Langtang Valley Trek

Day 1: Syabru Bensi to Lama Hotel (2650m)

Set off with Govinda, across the cable bridge and up the valley, following the icy blue-grey Langtang river the whole way. Today we gained about 1000m in altitude, but I'm sure we ascended at least twice that as the path rose and fell, rose and fell, all morning, climbing over each fold of the valley only to return to the river. The trail was through woodland, with almost constant river views and conveniently punctuated by teahouses. Sat in one built out over the river and watched the slow process of getting cows across the river.

After a hearty dhal bhat lunch we climbed steeply, almost constantly. Often this meant huge stone steps and resulted in the rapid shedding of layers of clothing and occasional stops at the little lodges perched over the river.

The lodge at Lama Hotel was basic but cosy and welcoming. More dhal bhat. More tea.

Day 2: Lama Hotel to Langtang (3451m)

The trees thinned out, then disappeared, leaving shrubs, mountain views and the odd yak. The river bagan to fall away further below us, its water clearer and bluer. A steady day's climb up to Langtang. Almost no other trekkers on the route, but a constant trickle of porters stoically carrying improbable loads on their backs, straps straining against their foreheads - timber, traditional baskets of who knows what, massive bundles, and even one man with a stack of 8ft by 4ft plywood. Just watching these men and women could make you tired and certainly made me more than willing to pay the prices which rose with altitude for the few things I bought during the trek (ie coke and loo paper).

An excellent garlicky dhal bhat. A cold night - woke at 3am to see temperature in bedroom was 1 degree.

Day 3: Langtang to Kanjin Gompa (3960m)

Thought about a quick wash before breakfast (ie splash on face) but the tap was frozen, the only sink being outside. Porridge by the kitchen fire seemed a better option.

A couple of steep climbs, but much of the day's walk was flattish, undulating. The scenery was awe-inspiring, snowy peaks, glaciers, craggy rock and barren moorland - quite magnificent. Although the sun blazed down and I was soon defrosted and hiking in a t-shirt, streams remained semi-frozen. We reached Kanjin Gompa in time for lunch (more dhal bhat), then I pottered off along the valley towards another glacier and iced-up stream that cut through the scree. Truly monumental views, momentous scenery that touches the soul.

Returning to the lodge, I met a couple of other trekkers - almost the first we've come across. It was good to chat before they headed off back down.

Another cold night - one of the people I met said his water had frozen in his room last night. So I filled my bottle with hot from the kitchen and kept it in my sleeping bag. A win-win situation, I'd say.

Day 4: Kanjin Gompa to Kanjin Ri (4590m) and down to Langtang

A stiff climb up to the ridge at Kanjin Ri, but worth every step - standing on the ridge looking out across the Langtang range, the peaks and glaciers, the icy wind ripping, the sun beating down - magnificent.

Back to Kanjin Gompa for lunch, tea and a rest before heading back down to Langtang. Still exhilarated and gasping with wonder at the scenery, but already feeling sorry that I was now on the way back. Stayed in a busy lodge in Langtang, for the first time, packed with other merry trekkers.

Day 5: Langtang to Lama Hotel

Clean socks never felt so good! An easy walk down to Lama, arriving early afternoon. Sat in the sun playing rummy with Govinda. Removed my hat for a couple of hours, for the first time in at least 48 hours - seemed to have developed matted dog hair. Fortunately I haven't seen a mirror for days. In the evening, sat by the fire playing rummy and drinking Nepali whisky. A very mellow day.

Day 6: Lama Hotel to Syabru Bensi

We covered the ground quickly, despite stopping for refreshment a few times. Hard on the knees, down down down. Nice to see places I remembered from on the way up, but after the barren days at altitude it still all looked interesting and maybe different seen from the other direction.

Arrived in the early afternoon and enjoyed a warm shower. Removed underwear and t-shirt for first time in a week. Dressed in clean clothes, I ran my hands through my hair over and over, wondering at the clean soft sensation. Ordered fried noodles for dinner, but Govinda insisted that this was only a snack - turned out to be enough for two people, but by then we had added 'snicker roll' to the order... Knocked socks off the famed Scottish fried Mars bar - this was a snickers wrapped in a generous blanket of doughnut and deep fried. And there were two of it! I spent the rest of the evening sharing beers with the wonderful Govinda who has been not only a great guide, but a good friend and companion all the way.

What a fabulous trek!

Now just the return bus journey to deal with...

Kathmandu to Syabru Bensi

I'd been warned that the bus trip would be a bit of a switchback, but I didn't expect to be zig-zagging on broken roads within 500 yards of departure. Tightly squeezed between my backpack and my trekking guide, I balanced on a seat only marginally attached to the body of the bus.

It took 8 hours to cover the 135km to get here. The views down into the valleys were awesome, but tended to begin about an inch from our wheels. I began to relish the untarmacked sections that slowed us down, but even these became quite a white-knuckle experience when we lurched across the rubble of last summer's landslides, clinging somehow to our narrow track. Meeting oncoming vehicles demanded even greater precision. Where the most precarious corners coincided with washed away road was generally where the bus driver chose to re-tune the radio and light a cigarette. I opted for an eyes-closed policy.

When bravely opening my eyes I was treated to occasional snow-capped mountains, steeply terraced hillsides, rivers churning far below, neatly uniformed children walking to mud-floored schoolrooms, naked toddlers playing in the dirt, villages full of people living simple lives, cooking over open fires, carrying enormous baskets of vegetables, drinking tea.

Eight hours is a lot of blaring Indian music and a lot of men throwing up out of windows and old ladies throwing up neatly into their skirts. I was quite glad to get off and into the tiny village of Syabru Bensi.

Kathmandu

Arriving in Kathmandu is like stepping back in time. A searchlight swoops the sky above the runway as you cross the tarmac to the terminal. Then you walk down bleak glass and brick corridors straight from a 1970's school. In the baggage hall the conveyor soon fills up with thousands of intricately rope-bound boxes and bundles, interspersed only occasionally with a suitcase. The novelty of watching these rotate and fall off wears thin after an hour or so. Another half hour later, my bag finally stumbles in.

Prakash, the delightful manager of my hotel, has come to meet me. We drive through a maze of crowded, semi-surfaced streets, where groups of people huddle round pavement fires and here and there a cow grazes on a pile of rubbish. Houses look half-built and everywhere are patches of wasteland and piles of bricks or rubble.

The hotel is simple and welcoming. I down a curry and an Everest beer and sleep and sleep.

In the morning I meet the wonderful Bharat, who has been organising my trip through a series of emails these last few weeks. He assures me that all is sorted, he will arrange rental of a warm sleeping bag and help in any way he can. Then I hop onto the back of his motorbike so he can show me the way to Thamel. Which turns out to be only a matter of yards.

ATM, coffee, then shopper's paradise: hundreds of shops crammed to the rafters with fake outdoor brands. That is, "Genuine fake". 75 quid later I am kitted out with a North Fake down jacket, windstopper trousers and windstopper shell and sitting drinking tea in the back of the shop with the owner. Snugly wrapped (and in love with down jacket) I potter some more, picking up trekking snacks, medical supplies and lunch before giving in to the urge to go back to the hotel for a snooze.

In the afternoon I meet up with Bharat again, pay him and make arrangements for tomorrow, before wandering out again. Beer and food at the Funky Buddha round the day off nicely.

Köpu to Pärnu

35km

Koguvu to Köpu

94km

Kuresaare to Koguva

83km...

Liesi to Kuresaare

53km.. details to follow

Kärdla to Velupe / Liesi

73km... details to follow

Haapsalu to Kärdla - the bike trip begins

35km
Our cycle tour began with a 6am pick-up for the drive to Haapsalu where we were dropped off with our bikes and maps and a cheery wave. We had breakfast by the sea followed by a pootle about the rather fine castle ruins before cycling the 9km to the ferry port. It always feels rather good to ride onto a car ferry and especially through the open-jaw bow which for some reason I like. It was a pleasant 90 minute crossing to the island of Hiiumaa, apart from watching a 25 kroon note fly out of my bag and over the sea. Though as this is less than two pounds I should really feel more guilty about littering the oceans.
To be continued....

Tallinn

The walled old town of Tallinn has been beautifully kept, or lovingly restored, somehow escaping modern development. A compact maze of cobbled streets weaves up and down, opening out here and there onto a small square by a church. The brightly painted buildings are tall and narrow, all different but built into continuous terraces, with occasional arches between them leading into ever narrower alleyways. Every street is lined with pavement cafes and bars. You can't go ten yards without a medievally dressed serving wench offering you sweet ginger-roasted almonds or beckoning you into a hostelry.
We ate in a 'medieval' restaurant (you can't fight it), served by the ubiquitous wenches and young men in tunics, tights and pointy shoes. The dishes served were supposedly medieval and definitely quite good. As was the cinnamon beer.
Another good stop-off for a quick snack was a little olde pie shop, serving nothing but three varieties of pasty-like pie (elk and mushroom was very tasty), beer in clay pots and soup. When Gursh (who I'm here with for the bike tour) asked the serving wench for a coke she told him he'd have to come back in five hundred years, which I thought was a pretty neat response. Wandering the streets of the old walled city made for a very pleasant afternoon and evening, despite the overpowering medieval theme and endless souvenir shoppes. It would be easy to drift from cafe to cafe all day.

Tokyo

I arrived here on Monday afternoon and strolled up the road from my hostel in Asakusa to Senjosi temple. The approach to the temple was a small street lined with a tourist market, but best of all were the guys advertising, and operating, a running rickshaw service. Clad in faded, well worn bike shorts and uniform tops, these young men ran, pulling rickshaw-like carriages. I stood and feasted for so long on the sight of their well-toned muscular thighs, as they casually hitched up the hem of a shorts-leg here and there, that of course I was soon approached with the offer of a ride. I decided against explaining that I was only interested in their legs and moved on.
Yesterday was a big city day. Got up with one of my dorm-mates at five o'clock to visit Tsukiji fish market. Visitors are no longer allowed into the tuna auction, but we managed to find ourselves on the edge what looked like the post-auction collection point, or similar, where huge frozen tuna were being lugged about. Apparently the best of them sell for something like three million Yen. Elsewhere in the market the fish, newly bought at auction, were being cut up - those that were still frozen were whizzed through a bandsaw, fresh ones cut up by hand. Every kind of seafood imaginable was there, three foot long octopus tentacles were being curled int plastic bags, sea-cucumbers lurked unattractively and squid were being held up for inspection.

Later in the morning I set out again, this time for Akihabara - electric town. I trawled various stalls and shops looking for sushi-shaped usb sticks to no avail. I imagine you can buy any bit of electronicsy stuff you could ever want here but I wasn't too excited by tray after tray of miniscule computer components. Still, the place was buzzing with gaudy shop fronts, sales pitch and even a maid cafe.

Next stop was Kiddyland - a shop famed for its plethora of kitsch. Hello Kitty may be king here (or should that be queen?) but the shop had a whole Snoopy floor. Exhausted by the Stuff on offer I retired to the storefront to enjoy a Hello Kitty ice-cream.

Strength restored, I walked down to Shibuya to witness what might be the world's busiest pedestrian crossing (supposedly). It was fairly manic, a four way intersection, so four zebras - one across each road - as well as diagonals. Unfortunately it wasn't rush hour, so my photos don't look quite as good as others I have seen. From here I went to Shinjuku, where I visited a couple of enormous camera shops to track down a new battery. And play with lots of cameras on display while trying not to be too tempted by any of them. By the time I left, it was six o'clock, so Shinjuku station was fairly busy. I've been through it a few times now and there is rather a lot of it. Apparently it has 60 exits and more than 3 million people pass through it every day.

Today I set off for Tsukudocho, near Kagurazaka to see something closer to old-Tokyo charm. The area is full of tiny narrow roads lined with houses, cafes and bars and made a nice contrast to yesterday's bright lights. I then went to Koishikawa Korakuen - a walled garden that proved to be a very attractive haven of calm with its lake, streams and pathways that wandered up little hillocks and over bridges. It even contained a small rice paddy, planted by someone who wanted his wife, who came from a rich family, to understand the hardships endured by peasants. In the distance the peak of a rollercoaster could be seen... so off I went in search of the beast.


The coaster was "Thunder Dolphin" at Tokyo Dome. It whizzed over, and through, buildings as well as through the middle of a spokeless ferris wheel. Well, I suppose with a spoked one it might have presented a problem. Of course, I had to have a go... The guys operating the ride waved us off as if we were dear friends going away for a year and when we returned they clapped our amazing achievement with delighted smiles. I stepped off, my hair pointing backwards and 90 degrees to the back of my head. It was fast. The initial hill was at least twice as high as the mall below and the view from the top was amazing, but unfortunately we didn't hang around there for long. The first drop was terrific - so steep it felt like freefall (it isn't) and apparently over 80 mph.

Kawaguchiko and around

Kawaguchiko

Fuji-san peeking through the cloud, seen from Mt Kachikachi yesterday

The path down from Kachikachi

Mount Fuji from Kawaguchiko, earlyish this morning before the clouds rolled in

Fuji from Okinawa - somewhere a little below 5th station where the road ends and most hikers begin their climb

Shengen Shrine - traditional start of the Fuji-san pilgrimage.
Saw a few pilgrim-walkers setting off, dressed all in white with bells on. Literally.

Informative map of ice cave

What not to do in the ice cave

Masa in the ice-cave. The blocks have been cut from further inside the cave.

Icicles in the cave

Icicles again. The temperature in the cave was zero. It drops to minus 3 at its coldest. Walking towards the entrance, then down into the cave, you can feel the temperature drop in sudden steps. When American forces were stationed here they built a dance hall in the entrance to caves to make the most of this natural airconditioning.

Oh look, icicles. Well, icicle stalagmites.

Mount Fuji from the shore of Motosuko

This is the viewpoint used for the illustration on the 1000 yen note.
Presumably on a clearer day.

Gardens on shore of Kawaguchiko, just before the storm

One night in Tokyo

My extra day in Nikko has made it less worth going somewhere else on my way to Fuji, so I decided I'd just have a night in Tokyo on my way through. That gave me an afternoon pottering in the area close to my hotel and Shinjuku station. After a pub lunch I wandered through the red light district and into a shop that the guide book billed as Tokyu Hands' trashy cousin. It was quite beguilingly trashy, sucking you in to the point when you really start to believe that Hello Kitty bud earphones are just what you need. Guitar strings are shelved next to vibrators, cheap underwear with umbrellas and kids' toys next to rubber clothing. In the midst of all this mega-trash are useful items like electric fans and toasters, but they are balanced by the rows of false eyelashes and strangely shaped i-pod speakers that look like, among other things, big lego blocks.

Hiker's lunch

Rice-balls... standard hiking or train travel lunch. The excitement is never knowing what filling you're getting (unless, unlike me, you can read the labels). Haven't been disappointed yet.

Nikko Highlands

A perfect day. Idyllic hiking in stunning mountains under a bright blue sky. I am still glowing with the pleasure of it all.

Took the bus up the winding pass to Akechi-daira, where I caught a short cable car ride up then began a fairly stiff climb through the woods. An hour later I stood atop a hill looking down at Lake Chuzenji shimmering far below, surrounded by hills with little wisps of cloud clinging to their summits. I sat and gazed, awe-struck, as I munched on the first mystery rice ball of the day, before beginning the long descent. The route was fairly clear, though with signs all in Japanese I had to be fairly careful whenever the path split.

After a quick milk-shake break at Chuzenji-ko, I hopped back on the bus and rode up to Ryuzu falls. A long flight of steps followed the falls which cascaded down over a long series of small drops. From the top another hiking trail led off through the woods, first following the river then across marsh land where the views opened up again and each turn gave another reason to draw a deep breath and reach for the camera. Meeting the Yugawa river again, I continued, somewhat plagued by enormous parties of schoolchildren enjoying the flat boardwalk route and putting paid to any idea I had of stripping off and leaping into a refreshing bit river. Further on the path passed more waterfalls and finally another big drop, Yu-daki falls, before topping out at Yumoto Lake where a sulphorous perfume wafted on the breeze - the local hot springs very much in evidence. The path round the lake made for a pleasant stroll, bringing me to the tiny village of Yumoto Onsen. I couldn't find an obviously open-to-the-public onsen to bathe away any hiking aches, but I did find the hot springs source, where hot water bubbled up through the mud. And then I chanced upon a public footbath where I sat and bathed my feet and hoped that the hot water might prevent my calves from seizing up again. Slipping my socks and shoes back on I walked away with my feet positively glowing and pulsating happy-waves. And I have to say that so far I have no aches from today's hiking - a total of about five hours - though whether this is due to the restorative hot waters or the fact that I am finally getting those muscles used to working again, I can't say.

This area above Nikko is breathtakingly beautiful. The hiking trails are enough to set me to thinking that I wouldn't mind living in Tokyo, knowing that all this is only a couple of hours away. And I would dearly love another day or two here to do some more hiking. What else can I say? Nikko, and its highlands, is the absolute highlight of this trip so far.

Nikko

Nikko rocks. This place is fabulous. Surrounded by hills and cascading water, it is a cutesy little tourist town perched beside the world heritage area for which it is famed, packed with shrines and temples. I spent the morning taking in many of these, then walked to Gamman-Ga-Fuchi abyss where a hundred or more jizu statues line a path through the wood beside a fabulous creek full of gushing rapids and more clear, cold-looking water. Back in town I stopped at a lovely, tiny cafe for some excellent yaki-udon (and shared a table with two french ladies who carefully unwrapped bundles from their handbags to produce their own knives and forks!). If you're ever in Nikko, I can't recommend this place enough - it's called Hippari Dako and everything everyone was eating looked and smelled as good as mine. And the sweet little lady who served me put on a very good show of being delighted with my attempts at Japanese, e.g. that was delicious... the bill please. Well, at least I tried!
This afternoon I took a bus up to Chuzenji-ko where I visited the impressive waterfall, Kegon-no-taki. As well as enjoying the stunning views from the top of the falls, I took the lift to the bottom. An elevator shaft has been bored 100m down through the rock and on stepping out at the bottom I found myself in a decidedly chilly tunnel - the waterfall obviously makes a very good air-conditioner. Along the tunnel, down a couple of flights of steps, and suddenly there you are enjoying a misty spray of water surrounded by the thunder of the falls. Back at the top, I had a stroll by the lake and a very good ice-cream before catching a bus back down the perilous pass to Nikko. The bus ride had fabulous views, hairpin bends numbered up to forty-something (about 25 of them on the down route) and was the sort of journey that had me very glad to be, for once, in a country where driving seems to depend more on care, skill and mechanically sound vehicles than a faith in god and a willingness to meet him sooner rather than later.
The scenery in this area is stunningly beautiful. Getting around on buses is easy peasy with a 'free pass' (nothing free about it, but it gives unlimited travel) and buses with electronic displays in English as well as Japanese telling you which stop is next. I got back to town with a definite spring in my step, stocked up on hiking supplies for tomorrow and managed to get a mountain of food for my dinner by pointing at a picture menu. Spurred on by my lunchtime success, I decided to try another Japanese phrase. However, my attempt to say, 'I'd like this please,' added a degree of confusion to what had been a straightforward transaction - I had to sign-language 'forget that' and settle for a basic point and smile.

Kamishiro to Nikko

Another complicated 5-transfer train journey. It started very scenically, the train criss-crossing the river as it wound its away along a narrow little valley, heading towards the north coast. The water ran rapidly, crystal clear and icy blue. We were snapped by dozens of trainspotters at every bridge - no notebooks and flasks here - it's all photos. By train three, I was following the coast, hills still rising on the other side of the track. Train four was a shinkansen (bullet train), heading south and after a ridiculously long tunnel we popped out into flat land. The journey was punctuated by random snacks and an entertaining JR catalogue - makes 'Innovations' look dull. Duller. More of that another time - I have photos of the weird and wonderful goods on offer! Train five was another shinkansen and then I was onto the Nikko line, chugging gently towards my destination. Which I have to say looks rather nice.

JR shopping catalogue

Obviously make your feet feel good.

No idea

Well, at least this one's obvious - a dummy that plays a tuning fork and improves your posture.

And I can really see a use for this handy roll-up piano

The cartoon says it all

How many Japanese women actually need to shave their backs?

Ah, sanitary pads for armpits

And sanitary pads for armpits that you wear on your elbows??

Kamishiro

I don`t want to leave. This place is gorgeous. It has the permanent Sunday-morning feel that being an out-of-season ski-resort brings, semi-deserted, calm and stunningly beautiful. Kamishiro is a tiny village a few kilometres along the valley from Hakuba, in the northern Japan Alps. Densely wooded mountains rise on all sides of the village, snow still streaking the gullies of their upper slopes. It`s like living in a chocolate box, steeply roofed buildings in all manner of designs are dotted beside the little lanes of the village.

My first day here I took the gondola lift up the mountain, then walked through misty cloud on a path flanked on either side by lush greenery to the peak, Kotomi, at 2007 m. It was a pity that the cloud obscured what views there might have been, but it was pure bliss to be up a mountain, breathing the fresh air ripe with the surrounding greenery. I met a few cheery hikers on the way, those who could expressed their amazement at the sight of a solo hiker - not to mention a solo female traveller who can`t speak Japanese. This is not a country where many people do things on their own. At the summit I was roped in to join the group photo of a large group of lovely old men who insisted on pressing food onto me. Back at the bottom gondola station the water-jump was in use - a couple of small ski-jumps on a dry slope which provided a landing zone in the form of a swimming pool.　I walked back up to watch various snowboarders and skiers whizz down the jump, perform various spins and somersaults, then land with a cracking splash in the pool. And just to prove how important fashion is to these freestylers, I was pleased to note that over their wetsuits and life-jackets they had taken the trouble to pull on baggy board shorts and enormous logo-encrusted t-shirts. Refreshing as it looked, I declined the invitation to have a go. After returning to the hostel I took the train to Hakuba where I had a brief potter around and a look at a nice little park by the river with a few thatched buildings, a miniature suspension bridge and a decorative water wheel. Later in the evening the manager of the hostel took everyone (it`s nice and quiet - not exactly a full hostel) to see the fireflies nearby. There weren`t thousands, but there were enough to make a captivating show as they blinked in the ditches and trailed greenly by in low-level flight. It was starting to rain and lightning flickered constantly, adding a strange dimension as it obliterated the fireflies` glow but lit up the surroundings in its startling white flicker.

Yesterday I joined two other travellers from my hostel and took the bus to the Happo ski area in Hakuba, where we took a gondola and two chair lifts up the mountain to do some more walking. Forty minutes or so took us to Happo Ike - a pretty little pond at 2060m. Still stiff from yesterday`s exertions, I sat a while longer while my companions began the ascent towards the main summit and was rewarded with a brief clearing of the mist/cloud. I decided that a little more gentle exercise was in order and continued the climb for another half hour or so, until the path became enclosed by foliage and the intermittent views (cloud dependent) disappeared. I knew I didn`t have the fitness for the summit, so instead enjoyed a leisurely descent. Despite a long hot soak in the bath, my calves were so tight from the unaccustomed climbing, or maybe the descent, that I could barely hobble down the stairs that evening.

This morning, down-stairs movement was still a problem, so after a lie-in and late breakfast I decided to punish some different muscles and hired a bike. I cycled to Aoki Lake, a beautiful stretch of deep green water (though no doubt much of the colour is due to the reflection of the forested hills that surround it) and on and round a neighbouring smaller, but equally stunning, lake. Both of them could be circled using paths or little-used single-track roads, making for idyllic cycling conditions. On the way back I diverted from the road and took a track between the rice fields, bimbling along enjoying sun, solitude and serenity. By early evening, showered and relaxed, I was ravenous and strolled down through the village one last time in search of dinner. I ate some good Japanese food and as I meandered back to the hostel in the last of the day`s light I felt unbelievably good and realised with a pang that I really don`t want to leave this place. I could so happily just stay here till it`s time to go home, enjoying the best hostel I`ve ever stayed in, the mountain scenery, the walks and bike rides I still haven`t taken, the peace and ease of life here. This is truly a place to remember, to come back to.

Hiroshima to Kamishiro

Set off on this epic train journey slightly unsure what to expect, but the Shinkansen were running fine, with up to 5 minute delays. The rain had stopped and I enjoyed watching bits of Japan fly by in between the countless tunnels. Three trains and some curious sandwiches later, I had made it to Nagoya just in time to miss my connection. I was clearly already off the tourist trail as there was no train information in English here, but I spotted a sign for the Oito Line and with a dose of positive thinking managed to find my way onto the right train - a little local one that stopped about every two minutes. We chugged gently uphill for at least an hour, much of the time following an impressive river churning big white white water for stretches of, I reckon, about 20km at a time. But not one kayak in sight! The train carried on in the narrowing lush green valley, crossing many small wildly flowing rivers and channels, the villages and stations getter ever smaller until we seemed to be part of a toy train set. Another change followed, and my idea that staying put and waiting for the next train would probably be the answer was proved right during a simple conversation with a train driver that involved some pointing at a train and a watch and saying "Kamishiro?" Really getting the hang of this Japanese language. The journey continued slowly, the rain poured heavily and I peered hopefully out of the steamed up windows looking for station signs... Even managed to work the payphone on arrival to request pick-up from the station! Despite the rain, low cloud and darkness, this area looks very promising. Kamishiro is near Hakuba, in the Japan Alps, and in winter is a popular ski resort. The buildings all look rather alpine, with definite hints of Swiss or Norwegian design. Now all I need is a break in the rain so I can get out there for hiking, biking, climbing.... Does St Swithun have jurisdiction in Japan?