Naoshima Island has been given over to art, indoor and outdoor installations dot the island including; enormous fibre-glass pumpkins on the beach, inexplicable glass and mirror cubicles, art galleries and entire houses that have been turned into art projects.
Many are very good – I particularly liked the almost pitch black house that had transformed the living room into a neon-light filled pond, and one installation by James Turrell in Chichu Art Museum that was nothing short of sensational – pop out and have a look at it yourself.
Inevitably a couple suffered from the curse of modern-art blather 'The twigs on the floor are symbolic of my struggle', Really? Or are they just something that was picked up in the park on a Friday afternoon having been laying into the sake.
The nights in Naoshima are slow, boasting only a handful of restaurants and bars that are dotted inconvieniently around the island, I find myself with less things to do than Amy Winehouse's cleaning lady. Having bought a can of beer from the Seven-Eleven store, I walk around the ferry station and go to the Seven-Eleven store again. Fearing the lady behind the counter may think I am casing the joint if I visit for a third time I go back to the tent.
Early night it is then.
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