next stop Takayama

Leaving the Morimotos was a wrench - Rie's "It was short but deep..." suggesting that what we had shared was mutual. Masan, via a FB photo caption, was harder to decode. The translation read, "Today, Rebecca is gone. Rebecca strangely sentimental, was sometimes sadness last night. Thanks encounter. Under the Oscar sky, goodbye lunch. Thank you." I wonder where "Oscar" came from...

And so I have travelled to Takayama, largely for the autumn festival, which starts on the 9th, but also to explore some historic villages in the surrounding countryside. It's strange being on my own, and fending for myself. Perhaps that's why I've signed up for a couple of tours advertised in the hostel I'm staying at.

Firstly, this morning, a walking tour of the town which finished with sake tasting at one of the five breweries still in production. This area, renowned for the purity of its water and its high quality rice, thinks of itself as a centre of excellence. I learned about sake production, and how the difference in quality is inversely proportional to the percentage of the rice grain that is thrown away (low percentage retained = high quality). Also, that the fermentation process has to be stimulated by the introduction of an enzyme, unlike wine where the natural sugar in the grape is sufficient. Anyway, it was rather drole to be doing the tasting in company with two Parisians, and we all agreed that our interest in sake was probably of the moment and that we'd not be wanting to carry it home with us.

In the preservation area, the low doorways were an Edo-period tax dodge (deceptively spacious and high-ceilinged inside), the characteristic dark-stained wood another ruse to disguise the high-value wood used in the construction. At Shinto shrine entrances the rope garland is decorated with "lightning", to ward off bad weather, and a sheaf of rice, to bring a good harvest.

We were given an explanation for the rather spooky faceless "sarubobo" doll amulet (see FB) that is associated with Takayama: the absence of a face allows the owner to imagine it - when the owner is sad, they can imagine their sarubobo to be sad too. (??)

The second tour, a bus trip to World Cultural Heritage UNESCO village Shirakawago, was a bit of a disappointment, for reasons given on FB. I'm also not at all used to having a time limit: "Be at the bus by 4.00..." It must be pretty hellish living in a community that has over a million tourists tramping around the paths and roads annually...

Back at the hostel, wish me luck: I'm in an 8-bed mixed dorm.