The kind of thriving metropolis you'll find if you start taking random off-ramps.

This was actually one of the highlights of summer 2010, which I wrote about in the personal blog I was keeping at the time, but it’s worth sharing here, too. You’ll have to forgive the quality of the pictures in this one – it’s what I could get from inside a moving vehicle with an old camera.

For some background on this: my friend Dana and I decided to go down to Portland, Oregon for an overnight trip. There was a concert we wanted to see and it’s only a three to three and a half hour drive from Seattle, so it seemed perfectly doable. It actually ended up taking roughly five hours because, unlike most people who think about where they exit the freeway, we opted for a more haphazard approach.

It all started in Thurston County, home of the state capital, when we decided it was time for lunch. Not knowing the area, we just picked the next off-ramp, following a Food sign. It seemed fairly foolproof, but clearly something went awry because we did not find food (with or without capitalization). We did, however, find a lot of empty space and, apparently, Tumwater. But Tumwater did not offer up so much as a McDonald’s, so we didn’t pay it much attention.

No food in sight.

We did drive around for a while, not wanting to abandon hope at the first sign of difficulty, and ended up following a sign directing us to Tenino. We did not find Tenino, which ended up being one of the day’s recurring themes. Instead we found a little league baseball game and some industrial buildings on our way back to I-5. Now, here is where the logical thing to do would have been to wait for signs of a town, or a mall, or something. But we didn’t do that because, as we put it at the time: what could possibly go wrong?

Clearly, we made an excellent choice.

The next off-ramp informed us that we were headed for Tenino (still). I knew we had to be on our way to a booming city when I saw the sign pictured to the right, in all its classy middle-of-nowhere glory. We decided not to go that way because it didn’t look very promising, unless you fancy truck stops and Shell stations when you go out for lunch. Instead, we went left past a sign that insisted that Tenino was that way. Really this time.

Well, we didn’t find Tenino, and we went really far down the little two-lane road, farther and farther from civilization. It was a good fifteen-minute detour because we were convinced that, if three consecutive signs say Tenino, then Tenino must, in fact, be somewhere in the vicinity.

It wasn’t. We never even saw another sign for it, proving that the state of Washington, or whoever happens to be in charge of misleading signs in Thurston County, just likes to tease people. Oh, you want a town? Well, we don’t have one, so enjoy the countryside. But we did find an invisible corn maze, so it wasn’t a total loss.

We ended up going back to the freeway at that point but, determined not to be bested by Thurston County, we decided to try again. Not on the next off-ramp, because it was nothing but construction, but the one after that. It even had a Food sign, helpfully letting us know that down that road a Subway could be found. As, apparently, could Tenino. Again. But we did not believe them because clearly Tenino is a myth and does not really exist save for in the minds of weary travelers. Subway sounded good, though, so off down the road we went.

I love a good invisible corn maze, myself.

And went.

And went.

A good five or so miles down the road, long past any sign of what might be called “town” and nearing the end of our ability to hold out hope, we found the promised Subway. In a building that looked somewhat like a garden shed, next to a shop called Mason Dixon Line (far, far from the real Mason Dixon Line), and down the street from a massive sign advertizing Wild West Guns. It was more or less the most stereotypical American landscape Washington State could have provided. And the best possible conclusion to our roughly hour long tour of the middle of nowhere.

Of course, we passed an outlet mall, visible from the freeway, about thirty seconds after getting back on our way, but that’s neither here nor there.

Some people have told me that it was a ridiculous waste of time, insisting that we should have thought ahead more carefully, or been more reserved about where we got off I-5. But I can’t imagine a better addition to an otherwise boring drive. Random expeditions into the wilds of south-west Washington is what made it something more than getting from Point A to Point B. It became a story worth telling and something that, over a year later, can still make me laugh.

And that’s what it’s all about, really. If we were cautious and fixated on the most expedient way to reach our destination all the time, we’d never have any adventures. Getting lost, or at least very sidetracked, is half the fun of leaving home. So no regrets from me. In fact, after the concert itself, that drive was my favorite part of the whole trip. It was perfect.

Gorgeous ceiling art in one of the temple buildings. I love it.

Ishiteji (石手寺) is an extremely peculiar, but absolutely wonderful, temple near Dogo Onsen. It’s number 51 on the Shikoku 88 Temple Pilgrimage, though my not being a pilgrim probably tells you that’s not why I went, and like the Umeda Sky Building it’s a place I found because my mother wanted to see it. Travel guides, people, they exist for a reason. Since the initial visit with my family I’ve been back twice. Once with my sister later that week and once on my own more recently. And I can tell you that, despite not being a temple nut and generally subscribing to the view that after a while all Japanese temples start to look the same, it is genuinely my favorite place in Matsuyama.

I think people from the US and Canada sometimes underestimate the age of a lot of things in Japan and are surprised by how old Ishiteji is. It was founded in the eighth century and a lot of the main complex, including the gate (on the national historic registry), is Kamakura (1185-1333). It’s an active temple, and fairly popular with Japanese people, though I’ve never seen other foreigners there and know people who have lived in the area for a couple of years without really hearing about it. I’ve tried to convince some friends to go out there with me, because I love it so much, but no one’s ever all that keen. Probably because the reason I like it so much is the oddity that lurks beneath surface.

Wall art inside the caves. I turned the flash on because otherwise I couldn't even see the wall.

If you walk around behind the main temple, you’ll find the entrance to a series of very dark caves that go through the hill. There are two ways in, but I think one is meant to be an exit because it’s less clearly marked (guess which one I found first), and the whole thing is lined with wall art and filled with 88 stone Buddha statues, one for each of the temples in the pilgrimage. There are also alcoves with other statues and religious items, some of which startled me. It’s very dark, cold no matter how hot it is outside, and on my most recent visit I was the only one there, so it was dead silent. It’s actually really creepy, which is why it’s so cool. I like a healthy dose of adrenaline with my religious sites.

When you get to the end of the passage, you exit onto a narrow, paved road. Across the road to the right is a massive old cemetery, which is also worth a visit because it’s lovely, and to the right is a place that feels forgotten about and neglected. A definite haikyo (廃墟), if such a thing can exist at an otherwise active temple. It’s very overgrown, very quiet except for the cicadas, and filled with crumbling statues of Hindu gods that look like no one’s paid attention to them in years.

Like this guy.

But it gets even more peculiar as you get to the end of the path and find a very unusual structure: a spherical bronze temple on a marble base. Honestly, I’ve never seen another temple like it and it’s completely different from everything else at Ishiteji. There isn’t much in the way of signage, but there’s writing in Sanskrit on a pillar in front of it. Inside you will find a single flight of stairs leading up to the creepiest collection of wooden statues I have ever seen, in a perfectly round room lit only by skylights.

Welcome to the land of the creepy wooden people.

If it were just a few statues, it wouldn’t be all that noteworthy, but the sheer volume is startling. As is the fact that they’re all staring at you and look like they could start moving any second. Interspersed with the statues are a few red velvet chairs, though there doesn’t seem to be a gate in the fence and I can’t imagine why anyone would want to sit there anyway. I would assume that the building is simply not in regular use, but there’s a sound system attached to the center console, and a projector screen on one wall, so people must go there sometimes. The power was on, anyway, despite there not being any lights. I asked around and finally got the explanation that the monk in charge of the temple is an artist and the statues are his project: he’s making 500 of them, each a different god, and the round temple is their repository. That knowledge does not make them any less unsettling, but I love unique, weird stuff like that. I’ve never seen anywhere else like it and that’s so cool.

And, if you can drag your attention away from the hundreds of eyes locked on you to look up, you’ll find something very beautiful:

This.

So you should definitely check out Ishiteji if you’re ever in southern Japan. I only wish I’d discovered it sooner, because it’s fantastic.

Cost: Free

Hours of Operation: The shops close at 17:00.

How to Get There: Take the number 3 streetcar from Matsuyama City Station to Dogo Onsen and hop on bus 8. The stop is Ishiteji and it’ll be about a 5-minute ride. The bus runs every 20 minutes.

Address: Ishite 2-9-11, Matsuyama, Ehime

Paper cranes at Ishiteji (Matsuyama, Ehime, Japan)

At karaoke wearing a yukata.

It’s occurred to me that, since this blog is devoted to the places I go and things I experience, with a side order of related articles, providing more information about me might not go amiss. It might help explain why I choose the places and things I do, anyway.

So, here are ten random (but travel-related!) facts about me:

01. I’m from the Seattle area, I went to university in Salem, OR, and in Japan I’ve lived in both Kawagoe, Saitama and Matsuyama, Ehime. Between the two cities, I’ve spent about a year and a half total in Japan.

02. As fun and comforting as it is to have companions when you’re in a foreign place, I actually really like traveling alone. It’s a totally different experience and one that lends itself to interaction with the people around you. I’ve had some fantastic conversations with shop staff in Japan because I was on my own and it’s less intimidating to try to talk to a lone foreigner than to interject into a group.

03. My next international adventure will almost definitely be Carnival on Trinidad & Tobago in February. I have a friend there, I’ve never been, and I have enough Delta miles for a free domestic flight to and from Florida, which will keep the cost down, so why not?

04. I love Japanese food (fortunately), but I do get tired of it after a while. I do not, on the other hand, ever get tired of Mexican.

05. I’ve been to Universal Studios Japan, but not Universal Studios in America. Universal Studios Japan, incidentally, is the source of some of the best pizza in the country.

06. I speak English, Japanese, and Spanish. My Japanese is proficient, though not what I would call fluent, and I’m currently reviving my Spanish after several years away. I’ve also dabbled in Cantonese and Hungarian.

07. I love Tokyo because I’m familiar with it and I know people there, but I actually think Osaka is a more interesting (and fun) city.

08. I’m something of a planner. I really love the process leading up to departure and I have a lot of fun working out where I’m going to go and how I’m going to get there. I don’t feel compelled to stick religiously to my plans, but it’s sort of a hobby nonetheless.

09. I have no real desire to go to France. I do, on the other hand, really want to go to Cambodia.

10. I said my next international adventure should be Trinidad, and that’s true, but the big plan I’m starting to work on is a major solo trip to Europe next spring. I want to save up the money and spend at least 6 weeks traveling through central Europe, probably also stopping in England to see a friend in Oxford. I honestly can’t think of anything more exciting.

Me (right) and a friend in yukata at Matsuyama's summer night market.

Every country has its own images of summer. As an American, mine include lemonade, state fairs, and the smell of fresh cut grass, though your mileage may vary. Summer in Japan, in comparison, is characterized by the likes of kakigori (shaved ice, sometimes topped with sweetened condensed milk) and yukata (light summer kimono, traditionally made of cotton, though both of mine are polyester). Both of these things can be found in abundance at summer festivals and markets.

On Saturday 7/16, I got together with two friends and we went out to wear yukata and eat kakigori at Matsuyama’s summer night market. If you, like most foreigners and roughly half the Japanese population, are unfamiliar with southern Japan, Matsuyama is the capital of Ehime prefecture and the biggest city on Shikoku. It’s also where I live, though that will be changing soon when I finish my English teaching gig and return to the United States. And the night market is an annual summer event, held every Saturday from mid-June through July. It’s a lot of fun, if extremely crowded, and a great way to experience a Japanese festival on a smaller scale.

Running the length of Gintengai and Okaido, Matsuyama’s connected covered shopping arcades, the night market is packed with stalls selling everything from fried chicken to AKB48 posters. Maybe a third of the people there, from toddlers to old ladies, can be seen in yukata or jinbei (another casual traditional outfit, consisting of a matching jacket-like top and shorts), children clamber to play games that typically involve catching things out of pools of water, and the stores in the arcade offer extended hours and summer sales in a bid to draw in extra business. It’s loud, it’s colorful, it’s bright, it’s packed and, despite the inevitable heat and humidity, it’s worth ducking and dodging through crowds in search of the perfect kakigori. I like strawberry and cola flavors, myself. And, best of all, if you just go to look and soak up the atmosphere and experience, it’s free!

Little carnival-style games are always a hit with kids.

I know Matsuyama isn’t exactly high on Japan travel destination lists – I didn’t even know where it was before I was sent here and I’d lived in Japan before – so most people will never visit. But it is a really great city with a lot to do and, if you happen to find yourself here in midsummer, you should definitely check out the night market. While I know not everyone is so adventurous, if you want to go the extra mile dressing up in a yukata for the evening is like topping off an outfit with a good hat: it just ties the whole thing together and makes it that much more memorable. If you do take the yukata route, be sure to pop into an arcade at some point to do purikura (elaborate photo booths particularly popular among teenage girls) because it will only set you back ¥400 and the photo stickers are a fantastic souvenir. I have quite the collection from my time here and something about them just screams Japan, even to people who have never been.

All in all? While I wouldn’t go so far as to say this is worth a special trip, because there are similar markets and festivals all over the country, if you’re already in Ehime it’s an excellent way to spend a Saturday evening. Follow it up with some karaoke and you’re set.

A popular kakigori stall with cute, reusable plastic cups.

Cost: Free! A kakigori will cost ¥200 to ¥400 depending on the vender.

Hours of Operation: Every Saturday from mid-June through July, in the evening. It starts picking up around 17:00 and finishes at 21:00.

How to Get There: Go to Matsuyama City Station (松山市駅) and the entrance to Gintengai is right there. Note: There are two Matsuyama Stations, but one is JR Matsuyama and that’s not where you want to go.

Address: Gintengai and Okaido, Matsuyama, Ehime

The Umeda Sky Building from below.

Located right in the heart of Osaka, a 10-minute walk from Osaka-Umeda Station, the Umeda Sky Building (梅田スカイビル) is on my list of places you must go in Kansai. Completed in 1993, it’s the seventh-tallest building in the city and offers one of the most amazing city views I’ve ever seen anywhere.

Now, I can’t blame anyone who’s never done this because, honestly, I didn’t go until my fourth trip to Osaka on May 7th of this year. And I only went then because my mother, who was in Japan for the first time, loves architecture and had read about it in a Japan travel guide. I’d seen the building before, of course, but my prior trips to Osaka had been pretty focused and it had never occurred to me to look up the strange, ultramodern skyscraper, let alone check it out.

This was definitely an oversight on my part.

Through the glass of the up escalator.

The building itself is two forty-storey skyscrapers that connect at the top two floors, with bridges and escalators crossing the center. It’s 173 meters (568 feet) tall and you get to the top by riding most of the way up in a glass elevator, and then switching to a glass escalator for the last few floors. That elevator, by the way, moves very fast and feels a little bit like a thrill ride, which I liked and my sister didn’t. If you don’t like that stomach dropping feeling, just be prepared for it and take a deep breath because the ride doesn’t last long. The rooftop is the Floating Garden Observatory, which gives you an open-air 360-degree panoramic view of Osaka. And that view is spectacular.

We went in the early evening, when it was still pretty light out, but it’s open until 10:30 and I’ve been told that the sunset view, as well as the night view with all the city lights, are equally amazing. In our case, it was also a lovely late spring day and I suspect the effect would be dampened by bad weather, so rainy season (early June to mid-July) might not be the best time of year to plan a visit. You could get lucky and be there on a clear day, but there’s also a good chance it would be a deluge and you’d just feel drowned.

No matter when you plan your trip to Osaka, though, I can’t recommend the Umeda Sky Building highly enough. It’s not a big time commitment (we were in and out in about an hour), it’s not a big expense, and you won’t get a view like that anywhere else. Even though I’ve done it, I would totally go again, probably at sunset or after dark for a different experience.

Absolutely gorgeous.

Cost: ¥700 for adults, ¥500 for high school/junior high school students, ¥300 for elementary school students

Hours: 10:00 to 22:30 (last entrance at 22:00)

How to get there: Exit Osaka-Umeda Station on the Yodobashi Camera side and walk straight towards First Kitchen. At First Kitchen turn left and go straight. You’ll walk through an underpass and the building will be right there. It’s about a 10-minute walk and you can’t miss it.

Address: 1-1-88, Oyodonaka, Kita-ku, Osaka