Concrete Doilies

 Ah, Taka-meh-tsu!

In fact, I spent quite the pleasant day here in Takamatsu. Not that the city itself is anything more than a stereotypical Japanese urban sprawl. It does, however, have some redeeming features.

I spent the morning strolling through Ritsurin Garden. Not quite as dramatic as Kenroku-en, but a calm and peaceful oasis in which to spend a few delightful hours, eerie music piped through speakers notwithstanding. My favorite? A female elevator music interpretation of “Across the Universe”.  Highly recommended (the garden, NOT the song).  

Time to replenish my energy with a bowl of Udon noodles, the wormiest, and perhaps tastiest members of the noodle family. And you can literally add whatever the hell you like in that bowl.

Somehow in my Interweb ramblings I had stumbled across the Sanuki Kagari Temari Preservation  Society, which isn’t what it sounds like. Basically it’s a group of women who are keeping alive a traditional form of weaving that involves…ah, fuck it. I’ll simply show you the final products.

Amazing, no?

So, since I was in town, I dropped by, had a lovely chat with the daughter of the woman who started it all, consulted Sarah and Voila! The second blue ball from the left is now ours. Just doing my bit for culture.

And then on to the Museum of Art, where I knew they were having a special laquerware exhibition. I realize this is probably not the most fascinating subject for many people, but I am now officially a laquerware nerd (minus the knowledge), obsessed with this art form. Just look (and, believe me, these photos don’t do the pieces justice) and tell me these aren’t phenomenal

Unfortunately, I won’t be adding anything like this to my collection in the foreseeable future since I’ve learned they’re all in the “if you have to ask…” category. Pity.

And it wouldn’t be an entry without some food, would it? It’s entirely possible I’ve gotten into an Anthony Bourdain groove - yummy meals with a healthy dash of cynicism. Hopefully with a different final chapter.

Kawanishi Broiler is yet another of those hole-in-the-wall spots. The beer is $2.50 and the food is to die for. I had some gyoza and this - honetsukidori, or deep fried  bone-in chicken. Finger lickin’ good.

Japanese Fun Facts

Let’s talk parking - now that I’ve more or less mastered the art. As I’ve already mentioned, street parking doesn’t exist in Japan. Obviously, at some point in the past, The Powers That Be realized that with the number of incredibly narrow streets & alleys, there’s no possible way it would be feasible. Not that it stops every Tom, Dick and Yoshi from stopping, putting on his flashers and sitting there. It’s like a Pac-man obstacle course. But I assume there’s a limit. So if you’re sticking around, you have to use a parking lot, mostly set up like this:

You back over the metal strip and it rises up under your car so you ain’t going nowhere until you pay. When you want to leave, you type in your space number, pay up and voila! You’re free. You may notice there is no English whatsoever on the machine. You can only imagine how much time & trial & error was involved in figuring out how to use it. I still sometimes have trouble with ticket machines. I sit there, leaning out the window, while the pleasant woman robot’s voice ceaselessly continues to implore me, “Bibbity bobbity boo kudasai.” while every light on the machine flashes. In hotels, you often get this ingenious system:

You can see Teddy emerging from the bowels of the building on a rotating platform. Once I back out, they spin us on the turntable and off we go.

It’s all SO Japanese.