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Published: August 29th 2008
Hitching
Or not...That was it then.
2 years.
One island.
What now?
I had finished, what will no doubt prove to be one of the greatest chpters in my life and was pondering what to do next.
Having packed for weeks, getting drunk at 8 leaving parties, saying tearful goodbyes to my students, colleagues and fellow island people, I was just about ready to have short controlled heart attack and collapse in the heat and exhaustion of the final prepartations of the ending my 2 years on my island,
Words cannot ever describe my experience over here and perhaps many would not care to hear them either, but it was safe to say that however many second thoughts I had been having about whether to leave or not, the final days on my island in preparaing to leave were so stressful and emotionally taxing that I was ready to go and the build up was leading me on to another perhaps similarly taxing and rewarding conclusion to my little adventure in the east.
As my boat pulled away for the last time, and the hands of my friends, mentors and students disappeared onto
"H.I.K.I.N.G"
"WOOO!! YEAAAHHH!!! YEEAAAAHHH!!!!"
"WOo...." the horizon, a sudden wave of emotion hit me,and the reality of leaving the home that I had loved, worked on, and invested 2 years of my life into, came crashing down around me. I would miss that life so much. So much.
Only one way to releive the stress, head to the Japanese glastonbury for 3 days of opulent festival fun.
Fuji Rock.
I headed up by fast train, ferry and another ferry to Niigata prefecture, where I met Denis and his mate Chris.
What can I say about it. Apparently a japanese guy went to Glastonbury and loed it so much he wanted to make the Japanese equivalent. And thus Fuji rock was born in the alpine forsets of Niigata (although originally near Mt Fuji) and the result was one of the best festivals and atmospheres I have ever been to, and certainly one of the best memories of Japan.
The overall sleepless nights and full packed days for months leading up to the festival however, resulted in a day in a tent, sick and wounded, but it seemd only right that my body deserved a break.
No time
Soaking
Akita Koma ga dake, Akita ken to dawdle however, and after Primal Scream, My Bloody Valentine, Grand Master Flash, Asian Dub Foundation, to mention a few highlights, Denis and I settled into the reality of our next challenge to hike camp and hitch hike our way up North to Tohoku, the least explored area of Japan.
After an obvious few days of being hungover, and questioning whether hitchhiking or even hiking was a good idea we finally managed to arrive in Yamagata Prefecture at the base area of Dewa Sanzan, a group of 3 holy moutains we had opted to scale.
We arrived in the town of Tsuroaka still lagging from the weekend on Wednesday, and with no-where to stay we were directed to the town hall outside the city where we could pitch out tent for the night in the car park.
In fact we opted for the field of the primary school next door and spent and actually rather pleasant night camped out by the sumo ring under a tall cedar tree, listening to the soudn of sacadas chirping.
The following day we were out before the teahcers had arrived at work without a trace and for the first time opptomistic
about the days climb in the moring sun.
We made the rather stupid decision to climb with our packs and set off through the huge red Torii gate and towards the shrine at the base of the moutain, where we were blessed (for a cheeky 500 yen) and spent some time chatting to 2 young temple workers wo seemd more interested in what kind of beverages we liked than teaching us the ways of Shinto. FUnny how people end up in these jobs. Both had fathers in the Shrine and were destined to become priests themselvs, a prospect both seemed rather unopptimistic about and they seemed more like they wnated to be out partying it up in town.
we dug in, and the reality of how heavy the bags were it us, and after scaling ladders, passing the largest snake I have seen in Japan, summer skiiers (nice helmets guys), snow, rain, mist and beautiful alpine meadows, we arrived at the top of Gas san, or Moon mountian, the largest of the 3 moutains.
The weather was not on our side but it helped cool down the burning feeling frmo scaling up wiht such large bags, and we
arrive around 5 hours later at our mountain lodge, and an awaiting friendly smile and warm tatmai room.
A warm glow awoke me around 4am and the clanging around of morning hikers setting out to see what would be one of the most memorable sunrises of my life.
What a view. A sea of clouds, sliding down rich green, snow dopped moutains being bathe in a golden morning glow. It made it all worth it.
Back down we went throuhg green alpine meadows full of wild summer flowers and crytal clear lakes.
It was great.
Next we hithched a ride up to the last part of the three famous moutnains to Haguro san, and altogher differnet place. A small moutain restiong at the top of 2000- steps. It the base of which was a forest of enoumous cedar trees some ofver 300 years old, and hidden amongst whcih were pogodas and teples and the an enourmous thatched roof tenple at the top.
We managed to cathched the same couple we hithched with before who drove us into town and even took us to a tenple on the way.
From the town we set
off again to our next destination.
The biggest mounain in the Tohoku regin was chokai san bu tht ewather wasn't on our side and so we spent a lazy couple of days on the beach in a small town called fukura on the coast, where we honned our rummy skills and I mastered the art of assembling my tent in 3.55secs. Thats right.
We had a time limit, however, and so we had to keep moving and the next stop was to the beautiful Lkae Tozawa area, whcih sat at the base of the Akita Koma ga dake, a mouthful and a region of mountains that were possibly the most famous int eh region.
We also met a couple of rather nice Belgies at our Youth Hostel and spent the night again on the Asahis and rummy. THe next, the weather was once again not on our side and although it was clear outside there was mist around the peaks and so it seemed as though climbing could be a bit of an anti climax that day, but no tears were shed as we were in beautiful onsen area and so opted to do a circuit of
onsens of the many spring baths in the region.
We managed to be blessed with almost perfect weather the next day and headed up to get in the thicvk of it. It was a pretty ewasy climb with some beautiful views at the top and very few people around. Thousand so f dragon flies buzzed around and the air was so crisp and the colours so vivid. It was a beautiful place and the peace was shatterd only occaisionally by Denis' frequent cursing and swatting at the dragonflies around his head. "**** off!!!!!" "Get the hell off meeee!!!!!".
It was powerful stuff, like a beautiful dance between man and nautre, with man losing everytime and the occaisional shoocked old lady who appeared from a bush a the wrong time to be greeted by the big guy unleshing the verbal assault on the insect world.
If dragonflies could cry...
The descent took us of the trail and through shoulder high, thick bamboo brushes and past recent landslides fromt 4he large earthquakes that had hit the area the previous month. The rmote trail we were on and thickness of the vegetation gave us a sudden feeling of our vulnerableness to
bears, a genuine threat in the area. We consulted the hiking guide which gave us the advice to use our bear bells wisely or reate noise or even sing.
Not having this essential piece of kit, we took to a log and awe inspiring game of club style singin, whcih took us down the moutain unitl we came down inot the forest at the bottom and we followed the path, down river until we emerged, finally at the road.
We trekkked up a little further as we were around the corner from another of the little onsen gems which didnt disappoint with its old thatched roof and bleach beach wooded outdoor, mil;king coloured baths. Not mcuh better things to do at end of scaling a mountain.
Back at the hostel we collected our bags and headed to the camp site nearby to save some money. But as it was a auto campsite and the lady wanted to charge us about 15 quid for our tiny tent, we opted to chance asking the owners of the jazz cafe if we good bed down in their garden. Cheeky but they kindly said no problem, and we ended up speing th money
on wine and more rummy in their jazz cafe anyway so it was s win win situation. Apart from th beast oof a dog garding the gaarden whcih ndidi not like having to foreighn scroungers in his plot.
Next day, more hitching. We managed to get as far as Morioka the next major citry, but the couple whom we caught a ride with dropped us off in just before a toll road entrance, and we soon relised that nop one wsa going to be stopping fror us and so we actuall had to bus it into town just to get the train. Win some, lose some.
From here the goal was Aomori, the finla destination on our trip and the Nebuta festival, but we opted instead to stop of halfway to another lake to camp, whcih turned out to be another great find and we bedded down to some barbeque and beer and awoke to a beautiful still lake ready for leaping into at dawn, nothing better when the sun is rosting you alive in you alcoholic hungover gravy inside.
I forget the name.
I was ready for jumping on a train again, but in fairnes
to him, Denis manged to push forward with the hitchhiking dream and we stood out in the baking sun untill just as we were about to give up a lady in her big 4x4 pciked us up and we got a ride literally all the way to Aomori, around a hour away. Nice lady. Hitchhiking in Japan, try it.
Around the port the council had allowed all the festival goers to plant heir tents down on a psance of grass, and we followed suit, with many other, mostly tour biking, festival people. It was a great atmosphere and quite a spectale the next day seeing all these kimono clad, ribbon wearing people, moutnig on a convoy of bike to go and drink and dance the night away.
Having made a promise to meet our new found belgium friends, we mte and got ready to see the parade go by.
Nebuta festival consist of tens of thousands of brighly coloured flute players, drum bangers and dancers, touring aruond the city, with the main spectacle being large, brightly coloured, light up lanterns in the shape and colour of demons, gods and animals, all rolled along by 50 or so
men each.
It is fair to say it was great fun to see and also, a lively, if controlled atmophere, and we ended the night in a karaoke booth baring out the classics.
Another day, another hot tent, and the final day of the festival which was spent hungover and hot and the rounded of wiht massive, if bust fireworks display, where the flots were put onot boats and driven around the harbour.
Having a little time left before we would end our Tohoku Tour, and we decid to hit one more moutnain before we left.
Hakoda San, famnous for it off peasit skiing in winter was certainly not as memorable as previous, but it had its own unique look and it seemd right to be up there end at the end. The last hike. Hold in theose tears.
Following the finalle we heade to the so called 'Thousand man onsen' for a soak. It was a a beautful old builing and huge by onsen standards, but the bath certainly wsn't big enough for a thousand men, and to my suprise, or perhaps shock , there was naked woman in it. She was old and
not one to write home about, but there ws no mistakin her womaness. This was foolwed by 2 younger and prettier ladyies who quickly leapd back out and donned spelcil onsen dresses. No fair. But and experince none the less, and a challege in concentration and focus...
That night we dined of Thai food and watched the bizzare and epic opening ceremony to the Beijing olympics and noted how few good looking people there were in the British team.
It seemed right that the a night train was the way to get back to A given my up and coming trip, but first a day on the beach was in order.
A JR later and I was back in Osaka.
Hiking. Hiking. Hiking. Hiking. Hiking.
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non-member comment
Trecking...
...keep on trucking! Soooo beautiful!