Worth adding to any itinerary
Edo period architecture, lush gardens, gold leaf beating and moss spotting are all good reasons to add this little-known city to your Japan visit, writes Keith Austin.
On checking in at Sydney airport the woman on the Cathay Pacific desk is perplexed. She thought I was going to Kunming. In China. “Komatsu?” she muses. “I don’t think I’ve seen that one before.”
Our ultimate destination is Kanazawa, a city halfway up the spine of Japan and almost as little-known as the airport. We get there via Hong Kong and a 40-minute drive along a highway which hugs the coast and looks out to the Sea of Japan.
And while it might be little-known to anybody but seasoned visitors looking beyond the major tourist destinations, it’s becoming increasingly popular thanks to the bullet train link to Tokyo which arrived in 2015, the further, 125-kilometre link to Tsuruga which opened this year, and plans to extend again to Kyoto and Osaka beyond that.
The capital of Ishikawa Prefecture, with a population of about 500,000, Kanazawa was one of the few major Japanese cities spared destruction by air raids during World War II and is known for its Edo period-style architecture. Easily walkable and unspoilt by an oversupply of tourists, Kanazawa is worth adding to any itinerary.
You could do worse than starting in Kenrokuen (Six Attributes) Garden. Known today as one of the three great gardens of Japan, it was first fashioned as a private garden sometime in the 1600s by the Maeda clan. Organised according to the six attributes of a perfect landscape – spaciousness, seclusion, artifice, antiquity, waterways and panoramas – it sits next to Kanazawa Castle and has 8750 trees.
The garden is notable for its winter yukitsuri, the conical rope arrangements which support certain tree branches and protect them from damage caused by heavy snow. Believe it or not, people visit just to gaze at the different types of moss. Moss anoraks? Moss twitchers? Moss spotters?
The first glimpse of Kanazawa Castle and its typical soaring eaves architecture, is quite something. Sadly for the purists, there’s very little of the original castle buildings left and the reconstructions, though impressive, are quite recent.
Given that the place was started in about 1580, totally reconstructed in 1592 and various bits of it burnt down in 1602, 1631, 1759 and 1881, it’s probably best not to light a gasper in the grounds.
Historically, Kanazawa has been called
Little Kyoto, mainly due to a maze-like and beautifully preserved Geisha district – Higashi Chaya-Gai – that rivals Kyoto’s Gion (but without the crowds).
Built in 1820 as an entertainment area for the upper classes, most of the traditional wooden tea houses are now restaurants, cafes, and souvenir shops but that in no way detracts from its rural charm. The main drag is one of the most photographed streets in Japan. Do check out the Chayu ice cream shop in the main square. Among the bizarre flavours on offer is black charcoal pistachio.
While in Higashi Chaya-Gai, you simply cannot miss the Sakuda Gold Leaf shop. Some 99% of domestic gold leaf is produced in Kanazawa, made by beating gold into sheets one 10,000th of a millimetre thick – so thin that it can disappear at a touch.
A gold coin about the size of a 10c piece can be beaten into a sheet the size of your average Japanese tatami mat. At the Sakuda shop, you can watch the process, take a tour, and get in on the act yourself with a workshop. Gold leaf is chucked at pretty much anything in these parts – including tea, icecream, sushi, soap and face masks.
A short walk from Kenrokuen Garden is the 21st Century Museum, a circular, lowlying building made mostly of plate glass – reflecting transparency, inclusiveness, etc – and showcases a revolving door of modern art that will thrill or drive you to despair. What it won’t be is dull. Expect to be castigated by the somewhat overzealous gallery assistants, who object to gum chewing and pointing.
You will definitely need your pointing finger at the Omicho fish market, though. There has been a version of this market here for close to 300 years and, with 185 stalls along its length, it’s still going strong. Colourful, noisy, hectic, crowded and fishy.
There were things there I wouldn’t know whether to eat, stuff, throw at people, or wear as a hat. This is a total feast and freak show for the senses but be aware that Sundays and Wednesdays can be quiet.
The writer was a guest of InsideJapan Tours and Cathay Pacific.
It was almost the end of September and we still had more of Wales to explore. We were heading for Cardiff but decided to take a short detour to visit the small village of Nelson for the simple reason my travelling companion was from Nelson in New Zealand. What a contrast.
There was no sign of sparkling blue seas here, just dreary streets with a handful of shops, half of which seemed to be closed down. The only colour to be seen was the garishly pointed windowsills and doors. We weren’t tempted to linger.
Nor did we linger long in Cardiff, although it looked an attractive city with nice shops, buildings and parks. As it started to cloud over in the afternoon we made the decision to move on to Barry.
I’d been given the address of a Welsh family whose daughter and family had moved to New Zealand where they were my brother’s next door neighbours. In spite of never setting eyes on us before we two travel-weary strangers were welcomed into their home.
We felt we’d been prejudiced about the drab grey houses joined together in row after row, but although outside theirs looked the same, inside it was pleasant and homely.
They were disappointed they had no room for us to stay as they were already hosting their younger daughter and her two small children. But while we were drinking our cups of tea she suddenly informed us that she’d been mentally working out how they could accommodate us. And that’s what they did, reshuffling beds.
She flatly refused to let us bring our sleeping bags in to sleep on the floor. After six months of travelling even the suggestion of us using our sleeping bag sheets met with a refusal. No, we must have the luxury of proper beds for a change. They seemed delighted that someone who knew their family in New Zealand had visited, although I had barely met their daughter.
So a night of luxury it was as they even insisted that my friend and I shared their comfortable double bed while she moved in with the small children, and her husband was dispatched to the box-room which they laughingly said wasn’t really the dog box. Welsh hospitality at its best.
They insisted on feeding us dinner then drove us across the causeway to Barry Island to see the illuminations, but unfortunately they’d finished for the season. Never mind, the hot chips they’d stopped for on the way back and the hot chocolate for supper they plied us with and their company made up for it. Then we headed upstairs to bed, glorious bed.
And then to be woken in the morning with a cup of tea in bed, followed by breakfast downstairs with the family was a real treat. How tempted we were to accept their pressing invitation to stay another night but the road called so we reluctantly said our farewells wondering if we’d ever see this kind family again.
It was a grey, drizzly morning when we finally set off from Barry heading further west, but as much of the area seemed to be industrial the weather didn’t worry us and by the time we reached the attractive seaside village of Saundersfoot the weather had cleared. It was delightful having time to spend on the beach with its golden sands, not unlike our New Zealand beaches.
Later in the afternoon we reached Tenby, its thick stone walls partly surrounding the town and with views of the remains of a castle. The town stood on a headland separating the little sandy bay of North Beach from South Beach with its long, sweeping bay with the blue sea rolling onto the shore. We enjoyed a quiet stroll on the almost deserted beach until the late afternoon when the sky was tinged with pink and we knew it was time to move on yet again.
The next morning we crossed from Pembroke to Milford Haven on a funny little ferry. The steep cobbled approach to the boat was slippery but our noble minivan, Min, knew her stuff and soon we were safely on board.
We drove onto St Davids, a cathedral city although it was just a tiny village. After poking around the ruins of the Bishop’s Palace and the ancient cathedral we drove out to St David’s Head.
It was wild and rugged and we felt exhilarated as we gazed at the sea rolling in. Before heading to Fishguard we made time to gather blackberries which we smothered with cream for our lunch.
The man at the AA office where we stopped to get a map was interested to learn a bit about New Zealand. He was especially interested to know if Māori had built castles, so we left him with a little more knowledge of our home country than he’d had previously.
It was now October and we were conscious winter was coming but we still had more to see. We headed back towards mid Wales enjoying the drive over hills to the spectacular Devil’s Bridge with its steep tree-lined gorges and rushing streams. After a short stop in Raglan we were briefly back in Llanidloes and finally, late in the afternoon we crossed
over the border back into England, to Kidderminster. Here we spent a night with a Kiwi friend and her family, enjoying a home-cooked meal and luxuriating in a hot bath before curling up in our sleeping bags on their couches.
It was a rushed visit to Birmingham to view its very modern new shopping centre, the most up-to-date we’d seen. It was still only partly constructed and old buildings were being demolished to make way for further development. It was so different from many of the city centres we’d visited and we were impressed with the planning.
From here it was off to Coventry to see the controversial cathedral. What an amazing place. The old building had been almost completely destroyed when the city was badly bombed during the war.
The way they had incorporated the shell of the old structure and the new was inspired. The cross at the altar was made from charred ceiling planks and was inscribed with “Father Forgive.” Even though the place was packed with visitors, the atmosphere was peaceful.
We loved the beautiful stained glass windows but the huge tapestry was stark and even though it was considered a great work of art to my untrained eye it didn’t quite seem to fit. But what a moving expedience it was to view this monument to man’s resilience.
England surely is “a green and pleasant land” and we enjoyed travelling on through more beautiful countryside, through charming villages with pretty cottages and grand homes. We stopped at a country park. It was a fine Sunday afternoon and the locals seemed to be enjoying the fresh air and the elegant looking restaurant was packed. We looked on with envy as “the wealthy types” sat in splendour sipping cups of tea and eating cream buns.
Further on we visited a tiny Norman church at Loxley. I loved its peaceful atmosphere and its simple structure and we had it to ourselves. By then it was late in the afternoon so we decided to park Min for the night in nearby woods.
Before we settled down we walked a short way through the trees until we came across a small clearing, completely circular. In the centre were remains of a fairly recent bonfire. It seemed spooky to me and with unidentified rustles in the undergrowth and an occasional hoot of an owl I didn’t sleep too well.
But we survived and the next morning all seemed normal again but I was pleased when we moved on. Stratford-on-Avon was calling us.
CARBON FOOTPRINT: Flying generates carbon emissions. To reduce your impact, consider other ways of travelling, amalgamate your trips, and when you need to fly, consider offsetting emissions.