A Fish Out of Water

Mother's Day

On Mother's Day Hideaki's family had a lunch in honour of Ah-chan, his maternal grandmother. In attendance were his mother, who flew in from Osaka just for the event, his aunt, his sister Atsuko and her husband, daughter Marya and baby Yuuki.

We met at a restaurant called Tsukiji no Uemura in Mizonokuchi, Kanagawa (near Ah-chan's nursing home) and had a feast. It was tasty, and Shuma had rice in non-okayu (rice porridge) form for the first time and ended up eating nearly half my bowl. But we didn't much pay attention to the food, as this both Ah-chan and my aunt's first time to meet Shuma and Yuuki.

The kids were happy to see each other, and Marya proudly showed off her missing teeth (the picture sadly didn't turn out). I can't believe she's losing her baby teeth already, it seems like she was just born (yes, I realize I'll soon be saying this kind of thing about Shuma, and yes, it totally blows my mind). The babies spent most of the time engaged in hand-to-hand combat.

And Ah-chan was very happy to meet the babies. They loved her right back, and were generally charming and remarkably well-behaved. Ah-chan is 94 (I think) and it was pretty incredible to have four generations together, with nearly a century between the eldest and youngest. I hope all four generations can meet up for many more years.

お盆

My husband and I just returned from Minoh, Osaka, where we spent our O-bon holidays visiting his parents. My husband is currently between jobs, so to save money we took the night bus-- an 8 hour ride each way. The experience was quite a bit better than the night bus I took to Kyoto last year, but it's still not exactly a comfortable way to travel, so we're a bit tired. And with my camera is broken (again), my cellphone pictures don't really inspire me to blog. But it's been a week since my last post, so I better give it a go.

As usual, my in-laws fed us well. Above is our first dinner: shishito (Japanese peppers) and eggplant sauteed with miso; enoki mushrooms and green beans simmered with shaved beef; cold braised chicken; and scallops sauteed in butter served with cabbage. In true Japanese style, I saving my rice for after I've finished with my beer.

We had a nice dinner at Kamizono, a Japanese restaurant near Minoh Station. The place bills itself as a katei ryouri (home-style cooking) restaurant, but is a bit fancier than that, with well-exectued, seasonal food featuring plenty of vegetables. Among the many small dishes I was served, I especially liked the tomato oden (a whole skinned tomato simmered in dashi stock).

The hamo no bainiku ae (grilled pike conger dressed with ume, or Japanese apricot) was also nice, as was the wa-gyu tataki (seared Japanese beef), inventively served wrapped around parcels of thinly sliced sweet onion and kaiware-na (daikon sprouts) and dressed with ponzu (citrus soy sauce).

Kamizono is small but well worth a visit if you live in the area (that's probably just you, Kat!), and apparently has a great 1000 yen lunch deal.　　　

My in-laws don't really do ohaka mairi (visiting the cemetery to clean the family grave and pray to the ancestors), at least not for their own families. But they do visit the grave of one of Hideaki's friends, who died when he was just 18, so we came along to pay our respects. The cemetery is an especially large one, sprawling up the side of a mountain with trees seperating each large section. But despite the greenery, I was struck by how grey and depressing Japanese cemeteries tend to be. And as year is the 20th anniversary of the friend's death, this was an especially sad visit. I was touched to see my mother-in-law crying and really think it's incredible that she continues to visit after all these years. It's very different, and I think nicer, than the way death is dealt with in Canada, with the dead often forgotten as quickly as possible.　　　

O-bon is about more than just cemeteries-- visits back home are the time to catch up with old friends. We met some friends of Hideaki's and went to a bar that serves chicken in every possible style, including sashimi. Above is an assortment of sashimi, including breast, which was soft and tender, and heart, which I didn't try (I'm not very adventuresome when it comes to organ meats).

Here we are in front of the bar. At bottom left is Hoda, whose wedding we attended this spring. Great news- he and his wife are already expecting! The baby is due in March and I hope I get to see it (but I won't hold my breath-- two of Hideaki's friends are fathers but I've yet to meet the kids).

ひな祭り

Today we celebrated Hina Matsuri (Hina Doll Festival) with Marya and her family. On Hina Matsuri, families with girls will display a special set of dolls, serve special food, and generally celebrate having girls. I forgot to take a picture of the lovely pair of dolls that were displayed, but Marya is a bit of a doll herself so I think you'll forgive me.

Here she is trying to decide what to eat first, among a selection of arare (sweet rice crackers) and cookies. Atsuko, Marya's mom, made the cookies: they are shaped like sakura (cherry blossoms) and have three differently coloured layers, like hishimochi (another traditional sweet with pink, white and green layers). Atsuko, being health conscious, avoids artificial dies so the colours are much softer than they would normally be, but the cookies were still beautiful and very tasty.

There are plenty of foods associated with Hina Matsuri. Aside from the arare and hishimochi mentioned above, there is amazake (a sweet sake with fermented rice, served hot), chirashizushi (scattered sushi), ushio-jiru (clam soup) and sakura-mochi (rice cake filled with sweet azuki bean paste, wrapped in a cherry leaf). And we had them all, except for the hishimochi and chirashizushi!

We hung out and played for a while, and Marya showed us her new bike. She hasn't quite got the pedaling down yet, but she's quite the speed demon!

For dinner we mostly avoided Hina Matsuri food, instead eating fun stuff that Marya, who's just 2, can eat. We had a salad of thinly sliced daikon, kaiware-na (daikon sprouts), bacon, and mushrooms; kara-age (fried chicken); chawan-mushi (savory egg custard); and sekihan (rice with red beans).

There was also ushi-jiru, with clams, namafu (wheat gluten cakes) shaped like ume (Japanese apricot blossom) and mitsuba (trefoil). It was all delicious, and all made by Atsuko, who must have been working for days to prepare everything.

For dessert there was home-made sakura-mochi, topped with a salted sakura blossom. The store-bought kind is usually bright pink, but I really prefer this softer dusty-pink colour, which Atsuko made with a natural die.

Finally we finished with pomegranates. I haven't had one in years so it was a real treat-- especially since we had them Iranian style. They came with plastic bags and straws, and we had to seal up our pomegranate in a bag and squeeze it for several minutes, without breaking the skin. When the insides were crushed, we stuck a straw through the bag and into the pomegranate and drank. There was a surprising amount of sweet juice in there, but even after we were done we tried squeezing some more to get as much out of it as we could. No idea if this is actually how it's done in Iran, but it was fun and really delicious.

Judy

The roubai (wintersweet) bloomed early this year, thanks to the warm winter we've been having. They are the first flowers of the year, and as this picture was taken a few weeks ago, are already past their peak. Ume (Japanese apricot) won't be too far off, and then it will be time for the sakura (cherry blossoms) to bloom.

This is how I keep track of each year's progression: by noting the flowers in bloom. But in life, there are other ways to mark the passage of time.

A family friend died yesterday.

Judy was the mother of one of one of my two childhood best friends. Not only that, though; the friendship of three 5-year old girls brought our entire families together. We had all moved to the same street of a brand-new subdivision, and as us girls ran endlessly from house to house, the adults eventually followed. There were constant get-togethers, barbeques, and holiday dinners together, and Judy became a kind of second mother to me.

By our teens we girls had drifted apart, thanks to different schools, a few moves far away, and grumpy teenage self-preoccupation (I think that last one applies to me only, actually). But our parents remained close friends and managed to keep meeting up, and eventually us girls grew up and became friends again. Perhaps not in the same way as when we were five, but I'm very grateful for our friendship, in whatever form it takes.

Krista, Johanna, and their families were at my wedding 7 years ago, and that was the last I saw of Judy.

As children grow up, there are a number of "firsts" that friends will inevitably compare with each other, and I remember the excitement or dread involved in anticipating and reporting these events. Like losing teeth or learning to ride a bicycle; getting periods and training bras; and eventually, getting a car, moving out, buying a house, getting married, and having a baby. Not that all of us accomplished everything on that list (for example, I still don't need a training bra), but the milestones are there and noted.

And then the grimmest milestone of all: first parent to die. It's something I never imagined as a kid, and something I've purposely avoided thinking about as an adult. Because it's too horrible to think about. But now that every death I hear of reminds me of my own parent's deaths, I'm starting to realize: they won't live forever. Judy's death has brought home that fact in the saddest way possible. Judy, who I haven't seen in years and hardly have the right to call her my second mother, but will always think of as just that.

Those of you who have mothers, give them a hug right now. And then hug everyone else you love. Because you won't be able to do it forever.

Oshogatsu

So it's about time I covered Oshogatsu (the New Years holidays). On December 30th, the day after I got back from ski camp, we flew to Osaka to spend 4 nights in Osaka with Hideaki's family. It's what we do every year, although this year was a bit shorter than usual and much more eventful.

At Haneda airport I saw my last sunset of the year, with Mount Fuji barely visible in the distance. I took that as a good sign, having seen it the day before as well, and vowed to keep Fuji on my mind-- it is lucky to dream about the mountain on the night of January 1st.

We arrived at Hideaki's parent's house to a wonderful scene: Atsuko, Hisashi and Marya busy putting dinner on the table and pouring pink bubbly. Here's what we had:

• Three types of grilled himono (split and partly dried fish) of which I chose aji (horse mackerel)
• Grilled squid
• Sunomono (vinegar-dressed food) of salmon wrapped in very thin slices of kabu (turnip)
• Grilled thinly sliced pork dressed with a gingery sauce of negi (green onions) and cucumbers
• Nameko-orishi (slippery nameko mushrooms with grated daikon)

It was all delicious and I really liked the oil-rich himono, although Hideaki was a bit disappointed-- he was hoping for beef (his parent's house is one of the few places he can eat it, since we normally don't serve it at home).

The next day came with a surprise: an email from Hidetoshi, my husband's long lost brother. He lives in Hokkaido and almost never visits, calls or writes. He hasn't been seen in years and Hisashi, who has yet to meet him, likely believes he is a figment of our imaginations.

But with the email came notice of a package that would arrive that day, something tasty from Hokkaido. We were hoping for crab and that's what it was! Two kinds: tarabagani (king crab) and kegani (horsehair crab).

It was so delicious we ate it as-is, with no dipping sauce. Both kinds were tasty, but the favourite seemed to be the sweeter, delicate kegani. It's harder to eat though and comes out of the shell in little pieces. I actually preferred the tarabagani, with its richer flavour ease of eating-- the leg meat can be pulled out of the shell in one big piece, which is immensely satisfying.

But it's not just the legs that are eaten. The tops of the shells are served as well, with all of the tasty kanimiso (coral, called literally "crab miso" due to its resemblance to miso). The stuff is incredibly rich and has a deep oceany flavour. I like it but a little goes a long way; I prefer to dip some crab meat in it than to eat it by itself.

Drinking it is nice too. Especially when the shell is full of daiginjo-shu (top quality sake), creating an incredibly delicious and decadent cocktail.

After the crab came soba (buckwheat noodles), but not just any soba- this was New Year's Eve, which calls for toshikoshi soba ("year crossing" noodles). As usual, they were served in hot broth with a choice of nishin no kanroni (herring braised in sweet soy sauce) or ebi tempura (deep-fried shrimp). The nishin is my favourite, but I got a little shrimp on the side too.

After staying up to toast the New Year, it was off to bed. We were awoken early for the traditional breakfast of osechi:

Osechi are the auspicious and symbolic foods served for the first three days of the year. They are cooked during the last few days of the previous year with lots of salt, sugar and other seasonings, and are supposed to be able to keep without refrigeration for the duration of the holidays. This is made easier by the fact that Japanese houses, or at least the entrance areas, were unheated and therefore freezing cold. Osechi is meant to give the women of the house a bit of a break from cooking.

My mother-in-law serves the same things every year, some home-made and some store-bought. I hope to update this post soon with explanations of all the foods, but until then see this old Osechi post to find out what each item is and what New Year's wish it represents.

Otoso (sake flavoured with medicinal herbs and sugar) is served with the osechi, and when that's done ozoni is served. There are a myriad of variations of this soup, but they all have one thing in common- a cake of mochi (pounded sticky rice) at the bottom of the bowl. My mother-in-law's version is a clear soup with chicken, hakusai (Chinese cabbage), a slice of naruto (fish past "sausage"), mitsuba (trefoil) and a square of mochi. This mochi is extra-delicious, having been made by Hisashi's parents. They send a few big blocks of it every year, and it's Hisashi's job to cut it into squares. Home made mochi is a thousand times better than store-bought, and luckily there is always enough for us to take back to Tokyo with us.

Meanwhile, in between all the feasting, my niece Marya was happy to entertain us. She is almost two and at that wonderful age where she still has the (mostly) sweet disposition of a baby but can move and communicate like a toddler. She loves to play with all the grown ups and especially likes dancing with us. Unfortunately she refuses to dance unless we all dance and clap along too, so playing with her is hard work. But it's all worth it to see her lovely smile.

When not eating or playing with Marya, Oshogatsu is spent playing hanafuda ("flower cards", a traditional card game for three players). The cards are beautiful (you probably remember them from my Nengajo post a few days back) and one of these days I'm going to have to dedicate a post to them. For now though, here is one of my winning hands.

Dinner on January 1st was tai no shioyaki (salt-grilled sea bream) and crab salad (3 days of seafood- I was in heaven!). It is served whole at the table (two, actually) and cut up by the men. This is what the meat looks like:

It is soft enough to cut with chopsticks, but has a firm meaty quality. The flavour of the white meat is delicate, while the meat from around the head, fins and tail is a bit chewier and a bit kobashii (a deep charred or smoky flavour). I love this stuff and wish I could eat it more than once a year.

That night, I didn't dream of Mt. Fuji and I don't think anyone else did either: in the wee hours of the morning Hideaki drove my father-in-law to the hospital. It turned out to be an obstructed bowel, but we didn't find that out until later on that day as the emergency doctor at the first hospital couldn't figure out what was wrong and sent him home (not uncommon in Japan, where 24-hour emergency care barely exists). Luckily he was admitted to another hospital, and we were relieved to learn the problem is not so serious. He'll be in hospital for about 10 days though, which kind of put a damper on the holiday celebrations.

On the last day we let my mother-in-law relax, fixing a bit of food for ourselves and eating dinner out. Although we had to return to Tokyo on January 2nd, Atsuko and Marya will be staying on another week, so it will be nice for my mother-in-law to have some company.

And that's how we spent New Years. It's not quite finished, with hatsumode (first prayer of the year) yet to be completed, nanakusagayu (7-herb porridge) to be eaten, and kagami biraki (the breaking of the kagami mochi) to be performed. But the main events are over.

Here are a few more pictures from the holidays, and some from last year's Oshogatsu and the year's before.

Kawasaki Halloween Parade

Who knew so many Japanese people were into Halloween? On Sunday we joined 3000 people to march in the Kawasaki Halloween Parade, an annual event now in its 10th year. That's my brother-in-law in the Yoda costume and my sister-in-law as Darth Vadar (or was it vice-versa? hard to tell!). And Marya as a pumpkin.

The costumes were fantastic, with far more creativity and variety than I had imagined. Sure, there were plenty of costumes that were straight off the racks of Tokyu Hands (a large DIY/crafts/novelties store). And many many costumes were based on currently popular TV and movie characters, like pirates and the tarako girls. But there were also some truly wacky and wonderful get-ups that made me want to be a camera-toting spectator rather than part of the parade itself. The parade felt more like the Rio Carnival than Halloween. Or a Gay Pride Parade, or a regular Sunday afternoon in Harajuku. Very different from Halloween in Canada.

It was interesting to see what costumes attracted the most attention. In our little group, Yoda was by far the most popular, with kids crowding around taking turns to join him in a light saber battle, and adults posing for pictures with him. Not many people seemed to know what I was, and nobody knew what Hideaki was. Poor guy- he felt a little left out when people were taking all of our pictures except his. Weird. I thought he looked great, and to me it was totally obvious he was a gangster, but I guess mobsters don't have quite the same place in the popular imagination of the Japanese.

Other than Yoda, the crowds loved to see groups of people with the same costume or a theme. So if we had all been or gangsters than Hideaki's costume might have been a hit. Imagine if we were all Yodas!

Next year we will try to match, and I will arrive early enough to roam the area with my camera. I really really regret not getting pictures of the other participants. But luckily other people did- you can see a few pages of pictures from the parade on Flickr.

Update: the Kawasaki Halloween website has pictures of prize-winning costumes. Take a look here.

Dinner with Ako

This was my dinner last night at Otoya, a popular restaurant chain featuring Japanese food sold as teishoku (reasonably-priced set meals). I had the katsuo-tataki (seared skipjack tuna sashimi) teishoku, shown above. The fish came with tofu and raw onions and was garnished with thinly sliced daikon, sprouts and fried garlic, with grated ginger and soy sauce on the side. Yum.

This is my friend Ako. We met in Kichijoji, had dinner, than saw a movie (Stoned, the movie about Brian Jones). Ako complained that I must be ashamed of her since I never ever take her picture or blog about stuff we do together. So you'd think she's sit still long enough to let me take her picture, but no.

The truth is, when I'm really having fun with other people I often forget to take pictures. And when I remember it's usually just a few, not the dozens I take when I'm alone.

Take today, for example. My sister-in-law came over with her husband and daughter Marya, and we had a bbq. Nice weather, tasty food, good company, cute baby. I should have taken tonnes of pictures, but my camera never left my bag. So even though I had a great time, I have nothing to show for it.

Summer Camp

So I arrived back home from summer camp late last night utterly exhausted. Although it was lots and lots of fun, the work was hard, and a few minor foot injuries (if you can call losing a bunch of toenails minor) really sapped my energy on the last two days. I'm very glad I have a whole weekend to recover.

Working pretty much from the time I woke up until the time I went to bed, I didn't have many chances to take pictures. And I really, really wanted to, because the kids were super cute and the place was beautiful. We stayed at a large campsite in Chichibu, Saitama, and it was full of pretty flowers and amazing bugs. Beatles of every kind, butterflies and moths, stick insects, praying mantises, and more. And all of them super-sized! I remember being scared of the bugs at camp when I was a kid, but these bugs put those wimpy Canadian bugs to shame. Yet they were mostly the good kind of bugs, with very few mosquitos and creepy spiders. I actually stopped being impressed by the giant stick insects by about the third day. Anything under 15 cm and I'd be like "Oh whoop-dee-do. Another giant stick insect."

Despite the lack of pictures (and toenails), I had a great time and can't wait to do it next year. Or maybe even this December, since there's a winter camp as well. I wonder if hating the cold and not being able to ski will be a problem...

Anyway, here are a few pictures that I did manage to take:

Okinawa Day 6: last day

These pictures were taken on my flight home to Tokyo on Tuesday, my last day in Okinawa. And what a waste of a day it was!

I had originally planned to just walk around Naha, visiting the Tsuboya Pottery District and the markets, taking lots of pictures and buying souvenirs. But I already did that on Friday, so I had to figure out something to do. There wasn't really enough to do in Naha, but with a 4:30 flight to catch I couldn't go very far either.

So I decided to visit the Japanese Naval Underground Headquarters, a series of tunnels and underground rooms where the navy had been headquartered during WWII. Towards the end of the war 4000 soldiers committed suicide in the tunnels (or were killed by their officers). Yup, sounded like a good way to leave Okinawa on a nice cheery note!

But first I needed breakfast. I walked up and down Kokusai Dori looking for a place to eat, but it was still early and nothing was open other than a Dotour coffee shop. Of course- this is a tourist area and the tourists all eat at their hotels. So I headed away from the main street in search of a more local place. I was really hoping to eat something I couldn't find in Tokyo- breakfast can be the most interesting meal of the day and I was curious to see what Okinawans eat in the morning. But nothing was open. I headed to Kencho (the Prefectural Government Offices), figuring that there must be some good local places catering to the workers there. But no. Apparently Okinawans all eat breakfast at home.

By that time I was near the bus terminal, which is where I needed to catch my bus to the Navy Headquarters. So I decided to head out and try to find breakfast there. I had a brochure with me that gave clear instructions: at the Naha Bus Terminal, take bus #10, #33 or #46. Seems easy enough, but the terminal is huge and has few signs. There are also no indoor spaces (at least none that were open yet) and it was already blazing hot. After wandering around I came to the conclusion that bus #10 didn't exist, but I did find the stop for the other two. The schedule said they'd both be coming in a few minutes, so I sat down and waited.

And waited. 45 minutes later, #46 came rolling up and I jumped up and boarded, leaving a puddle of sweat on the seat behind me. It was wonderful to be on the  bus. The air conditioning was great, and Okinawan buses have comfier seats than Tokyo buses. Bus #46 soon went off the main road and I was treated to some great people watching. Small groups of people were gathered here and there, sitting on front doorsteps or standing in front of shops. They were just hanging out and shooting the shit, much like people do all over the world. But I never see people do this in Tokyo. I'd felt this before in Okinawa, but it seemed to me that people here were warmer than those in Tokyo, and valued friendship more.

This line of thought was interrupted when we pulled back into the bus terminal, after about a half-hour of driving. I decided it was a good time to ask the driver if I was on the right bus (why the hell didn't I do that when I boarded?), and was told that I wanted the other bus #46. He gave me directions to the stop and kindly waived my fee (this was a pay-as-you-leave kind of bus). So I headed to the bus stop (which was outside of the terminal, contrary to what the stupid brochure said). And almost an hour later no bus had come, and I was actually starting to feel faint from heat and hunger.

So I gave up and had lunch.

I went to a place near Kencho called Manjumai. It had been closed on my earlier search but was now packed full of locals, which I took as a good sign. I ordered the goya champuru teishoku, a lunch combo of goya champuru (bitter melon stir-fried with egg, tofu and meat) with rice and soup. This champuru was made with canned corn beef instead of the usual pork or Spam, and the first bite was really good- rich and strongly flavoured. By the 5th bite it felt like I was eating pure grease I couldn't finish a bite without a mouthful of rice and a few sips of water. As hungry as I was, I just couldn't finish it. The soup was really good though- a clear broth with a big rich, fluffy ball of soft tofu. I think it could have had some egg mixed in. I would have asked what it was called, but the place was super busy.

With plenty of time left I went to the tiny Naha City Museum of History in the nearby Palette Kumoji building, which had apparently opened just a few days before. They had a small exhibit of royal treasures, including a beautiful crown (more like a hat, really) adorned with dozens of beautiful beads made of precious stones.

Next I headed to Earthtrip to do a souvenir exchange. I dropped off some souvenirs I wasn't able to give the night before, entrusting them to a staff member. And she gave me a big bag of sata-andagi (Okinawan donuts made with local brown sugar) made that morning by Totetsu's grandmother. Has there ever been a better souvenir than that?

And then I headed to the airport, two hours early. I was sure I'd be able to find something to do, but it turns out that eating and shopping were my only options.

So imagine my delight when I got a call from Yuna, who I had met on my cross-Japan tour in March. She had been with us for just a few days in Hokkaido, but I had really really liked her. She lives in Naha and I'd tried to get in touch with her without luck, and had been really disappointed at not being able to meet her. And now she was coming to the airport to meet me! We hung out at a coffee shop until, which totally made my day and made me forget about the rather disappointing previous 24 hours.

I love it when that kind of thing happens.

That night I arrived home to a wonderful dinner made by my husband, who was too busy working to actually eat it with me but I was too tired to mind. And then I went to sleep, feeling a combination of sadness at my vacation being over and relief to be home.

Manjumai
11:00 am to 10:00 pm
098-867-2771
3-9-23 Kumoji, Naha-shi, Okinawa

Okinawa Day 5: Hiji Waterfall and Nakamura-ke

Emi flew home to Tokyo early on Monday, and I headed back to Earthtrip to go on another tour. This time I felt really uncomfortable-- rather than being a "monitor" and getting a free tour, I had to pay. I thought this was shitty but felt obliged to go along with it (I'm such a wuss). Actually I had never wanted to do any tours at all to begin with, free or not. I had only wanted to meet up with them and hang out. You know, as friends. But I guess everyone has a different definition of what "friends" means.

So Daisuke, Totetsu, Ben and Yui were my guides, and we drove up to the northern part of the island in the same van used for our Magic Journey cross-country tour in March. It was really weird to be in the van again, and it felt like we were back on tour. Especially the feeling uncomfortable part.

After stopping to see a the Hinpun Gajimaru (a large banyan tree in the middle of the a street in Nago) and buy some fruit at a green grocers, we went to Hiji Falls. We walked through the river for 1.5 km or so, stopping once in a while to swim or check out the critters. Or rather, I stopped and the others just kind of waited around until I was done. Patient folks.

So what kind of critters did we see? Frogs, a newt, fish, crawfish (or were they freshwater shrimp?) a big fat eel, a praying mantis, dozens of beautiful dragonflies, a snake and a pretty red bird. As you can imagine, I was thrilled.

The river ended at the impressive falls, and we stopped there for a while so I could swim around and play in the rushing water. On the way back we stayed out of the water and walked through the hills, and I was sad when it was finally time to go because I could easily have stayed all day. Next time I'll pack a lunch and do just that.

Lunch was at this little restaurant tucked away in the hills. We sat outside on a lovely wooden patio and enjoyed the view. The picture above is the view they had, and below is the view I had:

Oh well, at least the food was good. We had taco-rice, an Okinawan dish of taco fillings without the taco, served over rice. This was really good, with a different flavour than usual- a little less greasy and more soupy, with a slight sourness that couldn't have just been from the tomatoes. I really want to know what was in it.

Dessert was the passion fruit we'd bought earlier. This was my first time to try fresh passion fruit and I loved it- the pulp was tart and juicy, with pleasantly crunchy seeds.

Next we visited Nakamurake, the 18th century residence of the Nakamura family. Their house is considered typical of wealthy farming residences of the period and is well preserved.

In many ways, especially inside, the house is like a rustic version of a regular Japanese house, but certain touches like the red tile roof and limestone-paved courtyard make it distinctly Okinawan.

After Nakamurake we drove back to Earthtrip, where we cooled down a bit and made plans for dinner. I'll cover that in the next post.

Tonnes more pictures can be found in my Okinawa album.