Tottori is written up in the Lonely Planet as the most uninteresting prefecture in all of West Japan. I wasn't bothered, I was keen to see Phaedra again and to do little else. I arrived on a dull Tuesday afternoon but Phaedra's beaming smile didn't disappoint. The city appeared like a scaled down version of Hiroshima but the 6 minute train ride to her aparto in the burbs clarified that this was indeed countryside and I was pleased. I rose from a groggy nap to meet Tim, thick in Kiwi tones and as warm (and tall) as Grace had described him. I wasn't much for festivites but Rachelle's birthday was upon us and I figured laughter would be the perfect soulfood.

Cities in Japan look much the same - urbanised sprawling concrete metropolises lacking in creativity and appeal. Downtown Tottori fitted the bill but the beer garden, perched high on a department store rooftop gave way to a 270 degree wall of mountainside splender- and a wind that hit you smack in the face. This was something the guide books did warn about. The food and lolly-watered chu-highs were lousy but the the company was infectious, and so was the laughter. Ed, a colleague of Phae and Rachelle's at Tottori University (and a modern day Friar-Tuck personified) played mediator and kind host amongst three raucous Aussie lads who'd settled in Tottori some years earlier. Their Japanese wives remained still and sweet at the other end of the table as plastic plates with sushi scrapes flew about in the wind. It was madness, and entirely entertaining from start to finish. The night ended with 6 of us, 2 in our gathering being big burly rugby lads, all crammed into Ed's 2 door mini-Mitsubitshi. I haven't laughed that much in a long while.

Tottori is also famous for it's 16km long rolling sand dune. Designated a national monument, it was bound to be littered with Nikon-totting tourists, but on the day I went, I found it bathed in magnificent sunshine and relatively crowd-free, perhaps because of the 10 knot wind that was blowing in off the coast. I was curious to see if the Lawrence of Arabia camel rides (bizarre as it sounds) were still operating, and sure enough they were. All for the bargin price of 3,000yen (AUS$44.00) per 5 minute hump-ride, and that was without billowing Arabian custome or signature photogragh!! I circled about for a candid photo and was politely told to buggar off, so I decided upon climbing the sand slope. Tough work in the gail but well worth the trek, it's enormity swallowed me up and carried me off in the wind.

I'd come to Tottori set on driving to Amanohasidate, but in my haste to pack a bag, I left my International Drivers Licence in the drawer. Tim renting the car on our behalf seemed the only option, and he was open to the idea, despite the risk of me being pulled over without a licence, or worse still, being embrawled in a car accident fiasco without insurance. We took a bet and all agreed we'd chance it. Amanohasidate (try saying that after 6 sake's) is 90kms to the east along a 3 penninsulas, accessed best by a traversing coastal road that's straight out of a woodblock print. 90kms doesn't seem that far but limited to a 50km speed limit on single-lane coast-hugging roads makes the journey a modest 4.5 hours. Phae cautioned me about this but with my determined streak and happless optimism I figured we could make it, enjoy all the sightseeing we'd planned, and still have the car back to the rental company by 8pm.

The view from the coastal road was truely magnificant - comparable to The Amalfi Coast in southern Italy. I was awestruck. We stopped at a roadside cranny and jumped out to scamper across the rocks that opened onto a sea of sublime aqua-blue, it was magical. Something the guide books also neglected to mention was how beautiful the Japan Sea is but I was grateful because it meant we could enjoy this heaven in relative peace. We stopped often, once in a seaside hamlet where old ladies were drying seaweed on racks in the sun. They smiled affectionately and posed comfortably for the cameras. We whizzed through Kinosaki, a spot well dotted on the toursit map for it's willow-lined canals and abundant hot springs, and drove onto Amanohasidate. We needn't have worried about maps, the traffic bottleneck signposted the way to the "Bridge of Heaven", the reason Amanohasidate has been frequented for centuries. This place, located in a cut-off corner of the Japan Sea coast, is rated as one of three top scenic views in Japan. How could we possibly pass that up? Figuring we had 60 minutes in which to stroll, sightsee and take shots, I made a mad dash for a car park and jumped out with all the enthusiasm of a 6 year old child. Phae had been here before but happily obliged us saying the view from the hill was best. We parted; Phae headed off for a walk across the 3.6km sandspit and Rachelle and I raced up to the cable car eager to see the meandering sand ribbon lined with pine trees that slinks its way from one side of the bay to the other.

Queues are ever present in Japan and this place was no exception. Rachelle and I raced for the shortest line and after a holding pattern of 30 minutes, we reached the top. The guide books prepared us for how best to view the sandspit. So, once there I did what all self respecting Japanese do - I abandoned all concern about appearing silly and took in the view with my head planted firmly in-betwen my legs! What a gimmick!!! The sandspit is said to look like its floating in mid air but I couldn't make it out. Crestfallen, I looked about for Rachelle and together we shunted back down the hill, eager to meet Phae who was probably pacing by the car - we were 40 minutes over schedule. From there, we made a rash decision to see Ine, a charming fishing hamlet 16kms north up the peninsula and got there, without injury and in good time. What makes it so quaint (what little we saw of it in the 7 minutes we had allowed!!) is that the wooden houses perch over the water, the first floor housing the family fishing boat. It was sweet but we were all getting nervous about the time. We figured I had the best Japanese between us (wrong!) so I agreed to call the car hire company and see if we could return the car in the morning. What followed was a series of pained expressions, misunderstandings and futile attempts at getting my point across. With just over 3 hours left on the clock, our only option was to high-tail it back to Tottori and that's exaclty what I did - with reckless abandonment for all speed signs. The girls and I were impressed, we made it, just over time but back in one piece and content after an amazing day on the road.

A friend had told me that a stay in Tottori wouldn't be complete without a visit to Misasa and it's famed hillside temple. Who was I to argue - besides, any mention of a temple and I'm there. So come Sunday, on the eve of my departure we headed off, this time with Tim in toe. All the rental cars were out so we figured on public transport (which in the north runs less frequently and shock horror, a little late). I had a rough idea where it was but on a Sunday and on Japan's busiest holiday no buses were running and we were stuck. The JR travel office was of little help so we decided on a taxi and brokered a deal for 1,000 yen a piece, with no extra fee charged if the fare ran over. Our driver was sweet, eager to give us a guided tour and happy to drop us off at the base of the mountain, even getting out to point out the temple, which was positioned into the cliff face some 500 meters up.

The weather was sublime, uncharacteristically sunny for Tottori. After a hearty meal of curray-riceu we began our trek. I was eager to set off, the surroundings were so pretty. The first temple was set on a flat amoungst wooded pines and masses of flowering rhoderdendrums. Resting by the shade of the temple, I spied my old Japanese teacher. Never was I happier to see her; the monk at the entrance to the "walk" refused my entrance saying I'd worn the wrong footwear. Not about to be sent away, I raced back to where we'd just farewell and dragged her back suggesting she `persuade` him. With some gentle conjolling, he relented and relieved, we set off, stick in hand and shash round our middles. The walk itself is not exactly a walk, it' more like a free-for all up tree roots and craggy rocks and at one point, up 90 degree rock faces using ropes and ties. The chequered colours of the fresh green mountain sides represented something of a patchwork quilt, it was stunning. Once at the top, past a huge bronzed bell and 2 miniture shrines, Mitokusan levitated before us. The small muddy track was burstling with relieved climbers and a group of very genki Chinese students all happy to pose for photos with us. I say levitated because the temple juts out of the rock face, appearing to float in mid-air (unlike the famed Bridge to Heaven!). No one quite seems to know how it was constructed 700 years ago or by whom, but it's something of a miracle and to behold.

Going down wasn't easy, especially with jelly legs and few hand-holds in sight but I was exhilerated. Mitokusan rates as one of my all-time favourite adventures in Japan. We rested at the bottom with green-tea refils and sembei, or rice cracker cakes soaked in soy sauce - delish! Our next challenge was figuring out how we'd get back to the station given no buses or taxis were operating. We decided to split up and bum rides back into town. As luck would have it, at the precise moment I jokingly flipped out my thumb a BMW cruised by and ...........stopped!!! It was leather-seated luxury all the way back to town.

Content and weary I took the evening bus back to Hiroshima, eagerly planning when my return visit would be.