Summer Vacation: Shikoku Trip Part I

So, let me tell you about my trip, mini-series style. It's just too big to read in one sitting and there are 60 some pictures that need to be uploaded, so please peeps, be patient. Now, from the beginning...

The Shinkansen is Japan's Bullet Train. I now fondly call it the Shink because I love it so much it needed a pet name. We Americans have been missing out on how amazing a train ride can be because of the sorry excuse for a rail system that is Amtrak. For my fellow SAT dorks out there- The Shinkansen :: Amtrak : Neiman Marcus :: Big Lots. I began my trip in style on the Nozomi Train, the newest and fastest of the lot. It looks like a streamlined duck on the outside and makes a cool whistling noise at top speed.

The Shink beats the hell out of flying any day. There is no turbulence, no lost luggage, no weather delays, no 8th on the runway for takeoff, no emergency landings and best of all, no pilots. This is the way to travel. At 190 miles an hour, the trip from Tokyo to Hiroshima took just under 4 hours and made about 6 stops including Osaka, Kyoto and Yokohama. The inside of the train is modern and ultra quiet. There are vending machines and seat service that includes bento lunches and cocktails. The doors between cars open automatically as you approach them like in star trek and the toilets have heated seats and speakers that play running water noises when you sit so you dont have to hear yourself pee. The seats recline way back and you have plenty of leg room to stretch out. Earthquake phobic people like myself can rest easy knowing that the trains automatically stop when an earthquake is detected. I got to see quite a bit of Japan fly by on my trip from one end of Honshu to the other. Here's a peek:

I arrived at Hiroshima terminal around 6:00pm and stepped outside to find Joe and Liz, who were kind enough to plan this whole trip and then invite me along. Joe and Liz were the ones who started the snowball rolling that eventually avalanched into me quitting my job and moving to Japan. They had similar late 20s crises and came here a year ago. I had met Liz a couple of times and Joe once, but didn't know them well and hadn't heard much about their move to Japan until that fateful day that I had beers with Chris Grant. I had been having an awful day at work, sitting though theatrical zoning meetings and arguing with the parking authority on the phone when I suddenly had a feeling like someone was standing on my chest. With all the opportunities I've had and all the choices I've made, this is what it comes to? Working in West Philly arguing about whether or not a bike rack will be reinstalled in a municipal parking lot on Baltimore Avenue? This can not be my life. The thought had just floored me when Chris called and said "happy hour?" A few hours later I was still in the thick of my gloomy realization when I asked Chris to tell me a story because I didn't feel like talking until I had knocked back a few V&Ts. Then the snowball came my way: "Well", he said "Did I tell you that Liz and Joe moved to Japan?"

That snow ball came full circle when ten months later I was walking out of the train station at Hiroshima and Joe and Liz were waiting for me in a tiny Mitsubishi packed with camping gear.

Joe and Liz in Hiroshima

We were going to Shikoku: Japan's oft-forgotten, most scarcely populated and reputably haunted island. Shikoku wasn't accessible by bridge until the 90's and was used in history as a place of exile. Joe, Liz and I all seem to follow a pattern of self-exile (at least for the time being) so I suppose Shikoku was a fitting place for us to vacation. But first things first. We spent our first night in Hiroshima and made our way to the Atomic Bomb Dome, the only building left standing within a mile and a half radius of ground zero.

Gembaku Domu (A-Bomb Dome)

The ruin is somber but beautiful, surrounded by peace park and two rivers. It is strange to pay your respects at a memorial for an autrocity commited by your own country. I would have been glad to rest assured in the knowledge that the murdering of civilians ended with Hiroshima, but sadly, it continued in another part of the world even as I stood humbly before the dome. My students are moved at the fact that I visited Hiroshima so early into my stay, and as a majority, the Japanese seem to regard Hiroshima as a reason to strive for peace in the future rather than a reason to remain bitter towards Americans. I am grateful for their attitude, because although Japan's citizens must be among the quirkiest in the world, they also hold grace and dignity in high regard. I think I will learn a lot from my neighbors.

The dome and peace park

After spending the night in Hiroshima, we set out the next morning for the port of Kure to catch a two hour ferry to our isolated island home for the next 7 days. The ferry took us across the island dotted Inland Sea. The water is a deep blue green and the mountains appear to be painted on the horizon in varying shades of gray. The sea could use a good skimming in some areas, but that trash comes from Korea, just ask anyone.

The Sato Inland Sea

We arrived in Matsuyama and after checking in at the guest house, we took a rope lift up the mountain in the direction of the famous castle. It was my first Japanese castle and it did not disapoint. The woodwork, costume displays and views of the city were top notch according to Liz and Joe who have toured their share of Kyoto's famous sites.

Matsuyama Castle

The view of Matsuyama over the castle's eaves

After poking around Matsuyama for the day and witnessing the beginnings of their Summer Festival, we hopped a streetcar and took it to Dogo Onsen, Japan's oldest and most famous bath house. I had butterflies going in and as it turns out, they weren't unwarranted.

Dogo Onsen

There is a type of over-exposure therapy in which one faces a fear for an extended period of time until the anxiety ends and the phobia is cured. An onsen is that kind of treatment for the fear of being naked in public. After this experience I don't think I will be revisited by my naked graduation speech dream again.

We bought our tickets (about $8) and were given a bar of soap, a towel the size of a dish rag and a locker. A few minutes later, my new friend Liz and I were standing naked against a wall in a steamy room filled with about 30 Japanese woman wondering what to cover with our towels. Before entering the bath in the center of the room, you are required to sit, scrub and rinse at a washing station on either side of the room. The bath was crowded and the washing stations were filled with women chatting away and conditioning their hair, so Liz and I waited awkwardly for about 25 minutes making small talk and trying not to stare. This is supposed to be relaxing.

We finally snagged two washing stations next to each other and tried to act casual while we washed our hair with bar soap. We eased into the scalding hot bath a few minutes later and kept our eyes on the fountains and the domed ceiling until we couldn't stand the heat anymore and got the hell out of there. The naked anxiety was gone after the first 15 minutes, but I still wouldn't say it was relaxing. Maybe in February after being cold all day, but not in August when you've reached your heat threshold by 2pm. I did feel clean as a whistle, that is, until I put the sweaty clothes back on that I had been wearing to hike the moutain all day. That must be why everyone else had yukata (japanese summer kimono-style robes).

Me, post-bath, headed for a stiff drink

Joe, Liz and I had a moto for our trip: "Learn it." Living in Japan is daunting enough even with your own apartment and a daily routine, but when road tripping in an unfamiliar place, there is always a new obstacle that needs tackling. We vowed to dig in our heels and figure things out rather than getting flustered. Getting gas? Learned it. Buying the right Ferry ticket? Learned it. Navigating with maps solely written in Kanji? Learned it. Naked public bathing? Learned it.

This was only the first 24 hours of my trip. You can see why this will take a while. I will try to keep them coming at a steady pace, so ease off me with the demanding emails people! And as always, when you read new posts, leave a comment! They keep me motivated.
My pan-handling sign: Will write for comments. :-)