So, what was this area all about?
I was about to see.
After weighing our options, the sister and I decided to first go to a winery. Living in
It was raining slightly and it was cold enough for any slight drizzle to be obnoxious. There was a nice garden out front, but based on the temperature, it wasn’t worth exploring, so we went inside. I didn’t notice at the time, but it seemed we went in the exit, which wasn’t a big deal. Upon entrance, I was a bit surprised how much like a large American winery this was. There was a room where they were selling snacks, cakes, and fancy dips. Past that was the tasting area. In theory we were supposed to see that on the way out, not the way in, but it didn’t matter so much. The longer I looked, the more I realized how different it was, as what were normally fancy crackers and chocolates was replaced with dried fish snacks and a variety of pastries. The most horrendous and sad part of it all is that the wine shop was missing cheese. I’m quite aware that good cheese a scarce commodity here in
When we went to the tasting section, it was not what I was expecting. We were given small glasses and allowed to go around tasting any of the wines we desired. These were not wine glasses by any account, more resembling shot glasses, but smaller. Most of the wine was available in bottles but a few types came in wooden jugs with taps. I’m used to people serving me wine, and for a few types there was someone eagerly serving, but most were self service.
The wines ranged from pretty good to really terrible. They were generally quite sweet, and on some it was nice, but on others it was just too much. The pear wine and one of their champagnes I found to be quite good, and a few others were decent but still seemed far behind the quality I’m used to in
After the tasting, we went on to view their mini tour of the production facilities. This was a sharp contrast from the American wineries I’ve seen. In
The sister got a chance to taste some gourmet non-alcoholic fruit juices and snacks while I was doing the drinking. As we were leaving, after purchasing a few bottles, we stopped by a miniature ice cream stand on the way out that was selling winery made ice cream. There was wine flavored ice cream, made with real wine and my memory is foggy, but I believe it either said 1% or .1% alcohol in the ice cream. The sister and the girl behind the counter both said it was a bad idea to eat it if you were planning on driving. They were so strong on this point that they both thought even tasting it was a bad idea. While I truly admire their discipline, even at 1%, it would take 5 times as much ice cream to equal one beer, and the volume was a normal cone, so, and I’m being quite generous, the volume of a standard can of beer. While I think the sign said .1% not 1%, I’ll be even more lax and assume eating the cone was comparable to drinking 1/5 of a beer. While maybe the lightest of drinkers may be affected by that, I can’t possibly imagine anyone who could be affected by even a taste. But, as the signs seemed to indicate, the question asked and the answer given about not even allowing a taste to the driver were common, so this wasn’t the first time it had been asked. With some pondering, it made me realized how much better this solution is, and while alcohol flows like water quite often in this country, I’m very glad that drinking and driving is taken extremely seriously and the thought of ‘okay to drive’ isn’t considered.
The next point of interest was a bit of a bust, yet also another learning experience. Much like in
The sister, still being my tour guide, was actually quite disappointed, as this building used to contain a section where they were weaving fabrics by hand and explained a bit about the process. Instead of this, there was a big empty room, which was a tad depressing, but it was a nice stop anyways. I could tell she was more disappointed than I was, which makes sense, because I didn’t really mind so much and she wanted to show off something interesting that wasn’t there anymore.
After the rest stop, we decided to see some traditional points of interest. On our way, we drove by a small train station, and the sister wanted to show me something special. The station itself was quite unremarkable, as it was a bland building and some tracks. Outside, however, there was a quite large, possibly seven feet or so, bust of Ultraman. I couldn’t quite understand why, but it was an odd site and worth driving by to look at. Of course, I took a picture.
We headed to
The main shrine itself was quite massive and elegant. There were plenty of hand carved decorations and a thick thatched roof. The roof alone reminded me of some buildings I have seen in
At the bottom of the hill, there was a giant Ginkgo tree. It seemed like people were unsure how old the tree was, but it was thought that the tree was planted at the end of the Gosannen no Eki war, which ended in 1087. If that was true or not, one thing was for sure, this was an old tree.
We went driving, and I kept hearing these vans driving around. They all had megaphones on the top and were shouting, while inside people wearing white gloves were smiling and waving to everyone. It turns out that there was an election coming up real soon, and they were trying to gain some political support. I found it more obnoxious than anything else, but I’m neither Japanese nor a resident of the area, so my opinion didn’t really matter to them.
We drove for a bit, and enjoyed some fun and interesting conversation and I really liked seeing the scenery around. The sister showed me this gorgeous pagoda in quite an empty area. It was amazingly striking, and seemed kind of in the middle of nowhere, which added to the drama. I couldn’t read the sign, as it was all in Japanese with lots of kanji, however I could read, and was explained that it was originally built in 860. Not 1860, mind you, but 860. From what I gathered, it was previously destroyed and rebuilt, but the original date of construction was 860, which is quite impressive. It was built with all interlocking wooden pieces and supposedly no nails were originally used. It was clear that there were nails in the handrail around it, however I couldn’t see any in the building itself.
There was another small building behind it which looked quite dilapidated and a sign with a digital reproduction of that building looking much nicer. It seemed like that building was just about to undergo renovation, so future generations could see it too. While its current state was a tad depressing, the knowledge it was coming back was quite welcome. There were a few other sites around, but the obvious important part was the building that was soon to be rebuilt and the pagoda.
We headed on back and on the way were instructed to pick up some ingredients for dinner. One such ingredient was beef, but not just any beef. Yonezawa is well known for having some of, if not the best beef in
It seemed everyone was still a bit full from lunch, but the father and I snacked and drank while the sister and mother ended up cooking. I helped out a little, but as I’m quite useless in the kitchen and most of the work was already done, I didn’t have much to offer. When the diner came, it was fantastic. The sukiyaki was quite flavorful and robust; just what I wanted on a cold winter night. The beef was quite good, but while I liked it, I wasn’t totally blown away. Then again, it was an ingredient in a very flavorful dish, not a stand-alone testament to the quality of the meat. Maybe next time, I’ll try Yonezawa beef grilled alone, or in shabu-shabu form. Something so I can get a flavor of just the meat.
As the night and the drinks poured on, the mother ended up breaking out her jug of homemade plum wine. I may not be a plum wine expert, but this was good stuff, quite easily what I would consider to be the best I’ve ever had. We were getting more comfortable with each other’s company and after a nice meal, the father, mother and I decided to retire to the kotatsu room and play some hanafuda. The problem was I didn’t know how to play and they didn’t know English.
When asked about hanafuda, I let out a bit of an overenthusiastic “Aaaah!” at the idea of playing. I didn’t know the game at all, but I recalled learning that Nintendo got their start by selling hanafuda cards back in the late 1800’s. I had no idea what I was doing, but the game was quite simple to understand and after 2 rounds, I pretty much had it figured out, even though it wasn’t explained to me using words. I can’t speak for the father and mother, but I had a very enjoyable time playing it. After several rounds of that, the father challenged me to a game of Othello. It seemed like something he really enjoyed playing and while I liked it too, I hadn’t played in years and I was no good then, so I got my ass thoroughly kicked. It was quite fun, and added a lovely end to a very long and wonderful day. After that, it was time for bed.
But the next day, there was something said about a ski trip?