I started the day with a tram-ride in search of breakfast, and found an empty but very trendy coffeeshop above a combini, which did the usual toast-and-boiled-egg deal. I also ordered a pastry (a cross between a cheesecake and a lemon meringue pie) which came with a tiny ball of beautiful, refreshing peach sorbet. While I was sampling these delights (and listening, rather incongruously, to a song about Nelson Mandela on the coffeeshop’s stereo), I looked up the train schedule for my next move and decided to head over to Takamatsu early, to make the most of my time there.
As it happened, I only just caught my train (I had been waiting on the wrong part of the platform, watching a train emblazoned with Doraemon characters pulling in – after the cleaners had been through once, they strode back along the train, swivelling all the seats around to face forward when it set off again!), but once aboard I found my seat without further incident (I had reserved a seat, which put me in the equivalent of the first class compartment, but the rest of the train was in fact fairly empty) and was soon watching the countryside whizz by. There were some lovely views of the Inland Sea, but I fell asleep quite quickly, only to be roused by my stomach growling. Luckily, I had had the foresight to buy lunch at the station, so I was soon munching on ham sandwiches and some interesting mozzarella-and-tomato flavoured stick things while my fellow passengers tucked into seriously elaborate packed lunches.
At Takamatsu station (a very large building, surrounded by ranks of bus stops), I consulted a very helpful lady at the Tourist Information office on how to get to my hotel. It only took me three tries to find it, and upon arrival I was reunited with the bags I had sent on via takkyubin (after two days with just a messenger bag, I was very glad to have access to the rest of my clothes!) and immediately abandoned them in my room to go off exploring.
The main draw in Takamatsu is the spectacular Ritsurin-koen, a traditional strolling garden on an enormous scale. A short (English-signposted) walk from its own train station, it has an enormous entrance which is hard to miss. I was soon wandering in the shade of beautiful pine trees, admiring the painstakingly-created views. I had been issued with a leaflet which featured a map of recommended walking routes, but after a few hundred metres I decided I preferred to wander aimlessly. There were several families of tourists plodding about, plugged into their audio guides, but they didn’t seem to be having as relaxing a stroll as me.
Near the entrance of the garden is a rather unprepossessing folkcraft museum, which I was glad I stopped to explore – there were all kinds of amazing things on display, including some enormous ornate roof tiles, colourful kites, spiral straw cushions (made by the same family for 54 generations, if I remember the plaque correctly), decorative pottery and delicate furniture.
Ogres were a popular subject for roof tiles and decorations, as they were held to scare away evil. The ogre above’s head was bigger than mine!
I really enjoyed strolling through the garden, snapping away like crazy (even when impeded by an ice cream cone). The artificial lakes and islands were beautiful, especially with all the fresh spring green, and every manmade hill had been raised to provide a different panorama. I even spotted some herons (or possibly cranes… I’m not great at identifying birds) and what I’m 90% sure were cormorants, fishing in the lakes, probably to the irritation of the very large ornamental carp and tiny turtles swimming around in lazy circles.
Bridges and teahouses (some with their own tiny gardens) are sprinkled picturesquely throughout, and it was clear that Ritsurin-koen was designed to be a private, serene little world apart from the bustle of the town. There was even an artificial waterfall, which used to be powered by servants trekking up to the top of a very steep hill with buckets (not a job I would want!) to provide a scenic view from one of the teahouses.
This was another garden that made use of borrowed scenery, the surrounding city skilfully screened to give the impression that the nearby hills swept down into the garden. Someone had worked very hard to create the sense of being in a beautiful, natural wilderness in the middle of nowhere (with convenient teahouses, of course), so the local daimyo and his family could escape the city without the hassle of actually leaving it. Before they started letting visitors in, it must have been almost eerily peaceful.
When I’d completed my rather looping route through the garden, I found I was getting peckish, so set off in search of what is apparently the food of Takamatsu – udon. Luckily, there is a convenient little shop right near Ritsurin-koen’s entrance. I ordered a bowl of udon from a picture menu, then spent the short wait admiring the decor – lots of tiny wooden statues of kappa, penguins and snakes.
My udon arrived topped with a square of omelette, spring onions, seaweed and some floating bubbles of flash-fried tempura batter. Very tasty! The noodles were indeed excellent, chewy without being rubbery and flavoured with a nicely-balanced broth. I impressed the couple who run the shop by understanding total, and the lady folded me a tiny paper crane as a souvenir.
I picked up dessert at a stall in the station near my hotel – a pair of tiny, deliciously delicate soy doughnuts. A fittingly tasty end to the day.
Ritsurin-koen:
Tinpot travelogue 