combined. Steam rose up from the ground giving the cobblestone street a hazy yellow look. We snuck about the grounds talking in whispers, finding our way to a path glowing under the lantern light eventually stumbling into the main street of bath houses with a sense of awe and excitement.

The town isn’t far off from being a movie set, as we’d discover the next morning. On the way to the snow monkey park Craig stopped on one side of the bridge to explain it was the inspiration for the bridge in the classic anime film Spirited Away. He then told us to hold our breath as he ZOOMED to the other side of the bridge, heading straight for a brick wall as we crossed to the “other world”. (watch the bridge scene)

The other film influence from the town is the Kanaguya onsen, also portrayed in Spirited Away. The 3 or 4 storey wooden building towers over everything near it, bending and creaking in interesting ways that modern architecture just can’t. The street had other peculiarities too. There was a natural hot spring pouring water onto a bowl of eggs which we saw a man stop to buy (Japan’s version of the late night kebab?), and a shop front with pellet guns facing rows and rows of toy figurines to shoot down.

As we wandered down the road we’d spot the occasional Japanese couple dressed in yutaka leaving a hot bath. It’s really the perfect weekend away; spend the whole time in a dressing gown, hang out in various hot springs and be fed multiple courses for dinner and breakfast.

And that’s the other thing we did.

The accommodation

Biyu no Yada was a great place to stay because, not only did it have a local Kiwi to translate for us, but it was also less traditional that most onsens. We had a traditional room with tatami and futons, a kaiseki dinner and natural hot springs. We could wander about without feeling like rude westerners, even though we were probably the only westerners in the hotel.

We were brave enough to try the private rooftop onsen even though it was only 4 degrees outside. The bath was so hot that we only lasted about 20 minutes before needing to cool down. Being on the rooftop of a 7 storey building on the top of a hill made for an amazing view too.

Later that night I tried the segregated onsens in the basement – indoor and outdoor. A few older Japanese women were already bathing so I made sure to have an extra good scrub before heading in, then, subtly watching them as they got out so I’d know the next set of protocols to follow. Once out, there’s an area with sinks decked out with moisturisers and other products to complete your spa experience. I’d highly recommend a visit to a bathhouse, and I’d love to go back to an onsen town near a ski-field. Kinda wish I’d made it to Sydney’s Korean Bath House before it closed some years back.

The food

Dinner was amazing. Craig recommended the local brew of Shiga Kogen Pale Ale which was a lot like Little Creatures Pale Ale, one of my favourite beers. Our table was set with most of the food, most astounding being the stump with mushrooms growing from it. Through sign language and demonstration we were told to pull the mushrooms off the stump and cook them on our personal mini grill.

There was raw thinly sliced pork for us to cook in a pot of water over a flame, and slabs of beef which tasted amazing after we cooked them over another flame in butter, onions and capsicum. But that’s not all. Plum wine, sushi, pickles, miso, rice, udon and dipping sauces were all laid out in front of us. Spoilt for choice, I spent as much time deciding which bit to taste as I did eating them.

Finally, the snow monkeys

The snow monkey park is a 5 minute drive and 30-40 minute walk away. We donned some gumboots from the ryokan but were surprised to find it quite an easy stroll through beautiful snowy forest, except for an initial hill and a final set of steps. There were tall pine trees, perfectly built stone walls, a windy path and finally the valley with steam pouring out of various crevices. The area is named Jigokudani Park, which means “Hell’s Valley”.

There were SO many monkeys and they were so cute. Once we spotted one across the valley we’d slowly start to notice movement all over. After paying our 500 yen entrance fee we got through to where the monkeys lazed about in the hot springs, played on ropes, picked fleas off each other and generally engaged in cute monkey behaviour.

Best to leave it to the pictures I think.

Lastly

On the drive to the monkey park Craig gave us some history of the town and stopped to say hello to some local friends on the streets only just as wide as the van. There was the sake factory and the sake man. The beer brewery and the brewing man, as well an owner of a ryokan down the road. He pointed out a ryokan where Princess Masako stopped for coffee (under tight security) on her way to going skiing, and another house which was once home to samurais. It all added up to really feeling like we were in town and a country with many centuries of tradition and one where being born with a particular family name partially controls your future.

We spent the first two days meandering around without too much of a plan. It’s not my usual style, so by day three – our final day – I had a long list of things to do and not enough time. Here’s my summary of the most interesting bits bits.

EATING

Omen was mentioned in the Kyoto Time Out as a good noodle place near the beginning of The Philosopher’s Walk. We chose it for its convenience rather than it’s write-up, but it deserved more attention. The Philosopher’s Walk was pleasant and quaint, but turning back halfway to go to Omen was a good decision. I imagine The Philosopher’s Walk is at it’s best in cherry blossom season but then you have all those darn tourists to put up with.

But back to Omen. It’s a small and refined space with well-priced food and polite service. The standard shoes off at the door and then sitting on the floor applied. The English menus made it easy enough to work out what we wanted, and then after an explanation from the waitress our amazing udon experience began. Various pickles and vegetables were artfully lined up on a tray. From there it was a matter of mixing your own with the noodles and the soup broth in two separate bowls. It was simple and delicious and we got a hot and cold version so we could try a bit of each.

Kanga-an was the other significant dining experience. I’d have to say that the experience was more enjoyable than the food, given I prefer meat over Buddhist meat. The restaurant is set in a temple once lived in by the Emperor and his family. It’s hiding in the middle of a few suburban blocks, but once at the entrance there’s no mistaking it. A traditional gate is followed by a stunning garden which is artfully lit-up at night time. As we wandered into the garden we were greeted by the man who would then serve us for most of the evening (a monk?). There were 14 courses, the most visually appealing being the first course which was served on a rock garden, complete with real flowers. There were delicate vegetable broths, spikey soy balls hidden in leaves as
well as the usual things like tempura. The service was very friendly and not overly formal but we were still left asking each other questions in hushed tones after they delivered food to our private dining room.

Other tasty bits we stumbled upon….

Having a Japanese pancake at Issen Yoshoku on the edge of Gion is recommended in all the guidebooks. We stumbled there after arriving late at night from a delayed flight. It has a giant menu with one item in it, so it was definitely an easy introduction to Japan. One giant pancake, please ma’am! It was covered with Worcestershire sauce and shallots so it was a pretty full-on experience. The just cooked egg hiding in the centre was the highlight.

I was delighted to find a French patisserie only a few blocks from where we stayed. Le Petit Mec, on Imadegawa Street just west of the Imadegawa-Omiya Street intersection, had croissants and brioche which tasted as they should. It was in a beautiful little shop where all sorts of sweet and savoury things were piled high. There were mini rolls with salmon and brie, as well as a few more uniquely Japanese items. My brioche au chocolate turned out to have dried apricot in it, but I was cool with that.

Stumbled into a place called Senmonten which basically did gyoza and not much more. One guy making them at one end of the counter, us eating them at the other, old man behind the til and young girl pulling the beers and serving us. The vibe was somehow more American bar from the ’60s than anything Japanese. A pile of change later and we walked back to the hotel with a warm glow of gyoza.

Nature Donuts on the main street was not quite the hot and soft donut experience we’d hoped for, but if dry cake with flavourings is your thing then go for it.

The Nishiki market is worth a wander through if only to look and taste the amazing array of pickles. There’s all sorts of fresh food there, some which is good for eating on the spot. I tried some “jumbo” takayaki (octopus) balls but they were too jumbo for my liking; still gooey on the inside.

Lastly, vending machines! They count as food, right? I’m pleased to report they sell both hot AND cold Royal Tea. It’ll be my new addiction when returning to work in Sydney’s Chinatown, and a cheaper one than my current Cha Time addiction.

Oh and the strawberries have been great too. We saw a pack of three giant strawberries being sold for 1500 yen (almost $20) in Nishiki Market. I always thought the smaller ones tasted better so luckily they’re cheap and plentiful in the supermarkets.

SHOPPING

Is it just me, or do shops in a foreign country look exotic and amazing on first look and then boring the second? I had big plans to buy lots of “tasteful” souvenirs (is there such a thing?), but after seeing the same shops a couple of times I couldn’t see the point in any of it. I wanted to, I swear.

Anyway, if in Kyoto I recommend you check out Kyoto Design House for design souvenirs and accessories, Graniph for t-shirts and hoodies (although I now know there’s one in Sydney), a couple of vintage clothing stores in the same building as record store art rock 1 (anyone for some ’60s Gaultier?) and Muji for the food.

SIGHTSEEING

We made it to Ginkaku-ji first. It’s known as the silver pavilion even though it never became silver…. all good intentions but no outcome so have your imagination ready kids. Nonetheless, it was beautiful, and in a scenic spot at the bottom of the mountains and with lovely landscaping.

Kinkaku-ji is the golden pavilion, a 30 minute bus ride west of the silver pavilion. It was much busier, but that didn’t detract from how stunning the gold looked as it reflected on the pond in the afternoon sun. Despite the afternoon sun, we were freezing so we whizzed around the site before huddling together back at the bus stop.

The last temple we officially visited was Kiyomizu-dera and if ever there was a super temple, this was it. It was spectacularly perched halfway up a mountain, with views over Kyoto and the temple is amazing in its construction – massive timber poles and no nails – yet the hordes of crowds somehow detracted from the experience. Give me a quiet temple in the city and I’ll be happy….. good thing we did actually stumble across many quiet temples. Of course, for Japanese tourists sites like this one have a different significance so perhaps we shouldn’t have been crowding them.

GETTING AROUND THE CITY

Cycling was definitely the best way to get around the city. The style of cycling is more like being a pedestrian on wheels than being a slow moving car. Here’s a list of places where you can hire bikes. There is also Community Cycle which is easy, cheap and was only a few blocks north of our hotel Mitsui Garden, Sanjo.

Other than that, getting a one day bus pass for 500 yen and a bus map is enough to get you to the various temples. The subway is also easy to use and on both forms of transport you’ll no doubt have helpful people coming over to check that you’re ok.

We probably walked 2kms without seeing anything of note (except the tourist info booth which we found once and then had to backtrack to find again because it had moved). We could’ve handled pedestrian-unfriendly streets, but these streets were more like freeways of the most pedestrian-unfriendly variety. We’d be walking along a road from the station following the map to our next destination when suddently we’d find ourselves needing to cross a freeway exit. Sure, that’s not so hard, but after crossing the exit we realised the footpath was no more – we were standing on the edge of a few flyovers with our destination glimmering at us in the distance. We could cross one freeway without too much hassle, but multiple flyovers would take a real MacGyver and some mountain-climbing gear. So we backtracked again. And again and again.

We were getting so frustrated that upon finding a station we thought we’d just catch a train to the next point in the walking tour. Luckily enough some locals took pity on us and gave us an introduction to being a pedestrian in KL. Turns out we just needed to go through tunnels, up stairs, over freeways and occasionally underground in unmarked pedestrian tunnels. It’s all about tunnels, but it’d help if there were some friendly signs.

The highlight of the walking tour was definitely the National Mosque where we dressed in full robes and headscarfs and spoke about Islam to a very friendly and helpful woman. The building’s architecture is amazing and beautiful.

The low point of the walking tour would be where the two rivers meet. OK, maybe our hope of grand rushing rivers powerfully converging in the middle of a busy city was never going to be accurate, but this looked nothing more than two sewerage ducts meeting without fanfare or even a riverside cafe.

And somewhat vicious according to the people at Semengoh Wildlife Rehabilitation Centre. When an Orang Utan with a baby came out from hiding we were warned to stay out of her way because she has attacked people before, including people who have worked there. So we admired from a distance and watched her climbing a tree, picking fruit and feeding it to the baby and generally causing havoc.

After watching this pair for a while word spread that there were another pair in the trees further down the path so it was nice to see some tumbling through the trees. And no, none of them were called Clyde. Funnily enough, the baby tumbling through the trees was named Sadam because he was born on the day Sadam was captured in Iraq.

We’d split a cab to Semengoh with a Dutch guy from the lodge. We may have been falling asleep on the trip there, but the trip back went in a flash as we talked excitedly about the Orang Utans to the driver. It was just like being 8 again.

Anyway, it was hot and sooo painfully touristy that it was almost amusing. I won’t go into detail but most of it made us cringe despite their best intentions. We stayed for the ‘cultural show’ at the end which is how we discovered most of the ‘traditional people’ we met in the houses were actually performing artists who then danced the dance of whatever culture was required.

To end a fine afternoon at the cultural village there’s nothing like a bit of audience participation. Here we were enjoying the air-conditioning and a comfortable seat and Mr ‘I-have-feathers-and-a-silly-costume’ thought I should join him on stage. What do you say to a man wearing that attire and is also able to puncture balloons with spears from a great distance? I did my thing and speared a dangerous balloon before it attacked me. Holly laughed a lot (and too probably too many photos but at least no video) and then we got to leave via the ‘cultural staircase’. More on that later in the web gallery.

Damai has two Holiday Inn resorts so we were expecting the area to be a bit touristy and possibly over the top. We stayed at a beautiful place called the Permai Rainforest Resort in a tree-top house in the rainforest overlooking the beach. And yes, it was as good as it sounds. We thought there would have to be something wrong with the place and that could be the food (there was no town we could get to so we were forced to eat at the resort), but no, the food was great too. Fresh juice, whole coconuts, exciting Asian soup and all from a cafe in the rainforest overlooking the beach.

We got up early to do a short trail in hope of seeing monkeys. OK, so once again we didn’t see any monkeys but we knew they were there…. big ones. We heard some crashing through the trees so we stayed very still waited for probably half an hour for them to reveal themselves. No such luck but we did see some pretty ferocious looking ants.

The tide at the beach had gone way out so the Asian tourists had even longer to laugh at our swim-wear as we walked out to the shallow water. They mostly liked swimming in jeans and t-shirts so even the most modest swimwear was going to make them roll-around laughing. Catching waves the evening before when the tide was high also made them laugh. What else is one supposed to do when at the beach?

The jungle pool was certainly refreshing after being in the hot water of the ocean. We couldn’t stay at the beach too long so retreated to the jungle pool where cool water collected in a man-made pool at the base of a waterfall.

Getting to Bako was half the fun. We boarded a local bus in the city (running the customary 30 minutes late) and took it to Bako Bazaar where we then had to get on a boat. The boat was like an 8 seater canoe with an outboard motor on it. The river was calm and narrow so we thought it funny that they insisted we wear life-jackets. Halfway into the trip we all frantically secured the lifejackets to our bodies the best we could seeing most of the zippers were broken – suddenly the river had become the ocean and while the driver was most skilled in zig-zagging through the waves, it was still a bumpy ride. A fun ride. We decided that people pay good money for these sorts of adventures on Sydney Harbour. The water was beautifully warm and then the beach came into view. We jumped into the knee deep water with our luggage on our backs and made our way to the shore.

Little monkeys – (long-tailed macaques) – were all around the beach area trying to steal things from tourists. We tried to scare one away from a tourist’s bag that was left unguarded but the monkey came running after us instead. The Sarawak Museum had a stuffed version with very sharp little teeth so, assumming this one did too, we backed away.

There were giant lizards, bearded pigs, birds, squirrels and butterflies, but the proboscis monkey remained elusive. We spent hours in the mangroves in the morning waiting quietly for them to appear but they didn’t. Must’ve been the rain keeping them away.

On the first day (and it felt like a long day) we trekked to the beach along a track called Telok Pandan Kecil. Who would’ve thought that walking to the beach could be so difficult? OK, so it was really hot, really humid so we should’ve known better. The first park of the trek was an almost vertical climb through beautiful jungle and then the top of the mountain cleared and it looked just like an Australian beach landscape….. flat, reddish rocks and bush like scrub (I’m sure Holly, my environmentally aware companion, could give a more accurate description and possibly even botanical names). There were wet sandy trails to negotiate before we got a spectacular view over Pandan Besar. We continued onto Pandan Kecil for a swim and it was the first time we’d be cool in days…. sadly it didn’t last long. We had the entire beach to ourselves and so stayed for as long as we thought we could before the tide would cut off our track back to civilisation.

Civilisation? Hardly. So you’ve made it this far into the entry and I still haven’t mentioned the food or accommodation.

I’ll keep it brief because it’s nothing to write home about. Mouldy accommodation with a semi-manual toilet. Think that’s bad? You should’ve seen the ‘cafe’. The western food consisted of kinda frozen chips, chicken nuggets and hamburger patties (they were in the buffet so I’m really not sure if they were going to get cooked at all… yes, that troubles me too), and there were ‘local’ choices but my travel doctor always told me not to eat chicken that had been sitting at a warmish temperature for possibly days. Oh and if you didn’t eat it at lunch it’d still be there at dinner time… at least that’s what it looked like! The image of those brownish hard-boiled eggs with flies over them will stay with me for some time. Ugh. I’m glad we had some soya crisps with us.

The scariest part of the Bako trip was the last morning when it was pouring with rain for hours. We were scared of having to stay another night in the smelly accommodation and having to ration the few remaining soya crisps. We asked if we could get a boat if it was still raining and were told ‘Some say yes, some say no. I say no. I’ll book you a boat for 12pm!’ What? Luckily it cleared up by 12 and we were soon back at Bako Bazaar stocking up on a kilo of bananas for 30 cents.

So why does Kuching now make sense? We found a supermarket. Asian supermarkets rock. We realised that eating at the authentic looking local places are not the way to go. We’re just back from a pretty good meal at a boring western looking place. Sure, we’d never heard of the cheap Australian wine we had with our Malaysian food, but the food was more interesting that most of the roadside stuff we’ve had so far.

Posts on Bako and Damai to come. Do tune in for both because they’re sure to be hilarious. Firstly because Bako was like being in the army (I imagine), and secondly because Damai and its “cultural village” involved audience participation. That always makes me cringe.

Oh and no, the Proboscis monkey hid from us this morning but tomorrow we shall definitely see Orang Utans.

In one long day we feel we’ve covered the entire city but more on that later. For now Bako National Park calls. Tomorrow night we’ll be staying in a treehouse in Damai National Park.

It’s quite nice to be in a clean city, and it is a beautiful city where they disguise their flyover freeways with vines and lush tropical gardens. By the end of the day it was starting to get on our nerves and look like a socialist regime though. People would mop around our feet and enter bathrooms after us to clean up. Most disturbing were the educational signs explaining the importance of everything from washing and drying your hands rather than shaking them dry on the bathroom floor, to not throwing yourself onto the MRT tracks.

Singapore certainly isn’t a city that gets up early. We landed at 4am and were in the city by the waterfront at 7am. Walking the pristine and empty streets around City Hall admiring the obscure mix of architecture was appreciated later in the day when we went back there to find it bustling with people.

Holly and I certainly accomplished a lot in a short time. Little India in the morning, followed by Sim Lim Square, then onto Chinatown and finally a look through Raffles. Finding some markets not far from Sim Lim Square was just what we needed in the morning. I was able to tick two of my favourite things off my list – eating mangosteens and drinking strong coffee with lots of sweetened condensed milk. We ate and drank in a mall as we watched people rubbing a giant gold buddha in front of a shop. There were some beautiful temples in that area as well (photos to come).

Sim Lim Square was really cool. I love a good electronics store and this was eight floors of them at bargain prices. Interestingly enough I was strong and didn’t rush in to buy anything. I’ll save that for JB at the end of the trip.

Chinatown is where the monsoon season emerged for the day. We hid for cover in a hawker food centre and had a great lunch for a couple of dollars. Tough. We then found a very funky store selling all sorts of clothes and bags and homewares mostly from local designers. Of course I managed to find a little something to add to my extensive ‘things-bought-while-travelling’ wardrobe.

What is missing from this post is that at almost every destination we spoke to at least one person who realised we were tourists and wanted to help out in some way. It’s almost like they’re competing to be good citizens! No, it’s lovely to feel welcome and get some insider tips on what to do and where to go.

We ended our 12 hours in Singapore thinking that Singapore is the Asian city you go to when you don’t want to go to an Asian city. The culture and great food is there, but what’s missing is the crazy driving, the lack of organisation, and above all, leaving things to chance – that’s when the most interesting things happen.

Oh and lastly, the funniest thing was the washing sticks they hang out of their huge apartment blocks – kinda like a flagpole, but suspended diagonally out from the building looking very precarious. Photos of that will certainly be on the gallery soon!