16 August Wings over Japan and
a right royal meal
Once
Val and I had agreed with Stephen that we were coming to visit
him in August, he and his fiancée Yasuko decided to marry while
we were in Japan. See 23rd
August for the nuptials. Subsequently, Yasuko’s
parents, who live in Kagoshima, the southernmost city of mainland
Japan, invited us, at their expense, to fly down to meet them.
So it was that we made our way to Haneda airport on the outskirts
of Tokyo for the nearly 2-hour flight to Kagoshima.
I
was the cause of a minor incident at the airport. Wherever
I travel, I carry my trusty Swiss Army Knife with me. It
has been useful in many places: harvesting the fruit of the
prickly pear on a hike across Semi, one of the Greek islands;
disabling the microphone concealed in my hotel room in a
Leningrad hotel in the communist era; fixing cameras and opening
more than one bottle of wine and many tin cans all over western
Europe. I usually place it in my checked luggage when I fly
with it, but this time it was in my hand luggage, and to be
honest, I had forgotten it was in there. Naturally it
showed up on the X-ray security check. The security man
called his supervisor over, and he approached me, bowing low.
He was extremely sorry for the inconvenience, but for security
reasons, which he was sure I understood, I would have to hand it
over to the flight crew, and collect it when I returned. (To
save having to repeat the story, the same happened on our return
flight from Kagoshima, since I once again forgot to pack it in
the checked baggage. Idiot.)
The
JAL flight was smooth and comfortable. On the in-flight
movie screen, they showed the view from a camera placed somewhere
near the nosewheel of the plane. It was a very exhilarating
view of take-off, but was switched off once we climbed above the
clouds. On the way, Val was excited to see the top of Fuji
poking through the clouds from her vantage point by one of the
starboard windows. After she had taken a number of
photographs, I was invited across from my disadvantageous seat in
the centre block, only to discover that Fuji was now obscured by
the wing of the plane. However, I was willing to accept the
collective testimony of Val, Stephen and Yasuko that Fuji-San had
indeed been visible only moments previously.
Having
arrived at Kagoshima, we were met by Yasuko’s father, who
loaded us and our luggage into his car and drove us the 20 miles
or so to our hotel in central Kagoshima. On the way, he and
I discovered that we are very similar in age.
We
disembarked and registered (with much bowing) at the Hotel Chisan in the
centre of Kagoshima. This was a comfortable western-style
business class hotel. That evening, we took a taxi to the Sun Royal
Hotel, overlooking Sukurajima, the volcano that dominates the
coastal skyline of Kagoshima. We were greeted with much
bowing and shaking of hands by Yasuko’s parents and her
grandmother and taken up to the 13th floor.
There
we were entertained to one of the most sumptuous meals it has
ever been my pleasure to eat. When we left, we saw some of
the head chef’s many awards for haute cuisine. He
certainly deserves a Michelin rosette or two for his
French-inspired cooking.
We
started with pâté de fois gras garnished with a salad, itself
garnished with – I kid you not – gold leaf! It
looked – and tasted – spectacular. This was
followed by a pale consommé (the chef’s signature dish,
made from special veal and chicken stock) with slivers of some
kind of shellfish (maybe abalone) in it. It was served in a
sort of champagne flute, and we were provided with a curious
implement to use. It was a rod the length of a knitting
needle, with a small spoon at one end and a two-pronged fork at
the other. The really unusual thing about it was that the
whole device was made of gold. This dish was, without
doubt, one of the sublimest flavours I have ever tasted. It
was what I call “desert island” food. If I were
shipwrecked never to be rescued, and had an infinite supply of
just one food to eat for pleasure, this soup would be ideal for
the purpose.
The
next dish was a platter of three fish dishes: bream, crab dressed
with caviar, and scallop. This was followed by a plate of
the tenderest and most flavourful beef, accompanied by – I
think – tongue and some cooked vegetables. A fruit
dessert and coffee ended this memorable meal.
There
was a certain amount of photography that went on during the meal,
and I made a little speech promising that Val and I would cherish
Yasuko as our own daughter. We had brought presents for
Yasuko’s parents and grandmother. We gave a little
teapot and some top-quality “English” tea, together
with some shortbread biscuits sold under the Prince of
Wales’ Duchy of Cornwall brand to Yasuko's mother. We
gave Grandmother some Japanese sweet bean paste confections.
We
had anguished quite a while about what gift to give to
Yasuko’s father. We wanted something masculine and
typically English. Then we had a brainwave. We knew
that he enjoyed watching baseball, so figured that he would like
something sporting. Sporting … masculine …
English ergo cricket! So we went down to Leicestershire
County Cricket Club’s shop at Grace Road (http://www.leicestershireccc.co.uk/indx2.htm)
and bought him a cricket pullover in Leicestershire colours.
In view of the summer heat in Kagoshima, I wasn’t at all
sure he would wear this, but apparently it cools down
considerably in the winter. We also asked one of our
friends who is a Leicestershire committee member if he could
obtain an autograph or two of the players. Autographs are
collectible things in Japan. John excelled himself. He
provided us with a Leics. CCC year book, and had obtained the
autographs of almost every player on their pictures, as well as
autographs of some England players from other counties who
happened to be playing against Leicestershire at the time. He
also obtained a miniature cricket bat, again covered with
signatures. These we gave to Yasuko’s father.
Stephen
asked him (in Japanese) whether he had heard about the game of
cricket. “Yes,” he replied, “it’s a
cross between baseball and hockey.”
We
returned to central Kagoshima, and Val and I wandered around the
entertainment district, which is next to the hotel, for an hour
or so. Actually, we were looking for a bar or coffee shop
that didn’t look as if we might get mugged in, to no avail.
(I’m sure they were all safe, really, but we didn’t
have the courage to go in.) It was terribly hot and my
shirt was soaked. The only particularly noticeable thing
was a rat making its way from one restaurant’s rubbish bin
to another. It looked warily at us as it scurried past.
Somehow, I was disappointed that it didn’t bow.
