Writing with Light...

From infinity by Shinkansen to Himeji...and it's castle, made famous by appearing in countless movies of samurai and ninja, storming up it's seemingly endless steps...



But inside, and high in the roof, the last bastion to be defended is the coolest of chambers, the old wooden floor shiny and squeaky - a nightingale floor; so called so that intruders could easily be heard.



I love the light reflecting the frame upon the floor...

Last Night's Sunset Through The Rain

There are times,



When I wonder



Why...



I ever bought



A television.



Never doubted buying a Leica...

More Bonsai Photos *

There was no evidence that a fork lift truck had entered the house in order to position the bonsai, and so I imagine that it was a small army of gardeners, or an army of small gardeners... brought in to do the job. The person walking to the right was a 'normal' sized Japanese woman in her middle age, and I did not ask her name although she did say, Hello....



This was about 6 foot tall or so, 1m83-ish



These were both much smaller again, about 3 foot or so, a metre tall.



Some were exquisite, and their perfume filled the house. Glad I don't suffer from asthma, or hayfever...



The interior walls as in most tradionally designed Japanese house can slide so as to be moved to enlarge or to make smaller, a room. Some of these sliding walls are easily removed entirely.



This specimen was probably no taller than about 1 metre including the size of the pot...

And then.... when I needed to find a loo, I slid open one wall panel/door and found myself in the most beautiful little calm zen garden built between the house I was visiting and the house next door. A tranquil little space, not wasted, in which to chew the fat, chew to cud or just go, "Omm" in, with the neighbours...



* Due to enormous public demand....

In praise of tourist offices...

Grasping a guidebook the Gaijin & his girl get off at the gare and grab a cab...

Under arm, in hand the tomes plain to see, Lonely Planet, Rough Guide, Fodor or Cadogan; there should be a guide to guidebooks.

Does no-one use Tourist Offices anymore?

We are now in an age when tourists refuse to be tourists. What me a tourist? Heavens no, dear boy! Me, I'm a traveller. I do it all meself, on the Net. But the Tourist Office always sits there waiting for someone to walk in and ask, that is all just ask... They await you with a smile and maybe something else a little special....

But us? We had our Lonely Planet guide and arriving in Nara off the local train service from Kyoto we needed to find an ATM for yet more yen before we could do much else. We could not see where we were on the map in the guidebook and, bizarrely, as the Japanese seem to print maps upside down, the plan of the town erected by a wall on the pavement was no real help either.

"There's a tourist office," Mrs Pondlife said helpfully. "We'll ask in there." In we go - Hello, we're travellers you know, not tourists but we need to find an ATM.

Welcomed by a smiling woman at the counter she greets us in English, reaches for a map and indicates where we are, the location of the nearest International ATM and then asks where we are from? France I reply as Mrs Pondlife says, we are English. It always confuses. Do they mean where are you from or what is your nationality? Not necessarily the same thing.

But no matter, after explanations that take seconds and card filling for management feedback, she looks at us and asks,

"Do you like bonsai?"

Yes, I blurt and tell her I have a few at home. No not in Engrand, but Flance. She moves aside and takes a bright coloured flyer off a shelf and gives it to us and marks on the map she has in front of her, a cross.

"Here is bonsai. Wisteria, in private house. Free to foreigner. She gives me another flyer and the map and after prolonged thanks and bowing, we walk out into the sunshine and follow her directions to the private house, with open gates, and smiling owner gesturing us to enter. We are the only gaijin there and for the next hour we walk in our socks with Japanese visitors and a film crew, marvelling at the most beautiful bonsai'd wisteria imaginable...

Breathtaking in their perfume, staggering in their strength of trunk holding cascading shapes of the most beautiful blossoms, we walk from room to room fascinated.

If we hadn't entered that Tourist Office, we'd never have found this. It isn't in the guidebook.

Travel with a good guide books by all means, but don't forget the local Tourist Office which is usually free...

Ryoan-ji, Kyoto. A zen garden.

Once upon a time my darling wife and I drove 'ell for leather across the southern French countryside towards the chateau once owned by the Marquis de Sade...

Some years earlier we had made a similar journey to the roman arena in Arles...

Some years later it was the turn of the Colosseum in Rome...

And then on a whim we drove north from here to take the Route de Vin through the golden vineyards of the Alsace, our goal on this occasion was the fantastic square in Nancy, dedicated to some old bugger by another old bugger - but we could never tell as, with the other destinations, the statue, the chateau, the monument, the zen garden - was covered in scaffolding. A pointless waste of our time apart perhaps from having the golden nectar of an Alsace wine slipping down the gullet...or the chance to ride the Shinkansen and eat from a bento box at the same time; but the tourist offices never advise that the intended glimpse of some far off splendour will be if not obliterated, then certainly spoilt, by scaffolding.

As it was to be at Ryoan-ji in Kyoto. A pilgrimmage to a place of study and contemplation awaited for so many years...

In we go and .... bollocks... completely covered by scaffolding and tarpaulins...

Yer gotta laugh though, haven't you?

A Part of Japan; Koya-san

The pilgrim waits for the Buddhist priest to beautifully write an entry in the record of the pilgrimage confirming this as a legitimate stop on the pilgrim's way...






Having done so, the pilgrim can continue until a time when he or she hopes the ash remains of the mortal part can reside here in Koya-san

Home from Japan

Somewhere over Northern Russia