Fun in the rising sun

Better start this post by issuing a warning - there's a copious amount of naked flesh below.

Not mine, you'll be thankful, but quite a bit of Japanese T'n'A. So if that isn't your thing, divert your gaze... now!

I rocked up in Fukuoka midday on a Friday, stepping off the 'Beetle' hydrofoil from Busan in South Korea (a boat that screams across the water separating the two countries in a lightening quick three hours), again with the sun following me all the way.

Time for lunch, and also my first taste of fast food dining Japanese style. After locating the nearest Ichiran, a popular local chain serving delicious ramen, I ordered my meal in the same way people at home buy Tube tickets - feed your money into a machine by the entrance and press the buttons that relate to your chosen dish (ramen, ramen and more ramen). Out spits a receipt, with which you walk towards the dining area.

I took my place on a stool at the long, narrow serving counter, populated exclusively by local office workers grabbing a brief bite (and these guys and girls really do slurp their noodles down in no time at all). The counter is separated from the kitchen, and therefore all of Ichiran's staff, by a long red curtain along it's entire length. As soon as I took my seat, a disembodied hand plunged from under the curtain towards me. I passed the hand my receipt, and in return received another menu. This allowed me to further refine my meal, selecting the firmness of the noodles, the strength of the soup, the amount of garlic and green onions, whether you want pork or not... the list went on and on, and by the end of it I was filling in each question with the same semi-enthusiasm most people use to complete those mandatory questionnaires after training sessions at work.

But the food I ended up with was spectacular, a steaming hot bowl of ramen with a ton of fresh green onions and enough garlic to ward off several generations of vampire, all swimming in a slurptastic soup. I could've have stayed there for hours, but the done thing seemed to be to vacate the restaurant as quickly as you entered it.

So what about that bare flesh I promised?

Okee doke.

The start of my Japan adventure nicely coincided with the staging of the latest Grand Sumo Tournament in Fukuoka. And although all the prime seats had long since been snapped up by devotees, the thoughtful organisers had kept back a few 'on-the-day' passes to allow those straight off the boat a chance at watching a true Japanese passion first hand.

And the big guys certainly didn't disappoint. Firstly, as comes with the job, they're huge. Absolute mammoths, but at the same time no less athletic than participants in any other wrestling discipline. And they move pretty quick too, especially when it comes to slapping the oppo's shoulders/neck/face. Just as important as each combatant is the ceremony, with each bout preceded by a half-sung half-bellowed announcement and followed by respectful bows to opponent, the ring, and the officials.

Some match-ups last seconds, others an epic minute or two. And although I'm not well versed enough in the finer points of sumo to appreciate the nuances of each fight, the tension that builds when these guys reach stalemate - each man just holding on to his opponents belt, or if that is out of reach his spare tyre - really is something to witness.

Unfortunately, I got my timing a bit wrong. Concerned that I'd miss out on the tickets for that day, I arrived at the sumo early morning with plans to stay for a few hours before I had to move my backpack to a new bed for the night. But just as locals in Spain don't dream of going out for a drink until the early hours of the morning, the people of Fukuoka would rather not arrive at the sumo tournament until mid-way through the afternoon. So my time at the sumo was in a half-empty arena, useful for sneaking into the good seats but not so great for experiencing the wild atmosphere and pumped crowd that surrounds bouts towards the end of each day.

But it was all cracking fun nonetheless, and total essential viewing for anyone who's lucky to be in town the same time the heavies are there too.

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Armed with a countrywide Japan Rail Pass, I was determined to see much more of Japan than just city life. With a goal of ending up on the north coast of Western Honshu, I headed first for the town of Tsuwano. Lying in a picturesque valley between two sets of hills, with a population of only a few thousand and several examples of traditional Japanese architecture, Tsuwano is one of a number of places in Japan that likes to brand itself "Little Kyoto". Although I wouldn't want to dispute this claim, I reckon the town had enough charm of it's own to get rid of any comparative tags, and to be proud of calling itself just plain old Tsuwano.

For a start, they've got some stellar fish. Huge multicoloured carp, swimming in streams that run along the streets of Tsuwano, outnumber the resident Human population by something like ten to one.

And have you ever seen a more atmospheric T-junction anywhere in the world?

Nope, I think not.

But seriously, Tsuwano was just perfect. Although it drizzled for much of the day, the low cloud and lush green just made the setting even more appealing. And I stayed in an incredible ryokan (basically a Japanese B&B), where I was fed all kinds of stunning Japanese dishes - soups, veggies, fish, noodles, tofu - and that was just those I could actually identify. For breakfast, alongside more of the same, my host invited me to follow her into a small garden area where she was growing wild mushrooms. I picked a handful, gave them a rinse, and then grilled them over an open flame, dipped them in some soy, and popped them in my mouth where they instantly became the loveliest bunch of shrooms I've ever eaten.

Tsuwano was top dollar, but why do more people not know about this place? Almost nobody I spoke to afterwards, tourists and Japanese alike, had heard of the town. Trust me, go there!

The following morning I continued east along the San-in line, the train hugging the rocky coast allowing fantastic views of a pretty angry looking Sea of Japan.

Getting off in Matsue, I vowed to have a lazy day. My back was still giving me some trouble almost a week after i'd left Gyeongju in Korea, so I took the opportunity to visit one of Matsue's many spas in the hope of easing the ache. Being a quiet mid-week afternoon, I managed to get a hot spring-sourced pool all for myself, and soaked for a very relaxing hour.

With a clear head, and considerably increased mobility in my neck and shoulders, I headed back for an early night. A 6am start and a convoluted dog leg of a route awaited, but it would lead me to a city I'd dreamed of for countless years - Hiroshima. And that's coming up next.