before I could say "Buon Giorno Italia!"...

I'd like to think my trip to Italy was relatively well-thought of. I spent a great deal of time planted in front of the computer mapping out my trip to the very last detail. I have every single transportation option from point A to point B memorized and i have the address, contacts and rates of a couple of cheap, decent, centrally-located hostels written down in my notebook, all ready for the moment I find myself stranded in some Italian corner.


My plan for the trip was simple. I had seven days and a whole lot of Italia to see. I was to arrive in Milan (courtesy of my dirt-cheap 60 euro round trip Ryan Air ticket) really early on my first day, see Milan for the whole day, take the train to Modena, meet my aunt and stay with her family for the night, go to Venice the next day, figure out where to spend the night, go to Firenze the next day, figure out what to do, go to Pisa the next day, once again, figure out what to do, go see the Tuscan country-side the day after that (I was thinking along the lines of the film setting of "Under the Tuscan Sun") figure out where to spend the night, then go to Rome, spend about two days there and fly back to Paris. Voila! Seven days! Oh, and I had only about 200 euros on me to do all these and I had no credit card. I have no idea what I was thinking then.


But I was 23 years old and I didn't give a damn. I was at that ridiculously optimistic stage in my life where I thought that if I could imagine it, how could it not happen?


So the day before my Italy trip I went and took the Metropolitain to Paris-Porte Maillot, where the buses going to Beauvais airport depart. I had a pre-dawn flight to Milan the next day and figuring where the hell in Porte-Maillot the bus terminal is in that ungodly hour does not fit into my beautiful plans. So I went around Porte-Maillot and found the terminal (which is nothing more than a parking lot on Boulevard Pershing). I read on the internet that i must take the bus that leaves 3 1/2 hours before my flight, so needless to say, I had to leave Ninon's apartment very VERY early.

From The Silken Backpack

The Porte Maillot Metropolitain Station


So the next day, remembering Ninon's instructions on how to get to the stop of the Night Bus going to Porte-Maillot (that was bus N151 and N153), I set off to the streets of Paris at 3 in the bloody morning (and this is not even the posh 24/7 safe side of Paris, this was in Anvers, right smack in between the sexodrome-lined streets of Pigalle and the immigrant-populated neighborhoods of Barbes, right under the nose of the colorful hill of Montmarte). I can't remember walking more briskly in my life. I put my game-face on (which is basically my "I'm a murderous Asian girl, don't you dare mess with me" face) and headed off in the direction of Gare Saint-Lazare (which just sounded to me like Gare Salazar). Only problem was, the wheels of my luggage collided heavily with the rough cobble-stoned side walks of Paris and I left behind this KATAK-KATAK-KATAK sound in my wake that just reverberated off the centuries-old buildings that were clearly not built with the word "sound-proof" in mind. I was now afraid of having people heaving bulky items at me from their apartment windows for waking them from their sleep.


I finally got to Gare Saint-Lazare but soon as I saw the bus stops, I knew I was screwed. There were just too many bus stops and I was stumped. I knew exactly the bus number I had to be on but I had no idea which bus stop it passes by. I had less than 10 minutes before the bus I was supposed to take leaves and I walked frantically back and forth, checking the signs on each stop. I loudly cursed myself for being idiotic enough to not check this before hand. Why the hell did I take the Metropolitain the day before when I knew full well I was going to take the bus?! Suddenly I saw the bus I was supposed to take pass me. I whipped around and ran after the bus, willing it to pause by the next bus stops. But it didn't. It kept on going and going and poof! It was gone. Curses in about 5 different languages flew out of me before I calmed myself down to consider my options. The next bus was gonna come in about 20 minutes, but by then I would arrive in Porte-Maillot in less than the 3 1/2 hours required time pre-flight. I finally decided to just take a cab, figuring I would end up wasting more money if i miss the flight altogether than if i pay the exorbitant Parisian cab-fare.


So I hailed a cab, my first in Paris, and told the driver in my best imitation of a French accent "Pohr Mahlloh, seel vu pleh" Miraculously, the driver nodded and off we went. But of course, that was too easy! What the hell? So ever the ridiculous worrier, I decided not to take the chance of ending up in some street called "Pohlloloh" or some thing, I wrote my destination down and showed it to the driver. He nodded "Oui, oui!" and smiled. Hah! Stupid Tourist! Bleh!
I ended up paying 7 euros for the cab, when I could have just paid less than one for the bus, but it became worth it the moment we passed by Champs Elysees. I've never seen the avenue at dawn, when it was not quite so infested with gawking tourists and Parisians who hated the gawking tourists. The entire avenue was bright with the thousands of lights hanging off the countless trees lining the long street. The Arc de Triomphe looked magnificent and it just took my breath away. It was at this moment that I felt what it was like to be in Paris (since my EQ-deficient self has been missing it the past 3 weeks).


In no time at all, we arrived in Porte Maillot, I tore down the parking lot, hoping to catch the bus when I was met with a long line, apparently, the bus was going to be delayed for almost 40 minutes but it's no problem because the people at the airport knew and we would still be able to catch all our flights. I felt like a balloon being deflated. Damn it! I could have just taken the next bus from Gare du Nord! Now, I am officially down to 193 euros. Shiiittttt....


But no use crying over spilled latte, so I just stayed in line, shifted in the January cold, smoked more cigarettes than i dare count and finally got on the bus, handed over my 14 euros and settled in for my trip to Beauvais.

From The Silken Backpack

The Paris Beauvais Airport

I got to the airport in no time flat and I got myself buckled down onto my plane seat with no incident. I took a moment to remind myself of where I was, where I was going and all that implied. I was going to ITALY Baby!

P.S. Because I was going through this in a mad rush, I wasn't able to take proper photos. The photos in this entry all came from the net. Apologies... Forgiveness

Learning about the Atomic Bomb in Hiroshima

After waking up to a slightly chilly morning in the Hiroshima Youth Hostel, we all decided to go around the city, so we got ready and stepped out into the drizzling city. We walked to the corner convenie and bought some breakfast. After having some quick bites in front of the convenie, we went to the bus stop to catch one going to Hiroshima Bus Center. When we got there it was still raining like crazy and the skies were gray. We decided to walk towards the A-dome which was across the Peace Memorial Musuem.

The A-dome is the only distinguishable structure left after the bombing. We spent some moments there and took photos and reflected a bit on the effects of the atomic bomb on thousands of people. The area and the park was quite beautiful. The city is very clean and has a charming look about it.There was a river which conspicuously seems to me to be sea water of some sort coz it smelled that way. If it wasnt raining I’m sure we would have taken a leisurely walk along the park.

From The Silken Backpack

The A-Dome amidst purple flowers


After taking some photos of the A-dome, we passed by several memorials (statues and monuments) to children who died during the bombing. Among these memorials is the one for Sadako (Dont think Ringu) the girl who was exposed to radiation from the bomb when she was only 2 years old. She grew up to be a relatively healthy girl but when she was 10, she developed lumps around her neck and she was diagnosed with leukemia and given about 6 months to a years time to live. While in the hospital, she saw a girl folding paper cranes. Inspired by this, she decided to make 1000 paper cranes (In Japanese culture, if you fold a thousand paper cranes, you can make a wish and it will come true). Then, origami paper was quite expensive and so she would use anything she can fold to make the cranes. She died before she could finish the cranes, her friends and family finished the 1000 cranes and they were buried with Sadako.

From The Silken Backpack

One of the shrines, the A-dome by the river side, the Atomic Bomb Museum and the Flame Monument

In the monument for Sadako, (there she was on the top of the monument holding a huge metal origami crane over her head as if she’s going to set it off flying into the air ) are plastic cases similar to phone booths where thousands of paper cranes strung through cotton strings were hung on display. These cranes came from all over the world as a message of peace. It was truly poignant and makes you realize how much suffering opens the eyes and minds of people and how a period of dehumanization gives birth to an era where individuals are more aware of their humanity and the increase of the desire to preserve that humanity.

Sometimes it amazes me how people are just so touched by a child’s knowledge of peace and love. They always imagine that this shouldn't be so. A child should be innocent, unexposed to the ways of the world. I find this funny because peace and love are the most basic and elementary of human emotions. Why is it that a child can trust and love so easily? It's because the child has found no reason to do anything other than that. Thus a child will always find in herself the desire for peace and love. I find greater merit in someone who has seen the evils of the world and yet found the strength in herself to see the goodness and beauty around her and to still love. This is why Sadako is remembered so fondly, I think, because she has seen the horror of the aftermath of the bomb and still she’s able to imagine a world of peace and brotherhood.

From The Silken Backpack

Viviane and the monument for Sadako

After the monuments, we decided to go see the Hiroshima Peace Museum. I got in for free coz Im a foreign student. hehehe. Here we found out why the US decided to use the bomb against Japan instead of Germany (Japan was thinking of surrendering, but not to the US, they were thinking of doing it through Russia. Using the bomb on Japan will make Japan helpless and dependent on the US at the same time, it will show Russia the extent of US power and will prevent Russia from usurping them in the arms race and power struggle) We also found out how US chose 17 cities in Japan to bomb. They wanted to choose a big city that is not already heavily damaged from previous bombings (this is so that the effect of the atomic bomb can be clearly seen) and with a lot of war activites going on (production of Japanese arsenal and training of soldiers etc) They also chose a city close to the sea so that if the bomb didnt go off it would be harder for the Japanese to locate it. Finally they chose Hiroshima because it was the only city believed to not have a Allies Prisoner of War camp. (Of course, they could have opt not to use the bomb at all. but more than 2 billion dollars have been used for its research and development, and some justification was called for) Of course, all of these information are given from the Japanese perspective, I'm sure the Americans have a different story.

From The Silken Backpack

Explanations... explanations...

And so on August 6, 1945; on the condition of a clear day, the bomb was set to be dropped on the city of Hiroshima. August 6 was a clear sunny day. And so Hiroshima saw a tragedy unlike anything the world has ever seen. The museum trip was very educational although some parts of it were a bit too much, and you can really feel how much they were trying to drive the point home. They even had samples of some keloids from victims of the bombing. A whole slab of stone was in the museum, where a woman was sitting when the bomb went off. The stone became white because of the heat while the burned body of the woman left a black imprint on the stone making it into a shadow.

From The Silken Backpack

Watch where the hands stopped at the time of the bombing

Sophie was done with the museum first and after a few minutes I joined her at the exit. We waited for about 2 1/2 hours until Katya and Viviane and Ewa were done. They practically set camp in that museum I swear. Afterwards we decided to go look for something to eat, we were looking for a Yoshinoya and after walking past the flame monument where the fire was kept burning until the last Atomic bomb was destroyed, we left the museum area and went to the city. After a while, we found a Yoshinoya. After eating we decided to go around the shopping area for a bit. After a while we got tired and decided to go to Tully’s Cafe. After some cappucinos, fruit drinks and hot cocoa, we decided to got o the Hiroshima Castle.

From The Silken Backpack

Sad Viviane in the museum, Hiroshima City and Hiroshima Castle

We walked in the rain but we got to see the outside of the castle. we didnt get to go inside because by then, it was already 8 pm and the castle was closed. We just took a few photos and decided to go straight home. By this time, we’ve decided to leave the next day for Shikoku instead of spending another day in Hiroshima. The next day is another adventure unto itself.

From The Silken Backpack

The Miyajima-Hiroshima Crew

Starting off with an Injury and an Encounter with one of the 3 Most Beautiful Views of Japan

May of 2005, I went for a crazy week of backpacking all over West Honshu and across Shikoku (Ok, review: Japan has 4 main islands, the biggest is Honshu followed by Hokkaido then Kyushu and the smallest Shikoku). That week was one of the most important weeks for a working Japanese, the Golden Week. Its the whole week of holiday when everybody packs up their stuff and go somewhere to remind themselves that their lives are not wholly constituted of work and ippai man en. Naturally this is also the time when all forms of transportation and accomodation raise their prices to the roof.

Knowing these, the gang decided to go the cheapest way, meaning go at the end of Golden Week.

So May 4, 2005, Sophie and I asked Mam Pia if we could sleep over at her house since its closer to Kita Senri eki and we had our bus to Hiroshima at 7:30 in the freaking morning. So we slept over at her house with the intention of waking up at 5 in the morning.

May 5, Intention realized. We woke up at 5 am and got ready to walk to Kita Senri. On the way to the station, we had to cut through a park and while going down the dirt and wood staircase I tripped and I swear I heard a crack. A pain shot up my ankle and I thought I broke my ruddy foot I got soo dizzy and I thought I was gonna faint. Sophie kinda freaked out and told me to snap out of it, get up and eat bread all at the same time. I felt better and I realized I could move my foot only it really hurts, I was able to walk anyway so even if it hurts I just thought "spiritual sacrifice" and we ventured on. We took the train to Osaka Umeda and found the bus station in good time. The bus was a cool double decker and we sat on the upper deck and I got the window seat so I had a pretty good time. We arrived in Hiroshima station 5 hours later and met up with Viviane, Ewa and Katya.

The plan of the day was to go to Miyajima (Miyajima is an island off Hiroshima, a meager 10 minute ferry boat ride) Miyajima’s main feature is the floating torii and Itsukushima Shrine. This is one of the 3 most beautiful places in all of Japan. The torii (Red Shinto gate) and the shrine is built on the shore, so at low tide you can walk up to the torii and touch it or put coins in between the small barnacles that had formed on the legs of the torii. But at hightide, the water comes in and covers a portion of the legs and so it appears that the torii is floating on water. It’s really very pretty.

From The Silken Backpack

Coins in the barnacles

After we all met in Hiroshima station, we put our luggages in the coin lockers and took a train to Miyajima guchi where the port and the ferries going to Miyajima are. We took the ferry and arrived in Miyajima at low tide so we were able to go and touch the torii (its supposed to bring you luck)

From The Silken Backpack

People digging in the beach, the torii at low tide, more coins and shrine on legs

Miyajima is also famous for all the deers that roam freely around the area, which also means that people have to be careful not to step on deer dung. We walked along side the deers and had one of them try to steal Ewa’s bag.

From The Silken Backpack

The culprit

We were walking along the beach and saw all these people curiously digging into the sand for I dont know what. We bought tickets to get into the shrine and we spent the time walking around it. It was a regular shrine except it s partly built on stilt-like trunks coz at high tide, water would also come up to about 5 to 10 inches below the floor.

Sophie was on a mission. She wanted to go up as many mountains in Japan as she can, sooo… we went up Mt. Misen. This is a mountain about an hour or 2 hike up where the top provides an excellent 360 degrees view of Miyajima island and a part of Hiroshima. Because of my ankle, the climb up was H-E-L-L. But after a few struggles we were getting close to the top.

We passed by a small temple where there was a fire caused by boiling water (One of the temple’s features was a water vat where the water is said to have been kept simmering for almost a hundred years). Sadly the water boiled over and caused the fire. When we got there all we saw were charred wood and a lot of firemen and TV crews. It was sad we didnt even get to see it before it got burned, but of course, what's sadder was that it burned at all.

From The Silken Backpack

Remains of the temple's water vat and the fire men

We passed the temple and continued our hike up the mountain until finally we reached the top (we were by this time clutching walking sticks like Gandalf) the top is just a few huge rocks and a small 2-story viewing structure from where you can see the whole island. The view was breath taking and we took quite a lot of photos and took a rest. (The price of water in the small store here is outrageously expensive) After a while we decided to get down the mountain as it was already getting dark.
If going up was hell for me, going down was even worse. I had to take the cable car to get down the mountain, and from there we took the bus to go back to the shrine and the torii.

From The Silken Backpack

Views from the top, Viviane the mountain lady and blessed cable cars

This time the tide has come in and the floating torii and shrine were really very beautiful and a sight to behold. It truly is one of the most beautiful places in Japan that Ive seen.

From The Silken Backpack

The shrine at high tide

From The Silken Backpack

The floating Torii

Frolicking in one of Japan’s Ghost Islands – Takashima

We boarded a high-speed ferry called "Kubarutokuin" from Nagasaki port to Takashima island, the one way ticket cost us 990 yen. The ferry ride was rather pleasant, the waters were cobalt blue and we passed by a number of stark white bridges that bounded effortlessly over the shimmering waters. In less than 40 minutes we arrived in Takashima port.

From The Silken Backpack

bridges along the way from Nagasaki to Takashima

Our first impression of the island was simple, we thought it was quiet, almost to the point of "too quiet". We walked a bit off the port and came upon the Fureai Camping Ground. It was an absolute haven for us. The camping ground we found in Kagoshima was ok, but that was just an expanse of land where we could "legitimately" set camp. But this camping ground was modern in comparison. There was a building with showers and vending machines inside and outside a row of neatly constructed tents made of sturdy vinyl awaited eager campers. Since we had our own tent, we ended up just paying 600 yen per night for the management and the rental fee. Each tent cost about 1,500 per nights rental.

From The Silken Backpack

Scenes in the Umibozou in Takashima artificial beach

The camping ground was annexed to the Umibouz in Takashima. This is a man-made beach that stretched for just about a kilometer. Breakwaters surrounded the beach in a crescent shape, barring it from the open sea beyond. It had cream colored sand of roughly ground shells and the water was pretty clear. A couple of floating platforms bounced off in the distance and some swimmers were lying down on them to soak up the sun. Beach umbrellas and plastic lounge chairs lined the boardwalk that is separated from the beach itself by several wide steps of brick. It strangely resembled a beach facility one would find at the back of a beach resort, unnatural but required for commercial purposes.

From The Silken Backpack

The Fureai Camping Ground

We set camp at the end of the row of tents, right underneath a tree. It was real nice, a lovely spot for a tent, a stone's throw away from the beach. It did seem as if Asen has found the vacation he was looking for. We didn't waste any time, we went straight for the beach, lounged around and assumed the role of the lazy and self-indulgent travelers.

The next day we decided to explore the island a little bit, we rented some bikes and literally covered the whole island on bicycle. As we went up and down the hills, veered off the main highways to go through the little streets, I started to get a bit worried. We passed by whole developments, houses, buildings, stores and parks, but there was no one there and I mean NO ONE. The center of the island was completely deserted. If all we found were acres upon acres of land and forest, it wouldn't have been so creepy, but there were buildings and facilities meant for residents but there was nobody. It was a real ghost town.

From The Silken Backpack

Off to discover on bike, compacted aluminum cans for recycling, mini marina and deserted apartment buildings

What we didn't know at this time was that Takashima Island was actually amongst the 3 Ghost Islands of Southern Kyushu. These islands were Takashima, Hashima and Sakito (Hashima, also known as Battleship Island, is still uninhabited although a small portion of it was re-opened to the public on April 22, 2009 after 20 years of closure). They were called Ghost Islands because it was said that anyone who set foot on them are unlikely to come back alive.

The history of these islands go back to the early 1900s when Korea was forcefully annexed to Japan. During this time coal was the main source of fuel and these 3 islands were chock-full of them. A great number of Koreans, around 10,000 in total, were conscripted to work the coal mines and were subjected to harsh labor, living conditions and the occassional (or frequent, who knows?) beatings, a number of them died from the work and from malnutrion. It is said that even the most experienced coalminers who have worked in the largest coalfields in Kyushu, in the Chikuho area, were afraid of going to the Ghost Islands.

The Mitsubishi Corporation took over the management of the coal mines of the Ghost Islands and due to the burgeoning importance of the islands' coal mines, housing developments were built to accommodate the expected increase in population in the islands especially during the latter part of the war. However, in the 1960s petroleum overtook coal and one by one the coal mines closed down, and the only industry that supported the islands was obliterated. The nearby Hashima Island which was almost completely covered in concrete apartment blocks closed down its mining operation in 1974 and all residents left the island until all that was left was the derelict buildings and a silence that is broken only by the fishermen that can only come as close as the seawalls. Up until the date it re-opened to the public in 2009, only one recorded landing in August 2005 was made and only journalists were allowed on Hashima Island.

Takashima Island, on the other hand, became the focal-point of a tourism revival plan. Hotels, golf courses and other facilities (including the Umibouzu) were built on the island to lure holiday makers. But the plan failed miserably and soon, the tourism facilities closed down and fell into disrepair. Up to this day, these 3 islands still serves as a painful reminder to the Koreans of what they had to suffer under the hands of the Japan Empire.

From The Silken Backpack

The battleship-shaped island of Hashima with it's silhouette of huge concrete apartment blocks

When we got back to the main high way, we came upon a really pretty windmill atop a hill and we stopped by here to take pictures. Here we got views of the deserted apartment buildings and Hashima Island. Going down we came upon piles of recyclable waste that was just interesting to us so of course, a couple of photos were taken. We passed by the small marina for the fishing boats, once more, it was pretty deserted, save for a couple of old men working their nets. We soon came upon the Tobishima Fishing Park, which was basically a bridge connecting the main island to a small, uninhabited island that didn't look interesting at all. It was supposed to be packed with tourists during the summer, but it was already August when we were there, the height of summer, but there was no one in sight... creepy.

From The Silken Backpack

Windmills, highways and coastlines

Off the Tobishima Fishing Park was Umibozou so were right back where we started. It was really astonishing, how small the island was, so we were once again faced with no other activity aside from lounging, swimming, eating and getting tanned. We spent the whole day in leisure and in the evening we went to the public bath house (where I saw the sorriest looking naked old lady with skin hanging off her bones like melting wax to a candle) and barbequed the produce we bought from a store during our biking expedition for dinner.

From The Silken Backpack

Our tent under the tree, dinner on the grill and killing time in the tent

The next day we decided to go back to Nagasaki and from Nagasaki we took the train back to Fukuoka and from Fukuoka boarded the overnight train back to Osaka. It was only 2 days from then before we would go to the airport, get on 2 different planes, one bound for Paris, another for Manila, and say good bye to a fantastic year of learning, adventures and friendships. And although I could feel the sadness creeping up on me like a thief in the night, I could only be grateful for a week of ridiculous fun that is nothing, if not the best ending to a story that I could have ever and indeed, never dared hope for.

From The Silken Backpack

On the way back