a pie and a hike

On Saturday evening there was a muted response to my shepherd's pie (which felt absurdly simple - one brown dish instead of the usual array). And a few rice balls had to be sneaked onto the table for everyone to feel satisfied. But the apple crumble I followed it with went down a storm (amid total disbelief that I could have used 150g of butter in just one dish); the platter was licked clean. So I count it as a success.

Sunday was my official day off (taken rather guiltily as Yohei and Kayo could have done with my help with their wild-boar-trashed rice harvest, but sanctioned by Shigeo). If I had wanted to explore the Chūgoku Mountains, on the border of Hiroshima and Shimane prefectures, it would have been logistically impossible without a car. So Shigeo suggesting a walk there was a gift falling out of the sky. Once again all I had to say with "Yes, please" and "Thank you".

As we set off Shigeo revealed that it would be a 2-hour drive to our starting point - because where we live is relatively low, not like mountainous Gifu where I was previously. Hence a hefty schlep needed to get to anything of any height. Four hours of driving for a 3-hour walk? Bummer. But it at least gave me a view of Hiroshima prefecture: the dead-flat paddies and densely built countryside, progressively narrower valleys as we drove closer to the mountainous "spine" of the West Japan peninsula. And the journey gave an opportunity to chat. I learned a bit more about the politics of agriculture: how eating patterns have changed (from 3 rice meals a day to just one as bread is typically eaten at breakfast and noodles for lunch). With the decrease in rice consumption to a third of what it was 50 years ago, the government imposed on farmers a maximum of 70% of land to be used for rice. This figure has been relaxed somewhat - Shigeo's veg represents around 25% of his 5 hectares. (He gets a much higher revenue from the veg but it represents 80% of time and energy; the veg and egg production both 10%.)

Declining rice prices mean farming is becoming increasingly marginal. Older farmers simply wait until the next big mechanical repair makes it uneconomic to continue, and then cease farming. In Shigeo and Keiko's village the declining population means the village school has closed, and the Japan Agriculture (JA) agency - useful for Shigeo for tools - no longer exists.

Around us, on near-vertical slopes, was a mantle of universally dense forest, including the high-value kinoki (googling on "japanese hinoki tree" brings up some images) that I also saw around Kashimo. Shigeo's father and grandfather planted extensively, in their time, and the trees are now mature. But what would once have been a small fortune has diminished in value as cheap imports replace local wood. It now costs virtually the value of the wood to harvest it. So, when he built his current house 20 years ago, Shigeo did the whole felling and extracting operation himself.

The Chūgoku area is a series of 1200m-ish mountains and ravines enswathed with virgin forest of Japanese beeches (the most southern limit), oaks, horse chestnuts, and ferns. Mt Hiba, part of "Hiba-Dogo-Taishaku Quasi-National Park", is mentioned in the oldest Japanese chronicle, "Kojiki", and we walked past what is said to be the grave of one of the gods buried there.

Shigeo had told me how mountain hiking is the activity of choice for the 50+ age group. Once retired, many make it their mission to climb the "100 best peaks" that have been featured in a recently published book. (For Shigeo this would be completely impossible - e.g. a day's travel each way to get to Hokkaido, and only a handful of days when he can take time off from the farm.)

And yes, Japanese middle age was there in force, this being an idyllic sunny day with searing red maples heralding the way for the famed autumn show. Ninety per cent of the women were wearing T-shirts on top of long-sleeved shirts, and shorts on top of leggings. I didn't see anyone other than me with bare arms. In 23 degrees. When I commented on how over-dressed everyone seemed, Shigeo told me it was "the Japanese way", and how odd it seems to him when woofers working in the heat of summer strip off, though he knows this is "their way". He thinks the Japanese tolerate variations in temperature better than Europeans. Who can say - but I have plenty of evidence that the Japanese are calibrated differently to Europeans, and I swear no one was sweating like I was!

On the walk, once again I was wholly out of control: any map would have been difficult for me to use, given the language problem. But, in any case, Shigeo took the view that there was no need for one in this low-mountain area. So, by asking other walkers, and using the (Japanese, obviously) way marks, we made a circuit that climbed up and down woodland paths, with one short stretch giving fabulous 360 degree views (see FB photos), before finishing with a rather tedious forestry track. (4.5 hours instead of the 3 hours planned. Now where have I had that experience before...?!)

The icing on the cake was a relaxing soak in the onsen in the hotel right next to the car park, before the drive back home - where 12 people were gathered for a farewell meal for Kayo. She'll be leaving for her mother's next week, to have her first baby; common practice in Japan. (Yohei will be present for the birth, confident that the Shinkansen bullet train will speed him down to Kyushu at the appropriate time.)