扇風機 senpuuki—fan

The weather has been fairly chilly recently, but today was amazingly warm for early February. Here in Osaka, the temperature reached 18 degrees, and according to the radio it was almost 20 degrees in Kyoto. We took advantage of the unseasonal weather to pack a picnic and head out for a walk in Tsurumi-Ryokuchi park.

We had set the car navigation to avoid motorways (tolls are pretty expensive) but in hindsight this was a bit of a mistake. I underestimated the distance to Tsurumi-Ryokuchi, and driving in the suburbs is painfully slow, requiring a lot of patience. In the end it took over an hour to get there. I had also overestimated the toll; I thought there was a flat 900 yen fee but in fact it would have been 400.

It made a nice change not to have to wear a coat, scarf or hat. After arriving and parking the car, my first stop before entering the park was to find and log a geocache.

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Inside the park, the area around the windmill which will, later in the year, be a vast field of tulips, was just grass.

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As soon as we came to a small river, Shiro decided to jump in for a swim to cool off, even though he was still on the lead.

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We paid a quick visit to the Irish pavilion,

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and then went into the South Korean pavilion for the first time. That’s Miffy looking at the camera.

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After leaving the park, there was one more thing I wanted to see in the neighbourhood. Apparently, the electric fan was invented in Osaka 100 years ago, in 1913, by a company called Kawakita Denki Kigyosha (KDK). This company became part of the Panasonic Group in 1956.

The factory is long-gone, but this piece of history is marked by a plaque on the wall of the park where the factory once stood. The picture is the “Typhoon”, the first mass-produced electric fan. The text says:

“扇風機発祥の地” senpuuki hassho no chi—The birthplace of the electric fan.

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Note on the word of the day:

扇風機 senpuuki is the Japanese word for an electric fan. It’s written with three characters: 扇 sen is a fan; 風 fuu is the wind; 機 ki is a machine (as for example 飛行機 hikouki, an aeroplane, or 洗濯機 sentakki, a washing machine).

The first model was called “Typhoon”. I always assumed this word was borrowed into English from Japanese 台風 taifuu. But according to Wikipedia the story of this word is much more complex and uncertain, and the article even suggests the word may have been “reimported” into Japanese from English.

花 hana—flower

There was a big flower Expo in Osaka in 1990. The site of the Expo is now a beautiful park, which I wrote about in an earlier post.

In the park you can see the pavilions that were created by different countries for the expo. For example, this one from Korea.

It’s fascinating to tour this collection of architectural and landscaping features from all over the world, and to see how each country chose to represent itself. For example, Canada created this mini-Niagara:

Somehow on my last visit, I had been unable to find Ireland’s pavilion, and I was determined to track it down today, curious to see what Ireland had chosen to do with its little patch of Japan. Well, we found it, and I was not disappointed!

In the Ireland pavilion was a miniature version of Newgrange.

Noticing the gap over the lintel, we wondered if it “works” (i.e. is it aligned with the winter solstice sunrise, so that the first rays of sun illuminate the passage?) Reading the plaque, it seems the answer is “yes”!

At 8:58 a.m. on the morning of the solstice, the sun shines in 19 metres along the passage. I think we should try to go there on that date and experience it for ourselves!

In addition to the model of Newgrange, they had built a beehive hut, of the kind that hermit monks used to live in, and a central water feature with stepping stones, intended to evoke the story of the Children of Lir. Dry-stone walls were used for the boundary.

Of course, the various countries’ pavilions have stood for 22 years and will gradually deteriorate over time. In the case of the Irish pavilion, the stone structures have weathered well.

At this time of year, the park features a display of cosmos flowers.

In Spring, this little hill is planted with tulips, and the effect is topped off by a full-size Dutch-style windmill.


Tsurumi Park is a very popular place for photo-shoots. As you walk around, you see lots of people dressed up like manga characters, accompanied by a serious looking photographer, on their way to the photo-shoot location.

On our way to see the cosmos, we met a man cycling with a parakeet. The parakeet sat contentedly on Yuko’s shoulder while we chatted.

At one point, the bird started nibbling on her earring, but she was able to distract it with some sunflower seeds. Apparently the parakeet is over 20 years old. By the way, this Orla Kiely top is now available in Japan.

There was also a “kids’ festival” with children playing drums. They had a pretty good rhythm going, for such young kids.

Today, we saw the first sign of autumn colours. This maple is just starting to turn from green to red.

In the next couple of weeks, we will be able to experience the full glory of the Japanese 紅葉 kouyou—autumn leaves.

Over to the west of the park, we spotted a temple with this fabulous pagoda.

Note on the word of the day:

The character 花 hana meaning “flower” is also found in the word 花火 hanabi—fireworks (literally “flower fire”).

花 is a good example of how Japanese characters typically encode both sound and meaning. The top part艹 (it’s called the “grass crown”) tells you that it’s a kind of plant or herb, and is also seen in 茶 cha—tea and 草 kusa—grass, among many others. The bottom part is 化 which has the Chinese reading ka. So the character represents a plant with the Chinese reading ka, namely a “flower”.