It’s just a 40 minute journey on my first train of the day to Yonanga, the nearest grown up railway station. The Manga train, or “Kitano Family Train” as it is officially known, departs about once every hour.

It takes me there in some style, that is as long as you like manga art. Inside the train the station announcements are pre recorded by Japanese children and sound very cute. The conductor walks up and down saying good morning to every passenger personally.

The train is covered in manga art throughout. Each carriage is different, and mine seems to be based on some sort of Japanese “Betty Boo” character.

 

 

 

 

To say I’m feeling pretty rough is an understatement. My muscles ache from constantly bracing against the roll and pitch of the ship in bed, my stomach aches from an overdose of Korean seafood, and my head hurts from dehydration and lack of sleep. I calculate that I have had about ten hours sleep since arriving in Vladivostok four days ago. Once again I get one of the crew to carry my big bag down the perilous gangplank (which he does on his head!) and at last I’m standing on Japanese soil.

Unlike in South Korea, the order of disembarkation here is Japanese first, “Foreigners” second, then thirdly Koreans. I have no idea why. There are only four Japanese, one Russian and six other Asian foreigners on the ship. Immigration and the Ebola screening goes well, but I’m singled out for special attention at customs.

The officers simply do not believe that I could be here on holiday. After all, what sort of tourist from Great Britain arrives in a place like Sakaiminato with a beard and lots of luggage in the middle of winter? We run through some basic questions using laminated cards translated from Japanese into English, then they start to search my luggage. They clearly haven’t found what they are looking for, so they decide to take me to a side room for a full search and ask me more about my smoking habits. I consider telling them that I’m good friends with Paul McCartney, but decide better of it.

My tin of Coleman’s English Mustard powder is singled out as a possible narcotic, but everything else seems to be fine apart from (rather bizarrely) a roll of sealable freezer bags I’m using to keep my food fresh. There are no questions about my Handpresso machine or my medical kit containing emergency opiate based pain killers and needles. I wonder if they think the freezer bags are to distribute my mustard powder on the street in wrap sized amounts?

As they are still not happy, they conduct a full body search, and this reveals 10040 Korean Wan (£6.42) that I have carefully concealed in my right trouser pocket. They clearly don’t believe my story, which I try and explain further. I discover that the magic words are “writing a book”, as when I say this they decide to release me straight away! It’s funny when you see this kind of stuff on TV “fly on the wall” programmes the suspect is always very nervous and aggressive. I have been the model of charm and good gaijin manners, so I feel a bit hard done by. Anyway, I’m in.

When I get to the terminal building the Korean tour groups are crowding the only exit and my bus to the railway station is leaving. The driver kindly stops and let’s me and my snow covered luggage into his immaculately clean bus to take me to the railway station. It’s deep snow outside and wheeled bags are no use here. Note to self – get an international patent for strap on luggage sledge runners.

Everything runs smoothly at the railway station and I convert my JR rail voucher into a pass which entitles me to a week’s travel in first class (known in Japan as Green Class) on most types of train. I manage also to make some reservations and sit down in the waiting room to ahead of the arrival of the “manga train”.

It’s no surprise that dried fish in all its forms is prevalent in much Korean cooking. Other than fish, pork seems to be the main source of meat. In case you are wondering, there is dog here to be eaten, but it does not seem to be a featured ingredient in every day restaurants. I did actually see a man selling dogs, kept in small cages on the back of his truck. To me meat is meat, but I have to say I felt sadder to see this than I thought that I would.

Our mid morning snack consisted of the phenomena that is the Korean “Pizza”. It’s not a pizza in the Western sense, but a fried buckwheat pancake containing kim chi and other vegetables. Explaining the process of making kim chi would take some time, but it’s basically the most important ingredient in Korean cooking, a fermented vegetable in a spicy sauce.

Time for a Korean BBQ for lunch. This consists of three different cuts of pork, self cooked and assembled at the table with the usual range of side dishes – lots of lettuce, chilli and garlic. It’s all to soon time to head down the the ferry terminal in the port.

It’s here that I have to say a sad farewell to the amazing Mr Taegeun Kim. He is heading off to his family having been on the road in Europe for over three months. I gave him my lucky Russian Railways pocket watch as a momento of his Trans-Siberian journey. It’s brought me nothing but good fortune, so I hope it brings him good luck to. Time to head back up the gang plank of the Eastern Dream..

Probably just as well I didn’t look at the shipping forecast. Although it’s a nice day in port, it’s immediately clear that the ship is going to be rolling badly tonight. The crew issue a warning (even in English) about walking around the ferry without holding on to something, and advise against going out on deck due to the high wind and waves. Fortunately before we sailed I have taken a quick inventory of the lifeboats and found the best looking one to head for in the event of an emergency – deck 3, port side..

I debate weather eating anything is a good idea given the sea conditions, but decide it’s better to have something to throw up if it comes to it, so I treat myself to a final Korean “pizza” in the bar. Apart from a few shouty people (I can’t work out why, they don’t seem drunk, just very loud) most of the passengers are pretty friendly. My journey is a real icebreaker and I’m soon enjoying a few farewell to Korea toasts of Makguli.

My last night at sea isn’t a good one. I contemplated changing the title of this post to “The Cruel Sea” but that would be over dramatic. The problem is part sea and part cabin, so a better description would be “The Cruel Cabin”. I should point out that it’s not the occupants who are cruel, they are all super well behaved. The problem is there is no ventilation, the temperature feels like the Congo, and the cabin moves badly in the roll and the swell. The ship has no stabilisation and a small sea is all that is needed to recreate something more epic in room 1203. At one point I throw my cards in and go to find a public space to sleep in but this has other problems – an icy wind from the gale, shouty passengers and poor security. The night is a long one and I almost get no sleep at all. It’s the last thing I need, as I have to be at my train best for the logistics of the day ahead.