Okinawa is the last place I visited in Japan before flying back to the UK, and therefore the freshest to write about, which is why I have chosen it as my first Japan blog.

It is the biggest and most populated of the Ryukyu Islands, half way between mainland Japan and Taiwan in the East China Sea, and is home to Japan’s most critical American military base. Okinawa is quite different to mainland Japan, and wasn’t altogether what I expected…

I was travelling from Osaka city with two companions from the previous season, Taylor and Mic, and after several weeks of backpacking, all three of us were ready to sit on a sunny beach on a tropical island and relax. We’d planned our routes and times thoroughly, and were feeling pretty confident. Here, it is probably important to note that Osaka has two international airports, and they are nowhere near each other. Kansai Airport is where you’d likely catch a flight to Okinawa from, while Osaka International is the one Google Maps will default to, if you’re not quite specific enough… We went to the wrong airport.

A hair raising, hour-long taxi ride later, (worth more than the cost of our flight), we arrived at the RIGHT airport, about 3 minutes too late. The budget airline were able to put us on the next available flight, which was roughly nine hours later. So our first day in sunny Okinawa was spent in Kansai Airport’s domestic terminal. Not ideal.

Fortunately, nothing went wrong with our flight. The runway staff finished loading the luggage hold, stood in a line beside the plane, and bowed in unison, waving us off in true Japanese fashion as we taxied to take-off. Our flight took about 2 hours, with stunning in-flight views of the sunset, before descending over the twilit islands of Ryukyu. Our plan was to catch the bus into Naha city, near to where our pre-booked Air bnb was located. However, we’d arrived nearly 10 hours later than expected, and the island’s public transport isn’t very forgiving… We’d missed the last bus to Naha by minutes, and had already spent half a week’s budget on taxis that day, so, with a heavy sigh and some uncertain giggling, we adjusted our backpacks and began the two hour trek beneath the stars into the city.

At least it wasn’t raining. In fact, the temperature was noticeably warmer than mainland Japan, and despite the heavy luggage and worn out bodies, the walk was quite pleasant. We eventually reached our Air bnb, (via a supermarket for some instant noodles) and after a fairly disappointing shower, and an even more disappointing “instant” dinner, (which required the miniature kettle to be refilled three times), it was time to call it a day. Taylor went to close the sliding doors dividing the rooms, and found that only one door moved, sliding uselessly in the middle of the large door frame. He peered through the wide open gap, and let out a slightly maniacal laugh.

“That’s not ideal,” Mic said.

~ Kokusaidori Street ~

Morning came with the sound of birds twittering in the trees, and the shush of traffic a couple of blocks away. There was a bit of blue in the sky, and it was bright and warm. We drank the free coffee provided by the Air bnb, and took off down the road to the main international strip, about 10 minutes away on foot.

Kokusaidori Street – noise; both visual and audio – sales men and women attempt to catch your attention at every shop entrance, ornamental dragons in multi-coloured pairs line the displays in all shapes and sizes. Novelty toys, mugs, T-shirts, and generic holiday paraphernalia fill your peripherals as far as the eye can see. Enormous jars of habu sake, (rattle snakes drowned in Japanese liquor) stand in stacks, going for 400,000 yen a pop, the snakes inside hissing silently at by-passers. Fiberglass fronted restaurants boast of rare delicacies; puffa fish gawp out from tanks. We even saw a very small tank outside a seafood restaurant, with a live turtle in it – I quickly walked on and tried not to ask too many questions.

Following the street up, we turned off beneath the canopied Heiwa dori Street, through a network of arcades and alleys lined with street sellers, leading into the wonders of Makishi Market, where Okinawa’s strangest delicacies can be found. We stumbled upon the seafood hall by meer accident, filled with stalls and restaurants of all kinds. A grid of long tables laid out like an enormous canteen, played host to hungry punters, while lobster, squid, fresh fish, shellfish, everything you could imagine, was served on platters shaped like small boats!

At the intersection marking the end of Kokusaidori Street, we discovered an underground food hall in the basement level of the Ryubo building. We browsed the deli counters, bakeries, fish mongers, and enjoyed a varied lunch, accompanied by special blend coffee, and topped off with some delicious Japanese beer from the world craft beer counter. Happily satisfied after a good feed, we headed back outside, eyes directed at the sky in hope of beach weather! Unfortunately it was windy and grey, (though we had no idea what was in store for us) so we continued to browse Kokusaidori street, soaking up the bustling atmosphere with a local ‘Orion’ beer in hand from one of the many Lawson’s convenience stores.

~ Shisa Dogs ~

These goofy looking statues are everywhere, bearing similarities to Chinese Dragons, they are somewhere between a lion and a dog, and these are the little trinkets that fill every souvenir shop. Shisa Dogs are a Ryukyuan tradition from Okinawan folklore, believed to protect places from evil, and are often seen on rooftops, or guarding the entrance to most buildings. They always come in pairs; the right-hand Shisa Dog has its mouth open to ward off evil spirits, while the left-hand one’s mouth is closed to keep good spirits in. Often the pairs have cheeky facial expressions, and are depicted to be cheerful and amusing, sometimes painted in vibrant colours, reminding me of Disney’s ‘Stitch.’ The Shisa Dogs were one of my favourite things about Okinawa, giving the place a little touch of character.

~ Naha Beach ~

Advertised up and down the main strip as one of Naha’s hot-spots, it was quite amusing how unspectacular it was when we arrived! However, despite the small radius of beach, surrounded by concrete walls, and the noisy highway bridge crossing the water, the sand is clean and white, and the water is crystal clear. A sectioned off lido protects swimmers from box jellyfish, and a lifeguard patrols the beach. Trees fill the park behind, where dozens of stray cats frolic in the grass, prowling on picnics. The facilities also include toilets, showers, and even a hire shop for all your seaside needs, from parasols to inflatable tyres. Apart from sunshine, what more can you really ask for?

For dinner we found a pub serving Taco Rice – an Okinawan dish coining taco filling, and Japanese rice. Finished with a big dollop of salsa, it is a blander version of chilli con carne; a sort of Japanese/American compromise, washed down with a refreshing glass of Orion.

The night took us to a penthouse bar, where we couldn’t figure out what language to order our drinks in. With the only other customers being American, and the bar girl responding to my broken Japanese in English, I felt like a proper tourist! The boys smashed out a game of Foos ball, I destroyed a game of jenga way too early on, and we all found out the hard way that you should never strawpedo Guinness!

~ The American Village ~

It’s super easy to hire a car, as long as you have your international driver’s license, passport, and a better sense of direction than us. We went to the airport on the monorail – which loops Naha city on a regular basis throughout the day time – to find the best selection of car hire. After walking around the terminal, looking in all the wrong places, we couldn’t for the life of us find a car hire desk! Of course, it was really easy, slap bang in the middle, impossible to miss, and once we got there, we simply picked our price range, chose our insurance policy, and hopped on a shuttle to the depot. After a quick exchange of details and money, we were given our car – a little white cube on wheels. These little Japanese cars don’t have much of a kick, and the top speed limit in Okinawa is 60kmph, which makes driving very economical and cheap. As there are no trains around the island, and buses can be irregular and expensive, hiring a car is definitely the best value for money.

Heading north, we joined the highway out of the city. The landscape rose and fell, every inch littered with white and grey tower blocks, as though several boxes of starwars lego had been emptied across the land. As we approached the American Village, fast food restaurants began to pop up by the dozen alongside the highway; McDonalds, KFC, Dominoes, Denny’s, and so on and so forth. Pulling up in the village, it was like stepping out into one of those replica towns at Disney World – each building with a brightly painted facade, and palm trees spaced neatly between perfect paving slabs.

Making a bee line for coffee, we entered an arcade of cafes and restaurants along the waterfront promenade. We were welcomed at the door and shown to our seats in American fashion, by a smiley, English speaking waitress, where we enjoyed perfectly rosetta’d lattes, watching the moody weather roll in off the East China Sea, and quietly wondering whether we were supposed to leave a tip, or if like the rest of Japan, it was considered rude…

The village is a jumble of American style burger shops, cafes, and tack shops selling American souvenirs. There is a ferris wheel on top of a building filled with arcades and novelty shops. White sand bays surround the village, where we dipped our feet in the warm water beneath an ominous black sky.

Driving out of the American Village, we passed ‘Round One’ – a chain of indoor arcades and sports activities. An entire level is packed with arcade machines, pinging and popping and singing, lights flashing, enormous cuddly Pokémon willing you to defeat the impossible and win them! We decided to stick with the day’s American theme, and played ten pin bowling. Not until we’d begun our game did we realise we were supposed to hire bowling shoes from a vending machine. Yes, a vending machine! Oh well, that saved a thousand yen – Gaijin card well played… Oops!

~ Island Hopping ~

There are tonnes of little islands off the coast of Okinawa that you can take day trips to via ferry or plane, and they are said to be stunning. Unfortunately, we were on a budget, and the weather forecast was looking a bit temperamental – the ferries are known to stop running if there are any signs of bad weather. So for fear of being trapped on a desert island in a storm with no money, (and the way our luck was going, the chances were high) we made a mutual decision to go and explore some closer islands, accessible by bridge.

We headed north-west, the sun behind us, and eventually came to countryside! The concrete jungle fizzled out, and we could see the sparkling ocean ahead, our hopes alive for finally getting our tropical island swim! We even stopped at a Lawson’s and got a picnic for our glorious beach day, and could already smell the salty air and sun cream in anticipation.

Crossing our first bridge onto the tiny Yabuchi Island in the Uruma district, the road narrowed into a winding dirt track, leading seemingly to a dead end. Parking up, we continued on foot, and just through the trees we found the entrance to Janeh Cave. 6500 year old arrow heads made of shell were excavated here in 1960, along with claw-shaped pottery. These finds suggested that sea routes between Southern China and the islands were extensive much earlier than first thought.

We entered the cave, stalactites looming down on us; fossils jutting out of the rock. You can see gaping squares in the ground, strewn with tarpaulin, where archaeologists have scarred the ancient rock. Deeper into the cave and the temperature dropped. Cool moisture clung to my skin, and that eerie feeling came over that makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. We tried to hold our ground, egging each other on to peek around the next pitch-black corner, but it got too narrow; the shadows too surreal, and so we went back to the light.

Pretty coves surround Yabuchi island, with volcanic rock formations jutting out the edges of the turquoise sea, where bridges stretch off in different directions. Though it was beautiful, the spikey rock made the water inaccessible.

Then, all of a sudden, it was raining. Fine, wet rain, which had the three of us sheltering under an arch of rock, rolling our eyes. Certainly not ideal. We ran back to the car, and searching for a rainbow as the sun burned through again, we made our way to the next island.

A long bridge takes you to Henza island, which is mostly industrial land, belonging to the Idetsu oil company. Henza leads on to Miyagi and Ikei, which are home to many tourist beaches, the first being Tonnaha Beach, in the north-most cove of Miyagi Island. A track leads down to a seawall, beyond which is more white sand and clear sea, decorated with coral and picturesque rocks. We watched hermit crabs scurry about on the sand, playing peek-a-boo from their colourful shells. An oil rig sits off-shore of Tonnaha Beach, obscuring the silhouette of Okinawa main island across the sea in the distance.

Another bridge and another beach – Ikei Beach – which we had to access through a building. A lady came out and welcomed us, asking for 500 yen per person to enter the beach… many of the tourist beaches in Okinawa are pay-on-entry; a concept we couldn’t get our heads around, growing up with the freedom of having beaches on our doorsteps. The sky wasn’t making any promises, and it was beginning to drizzle, so onwards we went! Every beach on Ikei Island was asking for money just to enter, and with the weather on the turn again, and most of our picnic already eaten, Mic suggested finding a seaside coffee shop and watching the rain.

On our drive around the islands, we saw many impressive tombs, unlike the burial sites in mainland Japan. Often randomly placed, like on the edge of a crop field, or next to a convenience store, they are grand and haunting. ‘Haka’ tombs are unique to Okinawa, though their origins have been traced back to ancient Southern China; designed to be like houses for the departed, sometimes we’d see an enormous cluster of tombs, where an entire family is laid to rest, little offerings like bundles of herbs or flowers laid down at their doors.

The final island – Hamahiga – linked off the south of Henza Island, had so much potential, had we been there a month or two later. The coffee shop we’d aimed for was still closed for the down season, and the only other people we saw were a group of workmen, who all stopped and waved enthusiastically as though they hadn’t seen anyone for days either! At the end of the island we came across a salt factory, with a beautiful hidden bay beyond. We even considered going for a swim in the rain, but agreed that we’d only be doing it for the sake of it, so, feeling quite fed up, we hopped back in the car and drove back towards Lawson’s for a cold coffee out of the chiller and wifi.

Then the monsoon came. It hammered the windscreen so we could no longer hear the music. The wipers flailed manically, but couldn’t clear the view. Traffic had slowed down significantly, the road spray preventing anyone from seeing the vehicle in front, or the road for that matter. Tyre-deep flash floods appeared from nowhere, and all vision was a wet, monochrome blur. Beach day was cancelled.

We took ourselves back to Naha, where we waited for the rain to ease off before going to a local ramen restaurant for dinner, but by the time we’d finished eating, the storm was back with a vengeance. Floor-length skirts and flip-flops in ankle-deep water is definitely not ideal, I was trying to say beneath the drumming on my umbrella, while cars splashed by causing mini tsunamis. It was time to go back to the apartment and drink wine, while the crack of forked lightning echoed across the night sky outside.

~ Zanpa Beach & Maeda Point ~

Morning began late, with a heavy head from a glass too-many of wine, but the sun was shining fresh after last night’s storm, and I was feeling like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. We were on the road to Cape Zanpa, and Maeda Point – I volunteered not to drive, so Mic took the wheel while Taylor and I kept ourselves quiet with a cheeky McDonalds, like two happy children. We passed The American Village around halfway, and continued up the coast, past large American bases; their big, white bungalows fenced in with barbed wire. At first, we continued past Zanpa Beach, assuming it was another pay-to-enter resort, and found ourselves in the neighbouring bay, looking at an array of coral reef formations, like the foundations of ancient building remains.

Mic made the journey across the reef to test the water, and in the meantime, Taylor and I sussed out Zanpa Beach, realising that we could access it easily without any sign of having to pay. So there we went. The grasslands above the beach were laden with public BBQs, probably thriving with off-duty military men and their families in the summer months. The beach itself hosted a number of water activities – you could hire paddle boards, kayaks, jet skis; have a go at tubing or even try one of their jet packs. It had a swimming lido, as most tourist beaches do, to protect from dangerous jelly fish, and the lifeguard sat on his plinth, observing under blue skies. It seemed too good to be true – the sun was gleaming down; the sand was hot and the sea was cool. Towels laid out ready, the three of us ran into the ocean, (you can almost hear the slow-running music playing in the background) and we swam and floated about, while fish darted about our legs. Drying in the sun, I laid on my towel, hangover washed away by the ocean, and finally felt like I was on holiday. It was ideal!

Once dry and crispy from the sun, we got back in the car and made a point of going to Maeda Point… (sorry). Cape Maeda was exactly what we’d been looking for, with quirky little coffee shops and authentic restaurants. There were little beach-town houses rather than tower blocks, and pretty, natural bays with no expensive resorts or lines of parasols. Following Mic’s satnav instructions, I drove along a track to a car park, where we got out and followed a line of scuba divers down the footpath to Maeda Point. A viewing podium leered on the edge of the cliff, protected by two Shisa Dogs, looking out onto a most stunning cove, smothered in reef.

Below, groups of divers and snorkelers explored the sea life at the water-logged entrance to the renown Blue Cave. I think the three of us could have stayed there all day, but the hire car had to be back at the depot by 5pm, so we made our way reluctantly back to the city.

Dinner was a treat. It was Taylor’s last night in Japan, and he chose Okinawan seafood down in Heiwa dori Street market. We went for some of the tamer dishes on the menu, (as opposed to boiled fish eyes and tuna gizzards) which were freshly and expertly prepared to order within the shop. I was pleasantly surprised, tasting the rubbery squid tentacle, salmon sashimi, and tasty tempura tuna, and we ended up getting seconds of the delicious grilled tuna! That was definitely worth making our wallets lighter.

The remainder of my time in Okinawa was mostly reserved for packing, and after bidding Taylor farewell, we prepared for our individual onward journeys. Mic and I shared a last meal on the island, at one of the Okinawan restaurants along Kokusaidori Street, where we tasted some classic local produce. It is very similar to Japanese food, but with an island twist – egg and tofu with bitter melon – a kind of peppery celery that looks like a snozzcumber, but adds a lot of flavour and crunch to a dish. We had Okinawan dry soba, which was enriched with chicken and vegetables, and a side of pork fat potatoes.

Despite many ‘not ideal’ moments, Okinawa was an enjoyable experience – certainly different, and quite amusing in hindsight! If I found myself there again, I would hire a car from start to end, and consider staying in a few different locations, leaving space to go to some of the other off-shore islands… And stock up on Orion beer for when the monsoons roll in!