Anna Matsushita

  It was about 30 years ago. I was waiting for my plane at the Heathrow airport.   I was on the way back to Japan after studying at a university in UK for a year. The final exam date was not out until last minutes, and it was difficult to fix the day I leave the country.   I booked the seat only 3 days before the flight. As soon as the exams are over, I sent out my text books and belongings from my college room, said goodbye to my friends, and headed for London.   It was slightly late in the afternoon when I arrived at Euston station. I went straight to a youth hostel in city centre, whic had a good access to Piccadilly line which has direct connection to the Heathrow airport.   I slept soundly, and got up early to catch the underground bound for the airport.   After check in, I sat at one of bench in airport lobby, waiting for boarding announcement.   Then, there came a group of soldiers. They were walking in a line, wearing khaki army outfit. When they got c

 One winter, my family and I embarked on a journey to the Canary Islands, situated off the coast of North Africa, to celebrate the year-end holidays. These islands, a bit farther south than the Mediterranean, are renowned for their numerous volcanoes. My destination was one of the islands in the archipelago, Lanzarote. It's a Spanish territory where the predominant language is, unsurprisingly, Spanish. Upon landing at the airport and traversing the island by bus, I beheld many curious sights. I noticed peculiar circular enclosures made of stone, with greenery growing in sunken centers. Our guide explained that these were vineyards. The island, formed from volcanic ash, experiences strong winds, making it challenging to cultivate taller crops. Thus, they construct enclosures with rocks to shield against the wind, creating depressions in the center where grapevines thrive. That day, our group of nearly thirty individuals was meticulously led around by our guide, showcasing variou

 In my early years, I resided in the Tohoku region of Japan. Near the housing complex nestled in the mountains, there was a forest where various fruits grew.   Among them, the mountain grapes held a special fascination for my young heart. Simply put, they looked delicious. Despite being warned by adults never to eat them, they seemed even more tempting.   During that time, I heard a folktale called "Saru-zake" (Monkey's Wine). It narrated a story of a monkey living in the mountains who hid the mountain grapes he had gathered in a tree hollow. Over time, it miraculously turned into wine. A woodcutter who discovered it tasted the wine, found it incredibly delicious, drank too much, and ended up drunk—such was the essence of the story, if I recall correctly.   This wine made from mountain grapes (Vitis coignetiae) is considered one of Japan's oldest alcoholic beverages archaeologically. Its origins can be traced back to the Jomon period, approximately 10,000

  During a business trip to Germany one autumn, my journey led me to the quaint town of Trier, situated to the west of the country, after arriving at the airport. Trier, with its ancient history rooted in the Roman Empire, boasts UNESCO-listed treasures like the Porta Nigra (Black Gate) and the ruins of the Roman Forum. The town exudes the medieval charm of Germany, featuring a central square with cobblestones and vibrant buildings encircling a well-like structure. Choosing a newly opened hotel near the central square as my accommodation, I experienced an unexpected delight during dinner at the hotel's restaurant. As a gesture of hospitality for visitors from Japan, the hotel staff offered us a German after-dinner spirit known as Schnapps. Housed in a pale bottle, this transparent elixir carried the name Schnapps. The staff explained, "It's a potent drink, so enjoy it in small glasses. We have various flavors, including fruit-infused Schnapps. What would you prefer?"

  A tale from the distant past unfolds when a colleague from the travel agency bid us farewell, prompting the team to gather for a celebratory meal. Opting for the favorite Spanish cuisine of the departing comrade, our second-year colleagues discovered a delightful eatery nearby in Tokyo.   Run by a Spaniard, the restaurant was conveniently close to the office, and on that day, they had arranged a private room for our group. As we indulged in classic paella and fine wines, the jovial atmosphere escalated, and the affable owner inquired if we desired anything more. It was then that someone exclaimed, "We'd love some sangria!"   The proprietor's momentary hesitation upon hearing this request left me a lasting impression. Returning from the kitchen, the owner presented us with three large pitchers of sangria. Brimming with oranges and other fruits, this chilled concoction was a refreshing delight for our somewhat inebriated selves.   However, the lingering ex

Many years ago, during my stay in the UK, I was aware that pubs offered cidre, known as "cider" in English. However, for some reason, my British acquaintances strongly discouraged me from ordering apple cider. They claimed it was not something young people should drink, that it wouldn't suit Japanese taste buds, and that Japanese people were not accustomed to strong alcohol, which they believed apple cider to be. Their opinions, particularly the insistence that "it doesn't suit Japanese palates," left me puzzled. Despite their claimed familiarity with Japan, it seemed they were determined to prevent me from trying apple cider. Looking back, I suspect they may have had a negative experience recommending it to a Japanese person in the past, perhaps to avoid disappointing me. After several decades, I finally had the opportunity to savor British-made apple cider. A Tokyo-based restaurant had a menu featuring about eight types of apple cider. Recalling my past en

On a family trip to Scotland many years ago, we found ourselves venturing into the crisp embrace of the Scottish Highlands. Despite the late-August timing, the weather was already chilly, rendering our summer attire woefully inadequate.   Our journey commenced in Edinburgh, and after some sightseeing, we boarded a train to the vicinity of Inverness, where a recently established hotel awaited our arrival. The manager, a gracious woman, went above and beyond, sharing a plethora of information about the hotel's offerings from our arrival to settling into our rooms. Eager to shake off the travel stiffness after the train journey to Inverness, we took a refreshing dip in the hotel's pool.   Arriving at dinner time, we were led to the hotel's restaurant where a three-course meal awaited us. The manager continued her attentive service, highlighting the freshness of the salad vegetables harvested that very morning from a nearby farm.   As the main course was served, our