Since we had swapped the suitcases for a backpack the day before, there was no need to do anything about the luggage once we’d checked out of the Urban Hotel the next morning and prepared to head for Himeji.
Since we’d eaten well the night before also meant there was no immediate need for breakfast, so it was a case of straight onto the train and off for further sakura-viewing.
We managed to find two seats opposite a Cub Scout troop on their way somewhere, prompting Hughesy to reflect that nine-year-old boys tend to be much the same the world over.
Having finished work two-and-a-bit years ago, I don’t remember much about Year Four school excursions, but the behaviours I was watching on the seats across the aisle looked uncannily familiar.
Once we reached Himeji crowds heading down the avenue from the station to the castle should have warned us that things were about to become crowded.
I didn’t realise how many people use sakura and a sunny Saturday as an excuse for a day out.
Subsequent information suggests a figure somewhere more than seventy thousand.
We took a break to grab breakfast at a noodle outlet, and a successful attempt at using chopsticks.
That’s an achievement I was, for some inexplicable reason, unable to repeat.
Nourished, we felt ready to join the queues forming at the entrance to the castle grounds.
Alarm bells should well and truly have been ringing at this point. But once we’d passed into the extensive grounds within the castle’s outer walls the presence of vast areas of blue tarps under the trees and musical entertainment in the background suggested it mightn’t be too bad once we’d paid the admission fee and passed into the castle proper.
The castle dates back to 1609 and is considered Japan’s most spectacular structure of its kind, mainly because it has survived for four hundred years without falling victim to fire, earthquake or enemy action.
James Bond fans will recognize it as the secret ninja training school, and rocket centre from You Only Live Twice. Tom Cruise wandered through artificial snow and the castle grounds in The Last Samurai.
Inside, we followed the tour path through the West Bailey, past a long storehouse where rice and salt were stockpiled in case the castle was besieged and into the main donjon, noting the population density seemed to be increasing gradually.
Once we’d started the ascent to the upper levels of the main structure, we found the reason.
There was a steady stream of people being admitted to the grounds and embarking on the walk through the buildings. But this was reduced to a single line as they attempted to reach the upper levels of the castle.
Faced with an almighty squeeze and, more than likely, a lengthy wait, we bailed out of the tour as soon as the opportunity arose. Instead, we headed for the tranquillity of the gardens next door.
Himeji Kokoen was constructed as recently as 1992 to commemorate the centenary of the local municipality. While they may have been there for less than twenty years, nine separate gardens in the complex look like they’re much older.
While the gardens might have been better with autumn leaves, they were quite spectacular, and while plenty of people passed through, relatively uncrowded compared to the crush in the castle next door.
From the gardens, we had to hurry to meet up with Minnie, one of Madam’s High School friends, who presented ‘Er Indoors with a piece of work that’s gracing the living room as I write.
There wasn’t too much time for them to catch up on old times.
We had to find our way back to the station, stop off at Myodani to pack the suitcase that would carry clothes for the next (week-long) stage of the trip, return to downtown Kōbe, check-in, change and meet up with two more of Madam’s High School friends by six-thirty.
Which didn’t leave us a whole lot of time to catch our breath.
Once we’d alighted at Sannomiya, it was a matter of moving as fast as possible.
We checked in, changed, and then made a brief subway journey got us to the rendezvous on time.
I’d been warned the couple we were meeting knew their way around Kōbe’s restaurants, but I wasn’t expecting the high-class Chinese establishment where I found myself sipping beer and wondering how we were going to work the ordering.
In the long run, we entrusted ourselves to the chefs. We were rewarded with a succession of tasting plates covering a range of tastes and textures, though I must admit that the jellyfish starter had a texture that I, for one, wouldn’t have expected.
Jellyfish, you may be surprised to learn, is, if not quite crunchy, much firmer in texture than I would have expected.
Comments about Hughesy’s liking for a splash of chilli produced one extra-hot dish featuring a dried chilli that, it was suggested, I might prefer to avoid sampling.
The dish itself was wonderfully warm and faced with the lone dried chilli that remained on the plate. I abandoned any thought of discretion.
I certainly needed the two beers that were necessary to quell the flames, but it was very tasty.
As previously indicated, Hughesy’s taste buds don’t do subtle but throw a bit of chilli their way...
And the witnesses seemed impressed.
Once the meal was over we faced a ten-minute walk back to the hotel, so we bade farewell to our hosts for the night and headed back to recharge the batteries before the next day’s excursion to Kyoto.