It’s the season!

The weather is hot hot hot. I’m not kidding when I say it’s hot. It’s hot even when it rained buckets this afternoon, displacing all the hot air onto me (after all, this is a blog about me), engulfing me in a stream of sauna hotness. My English teacher (who taught me a lot) would have shuddered with the repeated use of the word ‘hot’. And the whining.

But the heat and sudden rain has prompted a wonderful blooming season. These are days for cyclinng outdoors, to get sun-burned, be invigorated by fresh air, be surprised by nature, be enticed by its beasts and floras…

Love these yellow saraca! I saw some budding ones a week ago near my home. Today we cycled along Ulu Pandan park connector and all these beauties were blooming! Yay! Plenty of egrets and kingfishers along the waterways too. Alas, birds don’t pose for phone cameras.

        

Later in the afternoon, in an art class, the lady next to me was painting these yellow saraca! Talk about coincidence. We both marvelled at our find.

       

Sundays are made of these meandering explorations. Yes it’s swelteringly – there comes the word a again – hot. But since you are already out and about, almost sun-burnt, you might as well just continue and keep on exploring.

Till next weekend!

Fruit of hundred fragrances

Lunar new year was spent at my parents’ home. This is the passion fruit vine, one of the products of my father’s guerilla gardening. The passiflora edulis – its botanical name – is native to Brazil and Paraguay – many plants that grow here have travelled far! It is said that Catholic missionaries in South America gave the fruit its name because they thought the flowers of the plant looked like the crown of thorns that was placed on Christ’s head.

In Chinese, the passion fruit is sometimes transcribed as ‘百香果‘ which literally means fruit of hundred fragrances. 

               

Lupines in Iceland

June 2014

As the plane descended into Keflavik, massive fields of lupine spread out as far as the eye could see. In the days to come, these lush purple dominated the greener landscapes of Iceland that we saw.

Originally from Alaska, the lupines were introduced to Iceland in the 1940s. They grew like wildfire and are now considered to be an invasive species in Iceland.

Raw beauty

14 June 2014. Krafla area, Mývatn region, north Iceland.

The many faces of Iceland are beguiling. At times dramatic and imposing. At times stark and desolate. At times placid and beautiful. At times wild and grotesque. The land of fire and ice is a place of contradictions. Life goes on in such inhospitable conditions.

What started out as a pee stop, turned out to be a 3 hour detour on foot around this stunning area of Leirhnjúkur, part of the Krafla caldera.

In Leirhnjúkur lava field, I lost my sole.

After seeing the world for 5 years together, my boots fell apart here in Iceland.

Still, that didn’t deter a walk up to Viti crater.

This is one of the views from Viti crater.

From Myvatn, we drove east to Egilsstaðir. As if the feast on landscapes for the day is not enough, every turn of the way brought us through steep passes and more stunning scenery. Then we just had to stop here.

We got to Egilsstaðir, and saw a vertical rainbow; peter tells me it’s a sun dog. In June here in Iceland, it’s 23 hours of day light, magnificent sights and raw beauty.

 

 

Wall of fragrance

Took a walk along the River Thames in the morning. Suddenly we were drawn to the sweet scent of jasmine. What a pleasant surprise. Not far from this spot was a bed of roses, also blooming and fragrant. I’m enjoying these delights of summer.

And I want a wall like this!

Dry Spell

Wilted grass lay brittle,

the earth cracks in frustration,

longing for moist.

Parched, the thirst remains un-quenched.

The undercurrent of hot blood,

surges to the brink of relentlessness,

alas, it is bridled.

How do you unravel a dry spell?

Say “abracadabra”,

with a deadpan.

Bougainvillea (bunga kertas)

As you may know, I occasionally write about flowers. Of all the flowers, the bougainvillea feels the most familiar. Almost like an old friend, in spite of its thorns. Where I grew up, there were bougainvillea shrubs out in the garden and beyond, popular in the neighbourhood perhaps because they grow easily in warm climate. To the extent you’d have to be mean and trim them often. The flowers – which are not true flowers but more like bract structures – are not particularly ornate but they were around, like a constant companion. It is the type of plant that does not bloom shyly, but shocks in flames of fuschia and magenta – at least those are the colours common to the bougainvillea glabra variety here.

Bougainvillea in my parents’ garden. February 2013.

Its botanical name was given by French botanist Phillibert Commerson, who is said to have observed and described the flower during the circumnavigation with voyager Louis Antoine Bougainville. Although some have said the flower was actually first spotted and recorded by Commerson’s girlfriend Jeanne Baret: Baret had disguised herself as a man to join in the expedition as Commerson’s botanist assistant, ship surgeon and became the first woman (though under disguise) known to circumnavigate the world. What an interesting story. Perhaps “jeanne baret” would have been a flower name with a more glamourous sheen. (Another plant was named after Baret though it has since shed its name.)

Near Braddell Road, Singapore. July 2012.

Did you know that Ipoh – a city 200km north of Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia – is known as “Bougainvillea City“? I didn’t know that until I started writing this post. Why is it the official flower of Ipoh? Due to its abundance, perhaps. But the bougainvillea is found in many parts of Malaysia, and is hardly unique to Ipoh.

It is interesting that a flower that isn’t native to a place can take on such a hold in in its adopted place. The bougainvillea is said to be native to South America (Brazil, Peru, Argentina). Plants, like humans, have travelled far and wide, cross-bred and made a new home in a foreign land.

Fuschia-flamed bougainvillea bush. In the background, Sulamani Pahto, in Bagan, Myanmar. March 2012.

Artistic rendition of the bougainvillea on a Malaysia stamp.

In the Malay language, the bougainvillea is known as bunga kertas, which literally means “paper flower”, as in how the flower is thin, like paper. In the Chinese language, it is colloquially known as 九重葛 which refers to “nine layers” – perhaps reflective of how the flower grows in bouquets and layers. How is it the same flower has such different names in different languages, and that’s excluding the confusing names that botanists use.

What do you call the bougainvillea in your language?

Abashiri-Lake Kussharo-Teshikaga-Mt Sulphur-Lake Akan-Daisetsuzan National Park

Went back to Abashiri to return the car that we had been using for the past 2-3 days. Picked up another car that would eventually be returned at Asahikawa.

It’s been raining since the car climbed into the mountains towards the viewing point of Lake Kussharo. Added to that, it’s misty. At the Bihoro Pass viewing point, we COULD NOT SEE A THING. I had a deja vu moment – it reminds me of a trip eons ago to Croatia’s Pletvice national park in the middle of a cold December. I still have a photo of the thick mist (rather than the supposedly very beautiful lakes) to remind me of that gaffe. That’s a story for another day.

Meanwhile, driving down those winding roads in the mist and rain was tricky. Thankfully nothing happened. As the car descended, the mist at lower heights cleared and we caught a glimpse of Lake Kussharo and the island Naka-jima in the middle.

Unfortunately, no such luck for Lake Mashu which is reportedly the most beautiful lake in Japan. Again, it was too misty to see anything. [Days later I met a girl who was there just a few days before us – apparently it was clear and bright with two rainbows when she visited. Ah! Even the most beautiful places in the world can only be admired when it’s visible.]

Passed by yet another lake. This one looks very popular with Japanese holiday makers. Tents are set up with grills – more yaki. There’s even a thermal spring right by the lake.

Continued on the road. Reached Mount Sulphur – that’s my literal translation of its name. You can’t miss it even if you can’t smell the sulphur from a kilometre away: it’s a gaseous balding mountain with streaks of bright yellow, standing out oddly from the surrounding lush undulating mountains.

The earth is restless.

Car buddy says he’s hungry. Turned into a standalone restaurant parked with a lot of cars in Teshikaga (弟子屈). Little did we know, we stumbled upon a famous ramen shop that’s named after the town. It was full house. Waited for a while for bar seats. A bowl of hot noodles topped with crab meat (800 yen) is the perfect comfort food on a rainy day.

Finally we reached Lake Akan. I wasn’t really expecting to see a Shangri-La perched on the lake shore. Yet as touristy as the little town feels, there were very few people walking on the streets. Perhaps because of the rain. I couldn’t camp here as much as I wished to – quite apart from the fact that my tent is a bit battered (more parts broke over the past couple of days although not major), it is not completely water-proof. Checked into an inn with tatami rooms.

There isn’t really much to do in this town. Went to the so-called Ainu village, which is mainly an array of shops selling souvenirs. At the lobby of the cultural theatre there are some displays of embroidery which were mildly interesting. There is very little information of the anthropology of the Ainu people here, at least not in a language I could understand.

Went back to the inn, washed up and had a very long dinner. It was simple home-cooked food but there is a lot of variety and the portions are big. They kept bringing in more dishes.

After dinner we went to check out a photography exhibition. The photos were taken by an amateur photographer who lives around Lake Akan. The subjects revolve around the animals, plants and scenery of Lake Akan. Some of the photos are really good, and it prompted me into thinking how art exhibitions should place more focus on integration with, and be reflective of, the local community and its native surroundings, in contrast to importing famous pieces for temporary exhibitions.

However on this trip to Lake Akan, we were to see NONE of the animals that this man photographed.  Not even a woodpecker.

You see, the rain continued the whole night. It was like a never ending affair. Although the skies cleared up a bit the next morning, it wasn’t the best of days. No sunny rays and cheery blue skies. Still, we had to take the obligatory cruise around the lake.

Saw some marimo – the cute moss balls that Lake Akan is famous for – in the visitor centre. Now instead of looking at it in an aquarium, wouldn’t it be cool if visitors could snorkel in the lake?

That’s all Lake Akan was for me.

Sitting ducks. At Lake Akan.

I learned from car buddy about a movie that was filmed in Lake Akan. Maybe I will watch that film. Kind of like watching Master & Commander after a trip to the Galapagos perhaps?

Drove towards Daisetsuzan National Park via a small road and through this wonderful tree-lined stretch. I am still trying to recall the route number because this single lane road is an interesting departure from the usual national highways. Came upon this road courtesy of car buddy’s direction.

As we approach Daisetsuzan National Park, the skies are still overcast. Nonetheless there are beautiful stretches.

I’m bombarding readers with more photos of forests – can’t get enough of these sub-alpine forests.

Here’s Mikuni Pass.

Took a 2000 yen gamble on a gondola then a ski lift… just to be thoroughly drenched in the rain. Zero luck in even catching a glimpse of Mount Asahi, the tallest peak of Hokkaido. We kidded ourselves that the misty rainy weather is just another side of the many beautiful rugged faces of Hokkaido.

Mostly empty chairs amidst the rain and mist.

Left the mountainous national park and drove into Asahikawa in the late afternoon. And for the first time today, the sun broke triumphantly through the pregnant clouds!

The sight was resplendent. What a fitting end to a road trip.

Guess what the arrows are for? On route 39 in the direction of Asahikawa.

Returned the car in Asahikawa. I hopped on to the train to Sapporo, drinking in the glorious sunset and the low hanging clouds meeting the mountainous landscape, feeling a bit wistful that my very short holiday is coming to an end.

I finally understood all the fuss about Hokkaido. It’s official. I love Hokkaido.

Shiretoko National Park

Shiretoko National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage Site in the north-eastern part of Hokkaido. There’s really nothing much to do here except, oh, be surrounded by lush forests and overdosing on fresh air. Shiretoko’s most popular spot – 5 Lakes of Shiretoko (Shiretoko Goko) – is a wetland and a walk in the park, literally & figuratively. Car buddy was disappointed that there was no bear in sight; I was secretly relieved. I did hope to see a woodpecker or two but no such luck. The cloudy day blocked most of the views of the surrounding mountains.

Cicada. At Shiretoko Goko.

An interesting thing that I did manage to see was a notice about the Shiretoko 100m2 Movement: to prevent rampant development on former farming land, the Town of Shari began seeking donations across the country to preserve the land from industrialisation and restore the land to its original natural state, with the slogan “Help buy a dream in Shiretoko!” It was also the first national trust in Japan. What a charming effort.

Is there any part of your natural habitat which you would like to preserve for future generations?

Land that is part of the Shiretoko 100m2 project. At Shiretoko National Park.

Drove along the Shiretoko Pass to the eastern part of the peninsula.

Somewhere along the Pass there was an outdoor hot spring. Or two. One of which is known as 熊の湯 which just sounds like ‘bear soup’ to me. Or is it ‘soup for bears’? Spent a bit of time hanging out amongst lush foliage. The sound of the running stream blends in harmony with the forest.

The Rausu side of the peninsula sits by the coast and is inhabited by local fishermen. Had a chiraishi bowl (rice topped with fish sashimi,sweet shrimp and roe) for lunch.

Further up north along the eastern coast at Aidomari (湘泊) there is, yet another, outdoor hot spring, but it’s partially sheltered for privacy, It’s free and sits right next to the north Pacific Ocean. I am thoroughly enjoying this hot-spring-hacking business and couldn’t wait to get in. The water was very hot, but a lady helpfully told me about the tap with usual temperature water.

The onsen is situated right by the sea.

Here’s a tip, remember to bring a towel whenever you travel around Japan. You never know when you might find a chance to take a hot bath which can be sheer BLISS.

In the distance were supposed to be some islets (near the cluster of Kuril islands) which Japan is disputing with Russia. Low hanging clouds in the skies made it impossible to see. Passed by another outdoor hot spring in Seseki ( 瀬石溫泉), also by the coast. It looks unappealing.

Passed by a mini golf lawn that seems to be popular with senior citizens. There is a camp site nearby. And a show farm with some prized produce. I like nightshades and zucchinis.

Went to an onsen spa (500yen) in the evening, that’s just right next to the campsite. Yet another one with an outdoor onsen! It’s on top of a hill that looks out to the sea of Okhotsk. Glimmers of the setting sun fell through the trees. I soaked contentedly to the sounds of flying gulls.

View from the campsite at Utoro. The onsen is next to the campsite.

The next morning, I woke up in my little tent feeling refreshed. I was about to have my breakfast when this family joined me.

“Stop licking me, Ma. There’s a funny-lookin’ lady staring at us.”

These deers are actually very common around here. But it feels special to see them first thing in the morning.

The fact that I had a deer burger yesterday was not lost on me.

Sunrise over pines, Rishiri Island

6 August 2013

My alarm clock was set to 3.50am. I had hoped to catch sunrise in the land of the rising sun.

Alas, the sun came up slightly to the east of the sea horizon of which I had a view. All I got was sunrise over the pine forest.

But it felt really good to be the first one up while the rest of the campers snoozed. I took a short walk and then sat for about an hour enjoying the quiet serenity surrounded by the beautiful forest and basking in the golden hues.

At 7am, the melody of “Edelweiss” from The Sound of Music rang through the island. It seems so fitting.

Then the noisy ravens woke up and started squawking again. And then the energetic kids in the  tent next door too woke up…