As Konoura is buried deeper in more snow than the town has seen in years, and brutal snowball fights at the elementary school quickly identify which students are on the baseball team it seems about time to recount our Christmas trip to the warmer, sunnier south.
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| Nagasaki Peace Park |
A little more than half asleep I stood at Haneda International airport awaiting the arrival of a very tall, very sun kissed Henry. After numerous hours of haunting Haneda Domestic terminal on my various trips I was able to make a beeline for Starbucks after checking our bags in - a western breakfast, so few and far inbetween.
Though Henry had just come from the warmest Wellington summer in a while, Akita was once again under a good couple of feet of snow and as a result I relished being able to explore Nagasaki with my pasty white arms exposed to the world.
We visited St. Mary’s Cathedral and the various peace monuments as well as the atom bomb museum. That evening we took the ropeway up Mt. Inasa for night views of the city before treating ourselves to a (rather flash) Izakaya dinner and a stroll along the Dejima wharf.
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| Dejima Wharf |
Many of Nagasaki’s tourist attractions appear to be related to one of two points in history; the atomic bomb in 1945 and Nagasaki’s role as the only international trading port in Japan during the countries self imposed isolation in the Edo period. We explored the latter on our second day in Nagasaki.
After eating a combini breakfast on the wharf we meandered through the various parts of town that had been influenced by the presence of the Dutch, the only westerners permitted in Japan during the 200 year isolation who were restricted to the man made island of Dejima. Western style buildings with tatami mats under western furniture offered a snippet of the mixing of cultures during this period.
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| Glover Garden |
Finishing our stroll through the Glover Garden we indulged in a delectable pork bun before stumbling upon a small waffle cafe (I nearly jumped for joy when Henry said he wouldn’t mind western food). The cafe had the appearance of a small English pub (from what little I know about them) with a dark wood interior, complete with owner donning a waistcoat.
Our pot lapsang Souchong tea (which I had tried for the first time in New York and hadn’t had since then) was served wrapped in a tea cosy - incidentally this shop was the epitome of cosiness.
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| Eight Flag Tea Shop |
The outside however was not. Just as we left the cafe the heavens opened and we were caught in a torrential 15 minute downpour, leaving us slightly soggy as we picked up our rental car and began our journey east, hitting many closed roads (due to the April 2016 Kumamoto earthquake) on our way to Aso.
