These are not radishes

The doughty Dr. Martin, here seen on the Delightful Miss E`s little red Yes We Can bicycle, accompanied me on my return to Matsue from Hiroshima. Dr. M was eager to take in some country air and experience the thrills and spills of life in a small country town, but could only stay for a day before going crater surfing in Mt. Fuji. In order to maximise his experience of the excitement of country life it was inevitable that I should take him on a trip to the centre of Shimanean entertainment - Daikon Shima, or Radish Island, as it would be known in English.

Radish Island is famous across the world for the Yuushien Chinese Garden, which has an assortment of peonies, a bridge, an island, a restaurant and some ancient Chinese Earth moving equipment (on the island). I can sense the beating of your excited heart - imagine how we felt, to be catching a dinky Matsue bus to the very real heart of all this excitement and peonistic fervour? Never have I quivered quite so at the thought of someone else`s peonies. And how appropriate that there should be a wide collection of oversized peonieses at Radish Island.

In order to reach Radish Island one catches the dinky bus from Matsue station. This bus goes the slow way, for example heading west from the station instead of East, and taking the last turn off before the express tunnel through the mountains so that it can wind its way through quaint fishing villages to the Radish Island Causeway. Granted, these villages are much more interesting than an express tunnel, with fish nets laid out to dry on stone walls, strings of persimmons hung from the eaves of houses, and ancient farmers and fisherfolk wandering the narrow street. The street was so narrow that cyclists had to pull over for the bus, and there was no passing other cars. Also, the bus returns by a different route on the other side of the mountain, so it seems to be the village of no return. Good thing we chose not to alight to sample the exciting sights and sounds of the seaside! Maybe it is the Japanese Innsmouth...

On the Causeway we passed flocks of ducks and sunken rusted hulks of ships, before heading over a hill and coming to a stop within a cooee of the Garden. We went the wrong way and climbed a hillside, though, then had to double back through autumn fields before finally reaching the gardens. The gardens were a bit of a disappointment, being pretty but not superb (I feel I am becoming a connoisseur of Japanese gardens, incidentally); and the central landscaped mountain was topped by not trees, but earth-moving equipment. Not so pretty. Still, Dr. Martin and I had a fine day, and made it back with some decent photos just in time to hop on the bus to the airport, safely installing the intrepid Dr. Martin on his parachute plane to Mt. Fuji. Sugoi!