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Sayonara Japan

Our final breakfast in Japan is at the soba and udon house our local train station. I have a set of zaru cold soba and Japanese curry with rice. The soba is delicious soaked with the cold tsuyu sweet dipping sauce. The curry is potent with curry sauce and typically sweet. Our server is a cross little Japanese woman reminiscent of Seinfeld's Soup Nazi. In a fortnight filled with smiling nodding always-willing-to-please hospitality workers, it's almost endearing to have a moody woman who jabs at the correct place we should've placed our dirty noodle bowls, and who points aggressively at the waste paper bin where I'm supposed to deposit our used tissues.

We cheer ourselves up with the thought of what lies ahead: a visit to Pierre Herme to worship at his temple of macarons. We make our way to the Seibu department at Shibuya and almost tremor with excitement when we are greeted by the gleaming glass cabinets beholding cream-sandwiched yoyos in a palate of pastels. One of each we decide, and feast on them later on the shinkansen to the airport. We have rose, pistachio, chocolate, citron, vanilla, arabesque (apricot with apricot flowers) and caramel fleur de sel.

The citron is the absolute winner. "It's like a chewy lemon tart" gasps Veruca. They are all exquisite with perfectly crisp shells, moist chewy interiors and decadent fillings sandwiched within.

Some last minute shopping, including a stop at Yodobashi Camera (the shop at Shinjuku is made up of seven buildings!) before we hop on a shinkansen to Osaka and another train to Kansai airport.

Sayonara Nihon. The trip was oishii desu ne.

Tsukiji fish markets, sushi and a Wendy's burger

Our last full day in Japan.

We make the essential pilgrimage to Tsukiji Fish Markets for a wander through row upon row of fishmongers selling all types of fresh seafood. We see giant oysters, sacs of salmon roe, live eels, barrels of wriggling baby eel-looking creatures, assorted sea snails and plenty more. We're too late to catch any of the tuna auctions, but we see quite a few frozen logs of tuna being hacked into, sawed apart, and shaved off by strong men who are bemused by our cameras and constant ogling. We spot chunks of dark red whale meat, kelp flecked with herring roe, enormous scallops and huge tentacles of octopus.

It's a wonder that anyone can find a specific fish monger. There must be a thousand different stalls here, each with its own little cashier hut staffed by women, their heads barely peeking above the little glass windows. There are lots of puddles and the occasional splash from fishmongers transporting fish from one tub to another, but the biggest danger is being run over by the cavalcade of motorised carts, braying insistently throughout the place and driven with a hell-bent intent of a Sydney taxi driver.

We have a late breakfast at Sushizanmai, the same sushi place I ate at last time I was here. The chu toro medium fatty tuna is exquisite, marbled with delicate lines of sweet succulent fat. I have a battleship kobashira bay scallop or round clam, and well as nigiri of zuwai goni snow crab (so delicate and sweet), awabi abalone (a little chewy but delicious nonetheless) and hotato giant Ezo scallop. The scallop is my favourite. It's a huge thick cushion of satiny plumpness.

For maki hand rolls I feast on himo kyu ark shell with cucumber and ikura salmon roe. Both are tasty, the rice is soft and sticky, the seaweed is crisp and the salmon roe and addictive bursts of briny goodness.

We have our own sushi chef who makes all our requests to order, obtaining pre-cut sheets of seaweed nori from his personal red metal tin. As each customer enters, there's a rising chorus of irrashaimase's, welcoming smiles and twinkling eyes that make you feel you're part of one big all-day party.

We notice one chef washing his hands and suddenly everyone in the kitchen is industriously washing their hands. A scheduled hand washing by all staff we suspect?

We expore the surrounding markets (I pick up some bags of bitter melon chips that I know my Mum will laugh at but love) then hop on the subway to Ueno. There's a meander around one of my favourite stores Gap (when will Australia get its first branch?!?) where I pick up a gorgeous leather slouch handbag for 9900 yen (reduced from 29,000 yen!) and we pop into the Chou Factory for a custard puff comparison (very buttery flaky shell and no vanilla bean in the custard. Verdict: not as good as Beard Papa).

Back to Harajuku and another crepe, this time from Marion Crepes located directly opposite Angels Heart. I have the cream cheese version, expecting something like the rare cheese crepe eaten in Osaka. In fact it really is cream cheese, unsweetened, and a little tart and salty for someone expecting a creamy sweet cheese spread. They're more expensive than Angels Heart too and stingier with the filling :(

We head down the designer shopping strip in Ometosando to Oriental Bazaar, a great place to pick up tourist souvenirs, yukata, t-shirts, Japanese dolls and trinkets. I have a late snack of a Wendy's cheeseburger on my way back and am impressed with the generous patty of meat and freshness of salad. There's perhaps a little bit too much mayonnaise but I can understand why Wendy's burgers are often held with such high regard.

It's a big night of packing suitcases so we get takeout for dinner, another interesting insight into the excesses of Japanese packaging. Our local Ringer Hut provides a cardboard base for the plastic bag and plenty of styrofoam packaging for my fried noodles, vegetable stir fry and gyoza dumplings. It's delicious though and ready in less than three minutes.

Burgers, cosplay, yakiniku and Japanese Elvis'

My favourite day so far.

We headed straight to Harajuku in the morning and were starving for breakfast by 11.00am. With clamours for a burger fix by Veruca and Bellboy we were tossing up between Lotteria and McDonald's. McDonald's didn't have anything much excitingly Japanese on the menu - only a Tamago Double Mac which was actually just a fried egg. Lotteria won.

An Asian version of McDonald's, Lotteria opened its first shop in Tokyo, Japan in 1972. It now has chains across South Korea, Taiwan, China and Vietnam. I had the straight burger set meal with fries (choose from large size with salt, medium size with dipping sauce or small size with a salad) and a drink (I leapt on the ginger beer option).

I'm not a huge fast food fan, but there was a small element of long-forgotten satisfaction sinking one's teeth into a burger and munching down crispy fries. The burger was a little on the sweet side and the fries were rather salty (I had mine with honey mustard) but I was very impressed with their recycling campaign, a concerted effort for which they're particularly renowned. The refuse area is split into different compartments with labels in Japanese and English. All ice and liquids are poured down one chute, all plastics (straw wrappers and drink lids) go into one bin, all paper products go into another.

Then down the hill into the throbbing masses of Takeshita Dori, the famous street of Harajuku packed with clothing stores, handbags, crazy fashions, pampered pet outfits and crepes.

Crepes are the must-have accessory along here. We joined the never-ending queue at the popular Angels Heart and feasted on thin crisp crepes filled with fruit, sauce and cream and rolled into a cone. The candy pink wrappers bring a smile to any girl's face and crowds of teenagers and tourists hover around the staircase in the shade polishing them off with a grin. I had the cheesecake with strawberries and cream version: a wedge of cheesecake, a few chopped strawberries and oodles and oodles of pure white mock cream. It was enormous but the mock cream did defeat me and I ended up flicking some of it out with a spoon (shudder).

We made the mandatory wander to the bridge near Yoyogi Park to check out the cosplay teenagers. Every weekend youths gather here in outlandish costumes that attract a papparazzi of gawking tourists. It's a strange scene that sees a motley of dressed-up Little Bo Peeps, goths and anime characters alternate between huddling conspiratorially in corners, cowering under black lacy umbrellas and, when beckoned, shyly posing for the hordes of camera-wielding tourists. It's a disconcerting atmosphere that swings between intrusive voyeurism and moments of fleeting acceptance and admiration.

From there we follow the crowds to Yoyogi Park and this is when I really get to see Tokyo-ites let their hair down. We are greeted at the entrance by a group of Japanese Elvis' who are rocking to a blaring rockabilly soundtrack straight from the 1950s. There are leather pants, leather jackets, Levi jeans, huge gelled-up hairstyles and a giant 40cm long comb sticking out of one guy's back pocket. It's not until the Jive Bunny remix comes on that everyone comes alive and the men (and one woman) take turns to strut their bestest dance moves.

Yoyogi Park is an oasis of green filled with rose beds, water fountains, shady trees and endless lawns of grass. It's a gorgeous day today with the bluest skies I've seen so far and the delicious feel of golden sunshine warming our cheeks. There are hundreds of people picnicking on rugs, gathering with friends, throwing balls and playing frisbee.

There's plenty of entertainment too as all types of interest groups gather. We walk past skateboarders and bikers doing tricks on the boulevarde, a troupe of practising tae kwan do artists, a corner of impromptu salsa dancers, Japanese drum specialists, a class of ukele players, and a joyous throng of African-style drummers and flamboyant dancers.

Down one side the tree-lined park is a series of rock bands, all set up within six feet of each other and playing their hearts out to the passing crowd. There are about a dozen in total, varying from hard rock to boy-band rap to a swing set that includes two trumpet players, a saxophonist and back-up dancers. All are selling copies of their albums, although none seem to be touting for busking money. We even receive a free sample CD from one rock group. Their love of music is apparent, and their unbridled enthusiasm is infectious and heartwarming. It's such a fantastic balance to so much of the inhibition implicit in Japanese culture and I could have quite happily spent all afternoon soaking up the sun, the sounds and the sights of Tokyo at play.

Instead we head across the road wondering the huge white tents are. It's a We Love Jamaica festival, complete with reggae band on a huge public stage, second-hand markets and more Jamaican flags, beanies and dreadlocks than you could ever think possible. There's plenty of love in the air and although there are a couple of beans and rice food stalls, it's clear that most of the crowds assembled here still prefer feasting on yakisoba and takoyaki, as they spread out on red, blue and white plastic mats.

There's time for a long shop through the famous Daisu 100 yen shop at Harajuku (four floors of products that span from cosmetics to homewares to foods and kitchenware) then Speedster and I meet up again with Veruca and Bellboy at the sentimental's favourite Hachiko statue at Shibuya.

Hachiko was a dog who would meet his professor owner at Shibuya station every day after work. One day the professor had a heart attack at work and never came home. Legend has it that for the next ten years, Hachiko would go the station every day to wait for him. He has a statue now in tribute, now a hugely popular meeting spot and photo opp for tourists and schoolkids as well.

Shibuya is probably the quintessential encapsulation of neon-lit crowd infested Tokyo. Three enormous screens showing music videoclips and ads dominate the towering buildings that look down on the world's busiest pedestrian crossing. All traffic stops for the hordes of people that weave their way across the convergence of streets and zebra crossings. It's a scene that makes you want to stop and soak in all the bright lights and chaos that is Tokyo.

We have dinner at a yakiniku restaurant that does all-you-can-eat for only 2,079 yen. The quality and variety is unbelievable. A chiller is filled with plates of thinly sliced beef and pork, tongue, liver, chicken and prawns. There are platters of karaage fried chicken, crispy hot chips, steaming hot dumplings, a pot of simmering onden vegetables and tureens of miso soup. There's a shredded chicken salad, wakame seaweed, crisp fresh lettuce and bowls of boiled edamame soy beans. For flame grilled vegetables there are slices of pumpkins, strips of capsicum, wedges of eggplant, onions and more.

We fire up the grill and eat our fill until we really can eat no more. Then we head onto dessert, a treasure trove of sweets that include green jelly cubes set with jackfruit, an almond jelly and tinned fruit salad, coffee jelly topped with cream, little sponge balls decorate with chocolate and sprinkles, slices of banana covered in chocolate sauce and wedges of ruby grapefruit, pineapple and honeydew melon. There's an ice crusher for DIY shaved ice with a rainbow of syrups. In the corner is a freezer filled with mini tubs of ice cream in vanilla, chocolate, strawberry and green tea matcha flavours.

There's a 90-minute time limit but we're well and truly done within 75. Nature calls not long after and we end the night with a surreal scene on the first floor of the nearest McDonald's. Filled with clouds of cigarette smoke, it's like a convention of hairdressers and make-up artists. Everyone in there has highlights of honey gold, the faces have deep orange tans and there's more make-up on each person than an entire Mardi Gras parade. Everyone has an A4-sized mirror in front of them (boys included) and they're all preening and plucking and primping and posing whilst gossiping with fag in hand and not a care in the world.

It's only as we exit that we realise the second floor was non-smoking (with toilets too). But I'm glad we ventured onto the first floor - even if our lungs did emerge the worser for it.

Sanja Matsuri, Kitchen Town and Beard Papa

A light breakfast of gyudon beef-on-rice at the Sukiya chain near our hotel. A small bowl only costs me 270 yen, rounded out with a bowl of miso soup for 70 yen. The service is supremely fast. Your order is tapped into an electronic device and served to you literally within 30 seconds. We watched keenly as the man in the kitchen scooped a fellow customer's bowl of rice, then ladled on the sweet and saucy beef and onion topping from a simmering pot. Fast food. And tasty.

The Sukiya menu is littered with proud proclaimations of "100% Aussie beef", sole suppliers since the ban on American imports in 2003 because of mad cow disease. It's a little taste of home anyway :)

We head to Asakusa for the Sanja Matsuri, one of the three big festivals of Tokyo. Over three days in May, hundreds of mikoshi portable shrines are paraded through the area. We arrive at Asakusa Shrine (also known as Kannon-do) along with hundreds of other spectators. The walkway to the shrine, known as Nakamise-dori, is lined with a jostle of stalls selling all types of rice crackers, bean cakes, biscuits, handbags, geta wooden clogs and tourist trinkets. It's packed shoulder to shoulder today with festival-goers.

Through the huddled masses there's a stir as the sound of drums, cymbals and chanting wafts towards us. The crowd surges for a better view as a portable shrine appears and makes its way through. The men and women are wearing cotton outfits emblazoned with Japanese characters. Lots of men are wearing short shorts (and I mean short shorts) and they stamp past us, heaving the shiny golden shrine up and down on their shoulders as they chant in unison. It's quite hypnotic.

It soon becomes apparent that there are hundreds of shrines being milled throughout the area. Some are bigger than others. Some are carried by women. Smaller versions are hoisted by children. There are wheeled carts seating three people that are pushed through the crowds. Traffic police are on hand to hold ropes taut that act as crowd cordons. One shrine I see has a young boy standing on the wooden supports, bending his knees up and down for balance.

The grounds are filled with the usual assortment of food stalls. Okonimiyaki, takoyaki, yakisoba, salted river fish and baked potatoes. Desserts include chocolate covered bananas, fruits dipped in toffee and shaved ice drinks. The most unusual thing I spot are cucumber kebabs, small continental cucumbers jammed onto skewers and eaten whole, like some kind of refreshing diet icy pole. I really am noticing that there's so little junkfood in Japan; most sweet treats are fruit based, and modest in size.

We head to Kappabashi dori next, the Kitchen Town of Tokyo. This street runs for about four blocks and either side are shops selling all types of commercial food tools and restaurant products. There are plenty of takoyaki makers, knives, cookie cutters, cash registers, waitress notebooks, plastic food models and more. My favourite shop along here specialises in cellophane bags and twist ties, perfect for packaging home baked treats. I'd seen this shop last time without purchasing anything, and been kicking myself ever since. I don't make the same mistake again, and pick up 100 tall bags with gold twist ties for only 620 yen.

Next stop: Ameyoko in Ueno, a cluster of streets beneath the clatter of railway lines that are packed with an assortment of stalls selling food and clothing. This had been one of my favourite haunts on my last trip, filled with plenty of things to see, taste and photograph. Seafood alley is always chaotic, and the stall holders here are famous for their loud and energetic spruiking.

The fruit stalls littered throughout the area are always popular. Wedges of pineapple, rockmelon and honeydew are stabbed with skewers and sold for 100 or 200 yen. We having a standing feast of pineapple, so sweet and juicy, and I lament that in Australia we never think to do something similar: fresh fruit on a stick served cheap.

I also have a mini okonomiyaki-style pancake. Batter is poured into circular molds and layered with cabbage, pickles and seaweed. An egg is broken on top, cooked, then the whole thing is flipped over and served with brown sauce and a squiggle of mayonnaise. There's also a bbq rice cake to be had, a block of mochi grilled on both sides until golden and blistered, then wrapped in a square of seasoned seaweed nori, a chewy starchy snack.

We pick up some custard puffs and cannoli from Beard Papa in Ueno. Both are ridiculously cheap compared to Sydney - only 128 yen each. The custard puffs are crisp and crunchy with soft silky vanilla-bean flecked custard within. The cannoli are more like puff pastry than traditional Italian style.

There's a wander through Tobu, the huge department store at Ikebukero. This place boasts 10 floors plus two basement levels of food. There's plenty of yelling and carrying on as the stall holders try to clear their stock at the end of the night.

Dinner is a simple affair: an instant noodle bowl (still craving soupy stuff with the cold slowly clearing) pepped with an assortment of fixings from the local cooked food store - a place that sells pre-cooked obento-type meals, karaage chicken, deep-fried battered prawns and a whole fridge full of salads, tofu and seaweeds. Meals can be cooked to order and all serve-yourself stuff is sold by weight. The place is open 24 hours. Food here is so cheap and freely available. It makes the whole idea of Japanese kitchens seemingly obsolete!

Back in action

The human body is capable of many things. An allergic reaction is like feeling your body go into extreme overdrive.

A trip to Nikko for the grand spring festival had been planned today. I ended up spending much of the day in bed instead. The moral of the story: always pack your own flu medication. I had meant to get some from the airport when I left. I had a day (and night) of torture instead.

By dinner I was well enough to venture out again. I know I'm not well when even the mention of food fails to raise the adrenalin.

We ended up at Ringer Hut, a bizarre little chain with a menu that included Champon Noodles, a massive bowl fit for a sumo wrestler. I had a small bowl of noodle soup with gyoza instead. The gyoza were sticky treats, pan-fried to a delicious crisp on the bottom.

We were happily shopping in the Ikebukero 100 yen shop and Shop 99 (yep, most of the fruit, veggies and groceries are 99 yen) when we realised it was past midnight and made a frantic dash for the train station. On the platform we spotted a bizarre incident where a man and a woman were both squatting, he bowing profusely, head almost touching the ground. She was sobbing quietly, her boyfriend standing nearby. It appeared the man had been tipsy/drunk and may have 'accidently' propositioned her. The genuine remorse on his face amidst the seriousness of the situation was something you would never think you'd spot in Sydney on a Friday night.

The platforms were packed and the train pulled up packed like a can of sardines, people's backs squashed up against the doors. People spilled out like frozen peas. We added ourselves to the can and headed home.

The beginning of the end

In a country where blowing your nose is considered rude and unhygienic, Japan must be the worst place to catch a cold.

I woke up today with a cold.

Sore throat, the beginning of the sniffles and a head ache that wouldn't go away. Ger-rrrrrreat.

Breakfast was had at a noodle bar around the corner. A plain wakame soba for me, tempura soba for Veruca and Speedster. If there's one consolation about Japan, it's the abundance of cleansing comfort food available - plenty of soup and noodles is just what the doctor ordered.

Speedster and I visited Osaka Castle, not as large or majestic as Himeji Castle, but perhaps more elegant with its decadent gold trim roof. We had to battle hundreds of tourists and plenty of school kids, but everyone was well-behaved and the 8th floor viewing platform afforded a great vista of the city.

Back on the shinkansen to Tokyo and today's obento box was a decadent 1300 yen selection that included an abundance of goodies: eel, octopus, fish, broad bean, pumpkin and tamago that had a stamp on it!

In Komagome, Tokyo, we headed to an izakaya for dinner but by this point the smell of oil started to get to me and I politely excluded myself. I heard that their food was fantastic. Freshly fried chicken, a whole squid and somen noodles were eaten whilst sipping on beer chilling quietly in the iced water filled trough in front of you. We even spotted the Australian Two Dogs brand. Meanwhile I threw caution to the wind and headed to the pharmacy in search of medicine.

Then I had an allergic reaction. Then I broke out in hives. Then it felt like the beginning of the end...

Horumon soba, Hello Kitty and lots of yaki

Sometimes you find the tastiest treats when you least expect them. A poky little noodle underneath a railway station. A man smiling inside. Lots of Japanese and a huge pot of simmering broth that certainly smells delicious.

And so we tried our first bowl of horumon soba. "It looks a little like corned beef" said Veruca, then took her first mouthful. Soft squidgy bits of brown and mouthfuls of pure fat greeted us at 9.30am. "What is this?" we asked the quiet chef. "Cow" he said, and rubbed his stomach area. We think it was lungs and maybe a few squeezes of artery fat. The fat was faaatttty. I ate one and shuddered. I could not do any more.

The broth was tasty though, and it certainly felt good for you (apart from the fat). Veruca was still a little traumatised. At least it was cheap at 310 yen per bowl. I think at that price, Veruca thought it was still far too high a price to pay.

It was a huge walking day today. We explored Kuromon Ichiba, the fruit, vegetable and seafood market. We spotted plenty of puffer fish (live and ready-sashimi-ed), live turtles and whale bacon too. At Dotombori, also known as Kitchen Alley, we revelled in the enormous collection of restaurant equipment including commercial stoves, takoyaki makers, lanterns, restaurant signs, noodle bar banners, aprons, pots, cookie cutters, turning slicers, mountains of crockery, plastic food models and more. I purchased a Hello Kitty waffle iron. I couldn't resist.

Lunch was at an upmarket chain plain called The. My rice bowl included salmon roe - full of briny goodness - and the sea urchin roe was super creamy and rich.

We walked down the covered arcade of shops along Shinsaibashi suji (the Hello Kitty shop never fails to amaze), saw the cool kids (hello fake tans, foils and mullets) at America-Mura and checked out the upmarket underground shopping mall at Crysta Nagahori.

An afternoon snack of takoyaki octopus balls- an extra crunchy variant methinks as there were definitely puffy bits that added to the texture. We added our own mayonnaise, brown sauce, seaweed flakes and bonito flakes, before sitting down on stools down the back and stabbing them hungrily with toothpicks.

Dinner at Ajinoya involved our longest wait - about thirty minutes - for okonomiyaki, the famous Japanese 'pancake' with cabbage. It was delicious and worth the wait though. Extra crispy, just the way I like it. And the place was popular too with a constant queue of people waiting to enter.

Dessert was a custard tart from the famous stand on Dotonbori. It was eggy and delicious :)

Himeji Castle and the running man

Our final breakfast in Takayama was the same as the day before - boiled egg, miso soup, salmon slice fried, pickles, vegetables, seaweed sheets and rice. We picked up a couple of local treats from the train station - mitarashi dango and goheimochi. Both are types of starchy rice mochi, shaped onto skewers or sticks, then roasted with different types of sauce.

We caught the Hida wide view train back to Nagoya, transferred to a shinkansen to Osaka, then checked our baggage in at Shin-Osaka. Back on the shinkansen to Himeji for my second visit to Himeji Castle, regarded as one of the most spectacular castles in Japan. Along the way was a decadent 1,000 yen obento box containing a number of treats, the most exciting being a sea snail (tasted more like a mussel and less like an escargot).

Himeji Castle was just as spectacular the second time around. Built in the early 17th century, the castle was registered as World Cultural Heritage in 1993, with most of the castle still in its original design. Nicknamed the White Heron Castle, it looks as though it contains five floors from the outside, but really contains six floors plus a basement. The 360 degree views from the top (reached by steep wooden stairs) were amazing too.

We had a chance to try some local strawberries which were deliciously sweet and juicy. I also splashed out on a apple for 98 yen. Oh the long forgotten joys of whole fruit!

More Kit Kat varieties found: Kit Kat Cocoa 61% and Kit Kat Orange Brandy. Both are soon to be eaten and discussed in detail :)

Back to Osaka and we headed to the bright shiny lights of Dotombori for dinner. It is here that Osaka really comes alive, althought construction view prevented the full splendour of the Bladerunner atmosphere. The Glica running man is always a welcome sight though.

We also found a teenage hangout near Namba station where kids were practising dance moves, popping, and group routines. It was pretty cool.

Dinner was a big bowl of char siu pork ramen from a Korean-inspired joint with DIY pickled garlic chives, kim chee and garlic. We took our shoes off to sit on the raised tatami mats, and dined off low tables.

Cycling in Takayama

After our leisurely stroll along the two morning markets of Takayama, we stopped in at a couple of sake breweries nestled amidst a street of old private houses. These old houses, made of beautiful dark stained timbers, were occasionally splashed with purple from the overhanging tendrils of pretty wisteria. The cold sake was definitely warming, and along the way we feasted on an endless supply of samples of rice crackers, soy candies, pickles, cured beef, bean cakes and more.

Lunch was an opportunity to try another regional dish, hida chuka, made with locally made ramen noodles. Fresh noodles were topped with a round slice of fatty pork, a slice of fishcake stamped with a hot pink swirl, pickled vegetables and some very slippery tiny brown mushrooms. The broth was clear and sweet. The noodles were slurped down with ease.

Takayama is a bit of a tourist town (the tourist to local ratio is extremely high compared to anywhere else we've been in Japan) and prices seem to reflect this. Our noodles were fairly cheap though - 580 yen.

On bikes we explored much of Takayama, a great way to get around the mostly flat town, even if we did stop each time a truck thundered past. We went looking for the pathway of cherry blossom trees, but the trees were now bare.

The most bizarre experience was spotting a huge building emblazoned with the words "Big Max" surrounded by an enormous mall-like car-park. Maybe it's a shopping centre! we called to each with excitement. We are always on the lookout for supermarkets and 100 yen shops. We parked the bikes and approached the doors, which slid open for an overwhelming onslaught of pachinko! The sound truly is incredible, like a stadium filled with pinball games short-circuiting in a frenzy. There's pinging, and clattering, and tinny voices yelling, and electronic music, and the air is thick with smoke, and you can't hear yourself think, and it seemed like the whole town of Takayama was sitting there in chairs, motionless, amidst the constant bouncing of pachinko balls.

Next door however, we did find the 100 yen shop. Woohoo! We felt much better after that.

A quick whirlwind tour followed of Matsumoto Heritage House, Hie Jinja shrine and more preserved traditional buildings in Sanmchi and Shimo-nino-machi. The air does smell sweeter here and the tree-lined avenues do impart a sense of calm.

Our dinner banquet included chicken teriyaki, marinated angelica spears, a crumble of yam mash, a sweet clear broth and a hotpot of beef sukiyaki and enoki mushrooms in a delicious stock.

Takayama Morning Markets

NB. Photos and edits in purple added 31/07/07

Hoba miso is the famed specialty for the Hida region. We padded our way downstairs to the aroma of this cooking downstairs at breakfast (served 7.30am-8.30am sharp).

Our feast of a breakfast included a boiled egg, pickles, toasted nori sheets, and a slice of cooked salmon (a little salty as though it had been preserved). The star of this meal was the burner as always. Resting on a metal sheet was our hoba miso, a thick paste mixed with mushrooms, scallions and vegetables, cooking on a magnolia leaf.



As the paste heated and sizzled, we stirred the mushrooms around with our chopsticks until it became a sweet and sticky mass perfect for eating with mouthfuls of plain white rice. The hoba has a sweet and spicy taste, with an umami undertone.

We visited the two morning markets: Miyagawa Market and Jinya Mae Market, both filled with local farmers and producers selling fruit, vegetables, rice crackers, hoba miso, pickles and plenty of souvenirs. There wasn't much fruit on sale but plenty of daikon, angelica spears, green onions and multi-coloured cobs of dried corn.


Mini geta wooden clogs


Traditional Takayama figurines


Fern shoots


Woven straw slippers


Hoba miso paste


Boiled sweets


Warabi fiddlehead fern shoots


Fresh strawberries


Figurine carvings


Coloured corn cobs


Pickled shoots


Paku ferns


Hello Kitty and Pokemon iced senbei rice crackers


The friendly man selling fresh Japanese marshmallows


Owara tamaten (they were very eggy and rich)


How owara tamaten is made


Dried chillies and lavendar


Dried fruits


Steamed buns


Paper penguin lanterns


Mitarashi dango (mochi rice dumplings grilled with a sweet soy syrup)


Japanese printed fabrics


Mochi rice dumplings


Tsukemono pickles


Japanese wild yams


Japanese hacky sacks / juggling balls

Filled with dried beans and made with fabric scraps, these have traditionally been practical but pretty toys for children.


All kinds of fabric, including Hello Kitty, Snoopy and Thomas the Tank Engine


Rickshaw