My three readers will know how much I have loved the food in Japan, and this trip is no different. In my childhood I was taught by my mother about the five major food groups in the Rosewood food pyramid – bread, butter, vegemite, roasts, and overcooked veges. In Tokyo, I have also tried to balance my diet, but with five major Japanese food groups – tonkatsu, udon, tempura, gyoza, and rice of course.

The eating highlight was without doubt a meal we had at a local tempura restaurant – it was sensational! The restaurant seated about 12 people – we got to sit at the bench next to their open kitchen. There were only three staff on duty – a 60-year-old floor manager/waiter, a 70-year-old chef, and an 80-year-old kitchen hand. None of the three had any English – but each of them obviously had enormous pride in their craft. The meal started at 7 pm for every table – and finished at 8:30 for everyone. I can think of very few meals I have enjoyed more in my wanders – ever.

Yesterday, the travel was by Shinkansen to a small coastal city called Odawara. There, we were met and shown around by two of Linda’s ex-students. Chi (the eldest) is a trained teacher but gave up teaching to help on the family farm – although the term ‘farm’ may be a bit generous, at least by Australian standards. We were shown around the city by Chi and her sister Saki, and then we were taken back to their house to meet her grandparents and to see their fields. The whole property is half a hectare. They grow a range of veges and have two rice paddies that have just been planted out – after that tour, it was lunch at a noodle restaurant.

I know that I am not good at sitting still, but in Japan, I am not good at sitting per se. At a Japanese table, one must sit on the floor with your feet behind you as it is impolite to position your feet toward other guests. However, I believe it would also be impolite to scream in agony and weep copious tears because of the damage being done to one’s knees and hips,even before the soba noodles are ordered. My knees would have exploded had I tried to adhere to Japanese etiquette, so Rosewood rules were applied, and my arthritic legs were extended under the table.

Tomorrow, we head for Vienna. The tables will have chairs, the restaurant staff will probably be young and sprightly, and the pastries will be divine. But I doubt that we will have a meal that comes close to tempura pepared by octogenarians or have a guide that even minutely compares to Chi or Saki. I doubt that I will taste seafood anything near the quality we have enjoyed here. But at least I am taking my knee caps with me to the land of the croissant, even if I did offend my hosts by saving myself from excruciating pain. Can’t have it all, I suppose. Better let you go Scotty, time to pack my bags for the next leg of the trip.

Farley