Miyajima and memories of tattooed men
On Sunday, fellow Kiwi scholar Miss M and I trekked to the island of Miyajima for the Full Moon Festival. This festival was held from Saturday to Monday, but peasant folk Miss M and I could only afford a one-day ticket.
After only 2 and a half hours sleep, we found ourselves blinking in the bright morning sunshine at Miyajima ferry stop. I thought of breakfast as I watched the notorious Miyajima reindeer devouring crisps, cakes, Coke cans, sweet wrappers, a JR Rail Pass and a small child. Due to my previous experience of antlered locals, I steered well clear. Miyajima is a delightful island that is leafy with maple trees and ferns - the former making it a major tourist attraction in autumn, and the latter giving the place a New Zealandish flavour. Miyajima is also well-known for the red torii gate which stands tall in the sea: a striking gateway to the island. A string of neighbouring islands were seen in the distance - volcanic shapes, conical and dark.
Miss M and I hopped onto a ute for our ride to the festival on the other side of the island. The ute was packed with various hippie Japanese boys and girls heading to the festival. We sped along fern-lined roads and the sea breeze ruffled Miss Ember`s perfectly straight bob, meddled with one J-girl`s Native American-style plaits and whipped numerous dreadlocks into further disarray. We alighted at a small, remote beach which was covered in a carnival of tents: a mini Glastonbury by the sea.
Under the shade of trees and canvas, festivalgoers dozed, plucked at guitars, plaited each other`s hair or nibbled on sushi. Many women wore long Indian skirts with bells tinkling on their toes. Others had swathes of pink-blonde or woolly hair tucked under pixie hats, fuzzy and many-coloured. Boys had shaved hair, or long cascades of dreads (one fellow`s hair hung beneath his knees!) or flouncy girlish styles that lent them an elfin look. Many boys and girls were beautifully tattooed. The Japanese tan very well, so that their skin is a fine shade of chocolate which is an excellent canvas for traditional-style rainbow tattoos of dragons, koi fish and warriors. I think that colourful tattoos are like stained glass on dark skin; somehow the colour is richer than on white.
Miss M and I settled on the sand to watch bands. There was a troupe of traditional Japanese drummers, who hammered drums as big as cauldrons with sticks as big as baseball bats. They sang and drummed and jumped and rolled and fluttered about with red fans. Then there was a band consisting of six bongo drummers, a singer, three guitarists and a didgeridoo. It was amazing. Miss M and I enjoyed the drowsy afternoon listening to the reggae-style beats, sitting on the sand, admiring the view of islands, the sea and the little hippie kiddies playing in the waves, as well as the lead singer of said outfit, who was tanned to the colouring of a chocolate egg, whose toned chest was panelled with painted dragons and whose fringe flounced from side to side in true Suede-style. Most diverting!
Miss M and I splodged about in the sea to cool off, but we had to be careful of typhoon debris which washed up onto the sand. Whole trees could be seen bobbing on the horizon, and one had to be vigilant that a stray branch/car tyre/pram didn`t get snagged between one`s toes while strolling along.
We ended our day with a chocolate ice-cream (from a vending machine, of course) overlooking the red torii as the sun went down, and fending off deer with our GetHiroshima Maps. Marvellous!
After only 2 and a half hours sleep, we found ourselves blinking in the bright morning sunshine at Miyajima ferry stop. I thought of breakfast as I watched the notorious Miyajima reindeer devouring crisps, cakes, Coke cans, sweet wrappers, a JR Rail Pass and a small child. Due to my previous experience of antlered locals, I steered well clear. Miyajima is a delightful island that is leafy with maple trees and ferns - the former making it a major tourist attraction in autumn, and the latter giving the place a New Zealandish flavour. Miyajima is also well-known for the red torii gate which stands tall in the sea: a striking gateway to the island. A string of neighbouring islands were seen in the distance - volcanic shapes, conical and dark.
Miss M and I hopped onto a ute for our ride to the festival on the other side of the island. The ute was packed with various hippie Japanese boys and girls heading to the festival. We sped along fern-lined roads and the sea breeze ruffled Miss Ember`s perfectly straight bob, meddled with one J-girl`s Native American-style plaits and whipped numerous dreadlocks into further disarray. We alighted at a small, remote beach which was covered in a carnival of tents: a mini Glastonbury by the sea.
Under the shade of trees and canvas, festivalgoers dozed, plucked at guitars, plaited each other`s hair or nibbled on sushi. Many women wore long Indian skirts with bells tinkling on their toes. Others had swathes of pink-blonde or woolly hair tucked under pixie hats, fuzzy and many-coloured. Boys had shaved hair, or long cascades of dreads (one fellow`s hair hung beneath his knees!) or flouncy girlish styles that lent them an elfin look. Many boys and girls were beautifully tattooed. The Japanese tan very well, so that their skin is a fine shade of chocolate which is an excellent canvas for traditional-style rainbow tattoos of dragons, koi fish and warriors. I think that colourful tattoos are like stained glass on dark skin; somehow the colour is richer than on white.
Miss M and I settled on the sand to watch bands. There was a troupe of traditional Japanese drummers, who hammered drums as big as cauldrons with sticks as big as baseball bats. They sang and drummed and jumped and rolled and fluttered about with red fans. Then there was a band consisting of six bongo drummers, a singer, three guitarists and a didgeridoo. It was amazing. Miss M and I enjoyed the drowsy afternoon listening to the reggae-style beats, sitting on the sand, admiring the view of islands, the sea and the little hippie kiddies playing in the waves, as well as the lead singer of said outfit, who was tanned to the colouring of a chocolate egg, whose toned chest was panelled with painted dragons and whose fringe flounced from side to side in true Suede-style. Most diverting!
Miss M and I splodged about in the sea to cool off, but we had to be careful of typhoon debris which washed up onto the sand. Whole trees could be seen bobbing on the horizon, and one had to be vigilant that a stray branch/car tyre/pram didn`t get snagged between one`s toes while strolling along.
We ended our day with a chocolate ice-cream (from a vending machine, of course) overlooking the red torii as the sun went down, and fending off deer with our GetHiroshima Maps. Marvellous!
posted by Miss Ember at 2:41 pm
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