Okinawa - Naha to Nago

Okinawa tastes of ice cold 'Orion B', of satiating Awamori roku, of prickly goya cucumber, of juicy green skiikwaasaa, of sweet purple benimo. The soundtrack to everywhere is a captivating Sanshin, the beat of a drum, the melodic chant of locals.   
Snaking a line from Naha to Nago, past the long U.S bases we see shisa lion-dragons, we feast on miniature tacos, we visit ingenious kilns and pottery workshops.

Nago is early Obon. Nago is Eisa dances at dusk. It's waking from a tatami hut and padding to a cove for a pre-breakfast swim. Nago is the generosity of new friends, of secret snorkelling spots, of burning sun and shady tropical trees and the cooling taste of love.

Hanabi

Hanabi at Ohori Koen was a yukata catwalk,

a 90 minute spectacular firework symphony, 

a mouth tingling o-bento feast,  

an extended family pond side picnic,

a breathtaking light hypnosis.

Yamakasa

July in Fukuoka means

Hakata Gion Yamakasa. 

4:59am July 15th. 

Thousands of men in loincloths from 

seven local districts carry 

one ton floats through 

the dawn break streets of the city.

A 750 year old elegant tradition.

Bare bottoms, bear strength.

Cooling water, racing, chanting.

Ropes, shoulders, jikatabi.