By the sea

In our spiffing shiny motor car, the Royals, Sir S and I went on a merry spin to the nearby seaside town of Mihonoseki. Here I contemplated the soothing, salty-aired idyll that is a Japanese fishing village. Wooden houses of two or three levels shambled around the horseshoe bay, their glass sliding doors allowing the curious tourist a peep at tatami-matted rooms, and entry-chambers radiant with blond wood and ikebana flower arrangements on a low table. The bay looked out to a rather mottled Mt Daisen, her meek winter snows already showing patches of black rock and earth. In the bay fishing boats, each strung with a necklace of orbular glass lamps, bobbled on the green-blue water.

To the left of the bay was a path leading to the Miho Shrine, and taking this course we passed several fish shops. On wooden racks in the sun, silver fish were bound to little rungs in severe order, and dried squids swayed, beaks down and tentacles draped, like pegged washing on the breeze.



Miho Shrine is set back from the bay, nestled amongst the trees and thrumming springtime birdsong of thickly wooded hills. Dating from the 8th century, this shrine is home to the god of fishery, the shipping trade and other maritime pursuits. The ema, or prayer tablets, which are traditionally decorated with the Boar of the Chinese signs for this year, are instead etched with sea motifs: a tangle of nets, fisher's boats, a prized fish. These too were hung from small bamboo rods with a long piece of string, so that they appeared like fishing rods, each snagged with a shrinegoer's prayer or wish. A paper mache fish loomed from under the shrine wall and paintings of seafarers were hung behind it.




I could have spent all day wandering the winding alleyways that webbed out from the shrine and curved around to the bay. Fish nets were slung over balcony railings; rusted anchors lay flakey and bronze on the front porches of houses; potted flowers were clustered around doorways, many with a border of fan seashells along the inner edge of the pot (reminding me of certain nursery rhymes).

Strangely, despite being a seaside town, we spotted only one cat.