Entrancing Tottori
On the weekend I caught the afternoon Orient Express and steamed my way to the country estate in Tottori to visit my beau, the dashing Sir S. I adore train travel; it`s highly civilised with much space to stow one`s stole, cloche hat and magazines, and plentiful opportunities to take tea and chat to locals who are off on business appointments in the capital. I take great delight in admiring the view of passing farms, rice paddies and thatched barns between chapters of the latest thrilling novel. I devoured the remaining chapters of Flashman* on the way there, with a little nibble of The Three Musketeers on the way back, with some missives written in between to Notts and His Edenic Maj (to be posted this week, boys!). I`m juggling numerous books at the moment, it can be very difficult to pack one`s suitcase when one is torn between Flashy and an intriguing Phryne mystery (thanks again, Notts!).
As ever it was most divine to be reunited with my love, and we retired to the manor for a few hours before heading out to dinner to meet Sir S`s new friend, Hiro-san. We dined at the local izakaya on a bountiful feast of sashimi,** seaweed salad, cheese pastries, miso soup and rice, sipped plum wine and beer and engaged in good-humoured conversation (with a hint of smut).
The weekend was marred somewhat by ghastly weather from the sea. It rained buckets and I could have filled an upturned cloche to the brim with water and frogs, it was so wet! On Saturday eve we hit the local dance halls and found a tiny, welcoming place packed with friendly locals. The band struck up an entrancing tune and played classics from Infected Mushroom and the like. Sir S and I took a turn on the dancefloor and nattered to a few of the locals, some of whom removed their shirts for the foxtrot and waggled their glo-sticks most naughtily. Sadly, there weren`t as many Ethels*** in attendance as a girl would`ve hoped for. We shoe-shuffled into the wee hours, enjoying the grand display of cheerful dancers, surreal wall-art and exploding flowers of laser beams. All very modern, I think you`ll agree!
The weather brightened up for Sunday, and Sir S and I strolled along the Tottori Castle ruins, all that remains now being a vast fortress wall of sandstone-like bricks, topped with a crumbling Shinto shrine and a tangle of forest. I, of course, went giddy at the sight of so many Inari Foxes, and took many a snap. Then we wandered to the local museum and art gallery to admire stuffed foxes and killer rats (the size of a tubby domestic cat), the pickled remains of Japan`s largest squid and some very old pots.
Sir S`s next scheduled visit will coincide with the yukata festival. How can I survive so long without my dearheart? Sigh! I shall have to buy some pretty fans to cheer me up.
*Old Flashy is such a dastardly cretin, but I do adore his tales of shaggery, cowardice, back-stabbing and last-minute escape!
**Since living in the Orient I`ve gone a bit native and have adopted a vegaquarian diet. Sashimi is strangely un-fishy in smell and taste, and is smeared with wasabi before devouring, to kill germs apparently. Am yet to establish if this is yet another Gaijin Myth.
***Effeminate men.
As ever it was most divine to be reunited with my love, and we retired to the manor for a few hours before heading out to dinner to meet Sir S`s new friend, Hiro-san. We dined at the local izakaya on a bountiful feast of sashimi,** seaweed salad, cheese pastries, miso soup and rice, sipped plum wine and beer and engaged in good-humoured conversation (with a hint of smut).
The weekend was marred somewhat by ghastly weather from the sea. It rained buckets and I could have filled an upturned cloche to the brim with water and frogs, it was so wet! On Saturday eve we hit the local dance halls and found a tiny, welcoming place packed with friendly locals. The band struck up an entrancing tune and played classics from Infected Mushroom and the like. Sir S and I took a turn on the dancefloor and nattered to a few of the locals, some of whom removed their shirts for the foxtrot and waggled their glo-sticks most naughtily. Sadly, there weren`t as many Ethels*** in attendance as a girl would`ve hoped for. We shoe-shuffled into the wee hours, enjoying the grand display of cheerful dancers, surreal wall-art and exploding flowers of laser beams. All very modern, I think you`ll agree!
The weather brightened up for Sunday, and Sir S and I strolled along the Tottori Castle ruins, all that remains now being a vast fortress wall of sandstone-like bricks, topped with a crumbling Shinto shrine and a tangle of forest. I, of course, went giddy at the sight of so many Inari Foxes, and took many a snap. Then we wandered to the local museum and art gallery to admire stuffed foxes and killer rats (the size of a tubby domestic cat), the pickled remains of Japan`s largest squid and some very old pots.
Sir S`s next scheduled visit will coincide with the yukata festival. How can I survive so long without my dearheart? Sigh! I shall have to buy some pretty fans to cheer me up.
*Old Flashy is such a dastardly cretin, but I do adore his tales of shaggery, cowardice, back-stabbing and last-minute escape!
**Since living in the Orient I`ve gone a bit native and have adopted a vegaquarian diet. Sashimi is strangely un-fishy in smell and taste, and is smeared with wasabi before devouring, to kill germs apparently. Am yet to establish if this is yet another Gaijin Myth.
***Effeminate men.
posted by Miss Ember at 2:50 pm
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