Pottery Part Deux: The Return to Akizuki.

Hello again, readers!  It's WR this week.

Remember back to Golden Week?  That epic string of mini-adventures I wrote about?  Well (if you don't remember), during the vacation, I went to Akizuki and made pottery with a few of my friends.  The cups and plates and candle-thingies we slaved over sat for several weeks, hardening or... something.  I'm not sure.  Then, they were glazed to perfection and baked in a kiln.

So.  You know what that means...? 

The Amagi Line!  Platform, this way!

 Back to Akizuki we go, to pick up our creations! 

Amagi Station.  A tile mural thing.

This time, there were only three of us making the trip.  We decided to make the best of it, though, by exploring a new part of the town and hitting some different tourist sites than we saw in our first visit.  Unfortunately, rainy season had just begun (stupid, but totally-ecologically-necessary rainy season!).  But we ladies refused to let a little drizzle keep us down!  (Insert "Success Kid" Face.)

First thing on the list of things we were told we just HAD to do in Akizuki (but were unable to do the first time around) was eat kuzukiri, cold-served arrowroot noodles.  So, we found a highly-recommended, allegedly-famous shop just off the main drag.  It was gorgeous inside.

Pretty, ne?

The menu!

The three of us each ordered the standard noodles, shown in the upper right photo, above.  Below, you can see what arrived.  The noodles are in the middle (served on ice, with a cherry blossom).  The dipping sauce is on the left, and a plate of picked something-or-other is on the right. 

 

Now.  Here's where I need to give you a little more information: All we were told about kuzukiri was that they were "noodles" which were "famous in Akizuki."  And we, probably like most Westerners, assumed that noodles would be a savory sort of meal.  So, we thought, when we ordered, that we were about to eat lunch.

Not so much.

It turns out that kuzukiri is a dessert.  A strange, cold, jello-like, sickeningly sweet dessert.  We decided to do a little photo-journalism to capture the experience of eating it for the first time.  Enjoy.

"I'm not so sure about this, you guys..."

"Finally caught the slippery little bastard!"

"Wait, should this taste like... this?"

"Maybe, uhh... maybe the pickles will help..."

(Actual candid shot.)

"Whew.  Finished.  This is what adventure tastes like."

Despite the look on my face in shot #5, I think if you were suitably prepared, kuzukiri would actually be quite good.  But, for us three rained-on and starving girls, cold-molasses-and-pickled-greens-jello-soup was not exactly what we had in mind when we walked in.

Regardless, we had places to go!  Things to do!  So, we spread our touristy map (in English!) across the table and formed a plan. 

We made our own Akizuki walking tour!  We stopped at a nearby temple, a few local shops, a fantastic flea market, a preserved samurai-family house and museum, and of course, our final destination; the pottery cafe.

As always, here are the photo highlights!

Imakouji Bridge.

Gorgeous, rainy temple grounds.

More temple grounds.

The temple itself, I think.

We took brief shelter from the steadily increasing rain inside a quirky little cafe & shop.  We browsed both the downstairs lobby and the upper loft, discovering some interesting treasures along the way.

Movie posters!

An old, beautiful map of Kyushu.

Artfully-tacky, old-timey cards.

A cute shot of Natalie, as we descended.

Then, after another short and soppy walk, we came to the Akizuki Flea Market.  This place was amazing.  I probably snapped a hundred pictures inside.  There were so many interesting things!  I mean, it was everything I adore about American Flea Markets, but with a completely different cultural twist.  A combination of completely familiar and totally foreign.  I loved it.

While shopping, I started a conversation with an older gentleman that worked there.  In Japanese.  Okay, well... he really started the conversation... and it was in very simple Japanese... but I found out that he was born in the city where I live (Chikushino).  So, we talked about restaurants that we like, and the neighborhood I live in, and what I do in Japan, and where I'm from, and when he moved to Akizuki, etc., etc... ALL IN JAPANESE.  Bam! 

The guy even gave me a discount on a necklace I was buying!  [Note:  In certain places in Japan, like Flea Markets, there is a widespread "haggle" culture.  Now, I don't participate in this at all, because I'm terrified of misjudging a haggle-atmosphere and offending someone when I don't have the language to gracefully and/or desperately apologize.  So, really, by giving me a discount, I assume that he was basically haggling on my behalf.  I even tried to talk him back up in price, but he was a very good haggler and wouldn't have any of it.]

Anyway, it was great.  And here's a few select photos.

I laugh every single time.

Every shelf, full of tiny wonders!

Kero-kero!

Once we'd shopped our fill, we continued onward toward the next stop on the tour.  As we walked, we paused near the entrance of a cafe (one side of the street) and a restaurant (the other side of the street) to check our progress on the map.  The rain was coming down harder now and, as one of us accidentally left her umbrella in Amagi station, we were all huddled under 2 small umbrellas. 

(We also happened to be huddling near this bucket of tomatoes for sale, which I show you for no reason at all, other than the fact that I think it's a really cute picture.  No surprise; the sign reads, in katakana, "Tomatoes.")

"To-ma-to."

But I digress.  So.  A local man, presumably the owner of one of the shops, saw us standing there in the pouring rain and ran away across the street, through the downpour, saying, "ちょっと待って," ("Wait a minute.")  He came back a moment later with an umbrella for us.  We told him that we wouldn't be coming back this direction, so we couldn't return it.  But, he insisted.  We thanked him again and again and continued on our way.

A few moments later, us now farther down the road, he calls out to us again.  We turned, and there he was; running up the street with a bigger, nicer umbrella.  He said something about the other one being too small and cheap.  We said about a zillion ありがとうございました's, to which he just grinned boyishly and waved his hand in that dismissive gesture that I've come to know so well.  Oh, Japan.  Sometimes, you can be really, really kind.

A bit more walking in the rain, and we arrived at our next stop; Bukeyashiki, the samurai house and museum.  It was a gorgeously preserved old-style Japanese house and garden.  And, given the weather, we had the whole place to ourselves!  Here are a few photos.

Looking out toward one of the gardens.

A garden off one of the first floor, main-hall rooms.

Very Seussian looking, no?

Photos & relics of the samurai family.

Then, we left the museum and made the last, short walk to the pottery cafe.  It was as beautiful and cozy as I remembered it, and I told the owners repeatedly that I was moving in.  (They seemed okay with it, actually.)  At last, our lovely pottery teacher brought out our bounty, one piece at a time. 

Look at all them pretty bowls!

We were thrilled that nothing broke, or cracked, or exploded in the kiln, as is always a possibility with noob-pottery-makers like us.  And I was especially pleased that nothing fell or broke off of my design, which was a precarious one.  It looks beautiful with the light green glaze!

Ta-daaaa!  Finished candle-thingie!

Eleanor poses with her pretty bowl.

Pottery safely wrapped and stowed, we trudged back into town, boarded the bus to Amagi, and ventured back to Fukuoka (where... funny enough... we all went to the same birthday potluck party, that night).

So, Akizuki.  Part Deux.
A wet day.  A tiring day.  But a really, really great one.

Thanks for reading, everyone!  And don't forget to feed the fish!
WR