i heard of a Bavarian kid who came to Yakushima for 3 days and ended up staying two weeks.
After my first full day, I was so tired from hiking that I ended up just walking to the beach in the town of Anbo, and setting camp there. I was happy not to have been the only one with the same idea. Free camping in Japan is not frowned upon, but campers do tend to reserve places at campsites even months in advance. I had just opened my satellite view to see any patches of grass or sand remote enough to be calm for the night. There were two tents by the fire, and a small group of kids introducing themselves as the Anbo elementary school 4th graders camping club. I gave them what was left of my moomin cookies, and after they had gone to bed, sat down for a moment to read my book by the fire. In the morning I woke up to Edelweiss being played – beautifully harmonized – on the towns public announcement megaphones. I could hardly believe it was not a hallucination. I had sought out a good-looking site to camp at Yudomari beach, within a stone's throw of an onsen by the beach. It was secluded enough not to have any or very little passing traffic – mostly a few people going to fish on the large concrete pier that looked like a gigantic submarine bunker. Still, it fitted the landscape of black sand, black beach rocks in pareidolic formations and a silhouette of Jurassic park -type green mountains in the background. I had bought a bus pass for 3 days (same price as for 2 days), so I thought to myself: might as well stay for a few days longer. I had grown fond of the island and especially its busdrivers, whom I had seen every day going up and down the coastal road around the perfectly circle-shaped island. In the evening, at the onsen I got to chatting with another gaijin, and asked for a ride down to the next village where there was about the only place open for food within 5km either way from Yudomari. The ride saved me 45 mins of walking, that I intended to do anyway on the way back. The nights on Yakushima had been fragrant with flowers and sweetly warm until now. The Hachiman as it was called, turned out to double as a karaoke bar after I had finished dinner. I had already made my way out when I regretted and turned back. There was a group with a girl from Holland, with whom we exchanged a few friendly words in Dutch. They were going to stay on the island until the end of April. Just in time to get out of the way when 2000 sea turtles abeach in May, I said. They were sorry to miss them. They are better left alone anyway. They had Edelweiss on the karaoke menu. The host said everyone in Japan knows this song, and in English too, as it is sung in high-school gatherings. We were the Captain and Liesl that night. I don't have a lot of things with me on this trip. But things tend to accumulate. A box with space for 8 fruits, with just 3 left. A bento from the day before, still in good shape (food is well salted here). Some trash (trash cans are not abundant on the island). I had grabbed a waterbottle with a carrying string from the place I go bouldering in Helsinki. It was been a great companion on walks and hikes across the island. I've been filling it at public restrooms, waterfalls and rivers. In the morning I put the left-overs from my juice unsealable tetra pack. Last night as I was taking the bus to Anbo to sit at a zoom-meeting at a local place whose wifi my phone connects to every time I pass it, bringing awaited news from friends and family, I struck up a conversation with a father and son from Tokyo that I had met settling for the night at one of the mountain huts I passed on my first hiking day. They had slept three nights in mountain huts, and thus crossed the whole island from north to south. I gave them my card in case they ever considered coming to hike in Finland. The father promised to write an email to me. It was a good idea to bring business cards to Japan, I never have them otherwise. Once I got off, I went to negotiate with the cafe that were only about to open at 5, whether I could quietly sit and have a meeting for an hour and a half before they opened. I didn't have internet otherwise. They were very friendly and gave me a cup of cold coffee to seal the deal. I had a good meeting topped with an excellent meal of sashimi and rice with pickles. I realised I didn't have my favourite accessory. It came to me and I checked my pictures. I had taken one of the bus stop I had left to Anbo from. And there my water bottle was, tucked inside the shelter. I took the last bus back to Yudomari. I was the only passenger. The bus driver was the quiet guy. The talkative one repeats everything the announcements for every stop. There are over a 100 over the island every minute or so, and the announcements repeat the stop number, the name, in Japanese, in English, and the occasional Iwasaki corporation announcement. The bus alwsays takes a small detour up on the hill in Onoaida to often just drive past the Iwasaki hoteru and coming back down onto the island's circular road. A gesture of diligence, perhaps also sponsorship. The buses on Yakushima are small theatres for an intricate and accurate choreography of small machines. I always sit in the front row. When a passenger enters, unless they have a contactless card as the younger locals often do, they take a small white slip with the number of the stop stamped on it from the #1 stamp.machine. The new slip gets sucked back in if no-one takes it once the doors close. On top at the front of the bus there is the #2 fare.grid, a large grid of light-boxes showing the price of each stop number – based on the distance from that spot. The numbers grow larger at every stop. I get mesmerised by it. When getting off, unless you have a contactless card or a bus-pass, you drop your number slip, coins and 1000 yen bills in the #3 cashier.machine. One of the slots on the cashier.machine changes bigger coins for smaller one. So there is also a #4 coin.changer. When we were nearing my water-bottle stop, I called for the stop and explained that I just wanted to pick up my water-bottle and I would get back. He saw how happy I was to be reunited with my trusted hydrator. Maybe he also has a favourite cup at home he would not think of ever losing. I noticed that the top of his cap was made of net instead of textile. I hadn't noticed before but now I couldn't unsee it. I ended up observing the buses and busdrivers for four days on Yakushima.
1 Comment
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15/7/2024 07:16:15
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lauri supponen /composer/
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