Japanory

Work, Work, and Driving for the First Time

20^th February to 23^rd February 2007

Four whole days of work. And I promised I wouldn't go on about this any more, so I won't.

Organising the school run and child care was tricky, but with the help of some well planned playdates at other peoples' homes, and help from Tim, all went smoothly.

Tim drove us both to the school for the morning drop-off and then continued with me to the office. On the day's I finished early, I would catch the train to school, which is a through run from the office, collect Rhiannon and catch the bus from Shibuya home. On days when this wouldn't work, I was lucky enough to manipulate Rhiannon into a playdate where Tim would collect her later in the evening. Perfectly civilised!

But Tim is going away on business next week, so I have to grab the car by the bull horns and drive it sometime. This I do on a day when I only have a half day course scheduled.

My First Driving Experience

One thing in my favour is that in Japan the driving is done on the correct side of the road! They drive on the left, the same as in Britain. All the signs seem similar, so I gathered my courage and set off on an exploratory drive around before heading off to the school. Tim showed me how to use the GPS – press this button, select that one and then press this one – all written in Kanji, so I just have to remember the positions. Far left, 2^nd from bottom right, centre, then far left again.

Nervously, I crawled out of the gates at work, turned left onto a really busy road as instructed by Tim, then left again as instructed on the map... and promptly got lost in the maze of tiny streets! Thankfully, the lady in the GPS got me back on track; track being a huge eight-laned road.

From the sublime to the ridiculous.

The roads here seem to be either very wide and multi-laned or extremely narrow. The narrow, single car-width roads are quaint and fascinating but dreadful to drive along due to the curious positioning of telegraph poles which for reasons unknown are placed at least two feet out from the house walls. These narrow roads are often two-way roads as well, which is quite frankly scary. Combined with people aimlessly ambling along the centre of the road, oblivious to the vehicle behind them driven by a terrified and lost gaijin because they are plugged into their personal stereo, this all makes for, shall we say, an "interesting experience".

It also appears that pedestrians have right of way. What an unusual rule! Correctly so, in my opinion, but a bit of a shock to start with. All pedestrian crossings seem to be located on large junctions, so when turning left, you are suddenly confronted by a sea of people making their casual way across while you wait. Now something makes sense. Nobody crosses the road here unless the 'green man' light is on. Even if there is no car within 2 miles, you wait until the green man says go... Also, nobody 'jaywalks'.

This is all very different from traversing the roads in Britain where you learn to judge a vehicles speed, distance and your chance of survival very quickly as a pedestrian.

Also, to my utter joy, I discovered there do not appear to be roundabouts here in Tokyo! I loathe roundabouts and harbour evil thoughts to the people who invented them, most especially the ones with several lanes and more exits than Shibuya station. Woe betide you if you find yourself in the wrong lane for your exit on one of these monsters; you could be circling for hours without escape. And I don't believe they help the flow of traffic at all.

Instead of roundabouts, Tokyo is littered with traffic lights instead. Every hundred metres or so... and that is not an exaggeration.

I don't mind traffic lights: you know where you are with them. Red means stop, green means go. Easy. However, orange seems to have a slightly different meaning to the one we're used to in the UK. Here, amber seems to imply "if you think you can get through before the light turns red, then go for it – and even if you don't, go for it anyway!".

Anyway, I survived my first drive! I managed to find my way home with just a slight detour then back to school again.

Next I had to negotiate the car park. Once again, most car parks have a different system to the UK and it is one that WORKS. It used to be like this in Britain, but things changed. Here, you pull a ticket from the machine on the way in to lift up the barrier then pay on your way out based on how long you were parked there. No "Pay and Display"!

This ridiculous system used in Britain means you have to guess how long your shopping trip will take before paying for the ticket. As any shopaholic / mum / living human knows, you just cannot gauge how long an expedition will take as too many random factors come into play. What if you get distracted by the special offers? How about those times when your toddler needs to use the toilet just as the time for your ticket runs out? And let's not even mention the queues at the supermarket...

Unfortunately, the car park is closely packed and full of people carriers. Negotiating your way into a parking space is quite tricky and reversing in seems to be the norm. Something I'm not ready to attempt just yet! A cute addition is the inclusion of small 'stop' bumps – short barriers to stop your wheels just before you hit the car parked in the adjacent parking place.

Now I understand why every car in Tokyo sports a few small bumps or scratches somewhere on its bodywork. I wonder how long ours will remain bump-free?

A Day Just for Me

Monday 19th February 2007

With Tim taking full charge of Rhiannon today, I can treat myself to a "Me Day". Bliss!

To start, I will be going to a lesson at the Tokyo Union Church. The part that runs the classes is called the Tokyo Union Church Women's' Society - TUCWS. Their range of courses is incredible and I hope to attend many more, time allowing.

The course I am attending today is all about Japanese Gardens. I'm hoping to learn just how to create one, the meaning and history behind them and most importantly, where to buy the goodies that contribute to them, like plants, rocks and gravel. I'm still awaiting delivery of my lovely lantern and bowl and have read that they need to be placed just so, I'm eager to discover why.

It was held in the kitchen, which was strange, and led by a gentle Japanese lady and attended by about half a dozen other ladies, all American. However, the class didn't delve into the whys, wherefores and how's but was more geared towards a series of poorly photocopied handouts showing where to go and visit the most famous of them. A lot of time was spent telling us how to get to them using public transport, which bus to use and where to disembark.

I was rather disappointed but learned a little bit, but still no nearer finding out where to find a garden centre.

After this, I had a hair appointment at one of the only hair salons in Tokyo that cater for Westerners - "Sin Den". Just a cut today, but will book up for a colour soon. My hair at this time is brown with a cerise fringe and sides. I had it done before leaving the UK in the hope that it would dissuade the Embassy from trying to employ me... it didn't exactly work, did it?!

Armed with a map, I discovered the hair salon was within walking distance of the church, so I wandered down some tiny and confusing streets but still couldn't find it. So I called them and they talked me in.

Lovely place, all lush and decorated in black. The hair washing stations had beds rather than chairs, but don't quite fit me and my legs stuck out from the knees down. Good haircut, so will return.

Then to head home, I decided to walk as it was such a lovely day and I was fairly sure that it wasn't too far away. I discovered that once on the main road, it was about a half hour walk to get home. It was fascinating to see some of the shops and buildings. One in particular caught my attention: a magnificent florists with some enormous and very expensive plants on sale. One instalment was particularly beautiful, a deep red bowl, about a metre in diameter and filled with water. The water was covered with duckweed, a pest in British ponds, but used to great artistic effect in this case.

A nice "Me Day". Back to school tomorrow for Rhiannon and a full week of work for me.

Short and Sweet

Saturday 17^th February 2007

Tim's not due back until this evening yet we have been invited to a "meet the baby" do at one of his colleague's homes. Although I feel a bit awkward visiting someone I haven't yet met, I force myself in order to gain quality of life by meeting new people.

Luckily, their home is within walking distance, a couple of blocks away so Rhiannon and I head off. She takes the opportunity to ride her bike, which does little for my nerves.

We ended up having a lovely afternoon, meeting a gorgeous new baby girl, her parents and other lovely couples and individuals. Lovely food, great music and interesting conversation with intelligent people.

What a relief after yesterday!

Tim's arrival home was greeted with much joy by Rhiannon and relief by me.

He's taking Monday off in lieu so I can go to my very first class at the church. (Still find that a hard sentence to write. Me, going to a church! Hah!!)

Playdate from Hell

Friday 16^th February 2007

Oh great. Tim had to go away on business in the middle of half term week. He's such a good hands-on Dad that this makes life harder for me. And I don't like that!

Still, Maria has invited herself and her two girls over for a playdate today, so that should ease the load a bit.

How wrong I was.

She said she'd be over just after lunch, so about 1pm. I gave the house a really good tidy up and waited. And waited. And waited...

Eventually she rolled up at nearly 4 o'clock. No phone call to explain, or was I expecting too much? Apparently they had been out buying new school books. Why they need books I didn't find out until a bit later.

The first thing Maria said when she sailed through the door was "Oh, I do love a messy house! It makes it look so quaint and lived in"!! [Insert many under-the-breath swear words here]

Not a great start. It got worse.

I made tea, my usual lazy way – tea bag in cup. But no, that wasn't right! She proceeded to lecture me on how I needed to use a teapot as she drinks a lot of tea and this method won't keep up with her needs... And which tea I should buy. And where to buy a teapot. I have teapots, I just don't use them much. We make a date to go to Kappabashi, "kitchenware town" where all the ceramics and all sorts of interesting things are sold. Like teapots.

Then she proceeds to look through all my things, inspecting my books and ornaments as if to check my credentials. Not a problem, I'm happy with my credentials and don't need affirmations from her. She found nothing to criticise and sat her not insubstantial frame down on the sofa.

She tells me that she's so happy to have found me, and that her daughters need a "nice English speaking girl with a good vocabulary as a friend". What an odd comment!

However, the girls didn't really get on.

Three is always a crowd with children, especially when a couple stick together like the two sisters, and one is a bossy little madam like my daughter. So there were constant interruptions by all the girls of "Muuu-uuum, this has happened", "she won't let me play", "she has broken my toy", and other bickering. Most of the time, and if I was on my own with them, this would have been dealt with in my standard way: "play nicely or come in here where I can see you", depending on how much telling off was required. But Maria has a rather different way of parenting in which every incident was psychologically dissected and somehow, very cleverly, the blame always seemed to lie with Rhiannon or me. It was over two years ago now, so I can't remember the specifics, just the feeling I was left with. This wasn't really apparent until after they'd all gone, so cunningly was it done.

Between information and advice upon everything under the sun, freely given by her, I discover that her kids are being what I believe is known as 'hot housed'. The girls are 5 and 6 (although there has since been talk that the ages have been misinformed in order for them to get into a higher year at school so they may be a year younger than this). Their bedtimes are no earlier 10pm because they spend their entire evenings doing various classes from ballet, violin, piano, Japanese plus a lot of extra home learning. They are never allowed to watch anything on TV that might possibly be construed as entertainment and all reading books are educational. All weekends are taken up ferrying the children around to various educational facilities and basically, life revolves around them.

Each to their own, but I don't want to be told that my way is wrong, which is what was being implied.

Once they finally left, I felt exhausted and drained. But worse, on analysing the afternoon and the various veiled remarks, I felt like the worst mum in the world! Later I felt angry that someone could make me feel like that.

My eyes are beginning to be opened to this woman now and what I see is not pleasant. I will go to Kappabashi with her and see how that transpires, because I need someone to show me around (yes, OK, I'm using her), but I will see if I can organise the next playdate, if there is one, so that I have just one child, not both.

Snow Town Yeti

Tuesday 13^th February 2007

OK, I agree this is a bizarre title, but it is the name of an actual place; a snow resort at the base of Mount Fuji. http://www.yeti-resort.com/e/index.html

As it's half term, and Tim has to go away for most of the week, he's taken a day off work to take us for our first real trip in the new car. We did go to Costco at the weekend, but that's not really a trip worth blogging about again (yes, we bought more toilet paper!).

We read about Snow Town Yeti in a magazine here called Tokyo Families. This is a very useful little mag giving ideas for days out suitable for children.

Miraculously, Tim has managed to work out how to use the Japanese GPS system in the car. In fact, I don't think he's been doing much else at work this past week apart from playing with the car which has been on the premises while the paperwork was being completed. One thing that made me laugh was his utter horror when he saw the digital map flash up with numerous swastikas. Swastikas, as I'm sure many of you know, are a symbol for Buddhist temples and we have a lot of them around here; the sign was used long before the Nazis took the symbol on.

So, Snow Town Yeti has been plugged in as a destination and we are almost ready to go.

First of all though, we have to get suitably attired for it. I possess nothing remotely appropriate for playing in the snow apart from a huge duvet parka. Ski-trousers and sensible boots are not part of my wardrobe, but then I never needed them sledging as a kid so probably don't now...

Rhiannon is to be kitted out in many layers of clothes under her "zoot-suit", an all-in-one waterproof affair she's had since she was two. Way too big for her then, she's finally fitting into it perfectly. New snow boots have been purchased for her. And her red puffa jacket to match Daddy's.

There's a cute story attached to this jacket: when I was pregnant, Tim went to China on business and returned with matching red jackets for all of us, bump included. Now, I find his and hers matching clothes incredibly icky and quickly donated mine to someone else. However, the jacket he thought would perfectly fit our soon-to-be-newborn was enormous! Not having had much contact with babies, he actually thought this jacket was newborn sized... *horrifying thought*. It didn't fit her until she was four years old!

Sledges have been bought, but the shop only had two left so we'll have to take turns. I can't find an old cattle-feed bag like I used to possess in my childhood – now that was a good sledge.

And off we go.

The lady in the GPS only speaks Japanese, but is very polite and doesn't get annoyed when we make a mistake. But the pictorial map seems easy enough to follow. The toll roads are fairly straightforward too, the cost is 700 yen per gate, and each gate is manned by cheerful individuals (what a job! Amazing they can be so jolly.) Getting to the main freeway was quite tricky as the entrances are really well hidden and it took a few attempts to understand that the small green arrows meant "This way to the main road".

An aside – why are they called "Freeways" when you have to pay to go on them?

En-route, I enjoyed gazing out the window watching the world go by, experiencing a whole new side of Tokyo not yet seen. From the huge skyscrapers of Shinjuku to the smaller, more traditional buildings. Many, many highly decorated shrines and temples and fascinating little shops. Lots of opportunities for a little giggle too as this sign indicates.

After some time, Mount Fuji appears straight ahead of us. Although still far away, this mountain takes your breath away with its symmetrical beauty and suddenness of appearance. Unexpectedly looming in the distance, it's snow-capped peak beckons and even the car- driver's nightmare, Rhiannon, perks up. "Are we there yet?"

Success! We find Snow Town Yeti and have some simple fun by watching the temperature drop as the car climbs the mountain (thermometer in the car). It got to about -10°C upon arrival. My jeans are not seeming like such a good idea right now.

The car park is empty and free, but apparently this is because all the Japanese schools are not on holiday so we are lucky. Entrance is straightforward too – we aren't going skiing or hiring anything, so the price is minimal. And we're in!

The layout is a few shops selling and hiring equipment, vending machines, of course and a restaurant. Outside the restaurant are a number of fire pits which look like they will come in useful later. Steps lead down to the snow. The snow isn't 'real', but created by a snow machine. Who cares? We certainly don't! It's not plastic; it's cold and is frozen water droplets, therefore it is real snow.

The place is almost empty and we spend the next four hours having an absolute whale of a time! I love sledging!! Interestingly none of us are into skiing – me for my dodgy knees, Rhiannon because she's a scaredy cat and Tim just doesn't see the attraction. One day I'll try it, just to see, but for now I'm happy to return to my childhood and slide as fast as I can down hills on a piece of plastic.

From time to time we take a break and grab some coffee or hot chocolate from the vending machine and sit around the firepit before heading back to the slope. We had some food, but it was revolting, like a particularly bad McDonalds.

Four hours of sledging is a great exercise – I found muscles I didn't even know existed. And surprisingly didn't get too cold. It was a beautiful day, and of course, the exercise kept me toasty warm.

After a while, the snow had compacted to the perfect consistency and rather than being stopped by the small upward slope at the bottom of the run we started going up it. Rhiannon very nearly went over the edge which frightened her a little!

Around the top of the hill the snow had melted and while Tim and I drank another tin of coffee Rhiannon wandered off to a baby's playground whereupon she promptly fell over in the mud. Time to call it a day

Days like this usually end in tears for a five year old. We all slept very well that night, but trying to move the next morning was painful!

To Drive or Not to Drive...?

We finally have the car. Hurray! Just in time for the half term holidays coming up.

But I'm too terrified to drive in Tokyo just now, so Tim uses it to get to work while Rhiannon and I take the bus as it is so easy.

Why am I terrified? Well, I learnt to drive in Devon, many, many years ago. Lovely, gentle Devon where there is little traffic to negotiate, tiny single-track lanes lined with soft grassy hedges and easy, simple roads with no roundabouts. I am a dab-hand at reversing quickly and adeptly to a passing place; I can wait patiently while a herd of cows or flock of sheep bustle past me; emergency braking when confronted with a combine harvester on a blind corner is no problem and passing tractors on a bend road was a risk I was willing to take.

And then I moved to London. This was in 1988, just as the "hot-hatch" problem arose (I had an XR2 at the time). From costing around £300 to insure in Devon, the cost suddenly shot up to astronomical regions. And that was with the only two insurance companies willing to quote for someone under the age of 25. Insuring it would have cost more than the car was worth, so I reluctantly sold it (for more than I paid for it, hee hee!) and went onto permanent public transport for the next 12 years.

I lived next to two train stations so it wasn't a problem. Well, that's a misnomer as we're talking about London public transport, but I'm sure you know what I mean.

Then I met Tim, and moved to Northampton where I was forced back into driving again as I had to get from home to the train station, 7 miles away, usually at 6am, for my commute to London. My nerve deserted me and I found I was really scared of driving! How ridiculous. In my defence, the area was littered with far too many roundabouts than are necessary or healthy, and filter lanes which I had never used before. Plus I have no sense of direction and can get lost just crossing a road.

Tim bought me a GPS / SatNav system which helped me no end. But it took a long time for me to feel comfortable driving again.

So Tokyo's notorious traffic, multi-laned roads and complicated road signs are somewhat daunting to me at the moment.

I will overcome, of course.

Party Girl

[Random date – before the last few posts anyway!]

Rhiannon has been invited to a birthday party. The birthday girl is the daughter of one of Tim's colleagues and a year or two older than Rhiannon, but so sweet for my girl to be included.

She is SO happy about this as you can see from her photo! A chance for my little diva to get all dressed up and mix with some new people.

Sadly, she's been finding it hard to settle in school, having missed out on so much schooling during and after our move. The level of teaching is far above that of her school in the UK so she is lagging behind significantly, despite our efforts to help at home. She's a stubborn little soul. There are also peer problems.

Even at reception age, little girls can be bitchy, which is quite shocking really. Rhiannon desperately wants to be friends with the "alpha" girl, who knows how to play a mean game: one day she's all friendly, the next she doesn't want to speak to Rhiannon. My poor girl cannot understand this at all and I find it heartbreaking to see her try desperately hard to work out why people are like this. I try to tell her to find someone else to play with, but she's set on this girl.

Another issue is the "fitting in" aspect that I guess all young children want. Many of the girls in class are of Asian origin, with dark hair and eyes. Rhiannon, being blonde and blue-eyed stands out and occasionally says she wants to look like everyone else.

Plus she's in a class with a particularly disruptive boy. And the teacher spends more time keeping this one lad in order than looking out for the other pupils. He seems to thrive on one-to-one with the teacher and knows that misbehaviour is the way to get it. Every day there is some sort of altercation to report, but even though I've tried talking with the teachers, nothing is done. Apparently, this particular boy has "known issues": on Rhiannon's first day of school he punched her in the chest, hard, for no known reason. I've spent hours advising her on how to deal with him, ending up with telling her to stand up to him, rather than run off crying to the teacher. She's very kind hearted and one day, while the lad was picking on someone else, Rhiannon stepped in and did just that – stood up to him. He backed off and some weeks later, they became firm friends, culminating in mutual playdates.

But I digress...

Perhaps this party will help her feel wanted by her sort-of peers and it's always good to have an older friend at school.

The party was held in a room above the Hard Rock Café and she had an absolutely fantastic time with games, plenty of food and the obligatory goody bag. They played bingo, which she needed help with as she's not au-fait with the game.

It's good to see Rhiannon smiling properly again.

In Which I Go Out For Dinner

7^th February 2007

It appears that a ritual with this school is that the mums regularly organise girls' nights out. How lovely!

I haven't been out much these days. Well, by "these days" I mean about 5 years. Since moving to Northampton and having a child, I've become rather a hermit due to circumstances such as nowhere to go, nobody to go with, and no babysitter. It looks like life is finally about to change: I love being back in a city!

So, this night-out has been planned. I'm going. Tim is staying at home with Rhiannon who is most put out that Mummy is actually going somewhere without her...

The restaurant has been booked for around 20 ladies and directions given, but apparently "it's quite hard to find unless you can read Japanese". Interesting.

But all was well. A couple of ladies I recognised were standing outside the building to direct lost gaijin.

The interior of the Toriyoshi Restaurant was exceptionally sophisticated yet somehow traditional. I was escorted through to the reserved room where most people were already seated. I was looking forward to chatting properly with some of the other mothers from Rhiannon's class. But something was amiss...

The long table was occupied mostly at one end only, at the other, empty end sat Maria who immediately collared me to sit with her. I couldn't refuse; besides, her true personality hadn't revealed itself to me by this stage. But I should have noticed the alignment of people, i.e. everyone else was sitting away from her... and I was effectively barred from chatting to anyone else.

However, food and drink was soon served so I metaphorically shrugged and tucked in. This was my very first taste of Japanese food! I'm embarrassed to admit that even though we've been here over two months, it's true.

The set menu had been pre-booked and the food just kept on coming and coming. Just about coping with my chopsticks, I tasted my first sashimi – and found it to be absolutely delicious, and drank various different types of sake. Maria told me all sorts of in-depth information about the different types of sake, but unfortunately I cannot remember a word of it.

I also had something called silken tofu, which was not delicious. I didn't like it, the taste wasn't pleasant and the texture was repulsive to me, which was just as well as I couldn't pick it up with chopsticks at all: it has the consistency of soft blancmange.

The only time the other ladies took notice of Maria was when a shabu-shabu arrived. Maria is apparently an expert on all things Japanese so she cooked it for us. It's basically a pot of boiling liquid on top of a burner where you cook your own food, a mix of meat, vegetables, tofu and other items. The mushrooms were more like the kind of fungi found growing on rotten trees in the UK, but tasted fine.

Then a big bowl of something odd arrived. At first glance it looked like chips, but on closer inspection was something covered in batter. It looked appetising so I grabbed some but when I bit into one I couldn't believe what I was eating! It was deep-fried tendons!! Yes, the triangular pieces of gristle from a chicken. However, the he batter tasted scrumptious, so I just ate that and left the rest.

Meanwhile the sake had been substituted for champagne and even though I didn't get to know any of the other ladies it was a very good night. From what I remember...!

We Have Wheels!

Unbounded joy! Tim has found us a car!!

Second-hand cars here are very cheap compared to the UK and we never buy new anyway. And we also don't follow the crowd of other expats who buy the biggest people carriers they can find then wonder why they can't negotiate the tiny streets without dinging the bodywork. However, they do have some fancy gadgets in them including a rear-view camera with alarms that go off when they reverse too close to something.

So, we will soon have a little pale-gold coloured Toyota. The British name for it is the Corolla Verso while here it's known as a Spacio.

Happy, happy, happy!

There is the small matter of a large pile of paperwork first, so that has been completely delegated to Tim to deal with. All the driving licence stuff has been completed as you will have seen from a previous post.

To own a car in Japan you also have to prove you have a parking space! What a brilliant idea – something for the UK to think about, in my opinion.

Transfer of ownership forms have to be completed for used cars, mandatory and optional insurance bought, and the number plate to be re-registered in our name. The optional insurance is actually compulsory if you want full coverage. Nice little ploy.

Luckily, being diplomats, we are exempt from car tax and the compulsory shaken, Japan's version of the MOT. Pronounced 'shah-ken' (which is a shame, as the spelling pronounced in English is more apt) this is a very expensive and compulsory inspection; which is why most people don't buy second-hand cars, preferring instead to get a new vehicle every couple of years. I believe a shaken costs around £1200-£1500!

Further driving costs are toll roads, which can add quite a considerable outlay to your journey, but petrol is really cheap. At the time (early 2007) the cost of a litre of fuel was about .50p. Plus we get this duty free due to our diplomatic status. We are indeed privileged.

Sorry to all readers in the UK who have to pay exorbitant rates for your petrol.

Hopefully none of this will take too long and we can get out and explore Japan

Stone Lanterns and Other Wonderful Things

6^th February 2007

What a fabulous day! I went on a trip with a few other mums from school, organised by a fabulously capable lady called Connie.

All neatly sandwiched between school hours and very slickly organised with regards to train times and connections, about ten of us went to a place selling Japanese stone lanterns and other gorgeous items. A mega-shopping trip!

From Shibuya station, we caught two trains and after an hour ended up at a place in the country called Zushi, which was even further away than Kamakura. At Zushi station, the son of the shop owner met us with a minibus and drove us to his father's small workshop set beside a narrow road.

What heaven! Already deeply admiring Japanese culture of most kinds, I had done a little research into these special ornaments and decided to treat myself to a small lantern. It has to be small as our shipping allowance wouldn't permit transporting many extras on our next trip, either back to the UK or to another country.

But the choice was overwhelming and with more than just lanterns to choose from, we all found it very hard to make a decision.

I was astounded at all the other women being unable to make a decision without their husbands' approval. They were all taking photos of various items, then sending them via phone for hubby's opinion. Tim wouldn't have been at all impressed if I kept bugging him like this, and besides, he knows my taste is far superior to his!

It still took us all 2 hours to choose which of the beautiful, hand-carved stonework we would buy for our gardens. There were so many delightful styles to choose from, and what I really wanted wouldn't fit into my tiny garden. At one point, the son came out with cups of hot orange juice for us. Delicious and unexpected, it turns out that this is a particular type of Japanese orange called Mikan which grows in abundance here.

I chose a small dark-coloured granite lantern, and couldn't resist also purchasing a tsukubai, a little granite bowl traditionally used to rinse your hands before partaking of the tea ceremony. Eventually, we had all made our choices and arranged delivery, paid and rather dizzily drifted back onto the street.

However, the owner then kindly invited us back to his home for tea. Well, he had made rather an incredible profit that day – one lady alone had bought four huge lanterns. We were more than happy to accept, although some people made their own way back to the station rather than be sociable.

What an experience! This was my first sight of a 'real' Japanese home, both inside and out, all paper walls, tatami matting on the floors and a sunken fire pit called a hibachi. Hanging over the fire was a large iron kettle attached to a magnificent hook carved in the design of a fish. The lady of the house welcomed us with open arms and directed us to cushions placed around the hibachi. Kindly, she advised that she didn't mind if we didn't kneel as she understood it was hard for gaijin to do this! She served us delicious green tea and biscuits while her husband told us that the stone masonry is his 'side job'... his real job is moving Japanese houses. Yes, this is actually what he does - he moves the ENTIRE house, with all the contents in situ, including, (as he said) the fish in their tank. He somehow does it by piling the whole house onto pallets and moving it inch by inch. Not sure on the actual technique but apparently he is one of the last people in Japan who can do this.

They also kindly allowed us to look around their home. The windows had sliding shutters designed to present a perfectly framed view of the carefully manicured garden dependent on the time of year. Each ornament was striking in its beauty and strategically placed. Little alcoves displaying scrolls and special treasures adorned the immaculate rooms. It was an interior designer's heaven, yet normal life for these lovely people.

Sadly we didn't have much time there as we had to catch a train back to make it back to Tokyo in time to collect our children from school. And unfortunately, I hadn't thought to take my real camera with me, so these are taken with my phone and not great quality. Incidentally, those are reflections across his highly polished and gorgeous table, not smears on the lens.

Note to self - ALWAYS carry a real camera!