“Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.” ― Arundhati Roy
Visitors to Mas St Joseph might notice various homages to Japan in the decor, such as the single brush stroke horse paintings in the living room, the delicate ceramics and prints on the landing, or the Hiroshige prints in la Chambre de l’Abbé. I was born in Tokyo but have only been back to Japan a few times in my life. More recently, after the death of my Japanese mother in 2020, I felt a great loss not only for her presence, as she had always been a big part of my life, but also for that last direct connection to the land of my birth.
As soon as the Covid 19 travel restrictions were lifted in 2022, my sister and I decided to travel to Japan to see our 92 year old aunt and last remaining Japanese relative. It was not only wonderful to see her again after more than twenty years, but also meaningful to be traveling with a sense of purpose. I was carrying a small portion of my mother’s ashes to join those of her mother at a Buddhist temple shrine in Kyoto, cradled by hills which rise majestically from the edge of the city, veined with forest pathways and waterfalls and caves made sacred with offerings to the Shinto gods.
In December 2024 my sister and I spent a week in Japan seeing our aunt in Tokyo once again, but also revisiting one of our favourite places: the little town of Shimoda which clings to a peninsula which fuses the mildest microclimate with the wildest coastline. We fell in love with this place because it is as extraordinary as it is unexpected, being relatively close to Tokyo yet as remote from a metropolis as it is possible to imagine.
When foreigners come to Japan many believe they have found another world, and it is different in so many ways. So many French people have fallen in love with the culture, the art and the food whilst visiting the cities. It is easy to project futuristic sci-fi fantasies onto the gleaming skyscrapers and Shinkansen bullet trains, but a paradox of Japan is that all this coexists with a primeval nature whose beauty is somehow sublimated by a culture whose Shinto roots animate everything from rocks, waves, and mountains to the delicate ephemeral cherry blossom.
To swim in December in Japan’s Pacific Ocean surrounded by surfers is an experience neither I nor my sister will ever forget. We were staying in the simple “Trad House” of Takéi who has surfed here since the age of 12. We met up with him and his mates in a tiny drinking hole called Bingo where there is only room for a dozen or so people and we communicated largely via gestures (raising our glasses!), smiles and laughter, with Van Morrison playing in the background.
We were doubly blessed in that we also have a friend in Shimoda: an expatriate colleague of my sister’s who had lived in Japan teaching English back in the heydays of the 1980s. He and his beautiful Japanese wife had invited us to a dinner which was yet another peak experience, this time a culinary one, surely worthy of a Michelin star. The entrees were a work of art and the main course Shabu-shabu, a kind of hot-pot, all time favourite of mine, was perfectly executed.
Back in Tokyo, the temptations of consumerism were hard to deny. In view of the currently undervalued Japanese Yen, Tokyo is a shopping treat, but it pays to be selective. My sister had been charged by her talented foodie husband to buy a Japanese chef’s knife and I needed to replace my old hōcho, a vegetable chopping knife. Japan is renowned for the craftsmanship of its samurai swords and the same goes for its culinary knives. There is a whole street in Tokyo with nothing but knife shops and it didn’t take long to find what we were looking for. Second hand camera shops also proved to be great value for immaculately maintained lenses while the little village of Koenji where we were staying proved to be a vintage clothing mecca and nigh impossible to resist browsing for bargains.
A bout of materialist consumption requires the antidote of aesthetic contemplation, so one evening we visited a local park where the beauty of late autumn leaves was sublimated by artful lighting into a photographer’s paradise.
The Japanese sense of visual playfulness was also apparent at the most popular museums in Tokyo, the digital art installations by Teamlabs. We had previously visited the more tactile Teamlabs Planets, but this time we opted for the more visually innovative Teamlab Borderless. It is hard to do justice to the visual impact through photographs, but everyone was trying to capture the otherworldly “wowosphere” on video on their phones. Perhaps a highlight for us was going to the Tea-room at the heart of museum and being served green tea with macha ice-cream, both of which came to life growing fresh tendrils, leaves and flowers of light on the table in front of us, a more enchanting experience would be hard to imagine.
Food culture in Tokyo needs little introduction. The playful spirit is to be found even in the smallest backstreets. We had lunch at a tiny tempura restaurant in Koenji where a TV crew happened to be filming a program for Asahi TV, and we served as useful gaijin idiots: literally talking (eating) heads! The star of the show however was the chef, whose disappearing flying egg trick was a comic slapstick masterpiece. The tempura was also as thoroughly enjoyable as the performance!
Another culinary delight was in an Okinawan bar serving wonderful snacks along with the beer and citrus wine including Japanese caviar a kind of seaweed speciality from Okinawa: each tiny little green ball exploded with savoury umami flavour.
Our final night was a feast of various delights. It involved various firsts for me including my first ever encounter with a barracuda and I admit I preferred to meet it on a plate than coming towards me underwater with its muti-bladed jaws wide open!
The doors to that other world had opened all too briefly and then closed, but I still hear, taste and see all the gifts that my motherland had given me and for which I will always be grateful. Back home I am enriched with the experience and will endeavour to integrate it into the spirit and service of Mas St. Joseph.
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