Karatsu Kunchi festival - Cultural Day

November 3 Cultural Day throughout Japan
After Gratie coffee and egg pizza plus chewy cranberry bun, we walked to the main bus terminal where we bought tickets to Karatsu, miraculously catching a bus at the gate 32, the closest one, due to leave in less than 10 minutes. Leaving Fukuoka, we passed its enormous suspension bridge, beaches, harbors along the water. Apartment buildings gave way to traditional Japanese houses set amongst rice paddies, perfectly rectangular vegetable farm lots, and greenhouses.
Reaching Karatsu in about 70 minutes, we descended into a crowded city where the sound of drums drew us towards nearby narrow streets where huge floats were being drawn by long ropes, children at the front end, adult men closer to the floats themselves. At the corner the float suddenly swung around at a right angle.
After watching a half dozen floats pulled by teams in identically colored traditional garb (hapi coats with leggings and zori sandals), we let the crowd carry us down the street.... past an amazing array of food stalls and souvenirs for sale. Much of the crowd was surging into the approach to the temple. We skirted around side streets and were deciphering a poster in Japanese about the festival's schedule when a young woman approached us and led us to the beach. She was there for the festiva lwith her parents, all from Tendai. When we found the floats, they were arriving in a crowded, sandy square, swinging violently around yet another corner to be lined up 7 facing 7. Children were emerging from inside the floats as well as climbing on them to be photographed by parents. Men in traditional garb who had been pulling the floats were beating the drums or climbing to the highest point on the floats like king of the castle.
Officially uniformed police controlling the crowd smiled but obliged when I asked about where were toilets. We found port-a-potties with 2 stalls for women, each with a door, plus an open stall with a urinal for men and a fourth stall for hand washing. Sitting in the shade, we made a lunch, and had a rest, with trail mix, chocolate and water.
Rejoining the crowd, many sitting on the curb waiting for the afternoon parade of the 14 floats back to their owner shops, we made our way to the train station and information booth where an English speaking staffperson answered our questions about Karatsu pottery. Her instructions sent us down streets to the canal, across it by bridge and along a narrow residential road until we emerged on a busy street full of partytime pachinko (slot machine/pinball) parlors and neon funhouses with names like “Lucky Day.”
On the corner was a pottery gallery of extremely expensive works by the most famous potter of the region, a glorious collection of tea ceremony cups, sake vessels, flower vases --- irregular shapes, earthy surfaces, glazes of infinite variations – the kind of vessel you turn around and around, admiring every side. The elegant, black clad woman bid us two scruffy foreigners welcome, pointed out some aspects of the pottery and graciously allowed me to make some photos.
Returning along the lane, where painted tiles were set among the brick cobblestones, we explored the path veering off, a narrow path into a compact neighborhood of tranquil, traditional Japanese homes and gardens, small and perfect, with trained pine trees, hanging white blossoms, climbing morning glory flowers.... and huge golden striped spiders in webs against the sky... blessed peace and quiet after the noise and crowds of the festival.
Back at the canal, we watched two cranes fishing in the shallow water, watched the small fish glint in the sun as they turned, flashing their bright bellies. Osprey and buzzards soared overhead on the wind currents.
We queued for the 5:30pm bus and road into darkness back to Fukuoka's lights - multicolored in the night. Walked from the bus station to the Umauma ramen shop where we sat at the counter having beer, pork ramen and fried gwazu..all delicious, especially the broth which was rich with marrow flavor. The black clad young men frying gwazu, dishing up the ramen, and washing dishes got a kick out of our enjoyment and our attempts at Japanese, just as we were entertained watching their busy rapid-fire cooking and washing up.
We walked back, under the train track, colorful graffiti on the tunnel walls and to the hostel, another marvelous adventure of a day.

Karatsu Kunchi festival - Cultural Day

Karatsu, Japan