9th to 11th April 2007
On the recommendation of some work colleagues, Tim booked us a couple of days in a log cabin allegedly buried deep in a forest near Nikko.
Nikko is an ancient town about 140km north of Tokyo. It is home to many shrines and temples, a lot of history and has been a centre of worship for centuries. The Nikko National Park is home to wild monkeys, hot springs, beautiful mountains and lakes. So says the guide book.
We are very excited.
Driving through the Japanese countryside was fascinating and I was entranced by glimpses of snowy mountains and views of traditional-style houses and small fields.
Enormous carp flags were on display outside many homes ready for Children's Day on 5th May. Some were several metres long and all were impressive. The flags are called koinibori and are flown to honour sons as a wish that the boys will grow up strong and healthy.
Somehow, with my dreadful navigating, the Japanese-speaking GPS system and the complete lack of signposts as we neared our destination, we eventually found the log-cabin grounds and were thrilled to see the most amazingly picturesque cottage that was to be our home for a couple of nights. It wasn't very deep in a forest at all.
My excitement diminished rapidly when I realised we would be sleeping on futons. And it was quite cold. I don't like cold. Mum went very quiet upon seeing the thin mattresses. I knew how she felt.
Rhiannon was thrilled at this little adventure and quickly chose her room. It had a tiny door, only about 4 feet high so eminently suitable for a child. There was a skylight too, which she adored and promptly lay on her swiftly pulled out futon and was quiet. This is a rare event.
Tim got organised by grabbing futons and laying piles of them out for us. I ended up with about 6, one on top of the other. A bit Princess and the Pea. They were rock hard and exceedingly uncomfortable. I also used about 8 duvets and was still cold. Nevermind, it was just for two nights.
Ignoring the bedtime plight, we set off to explore the immediate area by taking a walk in the forest. It was a coniferous forest with an unnatural feel about it. Coniferous places are never great for experiencing wildlife and after a while, I worked out why this one was particularly strange. There was absolutely no birdsong at all. Eerily quiet and bereft of all life as I mentioned about Mount Takao. Where are all the birds? Surely they haven't all been hunted? Or have they?
Rhiannon trotted off ahead and when we caught up with her she was happily playing in a puddle of mud. As a child who constantly needed someone with her at all times, this was a pleasant break from the norm. I had forgotten to check the bathing facilities at the house, but she was having great fun so we let her continue getting good and muddy.
There wasn't much walking to be had. In Japan it seems you can only walk on marked trails and the "wilderness" is out of bounds, either by being fenced off or inaccessible due to poor terrain. The forest was bordered on one side by a large river and empty road and the other was fenced off.
Back at the cabin, I found a lovely Japanese bathroom with a very small yet deep bath which Rhiannon was quickly placed and the muddy clothes peeled off. The toilet was interesting. The cistern had a little basin built into the top with a tap which ran when the toilet was flushed. What a clever invention to recycle water.
Then we took to the car again in search of an evening meal.
We drove into Nikko town and discovered it closed. Nothing was open at all and it was only about 5.30pm. No restaurants could be found anywhere. After an hour or so of looking, getting increasingly annoyed, we finally found an open restaurant that looked very nice indeed. Tim dropped us there while he went to find a car park and eventually we had a very good meal.
Finding our way back to the cabin would have been impossible if it wasn't for Tim's very excellent sense of direction.
Back inside, we lit a fire. Or rather, Tim tried to light a fire. Many times. Mum was very good and didn't butt in and I dared not catch her eye for fear of giggling at his unsuccessful attempts. Don't want to question the hunter-gatherer's skills, do we? But the flames caught in the end and the house grew cosy and warm very quickly.
A pile of National Geographic magazines and guide books were our evening entertainment.
Then we braved the futons and slept. Sort of.
