adekun’s japan blog

I was going to post about how once we arrive somewhere it starts to rain. Only upon leaving does the sun appear. The idea struck me that we could offer ourselves up to the highest international bidder for an all expenses paid stay, perhaps drought hit Australia?
Reading the news over the past few days, the idea has been washed away. The forecast in the UK looks to have improved, but we are set to arrive this evening. After a week there, we return to Japan where I will resume posting.

On a few occasions, we have been able to give Kento an al fresco bath. Over the past month he is become more and more investigative and mobile. Sometimes a little too audacious, here snorkelling before learning to swim.

If he’s not staring at something, contemplating, he’s trying to eat it. Eyebrows and ears are mauled whilst dribble is drizzled on all comers.

Miho sent a few more photos of the plot, taken the past weekend. The rainy season is upon the region, which has eased my concerns about watering. Since it has been awhile, the first tomatoes to redden got picked. Next time, a few will get left behind to encourage the others to ripen.

Some giant Aomori garlic next to some of the larger regular stuff, most of which I hope to replant.

Sweetcorn rising up, the silks and ears are beginning to form.

More of a hamlet really, but with enough Pineau for an established city. Before I get carried away on the subject of Pineau, as I did drinking the stuff, the fête is held once a year. The majority of the locals make an appearance. From the proceeds of the winter hunt, a wild boar is taken from the deep freeze and spit roasted.

Serge amongst others, carving - and yes, that is his hand he is pretending to cut off.

His more rational father Joseph, finishing off the boar in the bread oven. The rain had dampened the embers, but not peoples spirits. The bread for the event was cooked by a local baker in the oven earlier.

Cherry pie was served up, before games of Pétanque and darts.

Under the shadow of unsettled weather, we began our week in the Lot. After a day in and around St Cirq Lapopie, we travelled to the adjoining department to visit the medieval village of Conques. The road meandered along the Lot River, brimming and murky from the recent downpours. Passing a weir further upstream, the sediments flowed along the furthest bank fed by a tributary.

Although a point of contention, I insisted that I wanted to visit Rocamador when there was little cloud. Perhaps due to providence, the opportunity arose.

Later in the week we toured a Cahors AOC winery, followed by a candlelit dinner for four plus a baby. A tremendous storm passed over knocking out the power for a few hours. Having already closed the windows previously, I returned to fasten the shutters. It was like opening a pressure door on a flooded compartment. Aside from getting really soaked, the force of the wind was so intense it was a job to shut the windows. A couple of rainbows soon appeared.

Yesterday, we returned late to my parent’s cottage and another power cut.

We are about to leave to go south to the Lot region. Yesterday remained cloudy, but it did warm up considerably. The cows wandered up the adjoining field to seek shelter under the trees.

Although there will be another short hiatus, I received an update from Miho this morning. The rainy season has reached the island of Kyushu, having travelled north from Okinawa. I imagine this to take another week or two to reach the plot. The main reason for the message was to mention that the garlic and the rest of the onions had harvested!

I just downloaded another batch of photos from my helpful sister-in-law. The first was taken last Sunday. The clover around the tomatoes has since been thinned out and the red onions pulled.

Here some p-man, Japan’s popular pepper.

I am hesitant about giving the order to pull the garlic. As my minders are busy out working most hours, there is a good chance the odd week or two might pass and the heads end up splitting. I think this weekend it would be prudent to check several rather than the odd couple with a view to harvesting the lot?

There is quite a bit more yellowing to the leaves on a photo taken yesterday. It looks like most of the scapes got fried. Should be a little more blasé – I can always plant those past it?

As a postponed birthday cum welcoming gift, my parents bought me a 2004 Fitou Seigneurie d’Arse. What a lovely sentiment. I’m no Master of Wine, but this burly brew made a fine wine to wash away the drabness of the bleak afternoon.

Today I opened a more quaffable Morgon, which has done little to break the clouds. Cheese always gets mentioned as the ideal accessory. Yet I lack the audacity to immerse myself in the national cheeses. A couple of slabs of Cheddar wouldn’t go amiss.

In exchange for a few days work, my parents arranged a week’s stay at a Gîte in the nearby Vendée. Since the husband was recovering from a hernia operation, our hosts needed a little help preparing the grounds prior to the summer holiday rush.
It is boasted that the area enjoys the greatest number of sunshine hours along the Atlantic coast due to it’s own unique climate. Predictably, it rained most of the week. Along with another couple, my father and myself started the morning after we arrived. Grass cutting and painting a wall were off the menu. At least I did get to dig a footing. Most of the time was spent lifting a patio set upon a wash pit or something. Below is a more traditional lavage beside one of the walks we took - one of the many vegetables gardens directly behind.

On our final day, the weather had improved as we drove off to La Rochelle and onto Royan for a curry.