2002-10-26 - 12:26 a.m.

October 20, 2002

(08:10)

Slept like a baby till nearly 7 a.m.

We are in the harbour, under tow by two tugboats, Harukaze at the stern and Futami at the bow. Shimonoseki looks a lot like Fukuoka, a modern harbour city, with factory smokestacks, glass and steel skyscrapers and so forth. It is surounded by dark green volcanic mountains.

(09:15) Passed through Immigration easily. They searched the American in front of me, an elderly hippie (balding and ponytail). I walked inland about half a kilometer from the ferry terminal, along a sidewalk lined with tall palm trees.

Found a "neighbourhood map" signpost which showed how the elevated walkways connect and was right next to an escalator to get me up onto them. I saw a park next to a temple, which looked like the most likely attraction within a Km. There's a white dog that looks like a Spitz or husky on a terrace halfway up the temple steps. I decided to eat my squid and rice crackers here in the park, so's not to attract him/her.

Squid ("oh-chawng-ah")tastes more like scallops than any other seafood I can think of, off-hand. Perhaps that's because their lifestyles are so similar, swimming freely in the wide ocean. In Korea, they come air-dried like salt cod or packed in plastic under pressure (to drive out all air) as soon as they are cooked in a salt brine with a dash of soy sauce. I got the pressure-packed because it's more tender. Puffed rice crackers, at least the kind I'm munching, are called "mee-nee-bbahng." They have just a hint of pepper and sweetness, saving them from total blandness. They're about the size of a 50-cent coin. Of course riding around in my backpack is hard on them, tucked between the popcorn and a jar of peanut butter.

Oh, Yeah! I meant to tell you about this great peanut butter, "Peanut Kids," manufactured by Producers Peanut Co., Inc., Suffolk, VA 23434, U.S.A. It is not as sweet as peanut butter you usually get in the States, though the label mentions sugar.

Sheesh, I just attracted a couple Japanese street people. The one with the bruised face and missing left eyebrow (looks like he's taken too many "roundhouse rights") was really persistant, wanting to know if I was American or Russian. His buddy, who had a hare-lip, pulled him away after a few minutes, bless his soul. He bowed and apologised in Japanese for the bruised drunk. It's 10:20 and I need to go exchange my ticket for a boarding pass at 10:30, so I'll go do that now.

(10:50) Gahk! When I went to pay the 600 yen boarding tax, I found I'd left my little bag with the Japanese money under my pillow aboard the ferry. Fortunately, a Korean lady was kind enough to trade me yen for won. It means I'll need to eat just what I brought with me until boarding time, i.e. 6 p.m. That's okay; I've got most of a gallon bag of popcorn plus nearly half a squid, rice crackers and peanut butter. If I can find a hot water dispenser, I've got coffee.

(15:10) Back at the park... Napped on a couch in the terminal from around 11:15 TO 12:30. A really good film about a Japanese woman judge who's an amateur detective ran until nearly 3 p.m. Excellent acting; I didn't need the language to get the story. The detective judge was played with both heart and humour by an actress who reminded me of Cathy Bates. Her mother was also delightful, a Claire Bloom type, faded elegance in traditional dress. In fact, older women sometimes wear kimonos in real life; I met two on my earlier walk. They were just out shopping, not going anywhere special.

It's drizzling quite steadily now; sitting under a hackmatack (larch) I'm getting only a few drops. There are oleander trees and yucca plants nearby, too.

(16:35) Went up the 108-plus stairs and walked around the temple, Otoshima Shrine. It's much more somber than a Corean temple, being of unpainted age-darkened wood and simple grey granite. Whilst I was there, 2 high school girls came up, dropped coins in the collection box, and giggling, rang the huge bell and clapped their hands twice.

On the south side, there is a ceremonial walkway flanked with red-painted logs standing vertically and a torii gate at the beginning with letters incised in the logs and painted black. To the left of the temple is a yard covered in sand and granite slabs, surrounded with cedar trees. Along a granite wall, wooden signs had many narrow wooden panels with names on them.

Walking along the edge near the parapet, I distinctly smelled bergamot. When I peered over the edge, there were lots of goldenrod and what appeared to be flowering bergamot, pretty much near the end of its yearly cycle but still blooming a little. The leave were dark green and looked substantial enough to survive all winter in this mild, marine climate. Shimonoseki is well over 20 degrees of latitude south of Cork, Ireland, the last place I saw this kind of fan-leaved palm trees.

After leaving the temple, I followed a walkway that turned into stairs periodically, with a motorscooter ramp alongside. These stairs were faced with ruddy pottery tiles, though the sluiceway on the other side of the brass handrail was faced with granite slabs. The surface of the walkway was finely-crushed rose granite set in asphalt.

I passed row on row of small houses set cheek by jowl, many with a common wall like rowhouses in Ireland. The path followed a traditional trail. The "town road" quality of it was emphasized by an occasional trio of granite tiles outlined in brass. Other paths wandered off, but they were simple tar or concrete, clearly private (no throughway).

Eventually, I came out about a block south-east of the park and came along it till I got to this electronics department store, Deodeo, which has indoor benches. Deodeo is pronounced "Day-o-day-o" in their theme song, which plays every now and then. It's very close to the escalator to the elevated walkways, which are about ten meters or thirty feet above ground level, and painted in pink and blue pastels. From here, I can get back to the ferry terminal in less that ten minutes. The boat loads at six o'clock.

A plastic "cup" that looked like a doorknob flew off the emergency exit and danced under my bench, cosiderably shocking the two ladies who had tried to go out that way. We all got quite a chuckle, and it went back in place with just a push and a twist, so no harm done. I had several chances to hear them say "Day-o-day-o."

The phone numbers in my paper journal refer to a young lady, Hiroko, who was with her mother, Toshiko. She wanted to speak English with me and does a creditable job. Next time I come to Shimonoseki, she hopes I'll call either her or her sister Set'suko (that "u" is a "schwa"). They are Jehovah's Witnesses, and she gave me "a present," a Watchtower. [I refrain from saying "Ugh," you notice. I think they are deluded, but that's none of my concern.] They were very polite and not pushy, so I see no reason to be hard on 'em.

(17:15) I'm back in the ferry terminal. It's packed! Before I went on my afternoon stroll, I put my backpack in line to hold my place and I'm glad I did!

I just had a pleasant chat with a lady from Fukuoka who's going to Seoul with her retired husband. She is studying English. Last year, she went to S. F., L. A., Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon.

I'm amazed at the number of people I have met who have been to the States. I can understand Japanese; they don't need a visa. But the number of Koreans is astounding!

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There's more to come...

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Hope you enjoy my prattling.

Happy Trails!

~ Sil in Corea

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