8 August. Matsuyama.
Rising
at 6.00am, we left the minshuku before 7.00 and took a tram/train
to the ferry port. We bought tickets (2500 Yen each way)
and waited for the 9.45 ferry. We went into a port
restaurant for a breakfast “set”. The waiter
inquired where we came from (the Japanese generally assume that
westerners are Americans and are surprised to find the English
abroad). At last, one of my hard-learnt Japanese phrases
would come in handy! “Igirisujin desu” I
announced. A look of incredulity flitted over the
waiter’s face. Could this be? A gaijin
speaking Japanese? In sign language this time, he asked for
confirmation. Stephen assured him in fluent Japanese that
the information I had imparted was in fact correct. Visibly
stunned at this display of unexpected Japanese linguistic
dexterity, the waiter retreated. He returned a few moments
later, bearing a small packet containing origami cranes on which
he had stuck the Japanese national flag and a Union Jack. He
presented them to Val, saying, “Welcome to Hiroshima!”.
We were very touched by his friendly gesture. Having
boarded the ferry, we caught up on some sleep in very comfortable
armchairs during the three-hour crossing over the Inland Sea to
Matsuyama (“Cedar Mountain”).
Disembarked,
we caught a bus from the modern terminal to our hotel near the
Railway Station. The Central Hotel is a
“business” hotel. The rooms are small, with a
western-style bed, a table and cupboard, a TV, and an en-suite
bathroom of tiny proportions. The bathroom contained a
western W.C., a washbasin and a deep bath/shower unit about 75cm
by 125cm. It was smaller than caravan bathrooms I have
used, but quite adequate for the purpose.
We
took a snack in the café attached to the hotel. This is
called the Ulaan-Bator, in honour of the several watercolours of
Mongolians in yurts that bedecked the walls.
We
then changed some travellers’ cheques in the bank round the
corner and hailed a taxi that took us to the ropeway leading up
to Matsuyama Castle. This turned out to be a ski-lift,
which took us singly up the steep hill. Walking from the
top station, we came in sight of the castle.
This
was the first Japanese castle I had seen. It is very large,
with enormous sloping defensive walls on which the buildings
stand. There are multiple gates to pass before reaching the
donjon, each enfiladed so that it would be extremely difficult to
breach the defences and guarded by substantial buildings. Before
the advent of air-power, I doubt that this castle could be
breached by military means. Neither artillery nor infantry
would find it easy to enter, even in colossal numbers. The
best bet would be to burn each successive layer of buildings
down, but this would be under massive cross-fire and would take a
great deal of time and loss of life to effect. Or of
course, you could besiege it and wait for the occupants to
starve. (Thus ends my military analysis of the military
architecture of Japan!)
We
removed our shoes to ascend the four floors of the donjon via
ladder-like staircases. There were stunning views over
Matsuyama City and the surrounding countryside. Leaving the
keep, we paused for a very welcome cold drink in the castle
courtyard before making our way back to the ropeway. We
returned to our hotel for a wash and brush up. Going out,
we found a little restaurant where I had tonkatsu. This
was a pork cutlet served with rice and the same brown sauce I had
experienced with the okonomiyaki the previous night. It was
excellent.
Leaving
the restaurant we took a taxi to the entrance to a shopping mall.
We passed its shops and kissaten. At the end, facing
us, was the Dogo Onsen, the oldest onsen in Japan.
Such
is its historicity and reputation, that the Emperor has a private
suite here. Paying 980 Yen each for the second-best service
we entered what one guidebook says is the hottest bath in Japan.
We took our shoes off at the entrance of an apparently old,
dark-wooden traditional building. We entered a robing room
where the women attendants furnished us with a yukata and
a lacquer tray to place our clothes. Stephen and I went to
the mens’ bath and Val was taken off to the womens’ one
(which was very brave on her part. At least I had Stephen
to rely on.) Taking off our yukata in the ante-room, we
entered the bath room and showered. The onsen itself was
quite large – about 4 metres by 3 – and was fed by
three spouts bringing the volcanically-heated water in.
Whether
it was coincidence or otherwise, the five or six occupants of the
bath departed as Stephen and I showered. I envisaged the
thought flitting through their minds: “You want to catch
horrible hairy disease from barbarian gaijin?” But
maybe they all simply had had enough of the heated water. However,
thoroughly cleaned and shampooed, I gingerly entered the bath.
It was H-O-T! I noted in my diary later that a sign said 43
Celsius, but honestly it must have been much hotter than that.
Stephen joined me and I lay there soaking for ten minutes, which
was very much enough, thank you.
Part-boiled,
this lobster left the pot for the ante-room where I wiped myself
down with the minuscule towel we had been given. In the
middle of this, in sailed … a woman! She was equipped
with various implements and for a moment I thought she was going
to give me the Japanese equivalent of a Finnish birch-twig
thrashing. Fortunately, the implements, on closer
inspection, comprised various cleaning apparata. Hiding
behind the ten square inches of towel, I cowered behind a locker.
She would not have noticed my blushes, due to the colour I had
acquired in the hot tub, but I felt them nevertheless. I
dived for my yukata and eventually put it on, which isn’t
easy when you are damp, perspiring and confused.
We
retired to the robing room where the ministering ladies provided
refreshing green tea and biscuits. Val was still soaking,
but joined us soon after. All the time we were there, we
could hear loud, rhythmic drumming. This turned out to be a
Taiko group, performing for the 2000 Yen customers. Standing
on the balcony, we saw considerable numbers of bath customers
clopping around the streets in their yukata and wooden sandals.
We could also see the pipes bringing the scalding waters down
from the volcanic springs further up the hillside. We
dressed and took our leave, feeling very relaxed.
We
strolled back through the shopping arcade and found a vending
machine which provided a welcome cold drink. We saw an
amazing mechanical clock with many tiers of figurines, many of a
humorous nature. One was a scene in an onsen, another of an
amorous couple, another of a drunken sailor. It was hugely
entertaining and went on for many minutes.
We
took a taxi downtown and found the “Piccadilly Circus”
bar, where I drank Sapporo beer, while Stephen was delighted to
be served with Newcastle Brown Ale.
We
returned to our hotel, still warm and comfortable from the onsen,
at 2.00am.