Actress Seiko Ozone starring in horror movie Sadako 3D: 3 layers of unexpected Oxygen!

When I lived in Thailand and Malaysia I learned that the local people have a deep fascination for occult and ghost stories. I was told many of those stories and at a certain moment I decided to paint them. (right: Hantu Sungai, the spirit of the river).

I thought modern Japan would be different. But the curiosity for the paranormal seems to be present here too! I had no idea, until I met actress Seiko Ozone...

She started her career at the age of 15 with starring in theatre plays and musicals. Seiko is almost my age, but she looks way younger, skinny, very sweet, no make-up. She assured me that she does not use Botox! Her acting jobs on stage are mainly in the evening, so during the day she is free and she likes to help out at her mother’s hairdressing salon. That is how we met. 

The first time she showed me a magazine with her modelling on a yacht in Greece. She washed my hair and gave me a surprisingly strong head-and shoulder massage. The second time she surprised me even more by telling me about the horror movie Sadako 3D in which she plays a small role. The movie is a follow up of the “Ring” series based on books by Koji Suzuki. The Ring captivated audiences in Asia and resulted also in THE RING (2002), a production of US Dreamworks directed by Gore Verbinski (from Pirates of the Caribbean) and starring Naomi Watts.

This latest movie Sadako is based on Suzuki’s novel ‘S’. It is about a high school teacher Akane, who hears a rumour from her students that there is actual footage on the Internet of someones suicide. The footage is said to drive anyone who sees it to also commit suicide. The teacher does not believe it at first, but when one of her female students dies after viewing the footage, she and her boyfriend are fatefully drawn into the horror that has been created by the man who appears in the suicide footage: visual artist Kashiwada. This guy’s intention is to create chaos in the world by bringing back Sadako and the power of her curse. Sadako was a young and beautiful girl with long black hair who was killed by her own father because she had paranormal abilities. 

THE recipe for spooky 3D action, like suddenly protruding from a computer screen. There is a scene that is shot at the Big Camera Department store near Yurakucho station in Tokyo, where the main character collapses when Sadako’s arm comes out of the digital billboard. I went many times to this store, and even bought my camera there, but now I am a bit reluctant to go again. Anyway, teacher Akane has to fight the evil and has to save lives, but her own a suicide attempt in the past turns out to be quite significant.

My friend Seiko Ozone plays the role of the caretaker of artist’s studio where the suicide footage was made. Before I was going to see the movie, I decided to interview Seiko to improve my understanding of the plot. Especially the topic of children being driven to commit suicide bothered me. Suicide rates in Japan are one of the World's highest and there has been a rapid increase in suicides since the 1990s. Typically it’s mostly men who commit suicide. However, it is still the leading cause of death for women age 15–34 in Japan. I was shocked to learn that there is not an age limit for this movie. In fact, high school students are being encouraged to go see the movie by giving them a discount. They can see it for only 1000 yen, a discount of 700 yen.

 “How is it to play in a horror movie?”, I asked Seiko.

Her scenes were not scary, but rather mysterious, she said. She also didn’t find it scary to read the script or to see Sadako on the set. “Sadako is like a friend. Movie is work. Director/author Koji Suzuki and actress Satomi Ishihara who plays the teacher, were very friendly and it was a pleasure to work with them. It’s totally different from the final movie. And the scenes were shot in the afternoon”. 

That helps! Suppose you go home late at night after shooting a scene and there is a black-out in the subway! In Tokyo there are many girls with very long black hair! 

The character that Seiko plays is a mysterious older witch-like woman in black, who shows the apartment of the artist Kashiwada to the detectives. In previous plays she has also played weird people, for instance a female cult/sect leader. I found it hard believe that sweet Seiko could transform into someone like that!

“Do you like to play bad people?” I asked.

“Well, I like good people of course, but I like to play the bad guys because there is more character to it and thus way more interesting”.

“Do you think the movie has an effect on young people?”

“It is not a big problem, it’s just a movie and there is hardly any blood…. Friday the 13^th was much more scary” was her simple answer. 

To me, it is more the deeper meaning of the story that I am worried about. High school kids killing themselves because they watch footage of a suicide on the Internet! I was wondering how young kids react to this Sadako movie, so I went to see for myself at the cinema. I went there early to observe the crowd. To my relief, the children that bought tickets were not really young and there was a surprising amount of young couples. Maybe with a totally different objective in mind… During the movie my heart missed a couple of beats, but I heard no one scream and afterwards everyone seemed to come out happily laughing and chatting. After all, the heroes fought Sadako successfully, also managed to prevent a couple of suicides and fell in each other’s arms in the end.

Maybe it is not to be taken too seriously. Also on social media people make fun of it and manga artists use the Sadako character freely. I found quite a number of funny pictures like this one on the right.

And the promotion of the movie itself was hilarious, to be honest. Sadako appeared as a pitcher on a baseball field and for advertising purposes people were dressed up as PCs with arms sticking out. Promotional articles are also full of typical Japanese humour.

During the interview Seiko gave me a very nice present:  Koji Suzuki's crazy horror novel called "Drop". On a toilet roll!! She warned me not to use it as actual toilet paper! You can read it like a book, sheet by sheet. If you can read Japanese, that is. That the writing is in blue and not in red, was done on purpose: to make it not too scary when you are reading it on your own during a visit to the toilet! Especially if you know that in Japan traditionally ghosts hide in the loo. Isn't it fantastic?

At the end of the Sadako 3D movie, Seiko (as the caretaker) comes back one more time in a great scene. The movie seems to be finished, but surprise surprise... there is the witch in black again. She stands near the water well where Sadako was buried, saying mysteriously: "作り物のような" (“Tsukuri mono no youna”) which means: It is like a fake. 

But she looks in the camera as to say: … at least that is what YOU think… 

It definitely adds more suspense and holds a promise for a follow up of the movie.

Seiko’s first name means success. A good name for a movie star. Her last name, Ozone does not really mean anything in Japanese, but for me it does: Seiko Ozone is a lady with a few unexpected layers of fresh oxygen: like the O3 layer. Seiko’s dream for the future is to play a lead role in the next movie and to appear in a trailer. I wish her lots of luck and a bright acting career!

The wardrobe of Manneken Pis

It was a very hot and humid day in August when I first set foot on platform 3 of Hamamatsu-cho station in Tokyo. I was on a mission to find a nice apartment in the neighbourhood. When I got off the blue train, my eye fell on something quite familiar: Manneken Pis from Brussels, Belgium! Here in Tokyo? 

At first instant I thought: “oh those Japanese people, they do copy everything! From the Statue of Liberty to the Eiffel Tower and now Manneken Pis!” But somehow this little pissing guy made me pause. I actually had to smile because (although I am not from Belgium), this statue was the closest thing to home at that moment in this new and strange place.  He was dressed for the beach, lucky him. I took a picture and happily left the station.

We found an apartment and Hamamatsu-cho became ‘our’ station. A month later I was on the way home and sat in the first car of the train. Realising my error, I was annoyed, because the exit to the North side was at the back of the train. But then I saw Manneken Pis again. Pissing away lonely at the far end of the station. He made me smile once more, because this time he wore a new outfit. Apparently someone was dressing him up regularly. From the flag he was holding, I read that he was promoting an organisation called Marine Rescue Japan. It sparked my interest and I took another picture with the plan to find out more.

But I forgot.

Until a day in October I thought, hey, let’s see if Manneken Pis has changed clothes again. I was not planning on going anywhere by train, but just went up to the far end of the platform to find Manneken Pis indeed in a brand new outfit. 

Who on earth was taking care of this? And a quest was born. I searched the internet and found quite a number of references but mostly in Japanese and mostly with just pictures. 

A Japanese friend in Canada had sent me a link of a fire and rescue website where a group named Ajisai (Hydrangea) was said to be responsible for the monthly outfits. I went to the Minato ward office to find out where I could contact this group, but probably because of lack of Japanese, I did not get any further.

Months went by and this April I decided to give it another try. The Japanese lessons paid off because I was redirected to the Minato Volutunteer Centre. This centre houses all kind of volunteer groups, so at first I had no clue which floor I needed to be. The staff there understood my question and phoned the chairlady of the group, Goto-san. 
As it turned out: every 26^th of the month Shoben Kozo (little peeing boy) as Manneken Pis is fondly called here, gets a new outfit. Mrs Goto has said that I was welcome to join to witness the outfit change and ask questions. 

So with help of my Japanese teachers I set to work to prepare for interview. Not an easy task after only 9 months of Japanese. But I got more and more excited. On the 26th I went to the station early. I was hoping to be able to see my little man stark naked and indeed: he was! And not pissing. Waiting for a new costume. I had prepared part of a possible Dutch outfit for him and I couldn’t wait to give it to the ladies. I thought : “what the hell, this is probably the only chance to dress him myself”, so I did. Just in time to hide his private parts from these curious schoolgirls with this Dutch “rode zakdoek”.

Soon my teacher Genta-san and the ladies of the Ajisai group showed up. They immediately set to work with the new outfit. I asked the first question: “Could you please tell me something about the history of Shoben Kozo?” Luckily my Japanese teacher caught all the details and I managed to find newspaper articles to translate, so here is the story:

In 1952 dentist Hikaru Kobayashi donated the statue for the 80^th anniversary of the station. Rumour has it that the statue remained nude until a small boy gave him a hat, but that story could not be confirmed by the members of the Hydrangea group. A few years later a lady, Tanaka-san, gave him his first raincoat to protect him from the rain. And this is how it all started. Her handmade costumes became famous works. And she kept doing it until her death. In 30 years she made over 200 costumes.

The Ajisai sewing and knitting group took over in 1986, mainly at request of the Shiba Fire Department who wanted to promote fire prevention and life saving by giving Shoben Kozo a firemen uniform once in a while. In 2003 a representative went to Brussels to donate a Japanese Fireman costume to the ‘original’ Manneken Pis. If you ever go there, the costume number is 718 and at will be put on at request.

While the ladies were trying to squeeze the fabric through the small opening between the arms and were busy with their needle work to fix the pieces of the dress in place I continued with my interview. 

I told them that the statue in Brussels is also a copy. The real one is well protected in a museum due to the fact that it was stolen en (found back) a few times. I asked if maybe the dentist went to Belgium and stole the real one. 

It took a few seconds, I saw their shocked faces until I explained it was a joke, and then they couldn’t stop laughing of relief! How could I have been thinking such a thing: in Japan! But later they admitted that once when Shoben Kozo was dressed up as a soccer player for one of those World Cups, his football was stolen.

There is a two year plan for the costumes and no outfit is used twice. So in 26 years the managed to make 322 dresses.  One lady is specialist in shoes and she showed us how complicated that is. Shoes need to be ‘wrapped around’ the feet, and the same applies to the socks. It is quite ingenious how they can play with pieces of wood so that it looks as if he is wearing straw or wooden slippers.

Apart from two fire or rescue outfits per year, usually Shoben Kozo is dressed for seasons or festivals, like Christmas, New Year, Start of school, Rainy season, summer etc. Sometimes they dress him for special occasions like big sport events. This month he is ready for the Healthy Boy Kintaro Festival, complete with Koinobori flags. When Shoben Kozo was dressed, and I had asked all my questions, we took pictures with the statue. I thanked them and gave them some presents. We were about to leave, but luckily one of the ladies realised that Shoben Kozo still was not peeing!  All this time not being able to relief himself… poor boy!

After we all separated I realised I forgot to hand the ladies the Dutch “rode zakdoek” so I went after them. We met again at the volunteer centre and they asked me if I wanted to see his wardrobe. That was the icing on the cake! Box after box was taken from the shelves and the dresses were proudly displayed on the table.  

Amazing all those little costumes!  We had green tea together and the women kept chatting to me. Although I was only able to catch 20 %, I felt that this was quite a unique thing, being probably the first foreigner to see the hidden wardrobe of Shoben Kozo. 

This is a series of beautiful pictures of previous costumes http://www.flickr.com/photos/ballet_lausanne/sets/72157600163980839/show/

I honestly think this collection has museum potential. And I do hope people recognise the value of this, so that it will be protected and can be enjoyed by more than just one crazy Dutch woman.

Resilience

I have to share this picture with you all. Fuji-san. I took it early this morning with my new camera. The view from our apartment. I could sit here all day and watch it. But alas, after a few hours the sky became more hazy and it's gone now. But I can still see the image when I close my eyes. A poem is slowly brewing. About the earth's power and nature's resilience.

Talking about resilience, this season is so beautiful right now in Tokyo, you might forget that it's only a year and a month after the big earthquake and tsunami struck. Beautiful Cherry Blossoms galore. Yesterday however, it was a rainy day. I decided to work on a painting I did in the weeks after the tsunami. It resembles a tsunami swept landscape. At that time we were waiting for news on our upcoming move to Japan. The move was postponed until August. But the painting was too painful and needed some hope.

After I viewed, photographed, sketched and painted the sakura outdoors last week, it was time to retreat to the studio and rework my initial painting. The darkness is not totally over yet, but the lonely sakura tree stands for new life; hope, if you like. So there it is. It is called: "Resilience". May it give hope to those who are still struggling with the aftermath of this disaster.

Resilience, 120 x 50 cm, acrylic on canvas, 2012 (click for bigger image)

Flower Power

For two weeks we were very lucky to be in the Netherlands when most of the bulb flower fields were in full bloom. Often you take the country that you are born in for granted. Only when you go there as a tourist you see how beautiful it really is. Lisse and the Bollenstreek are world famous and every spring many foreigners come to marvel about the magnificent carpets of flowers. This time we could understand the outcries of the Japanese tourists: "Kirei desu ne!" (Beautiful isn't it?)

Now back in Tokyo we are in the middle of the Sakura or Cherry Blossom season. And the whole nation and tourists are going crazy about it. There are even daily Sakura forecasts on national TV. With pink flowers as dots on the map of Japan they show the best place to go watch and when. And now we are the ones saying in turn to the Japanese: "Kirei desu ne!" And kirei (pretty) it is indeed! Time to analyse this flower power.

The tradition of Hanami, or sakura flower watching, goes back a long way. In Edo times it must have looked something like this painting of Hiroshige on the left (courtesy of this nice article about Sakura on Wikipedia).

The beauty, fragility and short lifespan of the cherry blossom carries a lot of symbolism and you have to enjoy it because it's (and our!) time is short. That is exactly my life philosophy: enjoy the small things in life: a ray of sunlight, a snowflake, a flower. That will give you happiness in the moment. Nothing else is important than this exact moment and if we die after this, it's o.k.


It may seem very fatalistic. I have seen this also in the other Asian countries that we lived in. But Japan is different. It is best explained by the resilience of the flower itself. Last week, while the flower buds were already on the trees, we had a massive storm. But the flowers are strong and held on. They may die soon, but next year they will start to grow again, on such old barks that you wonder if that tree is still alive.

Then there is that sudden explosion of energy, even after a cold winter, out of nothing. So Sakura also represents strength and the power to rise after cold and dark times. The analogy with the March 11 earthquake and Tsunami is quickly made.

The ultimate joy of admiring the Sakura in the old days was to have lunch under the tree and drink sake. That part has not changed much. But nowadays it looks slightly different. With the masses that inhabit Tokyo and of course the commerce, there does not seem to be a quiet place under a tree anymore. But that is not entirely true. 


There are beautiful trees in abundance in quiet backstreets where nobody seems to bother to have a look at them. 

But I understand: it is more fun to celebrate the the flowers' frail short life and our own temporary existence by getting roaring drunk together with as many people as possible on copious amounts of saké and other alcoholic beverages. And it's good for the economy. Hawkers sell unbelievable amounts of food and do very well during this period.

When you walk through the parks of Ueno or Jojogi, you hear laughter of young and old and everybody has a fantastic time together.

It is in fact not much different from our own "Elfstedentocht skating fever" in the Netherlands. The only difference is that it's in winter in stead of spring. As soon as it starts freezing, our nation gets totally crazy too and we dress up in orange. Pink or Orange, what does it matter, as long as we have fun.

We Dutch know all too well that drinking outside does have its disadvantages of course, but I could not believe how long this cue for the toilets was in Jojogi Park yesterday.

But this downside of the massive gathering is usually not shown on the Sakura forecast on TV and definitely not in Tourist brochures.


And neither is this:

But trust me, when the crowds are gone, the parks are all "Kirei" (clean and pretty) again;

This is Japan.

And today I am going to find myself a nice Sakura tree in a quiet forgotten shrine and 

just sit there and paint.

The weird and wonderful life in Tokyo

Today is the anniversary of the earthquake and tsunami that destroyed many communities in Japan. I find anniversary a strange word, it sounds too festive for what has happened and is still happening with for instance the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power plant. For many years to come the aftermath of this disaster will hunt the people. But overall, the Japanese people are very resilient and try the best they can to get on with their lives and improve the world around them. We have been in Tokyo for a while now and I am slowly getting used to this wonderful and weird world. Of course I look at it from a foreign point of view. I once wrote a poem about that. It is called "A journey". This is the first verse:

It’s my eyes
that see your land
My vision is as coloured
as the brush in my hand ...

I am truly amazed what I see here almost every day. And, like many other foreign bloggers in Japan, I like to share it.

The first thing you notice is that Japanese people love everything cute and colourful. The designs of simple common tools and utensils are fantastic. I regret to say it, but my faithful old grey Stanley knife had to make way for one of those.

Cute is 'Kawaii' in Japanese and it's everywhere. A serious company can have a kawaii logo of a little boy in diapers or a panda bear or something. Take this one for example, it is hard to believe it is the Metropolitan Police logo you are looking at. 

The highlight of kawaii and colourful you will find mostly in the weekend and in the evenings in the areas of Harajuku and Odaiba, where all weird and wonderful seems to gather. The contrast between daytime school- and work attire and evening- and weekend attire can not be greater.  And what they do to their dogs...

Cute often comes with small and tiny. In some ways this is really good. Japanese are masters in saving space. The land on which you can build is scarce here, so naturally most houses are small and their cars are small too. 

And as far as food is concerned, have you ever seen such a small hot dog? Great for the body!


What is not so great for the body is this: 


I know, I know, it is absolutely true: my Japanese is worse than the English of the Japanese people, but it's sometimes very funny. And I can't help to notice some weird combinations of English. 


The following is my favourite so far. From a letter of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Bureau of Waterworks concerning the replacement of our water meter:

 

 
And aren't we lucky with the local opening times? 
Especially on Sundays and holidays (open from 10:00 to 29:00) I can recommend going to this place in Ginza (they sell great coffee beans). Shop till you drop!

I am still amazed how different the Japanese people behave while they are amongst friends and partying, compared to when they are at work. For sure they can party! And they love to play roles and dress accordingly. The sixties revive every Sunday at Jojogi Park! Same rockers, same time, same place, for as long as people remember, I have heard.

And then the face masks. Look at this family in the distance. I don't think I will ever get used to it. But I guess there are just too many people in Tokyo spreading germs. Better be safe than sorry!

And if the following pictures don't give a smile on your face, you may shoot me!

 It's a weird and wonderful world and I am grateful and glad that I have been given the opportunity to experience it all!

How heroes deal with Fukushima

It’s almost a year since the devastating earthquake and tsunami ripped a piece out of the hearts of the Japanese. When we arrived in Japan half a year ago, the Fukushima Daiichi plant was said to be stable on the path to a cold shut down and repairs to land, roads, buildings and houses in the areas affected by the tsunami were well under way. Still, there is an inhabitable zone for many years to come and the nuclear power plant is far from switching off completely. Many people continue to live in shelters, and a lot of people suffer in silence from the loss of their loved ones and fear of radiation.

I am only beginning to understand what is going on and how people deal with their fears. I try to learn the language to be able to talk to people in real life or on social media. Most of their stories do not reach the mass media on a large scale, and I have been wondering why.

I met a gallery holder the other day when I was searching for a possible exhibition space. He asked me when I had arrived in Japan. This is almost the first question people ask me and I think they mean: are you from before or after March 2011? And usually when I tell them that I arrived in August of that year, the standard response is: “I am really happy that you decided to come, more foreigners should do the same. It will be good for Japan”. This gallery owner seemed glad that I picked up on the subject and started to show me pieces of art made by artists that reflected on the earthquake and tsunami. What struck me most was that he saw no possibilities to show this right now in his gallery, as most people did not want to be reminded. All they want is to see happy paintings. Good artists are heroes and they are hardly ever recognised as such in their own time.

Then there is a blogger ‘Angama’ that I follow. He seems to be on the exact opposite of many Japanese. He does not suffer quietly and wants to express his feelings and shout about all of it. And so he does. He is a hero to many young Japanese and foreigners alike, who are unhappy with the authorities. He left the country and blogs about the government and the nuclear power company and how they withhold crucial information about the situation in Fukushima. He posts videos and you don’t have to be a trained psychologist to see that he is frustrated and scared. Very understandable and I can see why his blogs seem to be so negative. He complains that support for his work declines. So the only thing he can do is to make more noise.

In the forbidden zone, there is a heroic monk that gets attention in a different way. He decided to stay put and takes care of the abandoned animals. There are brave journalists that visit him and send the heartbreaking pictures to the rest of the world.

I was told a story about a woman who was so scared for radiation effects that she started to make food for her son herself, instead of letting him eat the food provided by the school. That way she felt, she was in control. The child also had to wear a special face mask, but he was the only one and other kids bullied him for it. When reactions go off balance, people don’t really understand and stigmatism happens. The lady decided to quit her job and leave her husband for the time being. She left Tokyo and now lives somewhere in the South. However, her fear is not over. Now she worries about her mother and husband who are still in Tokyo. They get frequent messages from her to take extra precautions and she warns them not to go outside on certain days because there will be a wind blowing from Fukushima to Tokyo carrying radioactive cesium. She follows the news and twitters about it daily. It’s her new task in life. One day I hope, she will be a hero to her son, but for now her real life is gone.

Regularly I read about people that gather in Tokyo to protest against nuclear power. They want a Japan without it and they want the government to find alternatives. Some demonstrations are fairly big and others smaller. The other day I passed such a demonstration. It was a group of approximately thirty people, and I spotted an old man standing with a sign. Most of the things that were going on were lost on me because of the language. Reading is much easier for me, mainly because I have time to translate it, or ask for help from my teachers or other English speaking Japanese friends. Anyway, the sign that the man was carrying was clear though: “No nuke – save our children”. If he was just tired or ready to give up, I don’t know, but suddenly the man put his sign upside down on the ground and set himself on a crate. I read his face and if I am not mistaken he was asking himself: “why are we doing this? It doesn’t make a difference”. 

It may not. These protests are so small and do not reach the world, not even the Japanese news I think. It is in the Japanese nature to resolve problems quietly and without much uproar. No blood involved in protests, no burned cars on the street, no damage to government buildings. So, naturally, it has no news value. It is actually quite sad.

Not everyone is worried though. There are people who support the farmers of Fukushima by buying produce from Fukushima prefecture. The prefecture is 1/3 of the size of the Netherlands and that’s a lot of farmland. Supporters say that not all of it is contaminated and they feel that especially in this time the farmers need their support. They call it Kizuna, the bond between the people that is vital for survival in difficult times. They are heroes.

And what about me? Why am I not worried? I am not trying to be a hero. I just practise common sense. When I was a young girl, I swam in a canal that ran along a landfill. In winter, the ice around the dumpsite would not freeze over. It was around 1970 and nobody knew what chemicals were dumped there. The buildings on my fathers’ farm were built with asbestos. He used to saw it to measure, while me and my brother watched and made huts with the leftover pieces. No one had a clue that it was dangerous. The path to our home was made of waste material from the Hoogovens steel plant. We called it ‘sintels’ and it was a cheap and strong way of making a dirt road suitable for heavy trucks and cars. It was mixed with bitumen and in summer it would melt in places and it was fun to play with a stick in the bubbles that formed. At the beach tar would wash up all the time and I loved molding it into little black figures. 

All in all I had a great and happy childhood, but maybe not exactly without health risks, but there was not much knowledge about these things at the time. So, now I am just realistic and am not worried about what other risks I take by living in Japan. I just see it as a valuable opportunity to learn about the many different people that inhabit our world.

The artists, the blogger and the other protesters, the monk, the worried mom, the people who support the Fukushima farmers: everyone is a hero in his or her own way. Like the artist who chooses his viewpoint to construct his image; it just depends on your perspective of life.

Excuse us for the weather! Trip to Lake Ashi, Hakone

Boiling stuff, watercolour, 32 x 41 cm, 2008

Last weekend, at the official start of the Dragon Year, Hans took the Friday off. A good thing to do in Japan, because then you get the chance of actually getting somewhere before the crowd arrives. The goal of the trip was the scenic crater lake Ashi-no-ko, that was formed as a result of explosive eruptions of the Hakone volcano. The area still has volcanic activity and I love that. In the past I made several paintings inspired by earth's power. So, we booked a hotel at the rim of the lake, trusting that the newborn dragon was going to keep quiet and hoping that the last eruption of 3000 years ago was not going to become the second last, this particular weekend.

When we woke up early Friday morning, the sky was dark grey and it was pouring rain, but we set out to adventure in good spirits. Our Odakyu Super Express RomanceCar train was waiting for us at Shinjuku station. We had seats on the second row in the first car with a huge window in front and we could see and hear the train driver perform his robot-like routine. For people who have never been to Japan, I must explain this a bit. Their safety routine is accompanied with all kind of hand movements and words to make sure they check every little thing. I bet it is recorded as well. It was so hilarious to watch the handling of the driver and we could hear him utter sounds that must have meant: "left-check, right-check, up-check, down-check, green light-check, go!", all the way to Hakone, a trip of 1 1/2 hour!

Comfort in those trains are almost like business class air plane seats! And even better: passengers politely ask each other if it is all right to recline the back of their seats! When the ladies in front of us asked us this, Hans joked with them that it would be O.K. for 100 Yen. Instead, they offered us cake! The politeness of Japanese people knows no boundaries as we found out at the Information Centre in Hakone-Yumoto. Rain had turned into wet snow, and as soon as we entered the small office, the ladies immediately made excuses for the bad weather!

Despite the snow, we wanted to do the 4 - 5 hour hike to Moto-Hakone on Lake Ashi. According to the ladies of the Information Centre that would be a very unwise thing to do, because there was heavy snowfall in the mountains leading up to the Hakone crater. There were reports of sliding accidents with cars on the road and buss transport was suspended. The ladies kept making excuses for this all, and for the weather in particular. They were not sure if we were able to reach our hotel at Hakone-En today. "We are so sorry!"

Now we know that most of the Japanese travel in big groups and do not easily venture out on a hike with just two people. Also, we know from experience that we can do hiking trails measured to take 5 hours, in 4 hrs at the maximum. But the ladies were not only over polite, they were also very persuasive not to take the risk. So reluctantly we gave up the hiking part of the plan. In stead we decided to take the zigzagging Hakone-Tozan railway up to the North side of the Caldera.

This train trip was magnificent. It runs along a ravine to the village of Gora. Because the route is so steep, the train has to make several switchbacks to be able to climb up. It was still early and the train was practically empty except for two lovely girls. They recognised our Dutch accent and started a conversation. Turns out: one of them, Hiroyo Yamamoto (right), has a Dutch boyfriend and just came back from the Netherlands! She wanted me to translate some Dutch on a card that she received and was so happy that it read: A kiss, for you! Isn't that sweet?

We got out at Miyanoshita village, where interesting antique and craft shops were dotted along the main road leading up to the old Fujiya Hotel where we had a coffee for 12 Euro! The hotel is a beautiful place full of history, founded around 1873 and worth to visit and wander around.

Our next stop on the train was the Hakone Open Air Museum. By far the best museum of modern visual art in a gorgeous mountain setting. With sculptures of Henry Moore and Rodin and a whole pavilion with work from Picasso. In the snow the sculptures looked even more magical!

At the final stop of the train we heard that both the funicular tram as well as the cable car train from Sounzan to Togendai on the north side of Lake Ashi were not running. So from this side of the crater transport to the hotel also was impossible. We phoned the hotel to cancel our reservation, but they said that if we could go all the way back to Odawara, they would be able to pick us up by Shuttle bus. The last shuttle would go at 4 pm. The receptionist was going to make a reservation for us on the shuttle bus immediately. We had 1 1/2 hour! We barely made the Hakone Tozan train in Hakone-Yumoto and arrived just in time at Odawara station. We were dumbfounded by the impeccable Japanese efficiency once again, as the driver had our names ready on a printed list. There were many cars that had slipped and stranded on the roadside, but we reached the hotel at dusk without any problems. The hot water of the natural Onsen bath was very welcome!

The next day we were hoping to be able to see Mount Fuji, which is possible on good days, but the grey clouds were as dull as the day before. Also here, the receptionist said he was so sorry for the inconvenience. Snow changed back to rain again and still, no traffic around the lake. What else to do than to walk?
We donned our rain gear from the Seventies and hiked along the lake to Moto-Hakone.

Despite earlier information we saw some sightseeing boats on the lake, when we reached Moto-Hakone. So our plan to do a round trip suddenly became possible again. Apparently rain washed away most of the snow at the railway switches and therefore both the cable car and the funicular tram were back in operation again.

With our strange rain-outfits we figured we would not be allowed on board of one of the regular cruise ships, so we boarded this pirate ship to cross the lake. The mist made the area even more eerie than scenes from "Pirates of the Caribbean - At worlds' End". The lake's dragon kept quiet all this time, but we saw green smoke coming out of it's lair when we passed high over the Owakudani valley in the cable car.



I am sure if the Volcano Dragon would have roared a bit more, than just a plume of green smoke, the ladies at the Information Centre of Hakone-Yumoto would be the first to make a huge amount of polite excuses for it!