The end

The good thing about staying in an airport hotel is that it feels as if the holiday is over, making it easy to leave.  The gaudy light display in the grounds and the earth tremour as we were packing reinforced the message. Happy Australia Day.

Guest post by Tony - the elegance of sumo

Brother Mark and I have settled into a daily ritual of watching a major sumo tournament (known as a Basho) on TV at around 5pm most days.  Every January the Basho is held in Tokyo, which is perfectly timed for our January skiing trips. It is also a wonderful way to start the recovery process from either skiing or exploring the sites. Of course, the viewing is enhanced by sampling a wide range of Japanese beers, which we highly recommend (especially Asahi and Kirin).  
At first glance sumo can appear an odd sport to follow, however we have realised that it is a highly elegant martial art full of balance, poise and nuance developed over centuries of tradition.  The elegance is also shown in how each competitor takes advantage of subtle changes in their opponent's stance, centre of gravity, failing stamina and/or will.  It is even shown in the contempt for opponents, such as aggressive salt throwing, thigh slapping and back arching.
It is unpredictable who will win.  A  simple step to the side can make all the difference between victory and loss.  
We have embraced sumo and we encourage you all to do the same. Sumo embodies much of what we love about Japan and its people.

Same same but different

I've only seen a few glimpses of the Kyoto I remember: the river bank where Michelle & I spent a memorable night in the midst of a crowded party celebrating cherry blossom season, with the pink blooms luminous above us in the moonlight; a familiar temple; Shakey's Pizza. Many of the iconic sites we have visited on this trip are new to me, leading to Imo's question, What did you do here for 6 months? The answer is that I lived and worked here, spent hours in Pub Africa, and largley ignored the touristy areas. We scavenged gomi (hard rubbish) items, including bicycles, and at local festivals ate the Japanese version of a sausage in bread - barbecued eel on a stick. I also learnt Japanese, studying each night and practising each day, and could get myself around pretty well in the local lingo. While my Japanese vocabulary is now limited, every word and phrase I can scrape up has been useful. The taxi drivers have certainly appreciated my attempts at conversation, with two giving me small presents. When I first came to Kyoto 25 years ago after 6 weeks deep in the Japanese countryside working as a golf caddy, I was amazed at the amount of English around - on menus, street signs and train stations. This time around, I'm amazed that the amount of English does not seem to have increased at all, despite its popularity with foreign tourists. Way to go, Kyoto.

Kyoto revisited

The advantage of visiting iconic Kyoto sites in Winter is the lack of crowds. When Tony and I went to the Ryoanji zen rock garden 25 years ago, we had to wait in a queue for a small space on the smooth wooden verandah to gaze at the 14 (or 15, for the enlightened ones) rocks and raked gravel. This time we virtually had the place to ourselves, and I can confirm that the rocks have not changed in the last quarter century.  We revisited Kinkakuji, the golden temple, and I was overwhelmed when I glanced it through the trees - it is a stunning sight. It was a greyish mid-winter day, but Kinkakuji makes it own light. We also visited a temple in the mountains, with a beautiful ancient garden and bamboo path (photos below).

Board & lodging

We've met up with friends here, and yesterday the teens swapped their skis for snow boards. Totally different skills are needed to stay upright, but everyone could by the afternoon. Tony, Imo & I were back on skis for the last time today, and thanks to clear weather traversed the mountain and the next one over, riding between the two on the Dragondola (it really is called that). The view was spectacular, and a few furry animals could be seen from above - we decided they were snow monkeys.

We are staying in a family run boutique hotel, a fusion of Japanese and western styles. The owner, Kinta-San, speaks English and is an excellent cook and host. Breakfast consists of a yummy savoury dish (omelette, risotto) and delicious home-baked bread and pasties, plus the best black tea I've had on this trip. This is a very good thing, as lunch options are limited. The ski fields are dominated by a huge hotel complex called the Prince, which is like a cruise ship in the snow. It contains many cafes and restaurants, but all are overpriced and underwhelming. 

We ate in last night, a four course feast with wine, and ended the evening in a conversation pit (I think they were called in the 70s) in front of a pot-bellied stove. 

Ichi, ni, san, shi . . .

The runs are wide and the snow firm on Mt Naeba, making it easy to dodge the groups of school kids in matching gear tentatively snaking their way down. The sun tried to shine through the clouds in the morning, but by lunchtime had given up and the mountain was blanketed in fog and steadily increasing snow. Imo created a bit of excitement by dropping a ski off the chair lift after lunch. While the kind lift guys invited her to wait in their shelter (with the aid of google translate), Tony and I skied down to find it. We were about to plunge into waist deep powder near pole 9, where we mistakenly believed the ski to be, when a couple on the lift above worked out what we were looking for and called out "go ban". I then knew to look near pole 5, so those Japanese lessons have paid off! Ski and owner were soon reunited. 

Travel

We needed 2 trains and a bus to get to Mt Naeba. It felt like 'real Japan', as there was very little English around and few concessions to westerners. We drank hot coffee out of a can and ate bento boxes for lunch. Arrived at Mt Naeba on schedule - it's a strange place, built around the ski fields, not traditional. Our accomodation is cosy with a view of the ski slopes. It does not need a fridge, as drinks and ice cream can be put in the snow on the balcony (see photo below). At 5 flood lights came on, and people kept skiing. Even colder and snowier than Myoko, which I wouldn't have thought possible!

White out

How do you say it's pouring snow? Because that is what it has been doing all day. An insane dump, as they say around here. We had planned a day trip to Nagano, to avoid the weekend crowds on the mountain. Busloads of local snowboarders started arriving yesterday, and were entertaining viewing while riding the lifts. There was one particularly steep drop that was fun to watch - the snowboarders went over one by one like lemmings, most ending up in a spectacular tumble. Each body would lay motionless, implanted in the snow exactly as it fell for a few seconds, then pull itself up, usually laughing uproariously.
Nagano looked very pretty in the falling snow. It is known for its soba (buckwheat noodles), my favourite Japanese food, so lunch was a treat. The main attraction of the town is Zenkoji, an ancient Buddist temple. A stone path, lined with shops and lodgings catering for pilgrims, leads from the centre of town to the temple, passing under a couple of huge wooden gates on the way. We braved the place for enlightenment - a dark underground tunnel beneath the main room. The English instruction sheet said to put all your belongings in the left hand and to keep the right hand on the wall to feel the way. It implored in capitals to NEVER LOSE THE RIGHT HAND.  I didn't need to be told twice. My right hand was practically glued to the wll as I descended into the darkness. At first I was reassured by the faint glow of Imo's light blue jacket about a metre in front of me, but that soon faded completely into the pitch black. The aim was to find by touch a metal key, and clang it against the wall to be assured of a passage to heaven. After a couple of minutes in the tunnel, I just wanted a passage back up to daylight. I'm happy to report that we are all going to heaven, and none of us lost our right hand. A trully spooky experience.

Scene from Nagano; Myoko train station this morning

Ups and downs

Downhill skiing is a strange 'sport'. A mechanical lift of some sort takes you up the mountain, and then gravity takes you down. There does not seem to be a lot of exercise as such involved - although at the end of the day muscles in obscure places ache. You need large amounts of gear to keep warm and moving, which then hinders movement as soon as you step off the slopes. It is usually either exhilarating or terrifying (depending on gradient), and always cold. Luckily the scenery is stunning. The white snowscape is such a contrast to the city streetscape of home, and engenders a sense of peace and otherworldliness. Very zen.

Blue sky day

Another day of perfect weather - apparently it is rare here but it's all we've had so far. A full day's skiing has left me shattered. Hopefully a soak in the onsen and a Strong Zero will revive me, but for now I'll have to let photos tell the story.  P.S we found the bakery!

Ski legs

We awoke to a clear, calm day - perfect for regaining ski legs and getting to know the mountain. There are lots of easy & intermediate runs to chose from, all virtually empty, and no lift queues. We spent some time unsuccessfully looking for a (possibly mythical) bakery on the slopes we had been told about, lured by the thought of coffee and cake - only to find at the end of the day it was (allegedly) a place we had considered and dismissed.  Our caffeine levels were restored at the only place in town with a proper coffee machine and freshly ground beans - Australian run of course!

View from our window this morning; view from mountain, brothers Walter:

Let it snow

It snowed a metre in Myoko Kogen today, while we we snoozing on the snow shuttle bus after an overnight flight into Tokyo. It is a public holiday today, celebrating 20 year olds as that is the age of majority here. We have a cosy traditional Japanese room, and Enjoyed pre-dinner drinks in it tonight, in keeping with Japanese tradition. The Japanese kindly cater to people who may be looking for maximum alcohol content in a can, with large print - no glasses needed.  Strange we all feel wrecked, and we haven't even hit the slopes yet!

Re-revisited again

Re-visiting Japan was so good we're doing it again, in a new improved version, and I'm reviving this blog by popular demand (thanks, both of you).
The holiday preparations have left me needing a hoilday, so I'm very happy to have made it to the airport lounge, champagne cocktail in hand.
Even happier that Jas has made it safely to Paris, to commence her semester sojourn at La Sorbonne university. We farewelled her at Tullamarine on Friday night while the terrorists were still at large, and are relieved the situation is resolved for now, but remain aghast at the loss of life and attack on free speech. Je suis Charlie.