Day 46: 16 May 2009

LOCATION: NAGASAKI
MOOD: ON THE MOVE
LISTENING TO: RIE FU – MONEY WILL LOVE YOU

AIN'T NO MOUNTAIN HIGH ENOUGH:

There's quite a lot to see and do in Nagasaki, but I decided to start today with a little sightseeing in my own backyard. Well, not my backyard per se, but the hostel's. As I mentioned before, the hostel is situated at the base of a mountain, so on the recommendation of my American friend I decided to take a hike to the top where there would apparently be a nice park and observation platform waiting for me. Luckily I didn't have to break out my Timberlands as the entire climb was paved and lined with houses.

The urban sprawl hits the mountains and just keeps going.

Climbing up through the scattered, haphazard moutainside neighbourhoods was an experience unlike any other. The paths are narrow and winding, and you have to make sure you follow the signs because it's impossible to go in a straight line. Luckily the way up was also littered with distractions including a number of temples and assorted monuments. There was even a soccer pitch at one point.

I remember thinking that it would suck to be the postman here. At least you wouldn't have to worry about putting that step machine in your personal gym though.

If you ever need to take a break you can look over your shoulder and feel good about how far you've climbed.

For some reason there are lots of stray cats in Japan, but not very many stray dogs. I would joke that the stray dogs were probably ending up in kitchens, but I think that's more of a mainland thing.

Boots that definitely were not made for walking.

This temple was nestled quite high up in the mountains. I'm guessing the seclusion aids meditation and contemplation.

When I got to the summit there was indeed a park and observation platform. Apparently there was also some special event going on but I had neither the time and inclination to stick around any longer than it took to snap a few photos. I headed up to the observation deck and the views that greeted me made the soreness in my calves all worth it.

Some guy that did some stuff. And now has his own fan club.

Magnificent.

From the observation platform you can see all the way down to the bay. I ended up down there later that afternoon.

SEEN ONE, SEEN 'EM ALL:

Of course the problem with any journey is that the further you go, the further you have to go back. Normally going downhill is easier than going uphill, but in this case it wasn't easier by much. The steps are quite steep so you can't exactly run, and as you're taking quite big steps it's quite rough on your knees.

When I got back down to the bottom I decided that I would take a look at the other prominent sight in my area, Teramachi ('Temple Row'). It's basically a street lined with temples, similar to Tetsugaku-no-Michi in Kyoto. I started off with the intention of at least walking the length of the street and getting photos at each of them but I got waylaid at the first major temple and spent around 45 minutes wandering the grounds taking photos. By that point the journey was starting to catch up with me so I decided to go back to the hostel, get some lunch and rest for a bit before striking out again.

One temple...

Two temple...

Red temple...

...well, it's not a blue temple but wouldn't it have been cool if it had been?

E PLURIBUS UNUM:

Nagasaki has quite a multicultural history, and there was no better place to explore it than the port area. Given its location in the south of Japan, facing mainland Asia, Nagasaki has historically been a conduit for foreign culture into Japan. Firstly the influence was Asian, with many traders coming from the mainland and establishing strong links in Nagasaki. The next wave was from Europe, with the British and Dutch setting up trading outposts in Nagasaki. Even after Japan adopted its closed door policy to foreigners an artificial island called Dejima was built in Nagasaki to accommodate the Dutch trading mission.

Accordingly, my first stop in the port area was Nagasaki's China Town. It's not in the bay area proper, but it was on the way so I decided to stop by and have a look. It really isn't that different from China Towns anywhere else in the world, but it was still curious to see Japanese people flit about from stall to stall entranced by 'exotic' food. Perhaps that's my Western upbringing but I wonder whether a France Town in Britain would evoke the same sort of response.

An Malaysian-Chinese Australian in China Town, Japan. Talk about an identity crisis.

Well there were some important differences from China Town back home; I didn't see any wannabe gangsters with flick knives.

After that brief detour I headed for my true destination: Dejima. Although a lot more land has since been reclaimed, meaning that Dejima is no longer an island, the area has still been marked off and retained as a place of historical importance. None of the original period buildings are still standing, but a painstaking restoration job has been undertaken to faithfully reconstruct a number of the more important buildings. The work is continuing and a few more buildings are expected to be completed within the next few years.

Seeing a bunch of old buildings that some white people used to live in way back in the day was obviously of huge interest to Nagasaki's tourist population.

That's why they had guys like this to help raise the appeal of the place.

The buildings have been transformed into museum pieces, and together they add up to quite a lot of information. You could easily spend half a day wandering around looking at all the exhibits.

The Dutch traders wanted to go native, but only to a certain extent.

Some things were non-negotiable. Although given that they were sequestered from the rest of the country, God knows who they were expecting to have to entertain.

This little diorama explained how the Dutch brought billiards to Japan. Of course the Japanese came up with karaoke, so I think it's about even.

From Dejima I took the tram further down south to the area that was formerly an enclave for European merchants before they were restricted to Dejima. This hilly area is dotted with churches and other signs of European influence, not the least of which are the faux-European facades adopted by the tourist shops. All in all though it is a charming place, filled with winding paths, laid back cafes and quirky shops. There are also a couple of sights of historical interest, but most were closed by the time I got there.

Apparently the oldest Catholic church in Asia. Unfortunately it's crammed in the winding alleys that dot the hills of Nagasaki, so I couldn't back up any further to widen the shot.

Anpanman is even more awesome in 3D. Now THAT is a lawn ornament that I could live with.

This picture book museum looked interesting, but I thought that there would be too many questions about my sexuality if I didn't have a girl on my arm or a little kid with me when I entered.

Nobody can accuse Nagasaki of lacking old-world charm.

DOWN BY THE BAY:

Working my way down the hill I found myself at the bay of Nagasaki. It was fairly late in the afternoon at this point so I took a stroll down to the pier to take photos of the ships and mountains surround the bay.

The bay is the perfect place to chill at the end of the day. Would have been even better if I had had a six-pack and a good friend to shoot the breeze with.

Very peaceful. I felt like pulling out my easel and watercolours. Then I remembered that I didn't own any, and that I had no artistic talent. So I did what all talentless people do: I took a photo.

I stopped for a seat at one point and an elderly Japanese man came up and started talking to me. I wasn't in any particular rush so I sat and chatted with him a while. Initially he thought I was Japanese, and he was surprised when I told him that I was from Australia. As it turned out he lived in the area and often came down to the bay to greet ferries that arrived from various parts of Japan and overseas. He knew greetings in a couple of languages and boasted that people would wave back when they heard him calling in their own language.

I don't have a photo of the old man, but I do have one of this handsome devil. Come on ladies, it's ok if you want a piece. Just form an orderly line.

He was pretty interested in learning about Australia, and its food in particular. I obliged as best as I could, and then tried to ask him about his own life. That proved to be a dead end; he just didn't seem to want to talk about it. I figured that there might be a reason behind it, given that he was fairly advanced in years and said he'd lived in Nagasaki his entire life, so I didn't press him about it.

By the time we finished talking the sun had begun to set. I didn't really mind; it just made the scene even more beautiful.

This picture is either very poignant or very sad.

It wouldn't be the bay without skaters.

Eventually I decided it was time to move on so I wished him good luck and set off. I was going to head back to the hostel when I decided on the spur of the moment to take more of a look around the bay in an effort to get pictures from different angles. As luck would have it, as I was making my way around the bay I stumbled across a clearing where some sort of festival was being held. It was sponsored by a local TV station and they had a stage with various local bands playing on it as well as a number of booths where you could meet local talent. And of course they had a whole battery of food stalls. I ended up going with a plate of yakisoba (fried noodles) and kakekori (shaved ice with syrup) for dessert.

By this point I could hear the music and smell the food. I was considering just swimming across.

This band was playing Blink-182 style pop punk. I don't think they could really have done anything heavier with that backdrop.

Ahh, melon soda. How I'll miss you.

Electricity: Making night scenes beautiful since the 19th century.

COALITION OF THE DRINKING:

When I arrived back at the hostel I was greeted by my American friend who I had spotted bleary eyed earlier that morning having a smoke outside the hostel. This time he had swapped the cigarettes for liquor and informed me that he was going out drinking that night with another English backpacker who had arrived earlier in the day. The Brit was apparently a huge Manchester United fan, and seeing as they were playing for the Premiership that night he was set on finding a sports bar to watch the game.

The American said he knew of a place where they might show the game, and so we set out – an American, a Brit and an Australian: coalition of the drinking. We ended up at a decent sized, clean bar in the Nagasaki night life district. The American said he wanted to get a fair bit of predrinking done so he downed about 3 cans of beer from vending machines outside the bar before going in, which was in addition to the scotch he had been drinking at the hostel. As a result we had a hillarious conversation about the respective pulling power of whites and Asians in Japan. It got a little embarrassing when he started gesturing to the girls at the next table and intoned 'you could have any of these cuties that you want', and seeing as I had already had two drinks I decided it was time to move on to the next spot. Besides, this place didn't have the game on.

The next place he took us two was a far quieter, less well lit place. The drinks went from beers to spirits and the conversation turned from the banal to the serious as we discussed politics, religion and pretty much anything else that came to mind. At that point the American wanted to go to a club, but the Brit and I were both eyeing our wallets and wondering how much more we could afford to spend. The difficult part was how to extricate ourselves from the situation delicately. Eventually I proposed the following: since the American had been going on about how easy it was to pick up, if he could get the first girls he found on the street to accompany us we would go with him to the club.

...suffice to say, I didn't dance that night. It was actually kind of painful to watch. Perhaps if he had been wearing something more than a plain shirt, an old pair of jeans and a ragged pair of runners (and if his breath hadn't contained quite so much alcohol) I might have ended up with company that night.

I'm not sure because I didn't ask him, but I'm guessing this is what the night looked like to my American friend.
(The photo is from earlier on that evening when I was leaving the bay and playing around with exposure settings to put off having to make the trip home.)