Sydney: Won't you take me to Funky Town?

Newtown is no place for a Nana. That's "Nana" as in folk who have Nana tendencies such as being a little too fussy, verging on prudish or easily shocked. If you've ever been told to "stop being such a Nana" then don't do Newtown on your next trip to Sydney.

Newtown's community is a melting pot. There's lots of body piercing on lots of bodies; lots of incredibly black hair dye with matching lipstick and eye-shadow and that's not just on the females; and there's more than a few tresses and spikes of startling red or lurid green, too.

Newtown is definitely gay-friendly and Goth is so popular that several stores sell everything and anything in Goths' favourite colour of black.

The locals have a way with personal style that's cool, clever and funky - or downright frightful if you're a Nana.

It's colourful, unconventional and diverse. The main thoroughfare, King St, is four interesting kilometres covering an incredible diversity of interests.

There are more than 600 absolute one-off businesses, from body-piercers to tattooists and hair salons, to fashion and jewellery, homewares and toys.

Sydney's foodies call it "Eat Street" as it boasts more than 100 cafes, pubs and restaurants covering every possible ethnicity and food type.

It's also designerville, but without the snobbery and flash shop-frontage glitz of Sydney's hob-nob boutique shopping suburbs. Here you'll discover a reasonably priced fashion find of the century that you can bring back to New Zealand and be damn sure you won't it see on anyone else.

Newtown is just four train stops out of Sydney's frenetic underground station at the Town Hall to the inner-west suburbs where the pace slows dramatically.

Make haste by all means, but only to bag the best cafe table in the sun and enjoy the morning spoils from the oven while they're still warm and a copy of the daily newspaper before it's been wrinkled.

At 9.45 on a Friday morning, I was way too early for Newtown. Cafes were open, but it seems 10.30am to 11am is plenty early enough for local retailers.

On a sunny work-day morning, without the distraction of open shop doors, the old buildings shout history, mixed with a little funky retro, artistic bent and many decades of grime. In the 1800s, it was the first suburban shopping centre developed outside of Sydney's centre. The main street is the longest and most complete commercial precinct of Australia's late-Victorian and Federation period, although it started life as a bullock track leading to farmland, and earned a reputation in the 1960s for being run-down, seedy and unsafe.

Real estate prices have since driven out most of the undesirables, although junkies are not unusual and, by nightfall, I did spot a little huddle of deros hanging out together. There's so many other people around, though, that there's no feeling of risk.

But, if you do feel the need to move on, keep wandering until you hit the adjacent suburb of Glebe, smaller than Newtown and a little more genteel, but home to lots more great shops and the busy weekend Glebe Markets held in the local school grounds.

Here's a selection of Newtown's and Glebe's most interesting shops:

ALL BUTTONS GREAT AND SMALL

Home to Lucy Godoroja's passion for buttons, this tiny shop is jammed full with buttons in every shape and size.

She has sold buttons for as much as A$100 ($122) each, made in the 1970s in Paris and adorned with gold and crystal diamantes; but when I was there some Swiss buttons topped the price list at around A$66 each.

Even if you're not into sewing, there are some buttons to adorn hats and bags, hair-ties and shoes, cushions and quilts, or to string up as jewellery.

SHORTIES

Good enough to make you want to have another baby. The clothing for wee girls and boys (up to age 6) here is testimony to the creative flair of Sydneysiders and Melburnians.

Even actor Russell Crowe has discovered Shorties, falling for the hand-crocheted soft toys, ranging from cup cakes to robots and rockets.

AMAZING PAPER

Just off King St in Enmore Rd, choose papers to write letters (there's a huge stock of envelopes to match), wrap gifts, make journals, scrapbooks, boxes and bags.

The shop also sells pens, wax seals, ribbons and stickers. Exotic papers include hemp, tamarind and banana leaf, silk, lace, flocked, suede, embroidered, foiled and embossed.

Great to feast your eyes and touch and feel all the different textures.

MADE590

A tiny fashion store, with its front door on the corner of King and Union Sts, Made590 mostly stocks locally designed clothing for women, men and kids, displayed alongside unusual homewares from Japan. This is one of Newtown's fashion stores that grew out of its owner Christina Kelly's successful years of designing and selling clothing at outdoor markets.

ZUKINI

Also hugely loyal to local designers, Zukini has a great selection of clothing from emerging designers.

A standout label is High Tea With Mrs Woo, which nowadays makes it to Australia's annual Fashion Week. These garments are instantly recognisable, superbly tailored, intricately designed and elegant.

The website is a delight in itself, worthy of a decent click-and-scroll session.

ARCHITECTURAL HERITAGE

Magnificent architectural treasures fill two floors of this 30-year-old business in Glebe Point Rd. Ornate gates, statues, mirrors, massive double doors, fire surrounds, and glittering leadlights hanging from the ceilings had me a little awestruck.

It's all for sale and most items come with an intriguing story, such as having been borrowed as props for movies such as Scooby Doo, Babe, Moulin Rouge and Mission Impossible.

Architectural Heritage is used to shipping large items to New Zealand and there are smaller treasures you can buy and take home yourself.

SAPPHO BOOKS AND CAFE

Glebe boasts this brilliant second-hand bookstore - more than 30,000 titles - in which I browsed and lunched for over an hour.

Housed in an old 1880s building, tables are tucked behind the bookshelves to take the extra customers when the semi-outdoor cafe gets too full.

There's outside seating on the main street, too. Upstairs is an equally fascinating collection of second-hand and antiquarian music books at Da Capo Music.

Port Lincoln: Sashimi school

How do like your tuna? Lightly seared with a soy, ginger and lime sauce, or served gracefully as gossamer-thin layers of super-fresh sashimi? How about speeding past your face underwater at 70km/h?

In a world where you can cage-dive with great white sharks, swimming with a school of one-metre tuna is not your everyday experience - especially when one of them might nibble your toes.

The toe-nibbling experience of South Australian Tourism Minister Jane Lomax-Smith is just one of the anecdotes that Matt Waller of Adventure Bay Charters relates as we head for Port Lincoln's tuna farms 1km offshore.

Tuna has been good for this once-sleepy South Australian fishing town. Locally harvested tuna can bring A$5000 ($6175) in Japan, and Port Lincoln's steady supply of sashimi-grade fish has given the town the highest proportion of millionaires in Australia. Super-yachts line the Port Lincoln marina.

As we arrive at a floating pontoon ringed by two netted pens filled with darting tuna, I calculate that I'm about to dive into about half a million dollars of the world's freshest sashimi.

They're the same kind of pen that Port Lincoln's piscine entrepreneurs use to fatten up their tuna before they're despatched to the famous Tsukiji fish market in Tokyo.

In nearby Baird Bay, swimming with sea lions and dolphins is on offer, but today only tuna is on the adventure menu.

Some of the fish weigh 150kg, and a steady supply of pilchards is keeping them eating and moving so the water is roiling with a restless energy from the smoky-black muscular fish.

Donning a mask and snorkel I lower myself into the water just as another shower of fresh pilchards rains down. In the crystalline water the mayhem is amplified as the tuna whizz past centimetres from my face. It feels like I'm crossing a busy street in a big Asian city, and just like in Saigon or Bangkok, the fishy commotion effortlessly parts and goes around me.

Back on the pontoon a few non-snorkelling spectators are handfeeding the tuna, gingerly dipping their pilchards centimetres into the water. The impact is instantaneous as tuna dart over, tuck in, and move on.

Other tuna fans descend into an underwater viewing tunnel, staying dry but still experiencing the sublime speed and grace of the fish.

Meanwhile, I descend through a silvery, shape-shifting cloud, feeling the sleek fish brush my torso remembering that Matt, our boat skipper, said: "Be careful to keep your fingers tucked in".

But by now my confidence is building and I proffer a fresh pilchard in the water. Tuna come at me from all sides and the winner is a plump, but still speedy fish.

This morning I was looking forward to tuna for dinner, but after this up close experience, maybe a nice kangaroo steak instead.

IF YOU GO

Swimming with tuna with Adventure Bay Charters off Port Lincoln is one of the stops on overland camping trips with Nullarbor Explorer from Perth to Adelaide or vice versa.

House of Travel has Adelaide to Eyre Peninsula Nullarbor Traveller packages which also include optional activities such as swimming with sealions and the Great White Shark Experience.

Louis Vuitton Denim Bag: Snob or Slob?

I have no words for Louis Vuitton's python-interior embroidered denim bag with multi-beaded handle (and are those feathers I see dangling nonchalantly?!?!?).

I guess one could use it inside out and pretend it's really a python bag lined in denim. I mean it would make more sense but then you'd lose out on the kaleidoscope of logos in rainbow colors and we all know LV fans love their logos!

This actually makes me sad; after touring Louis Vuitton's home and atelier I'd developed a newfound respect for the brand, but this-- this makes no sense whatsoever (though it could have been made purely for editorial purposes, or for Beyonce). and not only,I think the coach wholesale is your good choice,too.

What do you think?

All that glitters is not true geisha in Kyoto

There are five women, all strangers, in the hot pool, surrounded by drifts of fluffy snow. Small lights glitter in the tree above. The sun is setting, and steam curls over the water.

We're all naked, thank goodness.

Shortly earlier, I'd a moment of panic when I stepped outside from the hotel to descend the stone steps to this onsen, a traditional Japanese hot-spring spa. What if all the Japanese women already in the water are wearing bathing suits? There was a sign inside the changing room saying "swim suit no", but that could have just been another quirk of Japanese-to-English translation, like the sign I saw on the skifield yesterday for "Gondora tickets".

This is my first onsen visit; imagine the culture-clash horror if I've blundered nude into a temple of modesty. The Japanese are renowned for shyness and restraint; communal frolicking in the buff isn't the first activity that I'd expect them to enjoy.

As I shuffled down the steps, blushing for my nakedness, the Japanese ladies already luxuriating in the water averted their eyes. "Konichiwa," an elderly woman smiled as I plunged myself into the warmth.

I snuck the briefest of looks. She was naked too. Relief.

Onsen is one of Japan's finest traditions, and it has become a favourite adjunct to the snowsports lifestyle. Everyone from late adolescence to dotage is here, some with little face-cloths draped over their heads, most with their eyes shut, just relaxing. The alpine village of Hakuba, three hours west of Tokyo on the main island of Honshu, is famous for its thermal springs and surrounding network of interlinked skifields, and most of the hotels and guesthouses have private bathing pools.

It's all surprisingly cheap - a night's accommodation at a mid-range hotel like our Mominoki Hotel in Hakuba is 12,000 ($147) per room, per night; a lunchtime bowl of fragrant vegetables, meat or fish and noodles with miso soup is around 800; and a day's skiing, including bullet-train tickets to and from Tokyo, lift passes and all gear and clothing rental is 8000.

Hakuba is the heart of the Nagano district, home to dozens of skifields and host of the 1998 Winter Olympics. The Olympic heritage lingers; a Scandinavian toboggan team left graffiti on the walls of a sushi bar, Kikyoya, in Hakuba village, and the owner - a garrulous former professional baseballer - has turned it into a tradition, encouraging visitors to scrawl their own messages on the walls.

The bar is full of Westerners on the night I visit, all eating salmon roe, squid on rice, tuna marbled with rich, flavoursome fat.

Only two of the patrons are Japanese, including my friend Chieko Oto. So where are all her compatriots? They seem to be at a nearby McDonald's, leaving the local food to the foreigners. In our two days of skiing together, Chieko and I have eaten like princesses - rice and poached salmon for breakfast, cool soba noodles with wasabi for supper, lunch of grilled lamb on rice, served with green tea.

Here, a snow holiday isn't just about deep powder, long runs and dodging the snowboarders - although there's plenty of that. It's an experience for the whole body and mind: hot sake at the end of the day; a massage at night; sitting in the onsen, poking one toe out of the water to feel the spike of cold.

In Takasaki, a mid-sized city between Nagano and Tokyo, we find a jazz bar where couples sit close on small stools, watching the chefs. We eat shabu-shabu, a bubbling hotpot of stock on our table, into which we plunge fine slices of beef, mushrooms, greens and tight little bundles of noodles. I'm pressing Chieko for some culinary tips.

"What do Westerners do wrong when we use chopsticks?" I want to know. A couple of nights earlier, at a sashimi counter in Tokyo, my friend Robert (an expat) chided me for picking up a sliver of pickled ginger in the same chopstick-ful as my fish.

"Don't do that," he says sharply, then: "Sorry. It's just that the ginger is a palate-cleanser. You're only supposed to eat it between courses."

Reluctantly, Chieko confirms Robert was right about the ginger, but like so many Japanese she'll do anything to avoid offending me, and steers us to a different subject.

But how does this innate politeness _ which seems to be at the centre of Japan's orderly, self-contained nature - intersect with skiing, always such a chaotic, messy business? On my journey from Auckland, through Tokyo to the skifields, I've observed thoughtfulness of a scale undreamt of in most Western societies, and I've been curious to know whether the general air of restraint will dissipate when we arrive at the snow.

On the Shinkansen (bullet train) from Tokyo, a conductor in the carriage turns and bows to the passengers before passing through the sliding door at the end.

When I stop to take photographs of the vertiginous Olympic jump-stadium near Hakuba, a young father stops building a snowman with his toddler to enquire if I'm alright. He's concerned I'm not getting the best view of the jump and inspects the snow-proofness of my boots before taking me uphill for a better outlook.

There also seems an aversion to risk. "No, no, no, no," says a cabbie another night in Tokyo. I'm trying to tell him the name of my hotel (Metropolitan Marunouchi, which might sound slightly different in a Western accent). He doesn't want to look at my map or the card I'm waving with the hotel's name printed in Japanese script. He just wants me to get out of the cab - and the taxi drivers in the queue behind him also refuse to take me once they see I've been rejected by their fellow driver. They don't know if I'm mad, drunk or just a crazy gaijin, and they don't care - they won't even open their automatic doors.

So how does this risk-averse, considerate race react when dipped in snowflakes?

With the same subdued good manners they apply to city life.

And in the onsen, the mood is hushed, calm, polite; the only sound is the splashing spring and a few murmured remarks.

Perhaps there was nothing to worry about, after all.

If I'd been the only naked bather, the gentlewomen of Hakuba would have been far to polite too make me feel awkward about it.

if you want to enjoy youself in there,please contact us:www.dragonflytours-japan.com

Valentino Fango Nappa Petale bag and Topshop's corsage grab bag

You know those rellies you have who you know you are related to - you share the same genes and even look pretty similar - but sadly have nothing in common with? Well, these two bags are a bit like that. They look like they've got the same blood lines thanks to the pinky tones and of course, the pretty rosette decoration.

But look closer and they're about as different as can be. One is Valentino, one is Topshop. There's buttery leather on one, and um, not buttery leather on the other.

One is getting close to $2,500 while the other is the much more cheery figure of ￡22. I guess at the end of the day, blood is thicker than water and despite their differences, both are pretty special in their own way.

if you want to get other informations,please log in:www.wholesaler-handbag.com

What Kind Of Rolex Watch Would Wolverine Choose To Wear?

By John Lavitt - As the opening weekend of Wolverine: Origins, starring Hugh Jackman, was bringing in over $78 million dollars in box office, we kept asking ourselves an intriguing question: What kind of Rolex watch would Wolverine choose to wear? Commonly known as Logan, Wolverine's cool personality, funny one-liners and badass attitude make him one of the most popular Marvel characters and a huge hit on the silver screen. Given Wolverine’s ongoing battles with Magneto, the mutant master of Magnetism, in the X-Men movies and comic books, it makes sense that Wolverine would wear a Rolex Milgauss. Introduced by Rolex in 1954, the Rolex Milgauss was designed as an antimagnetic watch specifically for those who worked in areas where electromagnetic fields can wreck havoc on the timing of a watch, like power plants and in battles with super villains. Wolverine’s mutant powers lead directly to the second reason why a Rolex Milgauss is the watch for this superhero. His special powers include a healing factor that cures any wound, and heals any disease, and retractable bone claws in his hands. A corrupt government program known as Weapon X bonded Wolverine’s bones with adamantium and banded the super metal to his bone claws that he can eject from between his knuckles Given the metal-banded claws and metal-bonded skeleton, plus his ongoing battles with Magneto, the antimagnetic Rolex Milgauss watch is the only possible choice for Wolverine.

After the Weapon X program erased his memories, Wolverine wandered about until was approached by Professor Charles Xavier, the founder of the X-Men. Wolverine chose to leave the Weapon X program and join the X-Men. Wolverine remained with the X-Men for quite some time, becoming their field commander, where he first encountered the mutant Magneto and the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. During a battle with Magneto, Wolverine slashed Magneto with his claws. Magneto retaliated, using his powers of the magnetic field to tear the adamantium out of Wolverine's skeleton, causing extensive injuries. These extreme injuries shorted out Wolverine's healing factor for a time, and Logan discovered that the claws that he believed a result of the Weapon X project were in fact part of his actual bone structure due to his mutation. These bone claws became Wolverine's main weapons until his skeleton later became grafted to adamantium again. If Wolverine had been wearing a Rolex Milgauss on his wrist, he might have known that Magneto’s revenge was heading his way. Wolverine is a mutant who possesses the ability to regenerate damaged or destroyed areas of his cellular structure at a rate far greater than that of an ordinary human. Wolverine’s natural healing affords him virtual immunity to poisons and most diseases, and he possesses superhumanly acute senses. Like an animal on the hunt, Wolverine is able to recognize people and objects by scent, even if that person or object is hidden. Wolverine’s skeleton includes six retractable one-foot long bone claws, three in each arm, that are housed beneath the skin and muscle of his forearms. At will, Wolverine releases these slightly curved claws through his skin beneath the knuckles on each hand. The skin between the knuckles tears and bleeds, but the blood loss is quickly halted by his healing factor.

Wolverine’s entire skeletal structure, including his claws, was artificially bonded to the nearly indestructible metal Adamantium in the Weapon X program to develop government assassins. As a result, Wolverine’s bones are virtually unbreakable, and his claws are capable of cutting through almost anything known to man. Due to his healing factor, the presence of Adamantium in his body does not interfere with his bones’ normal function of generating blood corpuscles. Given the magnetic Adamantium in his body and his ongoing battles with Magneto, the antimagnetic Rolex Milgauss is the perfect watch for Wolverine. At the Basel 2007, the renowned watch fair, Rolex announced the return of the Milgauss. The new Rolex Milgauss comes in a 40mm bezel, with a COSC certified 3131 automatic winding movement. The new Milgauss version with a black face, white and orange elements and green sapphire glass (the 116400 GV) caught the attention of watch buyers and in short order was being sold in the gray market at three times its suggested retail price. It has a certain style and flair, particularly the coolness of the green sapphire glass, that fit right into Wolverine’s natural style. The word Milgauss is derived from the French word mille, which means one thousand, and gauss, the unit of the magnetic field. If you expose a mechanical watch to a strong magnetic field, some of the parts in the movement become magnetized. This will cause the mechanism to run quite fast and require demagnetization. The Rolex Milgauss is able to resist a magnetic field of 1,000 Gauss, thus helping Wolverine resist the powers of Magneto. Without question, the perfect Rolex watch for a mutant superhero like Wolverine is the Rolex Milgauss with the green sapphire glass.

About Melrose Jewelers

Melrose Jewelers is the nation’s leading online retailer of Rolex wrist watches including mens watches and ladies watches and its associates have,collectively, over 220 years of experience in importing, restoring, and retailing Rolex and other luxury watches. Melrose Jewelers was founded with one simple premise: Buying a Rolex or other luxury watch shouldn’t be mysterious or complicated. Melrose Jewelers also employs a staff of top university-educated Trained Experts that provide customer service that extends from your initial sales call until years after you’ve received your purchase. Melrose Jewelers is not an authorized agent or affiliated with Rolex USA, Rolex S.A., Rolex International, Breitling, or Patek Philippe luxury watches. Rolex Day Date, Rolex President, Rolex GMT Master, Rolex Daytona, Rolex Oyster Perpetual Datejust, Rolex PearlMaster, Rolex Masterpiece, Rolex Super President, Rolex Submariner, Rolex Yacht-Master, Rolex Explorer and Rolex Sea Dweller are all trademarks of Rolex S.A.

Melrose Jewelers also hosts the Melrose Jewelers (MJ) Rolex Watch Blog. The MJ Rolex Watch Blog is the world’s largest independent forum website about Rolex events and Rolex and other luxury watches in pop culture. With over 300 user-posted articles and new articles and commentary updated daily, the Melrose Jewelers Rolex watch blog contains articles about Rolex watches owned by Danica Patrick, Matthew McConaughey, Eva Longoria Parker, Tobey Maguire, Lindsey Lohan, Eddie Murphy, Tom Selleck, Jennifer Garner, Donald Trump, Eva Longoria, Skepta, Jennifer Lopez, Lance Armstrong, John Mayer, Cameron Diaz, Justin Timberlake, Brad Pitt, Drew Barrymore, DJ Am, Tim Tebow, Colt McCoy, Jay-Z, Zara Phillips, Barack Obama, O.J. Simpson, Madonna, Ana Ivanovic, Jennifer Aniston, Tokio Hotel, Paris Hilton, Orlando Bloom, Tupac Shakur, Lily Allen, & Wiley. Blog postings on the MJ Rolex Watch Blog are submitted by independent Rolex enthusiasts and not by Melrose Jewelers.

Marc by Marc Jacobs Lil' Riz bag: Snob or Slob?

I was excited to find a bag under $500 to report to you guys, this is probably the most requested price point from our readers but so difficult to find good bags at this range!

The Lil' Riz bag from Marc by Marc Jacobs has the cute round shape reminiscent of the whimsical Miu Miu Coffer (remember that bag? I still love it!) in yummy summer colors. Perfect for the warmer season, right? WRONG! Look at that giant logo plaque! What was he thinking? Has he gone logo 'loco' in his old age or the Louis Vuittonll the years at LV?!?! The Marc Jacobs I loved in the '90s was an anti logo rebel talent~ this looks like something Coach would design. But at least Coach would only charge $200 for it.

If you can get past the awful name plate

Maia N Python Hobo with Croc Strap

The classic beauty bags is safely established now that Queens of state (Jordan, Spain, Saudi Arabia) and fashion (Carine Roitfeld) are loyal fans. But seriously, even if they weren't, how can you deny that this bag is nothing short of I-will-eat-only-bread-and-water-for-a-month-must-have-amazing?its name is Maia N. bag.

Or quinoa and water, if you're counting carbs and worried about lack of protein. The use of crocodile back for the straps is not only waste-free croc use but the look is bold and unique. Not to mention, super sturdy. The foldover top closure is my favorite, easy and chic.

I love natural python but it is for hardcore python lovers, the red clay is perfect for Fall, it has a pop of color but is still muted enough to coordinate with Fall colors. This bag is already selling out, it may still be available at Intermix stores in NY but is sold out online. You can also order by emailing Joanna at Maia N. The price is great for such a high quality timeless python, $2880.

Japan: Culture splash

There are five women, all strangers, in the hot pool, surrounded by drifts of fluffy snow. Small lights glitter in the tree above. The sun is setting, and steam curls over the water,I think you won't want to loss,so,contact us:http://www.dragonflytours-japan.com.

We're all naked, thank goodness.

Shortly earlier, I'd a moment of panic when I stepped outside from the hotel to descend the stone steps to this onsen, a traditional Japanese hot-spring spa. What if all the Japanese women already in the water are wearing bathing suits? There was a sign inside the changing room saying "swim suit no", but that could have just been another quirk of Japanese-to-English translation, like the sign I saw on the skifield yesterday for "Gondora tickets".

This is my first onsen visit; imagine the culture-clash horror if I've blundered nude into a temple of modesty. The Japanese are renowned for shyness and restraint; communal frolicking in the buff isn't the first activity that I'd expect them to enjoy.

As I shuffled down the steps, blushing for my nakedness, the Japanese ladies already luxuriating in the water averted their eyes. "Konichiwa," an elderly woman smiled as I plunged myself into the warmth.

I snuck the briefest of looks. She was naked too. Relief.

Onsen is one of Japan's finest traditions, and it has become a favourite adjunct to the snowsports lifestyle. Everyone from late adolescence to dotage is here, some with little face-cloths draped over their heads, most with their eyes shut, just relaxing. The alpine village of Hakuba, three hours west of Tokyo on the main island of Honshu, is famous for its thermal springs and surrounding network of interlinked skifields, and most of the hotels and guesthouses have private bathing pools.

It's all surprisingly cheap - a night's accommodation at a mid-range hotel like our Mominoki Hotel in Hakuba is 12,000 ($147) per room, per night; a lunchtime bowl of fragrant vegetables, meat or fish and noodles with miso soup is around 800; and a day's skiing, including bullet-train tickets to and from Tokyo, lift passes and all gear and clothing rental is 8000.

Hakuba is the heart of the Nagano district, home to dozens of skifields and host of the 1998 Winter Olympics. The Olympic heritage lingers; a Scandinavian toboggan team left graffiti on the walls of a sushi bar, Kikyoya, in Hakuba village, and the owner - a garrulous former professional baseballer - has turned it into a tradition, encouraging visitors to scrawl their own messages on the walls.

The bar is full of Westerners on the night I visit, all eating salmon roe, squid on rice, tuna marbled with rich, flavoursome fat.

Only two of the patrons are Japanese, including my friend Chieko Oto. So where are all her compatriots? They seem to be at a nearby McDonald's, leaving the local food to the foreigners. In our two days of skiing together, Chieko and I have eaten like princesses - rice and poached salmon for breakfast, cool soba noodles with wasabi for supper, lunch of grilled lamb on rice, served with green tea.

Here, a snow holiday isn't just about deep powder, long runs and dodging the snowboarders - although there's plenty of that. It's an experience for the whole body and mind: hot sake at the end of the day; a massage at night; sitting in the onsen, poking one toe out of the water to feel the spike of cold.

In Takasaki, a mid-sized city between Nagano and Tokyo, we find a jazz bar where couples sit close on small stools, watching the chefs. We eat shabu-shabu, a bubbling hotpot of stock on our table, into which we plunge fine slices of beef, mushrooms, greens and tight little bundles of noodles. I'm pressing Chieko for some culinary tips.

"What do Westerners do wrong when we use chopsticks?" I want to know. A couple of nights earlier, at a sashimi counter in Tokyo, my friend Robert (an expat) chided me for picking up a sliver of pickled ginger in the same chopstick-ful as my fish.

"Don't do that," he says sharply, then: "Sorry. It's just that the ginger is a palate-cleanser. You're only supposed to eat it between courses."

Reluctantly, Chieko confirms Robert was right about the ginger, but like so many Japanese she'll do anything to avoid offending me, and steers us to a different subject.

But how does this innate politeness _ which seems to be at the centre of Japan's orderly, self-contained nature - intersect with skiing, always such a chaotic, messy business? On my journey from Auckland, through Tokyo to the skifields, I've observed thoughtfulness of a scale undreamt of in most Western societies, and I've been curious to know whether the general air of restraint will dissipate when we arrive at the snow.

On the Shinkansen (bullet train) from Tokyo, a conductor in the carriage turns and bows to the passengers before passing through the sliding door at the end.

When I stop to take photographs of the vertiginous Olympic jump-stadium near Hakuba, a young father stops building a snowman with his toddler to enquire if I'm alright. He's concerned I'm not getting the best view of the jump and inspects the snow-proofness of my boots before taking me uphill for a better outlook.

There also seems an aversion to risk. "No, no, no, no," says a cabbie another night in Tokyo. I'm trying to tell him the name of my hotel (Metropolitan Marunouchi, which might sound slightly different in a Western accent). He doesn't want to look at my map or the card I'm waving with the hotel's name printed in Japanese script. He just wants me to get out of the cab - and the taxi drivers in the queue behind him also refuse to take me once they see I've been rejected by their fellow driver. They don't know if I'm mad, drunk or just a crazy gaijin, and they don't care - they won't even open their automatic doors.

So how does this risk-averse, considerate race react when dipped in snowflakes?

With the same subdued good manners they apply to city life.

And in the onsen, the mood is hushed, calm, polite; the only sound is the splashing spring and a few murmured remarks.

Perhaps there was nothing to worry about, after all.

If I'd been the only naked bather, the gentlewomen of Hakuba would have been far to polite too make me feel awkward about it.

* Claire Harvey travelled to Japan as a guest of Air New Zealand.

FIND OUT MORE

Japan's ski season runs from mid-December to the end of May. Air New Zealand flies direct to Tokyo every day, and to Osaka five days a week. Return tickets from $1600 a person. See airnz.co.nz.

RESORTS

Around 8000 ($98) buys you return bullet-train tickets, lift passes and rental gear at many resorts near Tokyo. Gala Yuzawa is a 77-minute trip from Tokyo (approx $46 one way).

To reach the alpine village of Hakuba, which is surrounded by resorts, take the bullet train to Nagano (approx $45 one way), then a free one-hour shuttle bus from Nagano station.