As I emerged out of Indira Gandhi International Airport the crowd was bewildering and frightening the way it closed around me in a tight ring. I stood unnerved. Slowly I gained composure and insight. I realized it was due to my being a foreigner. They were taxi drivers and may be people from hotels wanting to assist me in finding a suitable one. This was my maiden trip to India, the fabled land but my colleagues had sufficiently filled me in with necessary details about how to reach the hotel booked for me. Therefore I did not need any assistance and I politely told them so. They didn’t hear my voice in the din so I had to raise my voice. I had to shout but they seemed impervious.
One sundry sultry evening in August last week just in passing my husband mentioned that he was required to go to Japan on 16th of September for an inspection. Hearing this I jumped with excitement. He admonished me in his characteristic style emphatically reminding me that it was a short solo official trip to an unheard of industrial town. I said I knew and was excited for him. The routine dullness evaporated at once leaving in its wake a pulsating atmosphere. Like a man on a mission, impromptu, I got into a planning mode. A checklist took shape in my mindscape along with PERT. Visa would be needed, yens, air ticket but first a dummy ticket to be attached with Visa application. How to get it? Through a travel agent. Read about places to see around and local modes of transport in Japan.
Through enquiry from family and friends found a travel agent, asked if he could provide dummy tickets. His voice and tone were cultivated professional and reassuring, “Just leave everything to us”. Nevertheless, I checked all the sites for airline tickets. Found Korean Airline round trip ticket at thirty five thousand rupees only. Armed with this information I enticingly requested my husband to let me come with him. Wonder of wonders! He agreed. Then on, my computer worked overtime to support my quest and queries. My merchant navy cousin furnished firsthand account. I checked the weather, availability of vegetarian food, local food, traditions, suitable dress code, acceptability of Dollars, Yen-Dollar-Rupee conversion rates, tourist attractions, extant of knowledge of English among locals, range of problems one could face because of not knowing Japanese and above all the conservative Japanese etiquette.
Having gleaned all the information I didn’t need the travel agent. Fortunately all necessary official documents arrived on time and also the Visa. Both of us had got multiple entry Visas valid for five years. The only setback I suffered was doubling up of the price of my air ticket during the days I waited for my Visa.
Judiciously we packed five shirts and two trousers each and some food to be prepared for non-availability of veg options: forty kachoris, a packet of almonds and some spicy crisp peanuts. Procured only Dollars but no Yens.
The eagerly awaited date dawned. Inflated like a balloon with the underplayed unexpressed thrill, all set with nail paint on the last toe nail I riding on cloud nine reached the airport. There is a special thrill in showing the passport to the security person at the entrance. With bubbles of joy bursting and tickling my stomach we moved towards the plane. A sweet song and smiling crew welcomed us. Korean airhostesses had pearl like lustrous faces. I had a window seat but night was setting in. The Hindu Vegetarian dinner comprised of spinach mushroom, paneer and rice was steaming hot and spicy. The big chunk of pineapple was immensely enjoyable. With a Gregory Peck film on screen and a shawl wrapped around I slept in snatches to wake up to a mundane breakfast. The pilot announced landing at Incheon, Korea. Incheon airport was bright and beautiful with serene pines and abundance of gay orchids but we had to run to reach the gate for our next connecting flight to Fukuoka. On reaching the appointed gate we relaxed, took pictures capturing the exotic orchids and used the washrooms. The toilet was so high tech that I was a tad nervous about using it. The washing options were varied and became more complex due to the speed regulators. I was surprised to see Indian toilet seat was also available in a couple of cubicles. I should have brushed my teeth because on reaching Fukuoka we traveled more than sixty kilometers to reach Station Hotel Kokura only to be told that check in is at 2:30pm.
A short one hour flight took us to Fukuoka, Japan. After tough immigration ritual which put us under scanner as fugitive suspects and managed to make us sufficiently nervous we emerged out of the airport and met a young Japanese person. It was really a big relief to meet our handsome happy welcoming Japanese friend. His presence, warm smile and friendliness made us feel secure and comfortable. We talked animatedly about our flight and immigration while waiting for our compatriot companion. He came out wet with profusion of nervous sweat and apparently moved. At my behest he wiped his sweat, took two deep breaths and regained composure. He said the immigration officer had made him open his entire luggage and asked him detailed questions.
Our Japanese friend asked if we had the Yen-the Japanese currency with us and knowing we did not have any he propelled us towards money exchange desk. Having converted Dollars to Yens we went out. He was very agile and quick in his movements. We followed suit. He told us to board a bus and with surprising ease we were able to board the bus with our luggage and found comfortable seats. We were instructed to draw out a ticket as we entered the bus and that we will have to pay for the ticket while getting down. Many useful announcements were constantly being made in a very sweet cultured voice alternatively in Japanese and English. English pronunciation was slightly accented and needed us to attune our ears so that we could grasp the meaning. As the bus took us through Fukuoka I intently peered out. I saw street was lined with Ginko trees. The pavements and street were clean and the buildings neat. We paid around 140 Yens for the bus ticket.
We got down from the bus and entered the station to catch the fabled fast bullet train - Shinkansen to Kokura. I was looking around hungrily to capture as many details as I could. We were directed towards the wending machine for buying our tickets. Each ticket cost more than 2000 Yens. So we realized how dear a short ride of fifteen minutes was in the fast train. The expanse of the concourse was wide. We moved towards our appointed platform. Escalators were dizzily whizzing up and down carrying their huge loads. With my scare of escalators I spied beyond for a simple nonthreatening lift and found it soon with the help of convenient markers. What pleased me was the ease with which I could locate it and its cleanliness. In Europe and America also I had to look for elevators to avoid escalators but it took some effort to locate them and found those reeking of urine and as filthy as toilets in cinema theatres of small towns in India.
We waited for our train which came at the right time. We admired the sleek aerodynamic engine and then let the first six reserved coaches pass before boarding our unreserved seventh coach. We found place to sit and kept our bags with us because we had to get down at the next station. Sitting inside the smooth running train it was difficult to feel its speed. Our Japanese friend informed us that till our station 50km away the train picked up a speed of 200km/hour only and did not reach its maximum speed of 320km/hour. Looking out I saw tall buildings, smoke spewing factories, tiny single storey residences with small yards planted with fruit trees, flowering plants, climbers, dainty wines and hanging baskets. I particularly loved the fruit trees bearing healthy fruits. I saw clothes drying almost in all homes quite like in India, so I gathered that it was an Asian trait. The buildings all looked clean and well maintained. Interestingly the smoke was not black but grayish white. Our friend whisked us to stand ready to get down from the train. From inside the moving train I saw a really tall building resembling Taj annex behind my college in Bombay. It was a Luxury Hotel Ricah. Our friend showed us Station Hotel Kokura also from the train.
We got down at Kokura station and stepped right into a gay fun fair in the station concourse. White stalls selling a great variety of flavored teas, cute five toed socks, jewelry, home utility stuff, artificial flowers stood inviting. There was a stage in the centre on which local artists were dancing. The performances were also being shown on a huge screen above. The dress, hairstyles, shoes, music and moves of the dancers were inspired by Michael Jackson and other pop stars. Our Hotel entrance was inside the station concourse. We went down to the reception and were politely informed that check-in will be at 2:30pm. It was 10:30am then so we kept our luggage in the cloak room next to the reception and waited in the waiting room for a while. I needed to use the toilet and may be the others also. I went to the toilet. As I opened the door the lid of the commode lifted up. I cautiously lowered myself on it after inspecting and getting reassured of the cleanliness. The seat felt warm as if somebody had just got up from it but there was no one around. On one side I noticed a panel with certain markings. On paying attention I understood the details shown on the panel; it offered me three flushing options, two three washing options along with desired speeds. I could select full flush or eco or oscillating, in washing options I could wash my rear by selecting the option graphically displayed as two semicircles indicating hips with a water spout hitting right in the middle or I could use the bidet option to wash the front. After a hi-tech clean experience I joined the others with a happy benign demeanor and disposition. They were having tea from a dispenser kept there. I told my choice of coffee which our friend made for me. Our friend suggested that we go out to explore and took us out. He walked very fast and thankfully we could match steps with him. He took us to a nearby market. We noticed that the whole street was covered with fiberglass so that natural light was not obstructed. The sky was overcast hinting at imminent rain. And as we came out of the covered market lanes on to a bridge over a creek it started drizzling. Our friend asked us to get into a covered supermarket to avoid getting wet. Where we entered was the groceries section and our attention was caught by large radishes. So large were those that we took a picture and my husband put his pen on one radish so that one could compare its size and get the correct picture. While we ogled at other vegetables like pumpkins, mushrooms, okra and aubergines it stopped raining so we went out. This market was in a multi-storey building which enclosed a circular open space. A city bus was exhibited here in the circular visitors’ arena. Around the exhibit was an artistic shallow circular pond like a border. It was six seven feet broad but only six inches deep. It was an interesting design element. I took a few pictures quickly because the others were already moving towards the bridge. From the bridge Kokura Castle became visible. It was an old building made of stone and wood and painted white and possessed the old world charm. We posed and clicked pictures. Then our friend told us that we can go right up to the castle and I jumped at the prospect. We entered a tall majestic wooden gate and our Japanese friend told us that it was believed that the God walked in the centre of the cobbled stone path and so we should walk on the sides. It was a nice walk uphill in the shade of aged trees along the moat. On the way there was an ancient shrine with bells. We went and bowed our heads in reverence. We were sweating profusely on reaching the base of the castle. There were benches for the visitors where we sat down after taking pictures and looking around. The castle was on a hill top so we got a 360 degree view of Kokura town. We were all quite tired and it almost check-in time so we went back. After a simple lunch of kachoris and pickles we rested for a few hours.
A few hours rest and a bath rejuvenated us and we were ready to explore the night sights. Our friend was waiting for us. We needed an adapter to be able to charge our phones and so we were guided to a huge store. We walked on a skywalk to reach this store. On the entrance were proudly displayed the jersey of Baseball team of Soft Bank. Our son works for the same so we took pictures with the display. Inside a whole world of electrical and electronics items lay before us but surprisingly we were not tempted to either look at things or buy those. Our friend bought it saying he needed it and we could borrow it from him while we were there. This was a sweet gesture and well appreciated by us.
Our Japanese friend had lived in India for two years and so he understood our concept of vegetarian food that most Japanese did not comprehend. He took us to Saizeriya and ordered potato wedges, plain pizza and pasta for us. We finished it with tea and I was pleasantly surprised to know that we could have as many refills of our drink as we wanted. We sauntered across bright white light washed streets, pavements and ornate bridges before calling it a day.
Reposing complete trust in our friend we followed him like his pet kittens. Next morning he took us to Moji-ko, Kitakyushu by the train. Mojiko - Moji Port - is a port in the city of Kitakyushu, in Fukuoka prefecture, and is strategically located at the narrowest point of the Kanmon Straits that separate Kyushu Island from the main island of Honshu. Mojiko developed into a major international and domestic port at the end of the 19th century. Since the opening of Mojiko as a modern, new port, the area around old Mojiko port has been turned into a tourist attraction as "Mojiko Retro."Mojiko was small enough to be explored on foot.
Mojiko (Moji Port), Kitakyushu, Kyushu
Mojiko Station - The terminus of the first railway line built in Kyushu, Mojiko Station is the most likely place of arrival for visitors. Built in 1914 it is one of the few remaining large wooden stations in Japan and was the first station to be listed as a national Cultural Property. Mojiko Station is built in a Neo Renaissance style and is claimed to be based on the old Termini Station in Rome. Until 2018 the station is undergoing major renovations and was shrouded in scaffolding but we could get a glimpse of the building from the side.
1km north of Mojiko is the Mekari area. From here we could see ships that pass through the straits and Kanmonkyo Suspension Bridge joining Kyushu to Honshu, and Mekari Shrine, the northernmost shrine in Kyushu.
The Kanmon Bridge links Kitakyushu in Kyushu with Shimonoseki in Honshu.
A pedestrian 700 meter long tunnel goes 60 meters under the sea from Kyushu to Honshu. It has completed 60 years since commissioning but looks as good as new with no water seepage marks on the wall or the floor. We walked across and after exploring Kanmon Warf came back by a ferry from Shimonoseki for return.
Many wars in 1863 and 1864 were fought to control Shimonoseki Straits of Japan by joint naval forces of Great Britain, France, the Netherlands and the United States, against the Japanese feudal domain of Chōshū, which took place off and on the coast of Shimonoseki. These have been commemorated through a cluster of cannons and many statues on water front which became visible as we came out of the tunnel.
We ran to see the cannons and excitedly took pictures. Then we went to Kanmon Warf and walked along the water. A woman was making her monkey perform acrobatics ahead. So we sat down to watch. The woman was shouting instructions to her trained monkey on a loud speaker. We did not understand Japanese so couldn’t appreciate how well the monkey followed her orders but of course we were impressed with the feats the monkey carried out to perfection such as long jumping, precision jumping, walking on poles, balancing etc. The woman came to collect money from onlookers after the show and on our behalf our Japanese friend paid when he saw we were reluctant. I wanted an ice cream but when I was told that their forte was oyster I turned back. Our friend however was quite tempted to taste it. I settled for the tame and tested butterscotch. We took the ferry and it took only about five ten minutes to cross the strait. Then we came back without stopping for lunch. We had our Indian kachories for lunch and hit the bed for much needed rest before the dinner date.
Our friend took us to a Japanese restaurant where we could cook our own food on the table. They got us slices of yellow, green, red bell peppers, sweet potato, aubergine, and washed okras and mushrooms which we dry roasted on wire gauze kept on burning charcoal grill. Right on top of the grill was a chimney to ease out the smoke. They gave us spicy salt and olive oil to sprinkle on the grilled vegetables. We enjoyed the food and the experience a lot. After taking a few photos with the over welcoming staff of the friendly restaurant we walked back through an ornamental bridge to our hotel.
Next day was a full work day for my husband so I was on my own. I went for slow stroll to find gifts to carry home. Our friend had suggested the Dollar store so after looking through many shops I went there. It was a large store and had interesting things ranging from home utilities, cookies, chocolates, stationary, cosmetics and decorative lights. I sifted through very carefully but did not find anything worth buying mainly for two reasons: one, the cost and second, availability in India. I realized that almost everything was available in India for much less price. Then I went to a large medicine store which also sold toiletries and cosmetics because I wanted to buy a hand cream. There a Chinese shop assistant came to help me. She spoke rudimentary English yet through gestures she tried to help me. I liked her and asked her if she wanted to go back to her own country. Surprisingly she said she did not want to go back to China and preferred to live and work in Japan. I promised to come back the next day to buy what I had selected but next day I found something better and did not go back. I felt guilty but now that cannot be helped.
I went back and had my lunch of kachoris alone thinking my husband would have working lunch. He came back and hungrily attacked the kachoris. I was surprised and asked him, “Did you not have a working lunch?” He replied, “Japanese are very curt. They took us around the factory but did not even offer us tea. Water also they gave on our friend’s suggestion only. During a short tea break we went out and had our own tea. The factory is very efficient and well maintained. They have been producing good quality iron for rails for many years. The factory started from a humble room more than hundred years ago and that room is preserved with great pride. They almost have a monopoly even then they do not take their clients for granted. Unlike Indians who do a shoddy job but when international observers come to inspect they are ready to lick their feet to acquire a positive feedback.” Acquiescing I nodded.
That evening I requested our friend to take us to a Sushi place. He told them that we wanted only vegetarian sushi. We had potato, cucumber and carrot sushi. Of course we did not really relish sushi because it is essentially a raw fish dish.
It was our last day. Husband had a meeting in the evening. In the morning we went for shopping. The fruits and vegetables attracted us the most. Apples, peaches, pears and figs were all really large in size. Though I wanted to buy peaches but we bought apples because three large apples were for 500Yen while only two peaches were for 600 Yen. While traveling to Mojico in the train I had seen small single storied houses along the track with little compounds where there were fruit trees bearing abundant large sized fruits. I had also seen the washing drying in all the homes whether single storey or multi-storey very much like in India.
It being our last evening there we went to see the flood lit castle and the grounds. Then taking a long walk we went to a different Saizeriya and tried slightly more adventurous food. on my insistence we all had a dessert of our choice also to celebrate our maiden Japan trip. We took the loop line monorail, got down at Tanga station to walk back to our hotel.
Early next morning we bid farewell to Station Hotel Kokura and took Shinkansen back to Fukuoka along with the Monday morning crowd. Coming out of the station we waited for the bus. The bus when it came after ten minutes was packed but we managed to get in with our bags because we could not afford to let it go and wait for another ten minutes. It was raining and everyone carried a transparent umbrella. We had bought an umbrella but it was securely packed. We reached the Fukuoka International Airport. I went to look at the duty free shops to make some final buys before my husband went to exchange the remaining Yens for Dollars. For my son I bought a black t-shirt with number one printed in thick gold letters hoping he would like it. Immigration now was cakewalk and soon we boarded the plane. The Korean Airline vegetarian meal was very good. Incheon airport was now familiar and so there was no nervousness. Finally we were on the Delhi flight and were back home.
