From Sea to (Monkey) Mountain

[Formerly "Friday highlights."]

Speed blogging yet again. The last couple of days have seen an increase in foreigners and accordingly an increase in competition for laptop time.

Today began partly sunny, then all sunny and beautiful, then pouring down rain. We did a little sea-watching, a little shopping, and then spent the afternoon at the aquarium (surprisingly awesome) and ... ahem... at Monkey Mountain. With the monkeys. A LOT of monkeys. But very small ones.

Then a wonderful surprise visit from Aunt Fuchan!! Hooray!

Dinner at a little shop on Beppu's Ginza.

Will fill in details after packing. Sayonara for now.

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After the fact: I managed to get Gary away from his futon this morning and down to the sea before 7am. The sun had risen but wasn't yet free of the clouds, which were fairly persistent.

The old marina in Beppu.

I remember these huge wave-breaker things from our first visit in 1977.

With the sun well on its way, though still mostly hidden by clouds, we met up with family for our last breakfast at the inn. Mother and Father headed out again on their own (will post their stories this coming weekend, once they divulge them). Gary, Troy, Ian and I eventually firmed up our plans to visit the aquarium and Monkey Mountain, with the basics (and a discount coupon) from the Foreign Tourist Information Office.

The simple fare system: Hold open your hand full of change, have the bus driver take what he needs. Universal.

Our first stop was the aquarium, which we very nearly skipped as I was disappointed to know they have just one otter, which seems unusually cruel. But other descriptions persuaded us and we were all game to go.

First, a disclaimer: I will admit that I've not yet been to the Monterey Bay or Georgia aquaria, and Baltimore lacks the density (probably a good thing). But for me, this was pretty remarkable.

Entering on the second floor, walking into a darkened room, this is the first thing we see.

A two-story "window" lively with grouper, rays, sharks, cobia, pompano, jack, eels... everywhere, there is size, variety and sheer quantity.

Around the turn, the grand view awaits. After some staring from as close as the velvet rope allows, I stand at the back of the room to take in two exhibits in one: fish, and humans.

A diver several feet below floor level, at the bottom of the tank, begins the work of scrubbing algae and general cleaning. His bubbles sort of botch my subsequent shots by disrupting the fish flow. But what a cool job.

In other rooms we find more fine creatures. A blenny living with a shrimp, starfish reminiscent of Spiderman, the Japanese giant salamander (billed as "the largest amphibia," seriously LARGE), a very juvenile spider crab, sea robins, gar, cutlass fish, anchovies/ silversides (aka small silver fish), jellyfish, squid, sea cucumbers, a dozen catfish jammed into the doorway of a dollhouse (?!), baby filefish, puffers, an interesting mix of eels living together in a cave with a couple of hefty grouper. Lush anemones draped over rock, clown fish flirting amidst the tentacles. Arty eagle and southern-type rays soar overhead as we pass through a clear tunnel. And one lone otter swims and plays by himself. (Herself? Couldn't read the sign, my lame refrain. Argh.) At least he was well-fed. His keeper washed the windows from the inside as we watched, not an easy job on a short ledge with a pushy otter bobbing about. That job seems pretty cool too.

In relatively short order (disputed by some) we find ourselves outside with walruses, sea lions and a few penguins, one of which is hell-bent on escaping by swimming through plexiglass. We briefly consider a way to set them free. Troy and Ian dodge the "touching pools" where the small sharks and rays look like they could use a holiday of their own.

With the afternoon fast drawing to a close, we head across the overpass to reach the base of Monkey Mountain.

A sampling of things you should not do to monkeys.

In my mind I recall artful photographs of monkeys relaxing in hot springs as snow falls, dusting their brows. For no good reason, these imagined monkeys are big. Substantial. Creatures from whom I'd gladly keep a distance.

The monkeys - macaques - we find at the end of the cable car ride up the mountain are small, petite. And numerous. We arrive at evening feeding time, and as the keepers scatter food, monkeys are everywhere, running within inches of us and filling their cheeks as fast as they can. The air is filled with the sound of paws sweeping the sandy soil and the hollow popping noise of hand to mouth.

There are at least ten monkeys in this photo. Can you find them all?

In truth, these photos do no justice to the scene of a hundred-plus monkeys fairly wall-to-wall at dinnertime. If anyone has a major primate hankering, I'll post one of those photos too.

Following the monkey extravaganza, we head back down the mountain to the bus stop at the bottom, where we have a rarity on this trip: a half hour to simply breathe. The wind has been vigorous all afternoon and now teases up white-tipped waves. We watch as a rainstorm drenches Beppu and makes its way across the bay to Oita. We are glad it passes us by.

Our return to Beppu is a bit bittersweet, as this is our last evening in Japan. Before returning to the inn, we stop at Tokiwa to find bright nylon "carp" for Father to fly at home. A short visit with Mother and Father brings a few of the stories of the day (future posting!) and then a surprise drop-in from Aunt Fuchan. It really is wonderful beyond words to see family here, and these unexpected visits are absolute highlights.

Aunt Fuchan doesn't stay long, and we soon head out for dinner. Pouring rain - but we are prepared and we make our way to little Ginza.

We find a narrow restaurant full of atmosphere and patrons. We count ourselves lucky to find room at the small bar, and are soon seated next to a pair of turtles in an even smaller aquarium.

The space crunch is more than made up for by that rarest of rarities: big drinking glasses. As in, more than six ounces. Maybe this is what is behind the popularity of beverage vending machines... something to drink after one leaves a restaurant.

Goofy photo, yes. But better than the other options.

This restaurant, we soon learn, specializes in steak. The menu is extensive and other dishes sound interesting, but we are discouraged from trying them by the chef. Hard to argue with the man preparing your meal. With no tempura or sukiyaki to be had, I opt for gyoza. Others fall for the steak pitch. Gaijin! In the end, everything is quite good and for the first time ever, we manage to finish our meals.

Thus and happily concludes our final Japanese dinner. We return to our rooms to pack our traveling lives back into now overstuffed bags, and make ready to form one last human daisy chain of people and luggage in the morning.