The original plan was for an hour and a half hike but this was cancelled. This turned out to be a providential decision as Tan was walking with pain in his leg, and the whole day was wet, wet, wet. If we had hiked, it could have been a showery muddy trudge. This was a sign of God’s care.
A wet day at Narai, an Edo era town with a kilometre long street. (Credits: Judith)Happier friends who were served more quickly and had a good lunch.(Credits: Judith)Soba delicious. (Credits: Judith)
From Hanaya inn we rode cabs to Nagiso Station where they rushed back and forth to see a 200 years old bridge while I had coffee in a souvenir shop opposite the station. Then we took a train to Narai, an Edo period post town in Shiojiri city, Nagano Prefecture. We had an hour or so to explore this old town that was about one kilometer of old houses and temples on both sides of a street. Most shops were selling food or lacquer souvenirs. It drizzled intermittently and I had to use a raincoat. This was where we missed a meal in order not to miss the train. Six of us found a restaurant and ordered our food but unknown to us there were many patrons waiting for their orders ahead of us. When we realized we would be late if we had waited any longer, we cancelled our order and rushed off. Good thing the restaurant allowed it. It was at Shiojiri train station that we finally had our belated lunch.
Rushing at the ticketing booth.These luscious grapes in the greenhouse are to die for.The grapes outside are for plucking but not to die for.Street smart Singaporean women plucked shrewdly. Many green grapes were seen, but few were chosen. That’s why they are still smiling. Ha ha.
The next activity was to go to a vineyard and pluck grapes for a fee. Right in the city! Took a cab there. There was a store next to a greenhouse. The grapes we sampled were superbly large, round and sweet. And expensive. I thought this was what we came to pluck but it was not to be. They brought the women out to where they plucked grapes that were small, green, ripened, and not as sweet nor as crunchy as the samples we had tried. Was this a bait and switch strategy? I don’t know. Anyway the women came back with few branches of grapes. Smart girls. We bought some apples, grabbed a cab to the train station and went to Matsumoto, where we would be re-united with our luggage at Ace Inn. It was an eventful day but one I would rather laugh away or forget. For me a hearty dinner and a good sleep helped me forget the day’s misadventures.
Our forwarded luggage was waiting for us at Ace Inn Hotel in Matsumoto. Nice to have all our stuff back.Nothing like a great dinner at reasonable prices to get everyone smiling again.(Credits: Helen)
Ready in the early morning to depart for Magome, where our hike would begin.
Thursday, 27th October. We began early. One hotel staff measured the sizes of the luggage (charges were by luggage size, not weight) that the takkyubin company would forward to the Ace Inn Hotel in Matsumoto. We would arrive at that hotel the day after our hike. We would only carry a fresh set of clothes for the next day’s hike in our backpack. Cap, sunblock, camera, clothings and jacket, umbrella, torch, raincoat, phone and camera chargers, extra socks and underwear. Packing should be easy but the unknown factors made it a chore burdened by small decisions, “Should I bring this sweater or the fleece? Will I really need this penknife? What if ….?” We determined to travel light but somehow we packed too much stuff.
The journey was about two hours by train and then by bus to Magome. We saw older men and women in hiking gear, hat and backpacks in the train, in the bus, along the trail. During the vacation, we saw old people touring. Old people working outside their homes. Old people sauntering. Japanese people. Old people in the markets, the shopping mall, the streets, the restaurants. Old people making music. None were cleaners. Japan has aged quite well.
Japanese etiquette meant quiet in their trains. But it was difficult to keep Singaporeans quiet when they were all excited about their trip. We tried but failed.The feel of the place reminded me a little of old Lijiang.Charming old world town full of quiet and some elegance.They said the vivid colours had gone and we were looking at the tail end of autumn.
Magome is a picturesque post town that served the route between Tokyo and Kyoto during the Edo era. The quaint exterior of the houses and shops that lined the main street had an understated dignity of a grey haired elder. We had a leisurely walk up well-paved streets lined on both sides with souvenir shops, snack stalls, and old world feel. We snacked in the cool fresh mountain air. We one-two-three clicked clicked along the way. The sun was overhead and the harsh light played havoc on our photos. We were noisy. We looked the part. We had gotten into the carefree spirit of vacation. It was late morning and the hike had not begun until we reached the edge of tourism. Suddenly, our hike picked up energy to make up for lost time. As we plodded upward, we saw less shops but more homes of townsfolk spaced out along the trail.
One two three click. Behold the colours of autumn.Some kind of serious decision about to be made….probably about food. Haha.
It was a walk in the park: eight kilometres with some slopes. About three over hours through the beautiful forest, with some autumn foliage, gurgling streams and crisp fresh air. We enjoyed the moderate hike for the sheer beauty of the scenery, the cool autumn air, the light workout it gave us, and the friendships it strengthened. As we walked along we found ourselves talking with different ones and updated on what went on in each other’s life.
Joy Lian the trip organiser and leader with her “ever by her side” husband, Simon. It helped greatly that she spoke some Japanese!From hereon the real hike began. One final pose with mountain range in the background before we started.We love hiking in the mountains in cool temperatures.Lovely small flowers and bees – this country so scarred by suffering – is beautiful.Ladies on the bridge.Ladies who know how to pose – one two three click.Men standing like wood in the woods. Ha ha.Eye catching vista as we walked a clear path.Some autumn colours to comfort us.Tiny weeny pretty flowers on a wooden handrail.We finally found the Hanaya inn we booked via internet.
We arrived at the outskirts of Tsumago, another post town, and looked for the Hanaya, a traditional Japanese inn whose foundations were laid in the 17th Century. The décor was traditional Japanese with tatami-matted rooms with no attached bathrooms. Bathing and toilet facilities were shared in common – a distinct discomfort for all of us, but one we could manage since it was only for a night. The rooms were spacious but you had to lay out your own bedding and blankets. There were yukatas, the casual kimonos, and we decided to wear them later for the special sumptuous dinner that night. After checking in we quickly met outside to look for food at nearby Tsumago, another post town. A Japanese hiker pointed us in the wrong direction, so it was about 3pm by the time we walloped our soba in Tsumago.
Late lunch: waiting for soba and ramen at Tsumago an old post town. Judith and Chwee Ching knew each other in SAF as women army officers.For sure these were not Japanese women: look at the colours! Resting in front of the inn after returning from town .
We got to see more of the countryside and back at the inn we took our bath, rested a while, put on our yukatas and were slightly late for a lovely, delicious Japanese meal. Besides us there were several angmohs at tables nearby. Lots of laughter, banter, photos, and many many oishis later we were sated and heavily seated.
I have seen this tiny fish before. In Japan hour. Some river fish perhaps that locals are proud of.I was so bad at taking food photos because I eat before I shoot. Most times I’d rather eat while others shoot. Ha ha.Don’t be fooled like me. Its not meat, its rice.He lays a table before us. Bless the Lord O my soul.Six to a table: food and fellowship. Wished I had taken better shots than these in low light conditions .
We clumsily got up after dinner and took many many one-two-three click clicks and ended chatting in the lounge area. I cannot remember what we talked and laughed about. It’s one of those light hearted rounds that went nowhere.
After that sumptuous dinner we posed for this memorable photo. (Credits: Ruby)
The inn had communal baths but I was not sure if anybody used them. I did not. The onsen looked like a 10 feet by 8 feet rectangular bathtub with steaming water. I had an early night – a cold night. The next day there would have been a short hike ….. a hike that we would thankfully cancel for reasons that I cannot recall. Thankful, not because we could laze around. I like hiking. But because it would rain the next day, and we were spared a cold, wet, muddy trudge through the forest. Thank you Lord.
It was a vacation I looked forward to with some anticipation. I had enjoyed my first Japan trip to Kyushu island two years ago. This one was on the main island of Honshu. This was a tour from Nagoya through the famous Tateyama-Kurobe Alpine route to Toyama and Kanazawa and back. Most of us were from the hiking group.
Arrived at Nagoya airport in the early morning
It was a night flight, and for me this meant a sleepless flight, a movie night. I admire those (like my wife) who could sleep despite cramped and upright space. I caught a Korean movie titled, Canola, a grandmother- grandchild story about the transforming power of unconditional love. And surprise, surprise: I did sleep.
Roger, Simon, Tan and me: the men in the group waiting for the bus to the city
When was I going to feel more relaxed, more like I was on vacation? Close to the date of departure, there was the rush to get work done. There was the anxiety of packing right for this mixed hiking and sightseeing jaunt. Even after landing in Nagoya in the early morning, I had to remind myself, I am in Japan. I am on vacation. I had to tell my soul: You are in Nagoya.
Group photos: this group loved group photos. Group photos at airports, at every new place we went, every grand scenery and memorable building. Click, click. 1, 2, 3. Click, click. Good thing I brought my tough and handy Olympus TG3 camera. Bright LCD screen, unlike phone camera screens that darken under the sun. The ladies wore colourful jackets, blouses, shoes and they enlivened the photos. The men were unremarkable. The ladies knew how to pose in a variety of ways; the men stood like they would for the class photograph. Click, click. 1,2,3. Click, click.
The hotel we stayed in was Sanco Inn, a ten minute walk from where the airport bus dropped us off. We could not check in until 3 p.m. so we left our luggage there (this would be standard procedure) and went out to look for lunch. There was a nearby eatery and straightaway we faced our first fun challenge of getting our orders and requests across. Separate bills please. They could not grasp it. They brought beer! Separate receipts. They got it finally. Receipto. Receipto. But the idea of separate receipto for each couple is foreign to them. So we adapted, we adjusted, we learned. The food was oishii. The yen was stronger than two years ago so the prices we paid were similar to what you would pay for Japanese food in Singapore. However, you felt satisfied, you felt better parting with your yen because of the freshness and the quality and authentic taste of what you had.
Surveying the shopping area near the hotelRuby and SalomeHelen and Salome at the 100 yen shopTan and Kenny practising patience outside the 100 yen shopJudith feeling boredWhat did you have for dinner? Japanese. Oishii.
We spent several hours walking around their shopping area in cool temperatures and under a grey sky that threatened to drizzle. Nothing much in this area near the hotel. Except the 100 yen shop. Where the ladies spent considerable time surveying and bought few things. Singaporeans are experienced strategic shoppers. They did not want to lug around all the things they bought. They would buy later, near the end of the jaunt.
Tan and Nellie waiting for their food.
That night we packed for two days of hiking. We had to pack for an overnight stay in the mountain. Stuffed what we needed in the backpack. The rest of the luggage would be sent over by takkyubin to Ace Inn Hotel in Matsumoto.
We did 45km in about 4 hours. Cycling, not running. Three pastors from the Brompton Pastors’ Club – Richard Wong, Seng Chor and myself. Pastor Lawrence Koo and Daniel Lee could not join us.
We set off at about 7.30am from B1 carpark located at the beginning of the East Coast Service Road (near Fort Road). It was a free car park. We intended to meet earlier but I was waiting at the wrong car park B2. I don’t know how I got that wrong. I saw the WhatsApp and it said B1 car park but when I typed into the Google map it was B2.
At halfway point after the Bedok Jetty. where there are some repair tools, air pump, and a water fountain.
We cycled all the way to Changi Village with one or two drink stops. At one of the stop there was a station for cyclists. It had a few repair tools, an air pump and a water fountain. Wonderful idea. I commend the authorities for making such things available in this park connector.
At the end of the Changi Park with the sea in the background.A wefie on the famous old Changi bridge
The scenic stretches of the route that I liked was the one after the Youth Adventure Center, with deciduous trees on both sides of the route. The other was the Changi Park itself with its tall casuarinas. We rode to the end of the Changi Park PCN. I thought that it was so beautiful that the sea scape along the route had less ships (unlike the ECP PCN), and there were no restaurants, and there were less people around. The most boring section however was the straight and broad Coastal park connector path of about 8km. On both sides of this path were ongoing construction work of next two airport terminals.
Famous competitor of the best nasi lemak in SingaporeThe nasi lemak
At the Changi Village hawker center we had a delicious nasi lemak breakfast. It was just past 9am. I used to patronise the famous stall that earned the accolade of best nasi lemak in Singapore. But Richard insisted this competing stall was better. After eating, I agreed with him. The rice was soft and moist, and the fish I ordered was fresh and meaty. We downed it with 100 plus to replenish our lost body salt.
We decided not to rest too long. We moved off for the return leg. The weather was cloudy and we were thankful for that. Especially at the monotonous Coastal PCN which had no tree cover. The clouds gave us shelter and cooled us. You see, in the late morning, it is usually very sunny and humid.
After that my legs grew tired , and my bum ached. This was the first time I covered such distance. Prior to this, 20 km was the most I have ridden. Pastor Seng Chor just recovered from a flu and he too had gone slow and steady. Pastor Richard went strong throughout as he was a veteran of such long rides. He was physically well conditioned. This was a piece of cake for him.
On the whole we enjoyed it. When I reached the end point I felt relief as well as a sense of satisfaction. I was thinking of how in my fathers’ generation men retired at 55 years old, and were expected to gather moss, and rot at home. We were all over 55 and we were not at home, not gathering moss, and still active in ministry. Times have changed. Attitudes have changed. Retirement is indeed a social construct.
One person leaving the Japanese Garden was saying, They should not allow cyclists into the Chinese and Japanese Gardens. So unsafe. I went to the security guard to confirm if what I was hearing was true. Can cyclists enter the Gardens? I thought there was a rule that said we cannot? I have been stopped before. The security guard said, Yes you can now cycle in the Gardens. Later, my wife and I were walking out at the Chinese Garden’s exit at the Chinese Garden MRT side. I asked the security guard there, Can we cycle in the Gardens? Yes you can. What happened? I thought all along we cannot. The management made a decision this week to allow and we have been instructed to allow cyclists in, he replied.
Last week I was disappointed to see one thirds of the Jurong Lake Park Connector boarded up completely for upgrading works. Now there is some comfort in this piece of good news that we can cycle inside the gardens.
Here are some photos to prove this is for real but I do not know if this is temporary or permanent.
Brompton in front of lake in Chinese GardenTern in front of MuLanBrompton with some famous and loyal Chinese prime minister of the pastBrompton in front of main building of Chinese GardenTern in front of the twin pagodaConfucius met Brompton for the first time and advised it not to bid for any government tendersWefie on the bridge that joins the Chinese with the Japanese Gardens
