Our journey was longer than expected. We flew Qatar Airlines from Dublin to Doha (Qatar) and onwards to Osaka in Japan but delays leaving Dublin meant that we missed our connecting flight in Doha.

We weren’t the only ones with missed flight connections. The escalating situation and volatile skies over the Middle East meant that lots of flights were delayed, cancelled or diverted. Doha is a big international hub with connecting flights radiating in all directions and that night it was chaotic with hundreds (maybe thousands) of passengers milling around, all wanting to be somewhere else. After queueing for hours at one Transfer Desk, we were moved to another emergency Transfer Desk that was set up in a different part of the airport to cope with the huge numbers of displaced passengers.   Finally we were booked on the next available flight to Japan which was in 24 hours. The  bad news was that there were no hotels available as the allocation for delayed passengers was already filled. Others fared much worse – people going to Auckland were told that that next  available flight for them was in  three days.

Qatar Airline staff advised us to try again later for a hotel  when other passengers might have checked out and in the meantime we were given a meal voucher so that we could ‘rest and replenish’ in the words of the man at the Transfer Desk. There wasn’t much replenishing as the ‘meal’ voucher was valid for tea/coffee and little else. All sandwiches/rice meals were beyond the price range. The staff in the restaurant were very nice, advising us that the best  way to spend our vouchers was to get the ‘specials’ (falafels and soggy chips). They had plenty of experience as the situation had been even more chaotic the night before.

Doha airport is enormous.  The shuttle bus  from the plane took at least 35 minutes to reach the terminal building.  There were people curled up in every corner trying to sleep.  Segregated ‘quiet’ rooms were available with recliners.  Both of us were lucky enough to grab a recliner in our respective male and female rooms but they weren’t really ‘quiet’.  Phones were going off, people were coming and going, there were chatters, snorers, coughers and sneezers.  Plenty of smoking rooms were available for the smokers, segregated prayer rooms for the religious but not a bar in sight for the drinkers🥂

At around 6am, we made our bleary-eyed way to  join another queue for the service desk and after an hour, we were allocated a hotel room but…. we had to join another queue to get the voucher printed. Then more queues for immigration followed by hanging around for a bus to take us to our hotel where our room wasn’t ready for another two hours.

We were delighted to be out of the airport. There was a faint smell of spices, maybe turmeric, in the hot dry air. After the air-conditioned airport, the 39 degree heat was a shock, a solid, shimmering wall in a flat landscape.  Doha looked brand new, as if it was made yesterday with skyscrapers, minarets and new roads rising out of the desert sands.

Our hotel, Hotel Royal Riviera,  was much better than we expected, with a spacious bedroom, hot showers and plentiful tasty food, a buffet breakfast, lunch and dinner. There was an absolutely fabulous selection of dessert cakes at lunch and dinner….the most delicious syrupy orange cake that I have ever tasted and superb chocolate brownies topped with roasted pistachios –  it was so good that if we are delayed in Doha on the return journey home, I won’t mind.

At about 10.30am, we  fell on the  hotel bed into a deep sleep for a few hours, waking in a jet lagged stupor to walk to the National Museum of Qatar.  White taxis kerb- crawled beside us wanting to take us on a city tour which we kept declining. The museum was a breath-taking building with interlocking disc inspired by the desert rose, a geological phenomenon formed by the deposition of minerals in a circular pattern around sand grains Built on the shores of the Arabian Gulf, the museum was as stunningly beautiful inside as it was outside and is well worth a visit…if you ever find yourself stranded in Doha.

Our flight to Japan departed Doha at the ungodly hour of 1.30am. With a nine-hour flight and a six-hour time difference, we arrived with addled body clocks at 5.30pm into a cloudy Osaka (23C). In contrast to Doha, the airport was calm with orderly queues and much bowing by the courteous staff. We were first fingerprinted, then given a 12 week visitor visa  at passport control. After two nights and almost three days, we had arrived.

An efficient train brought us directly from the airport to Namba station in the city centre for about €6. Google maps guided us from there to our hotel, through narrow laneways, over humpbacked bridges crossing the canal and then onto wider streets which felt clean, safe and welcoming. We liked Osaka immediately.  The large number of cyclists  surprised us, most of them cycling on the footpath.  Many had small kids on the back carriers and shopping in the baskets on the front. All pedestrians and cyclists stopped on red lights even if nothing was coming from any direction. This adherence to rules was something that Caoimhin found quite a challenge and it’s entirely possible that we will find out what the sanctions for jaywalking are before we leave.

Our hotel, Be-zen Shimanouchi, was on a small, quiet street and had a big,comfortable futon-bed, both a shower and a bath and an incredible number of  complimentary beauty products (even a face mask which was not as rejuvenating as anticipated) all for €64. There was no extra charge for the change of date  from the night before which we really appreciated.  A guest who had come from Tokyo said that his hotel room here was double the size, twice as nice and half the price.

The following morning, it was time to pick up the campervan from Zen Campers. Our van was exactly as shown online, a beige, ‘no-frills’ van conversion which seemed perfectly adequate for us. Deciding to park it up for the night in the Zen office parking lot for free , we explored Osaka.  The city has two main tourist attractions which are very different. One is a crowded street full of towering neon signs and tourist shops,  the other is a spectacular five-story fairytale castle with almost 450 years of history.

The atmosphere was tranquil as we strolled in sunshine  around the large castle park with gorgeous views of the thick castle walls.  There were  lots of meandering families, bicycles, stalls selling bonsai plants and a violinist playing near an old bridge over the moat. This was in complete contrast to the madness of Dotonbori. This area  was teeming with tourists trying to take photos of flashing billboards, the most famous of the Running Man which has glowed over the area for more than eighty years. We jostled along in the crowds before drinking an overpriced beer in a bar where half the people were smoking inside (that’s a blast from the past).

On the way back to our van we walked through quiet, clean streets. Walking past a woman pushing a stroller, we were surprised to see that there was a robot baby in the stroller. I googled the image from the photo we took and the robot is called a Lovot and can be taught to love you.

Sunday morning dawned bright, sunny and much warmer than we expected for early October with temperatures of  30C. We wanted to leave Osako but we weren’t sure where to go. On a whim we decided to head south towards the island of Shikoku, the smallest of the four main islands in Japan and to leave a visit to historic Kyoto  until the end of our trip.

The roads were reasonably busy leaving Osaka but the drivers were courteous. The road signs were in both English lettering and Japanese symbols and best of all, the Japanese drive on the left side on the road, the same as at home. On the highway, one city blended into the next, almost without a pause. There were  some long suspension bridges linking  islands. Japan is a country of islands  and engineering. Although there are only four main islands in Japan, there are hundreds of smaller islands often used as stepping stones to join one with the other. The price for such fantastic infrastructure was pretty hefty tolls (eye-watering at times), some of which could only be paid for with cash or pre-registered toll-cards. It’s essential if you’re even slightly off the beaten track to have some hard cash in your pocket. ATMs are widely available for withdrawing yen  Many of the small family restaurants and even the bakery in Osaka only accepted cash.

Soon the cities were behind us and we were looking at the green, tree-clad mountains of Shikoku Island. We headed to Kamiyama because we had heard that it was a rural idyll and because a man from Tramore lived there,  the son of a friend of Caoimhin’s and a fellow GiY enthusiast(Grow It Yourself). Manus had set up a small craft brewery in Kamiyama which had won awards and was open on Sundays…..a good enough reason to go in that direction. We found the brewery (Kamiyama Brewery) sampled some really great beers  and although Manus wasn’t there, there was a  campsite nearby in a glorious setting  among tall trees by a river.  We  parked our van, really delighted to be in Kamiyama.

 We met up with Manus the following day at his brewery. He and his wife, Sayaka, a Japanese artist, set up home with their two young children in Kamiyama, a small spread-out town in a valley surrounded by green,forested mountains. It also has an unexpected vibrancy, rural but not sleepily provincial. There was even a bakery selling sourdough baguettes. Manus and Sayaka came about ten years ago to participate in an artist’s hub that was being set up in the town. They were so charmed by the place that they stayed. We could certainly see the appeal.

Manus and Sayaka were so lovely,  giving us lots of useful tips for our trip and treating us to lunch at a pop-up restaurant where every Monday, a local organic farmer makes a big pot of curry using her own produce, sets up a table or two outside her house and sells a delicious lunch. The farmer-cook was also funny and charming, and very proud of her home-grown garlic(like Caoimhin). So many Japanese rural towns are dying because of an aging population and a rapidly declining birth rate.  Kamiyama is bucking the trend with an influx of younger people looking for a better, more sustainable way of life.  Many companies based in Tokyo even have an outreach office in thriving Kamiyama, which has  just built a large Polytech school which should encourage more people come and stay in this beautiful area.

The Japanese love their Onsens, hot spring thermal baths which are found all over the country. These are much more than a place to have a good soak, they are  part of Japanese culture. There was an onsen down the road by the river from our campsite so we decided to visit. At the entrance, there were many signs in Japanese which we didn’t understand  but there was also a drawing of a tattooed torso with a big x through it, informing clients that anyone with tattoos wasn’t welcome. Leaving our shoes in a locker inside the door, we entered a large foyer with a  pale-green carpet and a long counter where we paid the entrance fee (about €3) and rented some tiny white towels. I walked through the red curtain for the women’s section while Caoimhin disappeared behind the blue curtain. It was quite intimidating. I wasn’t quite sure what to do although Manus had given us some instructions.  It was mid-afternoon, a quiet time at the baths,  I was by myself in the large changing room so I couldn’t follow the example of anyone else.

I stripped naked and holding  my little white towel (slightly bigger than a handkerchief) i pushed through the swing door into the onsen. The air was hot, humid and slightly steamy , there were two elderly nude women sitting on chairs inside the door, with the tiny white towels folded into a square on their heads. I knew that it was important to wash before going into the baths and that foreigners are often scrutinised to ensure that they give themselves a thorough soaping and that they rinse off the soap properly. A woman covered in soapy suds sat on a stool in front of a mirror and used a spray-hose to rinse her body. Then she filled a small blue plastic basin with water, stood up and threw the contents on the stool and floor a couple of times before waddling towards one of the bubbling baths with the little towel folded on her head.  I sat on another small stool and did likewise. The little towel is for wiping yourself down after the bath but etiquette demands that  it should never touch the bath water. That’s why it is folded on the head or left on the side of the bath.

The water was hotter than expected when I slid into the bath (no splashing allowed) and it took a while to get used to it  but soon I was relaxed…..and very shrivelled.

Kamiyama also has another attraction. It is on the famous Shikoku pilgrimage of the 88 Buddhist temples. This is a circuitous route, about 1200kms long around the island of Shikoku. Pilgrims are very recognisable by their conical hats, white robes and wooden staffs. We had seen a few walking (and hobbling)  along  the roads. Hopefully in the next week or so, we will visit some of the eighty eight temples either by walking or by campervan and find out more about this ancient pilgrimage

Apologies for such a long post …if you reached this far, thanks for your stamina.

じゃあね。Jāne.

‘Till next time🥰