Australiens

Miss Ember is excitedly awaiting the arrival of Maid Marion and Sir Keith who are currently circumnavigating the Orient and will dock in Hiroshima for four days soon-ish. Plans afoot include a visit to Rasheim`s bar (`discreetly open to all sexualities`, hopefully without the rash), Aulea and Koba for much drinky-poo-poos among Japanese sophisticats; a visit to the Peace Park, Museum and A-Bomb Dome; a wander through the spiffily autumnal Shukkeien Gardens; and much sake is to be supped at the local izakaya for local people.

In other news, have discovered three psytrance events are being held in Hiroshima in the next week, but methinks I`ll go to the one scheduled for Halloween. I`m debating whether to attend the proceedings dressed as Kiki (pictured). Now that I live in Japan, I can easily acquire a magnetic-pawed Jiji the Cat to attach to my broom (or bicycle, or wrist). All I need is a red ribbon and a strategically placed broomstick.

Emma and Stuart as South Park characters

And I tip my red velvet beret in Cracklypork`s direction for this ... simply brilliant! I especially like the samurai-in-winter theme. Stuart-san looks appropriately grumpy :)

Hiroshima Food Festival

On the weekend the Hiroshima Food Festival was held in and around the grounds of Hiroshima Castle (the original of which was blasted away by the Bomb, so tis an 1950s remake). It was a glorious day, the autumn sunlight streamed through the trees and dragon-boats paced up and down the waters of the moat to the merry beat of a drum.

Hundreds of people turned out for the festival. Most of the offerings were of the meaty variety including Hiroshima`s famous oysters, squid, beef, whole fish on skewers, noodles and mushroom rice. I was thrilled to find an array of sake stalls handing out free samples, so I quaffed quite a few thimbles of the stuff, including sake served with a bamboo scoop from a bowl made of ice. So I was rather squifflicated for most of the afternoon and was taken aback when I espied metal life-size cut-outs of Miyazaki icon - Totoro - randomly standing in the grass. And I was even more startled when, after wobbling my way through a variety of sake stalls, I came upon a Banrock Station stall. Yes, they were selling little bladders of Banrock`s merlot and shiraz etc. Most peculiar! And so I staggered passed the dancing row of Totoros in shock and managed to find my bike out of the hundreds that were parked nearby. It is most interesting to ride one`s bike home at 3 in the afternoon while drunk. One has to dodge small children and stumpy-tailed cats. It is also important to ride in a straight line whenever possible.

Interestingly, many of my fellow scholars have teetotalled in the sake department - three of them had black-outs after drinking the stuff and couldn`t remember a thing!

Cute and unusual things

Here is the latest list of the Cute and Unusual in Japan:

bike parks. As a cyclist, I adore this country. And where else is there to park one`s penny farthing than in a sophisticated bike park? First, you lift you bike onto a special metal ramp and wheel it down as you simultaneously descend the steps. A man fastens a little tag to your wheel, and after paying 100 yen, your bike is safe and sound under the watchful eye of the staff. If it`s teeming with rain outside, the staff will even loan you an umbrella! The best bit is when you collect your bike, you must place it on a little conveyor belt which runs up the right-hand side of the staircase. As the conveyor belt screeches into motion, one can hear the beep-beep-beep of a little siren at the main door, warning pedestrians outside that - lo! someone is about to wheel their bicycle onto the road - watch out! And yes, when one reaches the top there is a big flashing yellow light and a hooting siren announcing your ascent into Hiroshima Above!

lockers.A recent visit to the Contemporary Art Museum made me discover the umbrella locker.Just pop your parasol or brolly in a slot, insert some coins and lock it with a key! Tis most handy and avoids the desperate ploys of low umbrella-theiving scum - you know the ones, who always leave their umbrella behind on the train so go off and nick someone else`s.

bonsai bikes. As with most forms of transport in Japan - esp the car and the van - the bike often comes in very small and adorable sizes. It is not uncommon to see a businessman zipping about on what appears to be a kiddie`s bike, his knees almost cramped up to his chest as he hurtles along, bent double over his prized tiny toy. Last night I saw a young woman riding the tiniest bike painted in bubblegum pink - the handlebars, pedals and spokes were resplendently ... pink ... with a hint of fairy-floss. Very cute!

bike acrobatics. As most Japanese shot out of the womb on a tricycle, they are masters of multi-skilling whilst riding one`s bicycle. I have witnessed a person cycling in the rain with an umbrella in one hand, a mobile phone in the other and a fag expertly held betwixt the lips. An attempt to imitate the umbrella-riding style on my part ended in a long, uncontrolled skid and nearby shrieks from a crowd of women. Most harrowing and not to be attempted again!

costume photo.If you`d rather not fork out the cash for a Lil Bo Peep dress, why not try one on in a costume photo shop and get a snap taken? This service also features nurses` uniforms and naval-style schoolgirl outfits.

love hotels. So far I have researched love hotels for the imminent arrival of Maid Marion and Sir Keith, and Sir Stuart, in order that they experience a novel place to stay. I have sneaked into Hotel Banana, I have diced with death in Hotel Tomato and I secreted myself in Hotel Parsley. All hotels are easy to spot from their absurd names and the plastic strips which hang from their carpark roofs (so that the cars parked within are screened from view of the general public and any marauding in-laws). Coy couples shuffled by me with their heads bent. I observed several of the photo menus: sadly the weirdest room was Disney-themed, with a Minnie Mouse Palace over the bed. A room in Hotel Banana had an ear-shaped chair and a hand-shaped sofa. The beds there are massive and have bright yellow duvets (continuing the banana theme). But alack! It seems that the more lavish, kookily themed rooms are found in Tokyo and Osaka only. There was not a dental surgery or schoolroom to be found in Hotel Parsley!

Ember-san does kendo!

Today I braved the martial arts world and attempted a little kendo. As you can squiz from this glam photo, I modelled a pair of hakama (in short, a pair of baggy fancy-pants or `divided skirts` that Japanese pretty boys flounce about in, waving their katana, or longsword, willy-nilly). I participated in the group demonstration which involved me - with skirts a-flying - getting flung onto the floor after a surprising yet decisive wrist action from my opponent.

Fellow intrepid kendo-ee, Mohammed-san from Iraq, took numerous photos of me and others sprawled on the floor and in other undignified positions: will post soon. This showcase of Japanese martial arts - also including Judo, Iaido and Aikido - was arranged by the International Centre, where I go for free Japanese lessons. So a gang of us from the class went along - including said doctor from Iraq, a Sri Lankan dentist, an Indian man and his family and a Luxembourger. As Kath would say to Kim, `it was very multikulcharool, Kimmy.`

The fur and the fury

Sadly here in Japan - while rummaging through many a vintage shop or a high-class department store - I have espied real fox furs draped across the shoulders of mannequins and many stores have a `fur rack`. To my horror, today at Qrover I trod upon the glorious and dead tail of a fox. Also shocking is that shops do not only stock red fox furs, but also the furs of the grey fox and the Arctic fox (which is pure snow white and as far as I know, not very common - although perhaps they breed the Arctic fox at the many fox farms in Scandinavia).

The fox - or kitsune in Japanese - is my favourite animal and I must confess to being struck with melancholy when the handsome weight of a fox`s silky brush lay dead upon my feet, strung up with a price tag of 50,000 yen.

On another note, each night I read a Japanese fairytale before going to bed. One story was entitled the Fox-Wife. It detailed the story of a fox that transformed into a woman and sought the love and company of a lonely hunter in the mountains.

Winter finery

I`m impatient for the crisp air of autumn and the frostiness of winter, as the shops here are packed with all the elegant things that Miss Ember admires: pretty gloves, vintage hats, felt berets, silky scarfs and the best ever vintage-style goth clothes. The brands Emily Temple, Jane Marple, Milk and BlackPeaceNow offer a brilliant array of pleasing winter coats - grey or black with dark velvet stripes and matching capes to throw over the shoulders; many a 20s inspired hat and lots of high-knee socks with bows and patterns and ribbons. It is all so expensive though! Coats range from 200-500 AU bucks. I will have to buy something while I`m here though *waggles finger at self* otherwise I`ll regret it! I was accosted by a flock of Bo-Peeps this afternoon with a chorus of `Iraisshaimase!` (welcome).

I discovered a most excellent vintage clothing shop today - Qrover - and picked up a couple of its art deco business cards. The shop was crowded with beads, brooches, 30s hats and general secondhand stuff. This is the second vintage shop I`ve found and I have an inkling there`s many more. Will go exploring this weekend (my first proper pay-day!).

Things that go (brit)POP

On the weekend I ventured out to funky nightspot Opium and had a wee drinkie with fellow Canadian scholars, Miss E and Master N, where we nattered about work and the woes of narcoleptic students. We also discussed curious things, such as the fact some Japanese wear face masks when walking about outside - not to avoid breathing in pollution, but to prevent themselves spreading colds to other people; non-working women are immediately referred to as `housewifes`; many a Japanese wife is very lonely - often the husband lives in a different town, usually where his company is located - and only sees his wife once or twice a month; many women in their thirties upwards are badgered by their bosses to lose weight despite being thin by Western standards.

Then we meandered our way to Commune, a skinny, narrow club on the fifth floor of a building. We were handed copies of the DJs` set-list on the way in, which was rather odd. Thankfully, the DJs promptly ignored the setlists and played a spontaneity of Britpop and other indie tunes. Miss E and I quaffed Cassis and orange and listened to the old classics, which to my delight featured Suede, the Stone Roses, Primal Scream and others including Vanessa Paradis, the latter I think being a hangover of Japan`s Johnny Depp fixation. Sadly the club was relatively dead on the punter front, with only about 15 people in total. Miss E and I danced about to the Beastie Boys and the Chilli Peppers, then turned in at around 2am.

I wandered home on foot nibbling inari under a tangerine moon (this was much more elegant than the previous night`s transport, when I wobbled home drunk on my racy red bicycle after nastily mixing drinks - sake, vodka, sake, a Cowboy shooter, more vodka, a bit of wine etc - to find the next day that my clothes and bike were splattered with mud). Most un-glam!

Also on the clubbing front, I have discovered a monthly psytrance club in Hiroshima. Yay for bleepiness!

Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep ...

So far I`ve discovered three goth clothing shops in Hiroshima. Unfortunately, most of the clothes are ridiculously expensive, ranging from $150-$400 and the quality of the garments is not that spifferiffic. Most staggering of all are the Little Bo Peep dress shops. Daintily decorated shops in cream and pink wallpapers are lined with row upon row of lacey, frilly, puffy dresses fit for the most glamorous shepherdess. There are frilly bags to match and cameo-style chokers and pretty gloves and stripey socks. Most dresses start at $250 and transform Japanese girls into rather unsettling, delicate, walking living doll-lls.

Speaking of Living Dolls, I have found a figurine shop that sells doll parts so one can make one`s own doll. Crazy clothes and different-coloured hair can be purchased for the dolls. Also, many of the female dolls have different-sized breasts, ranging from `petite` to `extreme`, which is all very disturbing.

Today amid the tiny alleys of faded neon and overhead wires, racing along on my little red racy bike, I espied a genteel pearly-haired woman cycling afore me and most amazingly dressed. She donned a stunning black dress that sported long, rectangular draped sleeves embroidered with white peacock feathers. The sleeves flapped about in elegant chaos behind her and she looked most witchy shuttling along on her bike in a storm of wayward clothes and feathers. Whenever the sleeves were about to snag in the back wheel, the wind would bear them up again like a convenient spell. Or maybe I`ve just been reading too much Harry Potter ...