Hitchhiking Japan- 1986

June 14, 1986….Osaka City

Madness, madness, madness. There's craziness in the air.

Japan started out slowly enough but it has reached neurotic heights in one short day.

We landed in Shimonoseki yesterday morning. Our trip over from Korea was comfortable indeed. The sleeping arrangements were carpeted raised platforms with plenty of blankets. The ferry was very much under populated. We skillfully took advantage of a 200 yen/USD exchange rate on board. Our duty-free whiskey allowance of 3 bottles of "Old Parr" whiskey was turned into a 100 USD profit on arrival. One of our fellow passengers bought up all he could and filled his van up with goodies. A few Indians, Pakistanis and Bengalis waited anxiously for friends who were apparently having problems clearing immigration. We walked into the centre of town. Our first impression; a total absence of English and not-so-modern surroundings. We found the right bus and headed out to a hitchhiking location. We wrote out our hitching sign and waited roadside before we decided it just didn't seem right. We set off for the Expressway a kilometer away and were greeted by signs all in Japanese. No English to be found anywhere! We didn't know where to start. We plunked ourselves in front of a likely tunnel. A truck driver who had stopped for a cold drink offered us a lift. Once in the cab, we discovered that we were headed in the opposite direction. We walked back and took the bus into town.

The two bus rides cost us 8 CDN. We watched the price shoot up on an electronic scoreboard. A recorded message indicated each stop as we approached it. At the front of the bus is a change machine that changes everything from a 50 yen coin to a 1,000 yen bill! Service oriented in very ordinary packaging (the bus was not new). Well, we eventually found our hitching spot in front of the toll plaza where we stood fruitlessly till 4:30 with our OSAKA sign. We walked back dejectedly and chanced upon a remote clearing below the hydro lines and put up our tent. Off we marched to buy groceries and then ate in a small park overlooking the narrow straits with a huge volume of ships passing through. There we ate macaroni and shared our privacy with a fisherman and a rubbie. If the Ontario Institute of Chartered Accountants could see me, they would strip my CA away at once! Our night was spent uneventfully cramped in our 2-man (2 Korean) tent. 

We awoke to continuing overcast skies and a few droplets of rain. We hurried down a bowl of instant noodles and set out for the toll booth. This time we set our sights on Yamaguchi and we were rewarded with a lift within a few minutes. We were let off at the Yamaguchi interchange. After two hours of waiting, I cursed myself for not requesting a drop off at a rest area rather than at an entrance ramp. ""another day like this and I'm' going back to Korea!"

Then it happened, a van stopped and yee Gods it was heading for Osaka, some 500 Kms away. From despair to a free ride to Osaka. Fortunes change ever so quickly. Our driver worked for a men's wear operation and was returning home after a circuit through Western Honshu. We communicated in broken English, winding through the mountainous countryside. The highway is an engineering marvel with its incredible network of tunnels, five of which were 3 kms long. During one 10 km stretch of road, we passed through 8 kms of tunnel. In between the mountain ranges we passed through small valleys where the world's richest peasant farmers cultivate rice. The plots were small. Transplanting is done by hand as is much of the work associated with rice cultivation. There wouldn't appear to be any room for such work in the world's most expensive country. An anomaly no doubt supported by government subsidies and protection. Our ride passed away. We plied our young driver with cigarettes and candies and we reached the outskirts of the giant metropolis of Osaka. Our friend's place is near the Ikeda interchange and we descended from the expressway into a maze of small streets. Alas, Shigeki was not at home when we called and our driver turned rather silly driving in circles looking for Shigeki's flat. We convinced him that we were perfectly capable of looking after ourselves and he reluctantly left us on the corner. We left him with a Canadian pin and a wrapped package of Marlboro cigarettes. 

Well, we waited on a bench. I had quickly located Shigeki's apartment and left a message there. Our prospects didn't look good. We were faced with either pitching our tent in an empty lot or by a small nearby temple. The supermarket closed. A fellow approached us and struck up a conversation. He was a doctor and understood that we were waiting for a friend. It seemed that he was about to invite us home when suddenly, our driver, the menswear salesman, from the afternoon appeared. The doctor assumed it was our friend and disappeared with his kids. Now suddenly we were in a mess. Our driver wanted to find us somewhere to stay. In that Japanese way, he had returned cross town to ensure that we had been looked after. It looked like the Youth Hostel would be an easy way out. But fortunately, they were either full or too far away (it was after 9:00pm and they were closing up). I tried to convince our driver friend that we would continue to wait for Shigeki, failing that we would camp. It was a mess. I hoped for Shigeki's arrival. Then it happened…the doctor reappeared and offered us dinner, so we all piled into his 4WD and off we went past all the bright lights of Osaka. Oh we laughed, what a crazy place. We went off to a simple bowl of ramen noodles and Kirin beer. The doctor asked for an invitation to visit us in Canada. His son would love it. "Oh, I will take you to a cheap hotel and I will pay for it!" he exclaimed. I thanked him for his generosity and muttered to Sheila "let's go with this!". So here we are in an airport hotel which probably costs 100USD. He is going to pick us up tomorrow to take us to Kyoto. It is a crazy place and I'm not sure what to make of it. Last night we slept in a tent in a field; tonight in an airport hotel. How sweet it is! 

 Takayama, June 20, 1986.

 We rest at last. It has been busy since I last wrote, but finally we are in pleasant surroundings with time to sleep and rest. 

Our first morning brought an abrupt end to the Doctor story. For breakfast, we ate our salami, lettuce and French bread which was to have been the previous day's lunch. We headed down to the lobby and watched Japanese cartoons. The Doctor arrived and we jumped into his 4WD. We dropped by Shigeki's flat, he was home and he joined us on our trip to Kyoto. The ride there was uneventful, we sat patiently through the busy Kyoto traffic, we stopped, we and our bags got out and that was the end. We had been 'transferred' to Shigeki's care. Nothing more, nothing less. 

And then there is Kyoto. It really is a magnificent place. It is a city of 1 ½ million complete with supermarkets, shopping malls, traffic and noise like everywhere in Japan. However off in the back streets and behind temple walls are Japanese scenes which have an ambiance of their own. 

At the Heian Shrine, we watched families line up with their newborn babies and the monks perform the equivalent of baptismal ceremonies, appealing to the spirits to protect the child. 

The Kiyomizu-dera Temple is reached by walking up a shop lined road. The area was humming with Sunday visitors. We passed by the wooden carvings of guards upto the main temple, a veritable hive of activity. Around the corner, people lined up to have their books or scrolls 'signed & stamped' by an official of the temple. There is apparently a temple circuit of 49 and 88 shrines. People collect the proof of visit and hang them proudly in their homes. It's a way to gain merit and reminded me of the Adirondak 49 club or even collecting coin sets at your local gas station.

 We headed back into Osaka with Shigeki on the Hankyu train line, one of the best buys in Japan. The modern train runs between Kyoto and Osaka some 50 kms away. It is a comfortable express run then a transfer on another express train to Ikeda; about 45 minutes of train travel for Y350 ($3 CDN) a real bargain. Japan has both a public rail service and many private lines. Although the trains are not particularly new or modern to look at, they are well run, fast and convenient. People line up at marked places; the doors always open at the same spot, so there isn't a wild rush to the doors. Platform attendants (pushers at times) wearing white gloves ensure a fairly orderly operation. When it gets crowded, there are gently firm pushes but once everyone is on, it is very orderly and I seemed to have personal space, perhaps tight by Western standards, but good by Asian standards. We will not take the Shinkansen (bullet train) as it is expensive but it is a joy to watch as it floats through the countryside at over 200km/hr. 

Shigeki lives in a 4 ½ tatami mat apartment measuring about 3 meters square. Roomy for one, although somewhat crowded with three. Typically, there are NO shower facilities in the building. So it was off to the sento (bath-house). Admission price is Y200. After disrobing, I headed for the baths. It was busy. There are five different types of baths; all more or less interconnected. We washed up  before a soaking in one of; a deep pool (very hot!), a shallow pool, bubble pool, herbal pool and an electric pool! I put my hand in the electric pool and found the experience somewhat akin to putting my hand in an electric socket. After I was overheating (almost ready to explode) I slipped into the ice (or so it seemed) cold bath. Judging from the signals received, my body didn't appreciate the temperature extremes. However it was relaxing and was followed by a shower, or a Japanese version thereof. I sat on a plastic stool and bathed using a shower head and a small plastic basin which I filled with hot and cold water. To my left were Japanese who scrubbed and scrubbed. We don't think much about how we wash; it is a ritual of sorts in every culture. I was suddenly conscious of my washing habits while amongst people feverishly trying to rub their skin off! ? Although I felt comfortable, I was nonetheless aware of a gentle murmur of "gaijin" or foreigner. As always, I wonder who is looking at whom.

We took a day trip into Osaka and left my crushed camera lens at a Minolta service centre. Typical of Japan, they loaned me another lens for the interim period. Osaka is the 2nd largest city in Japan. There are few tall buildings, plenty of unimpressive streets, hardly any greenery, neat little laneways, shrines, restaurants, shopping areas and of course pachinko halls, the Japanese pinball/slot machine game. It seems to require little skill, makes a lot of noise and requires plenty of money. They are packed with people. Total complete mindlessness! Shigeki has been playing a great deal as he isn't working at present. He sometimes sits inside the hall for 5 hours, losing Y10,000 one day and winning Y6,000 the next. Japanese Madness. "Electronic City" is a strip of road in Osaka where the sell everything electronic in every shape, colour and size. Not cheap, but plenty of selection.

 It is certainly a different way of traveling from the rest of Asia! In Rangoon, we eat at the Strand but in Japan, it's free bread crust and peanut butter!

Our second day in Kyoto was in drizzle. The rain didn't dampen our spirits but rather added to the majestic beauty of the Higashi Honganji temple, the gardens and lines of the Imperial Palace and the greenery of the Nijo castle. Another successful day and four very tired feet. 

Rather than push on for destinations unknown, we opted for anther day in Kyoto to marvel not at a building, but 15 rocks and some gravel. They were ordinary, but their arrangement made it into a rock garden. It's an arrangement of 15 rocks in groups of various sizes on a bed of grey-white gravel that is raked daily in a set pattern. But it is more than a garden; it is a microcosm of the entire universe. Although physically small and limited, it is mentally incredibly vast with no boundaries. It is simple, requiring no words to convey its limitless message; it is Zen, it is absolute. Not only is it peaceful, it's also very photogenic. 

Yesterday we set out, looking for adventure with hope and some anxiety. We waited a mere 15 minutes outside of Kyoto, an hour at Komachi Junction and 5 seconds along Highway 41. A successful day spent communicating in basic English, some Japanese, watching the countryside. The Japanese road system reminds me of Britain; it's slow. Aside from a few toll expressways, the remainder is slow, traffic littered and has a 60kmh maximum. A large part of our journey felt like driving through one long continuous city; there is no countryside! Up here in the north, it's mountains (more like hills) and plenty of greenery.

Takayama is a pleasant town with plenty of shrines, old houses, tourist stores and hillsides (we are camped on one of them). Now, we sit on the porch of an old temple. There are few visitors and it is tranquil. The wooden boards, pine trees, sliding doors, rice paper walls, tiled roofs, it's all so Japanese.

Miyajima, June 25, 1986. 

The grey clouds whiz by. The blue sky is clearly visible. Perhaps the rain has ended. It rained this morning , it rained yesterday and boy, did it rain the night before last.

It began to rain when we jumped into a truck outside Takayama. Conversation, as usual, was minimal with the diriver and he was very kind. In typical Japanese fashion, he dropped us off at our destination, the Tagata shrine. It's a shinto shrine dedicated to fertility. We trudged up to the shrine in the drizzle and a Shinto priest greeted us with a grin from ear to ear and welcomed us with his "small english". The shrine was a wealth of dildos in all shapes and sizes-some of rock but mostly of wood. The shrine is best known for a festival in which a huge wooden penis is paraded throught the streets. Must be a funny sight! Although we appreciate the creative power of the universe (we have visited our share of Siva temples with the lingam displayed), we couldn't help but find the shrine amusing. The Shinto priest made a present of some candy with the imprint of a penis on it and we set off in the drizzle for the female counterpart shrine nearby.

A car pulled off the road and offered an unsolicited lift which was gladly accepted. The Oagata shrine was similar in concept to the Tagata shrine with fewer carvings. 

On our way out, a man approached us and offered us a ride to the train station. We jumped into the car and before we knew it, we were at the Osaka castle. They paid for our admission, then took us for coffee and finally to a sushi dinner! It was one of our most enjoyable meals, and for that matter, evenings. He worked so very hard, using english which he had learned in school some 30 years earlier. We all had a good time. We sat in a room with sliding doors, rice paper partition walls around a Japanese style table. There, we enjoyed beer, a seafood custard as hors-doevre, then loads of raw seafood accompanied with a shellfish soup, rice and pickles. It was washed down with a slice of watermelon. We were overwhelmed by their generosity. They dropped us off, late, at the Youth Hostel. We found it full and camped nearby in the woods; it didn't rain that night

Somewhere between Japan and Korea, June 26, 1986. 

There's a slight pitch to the ferry, the bath water spills over, a group of Japanese drink their duty free whiskey, a foreigner pitches his well-used umbrella into the sea and a staff member checks the area. We are on our way to Korea. Our Japan visit is complete. It came to a frantic finish.. Before I recount the ending episode, and those final duty-free beers, there is the story of the French speaking Japanese lady, the sukiyaki dinner and the deer who ate my guide book and the final page of my diary. Tomorrow we head for the Pusan-Seoul expressway with or thumbs extended and perhaps a Korean story...

We awoke the following morning after our sumptuous sushi dinner in a forest and made our way to the Kiso river and the small city of Inuyama. "Inu" means dog and "yama" mountain, of course. We set up on a park bench along the banks of the, yet another famous Japanese, river. We pulled out our Korean stove and cooked up coffee to accompany our "pan no mimi" (crusts of the bread). A jogger passed. I Heated up some water and shaved. A woman observed us. She approached us and spoke a few words of a language which I didn't immediately recognize. I asked her to repeat it. Yes it was French! How extraordinary. A French speaking local! The jogger approached us. They all would like our company and offered to drive us around the area for a Sunday morning tour. We accepted of course. While we waited for them to reappear in a car, a Sikh sauntered along the boardwalk. He wore his hotel slippers, meant only for the bathroom. He spoke to us, after the obligatory greetings, he asked us at once "how much money have you spent?". He was on a 6 week training course, direct from India and he bemoaned the cost of living (and called the Japanese "sticky"). Our Japanese hosts arrived and we wished our Indian friend well and jumped into the car for a tour of the local lake, golf course and nature area. We spoke French to the woman and her son. They had lived in Belgium and welcomed the opportunity to exercise their foreign language. It was a weird and interesting morning capped by a Japanese lunch before we set out for Osaka. Where else but Japan can opportunities arise from merely sitting on a park bench?

We returned to Shigeki's 4 1/2 tatami apartment. He was just beginning his noodle soup dinner and bemoaned his Pachinko losses. We slopped out to do grocery shopping and returned. His neighbor knocked on the door and invited us all to a sukiyaki dinner that we quickly accepted. We quickly did our laundry and then went to the Sento (bath-house). We returned to a crowded apartment for dinner. Seven of us surrounded a small table and ate beef, vegetables, mushrooms and tofu with chopsticks. Two of Shigeki's friends had joined us and we talked of the world and differences in education systems.

In Japan, the youth are subjected to a rigid, conformist environment in their youth. Schoold kids wear uniforms and are subjected to a rigorous, rigid process. The pressure is intense. Parents, society and peers exert tremendous pressure to succeed and to gain admittance to university, thereby fulfilling their parents wishes. Once in university, students suddenly relax as straight "A" students or original thinkers are not in demand. Companies want good workers, not necessarily good thinkers. The system works, held together by their traditional society, but there are cracks. High school suicides get considerable media attention.

The following morning, I made a quick trip into Osaka City to pick up my camera  from Minolta service centre. Then we stood by the toll plaza of the expressway with umbrella's in hand. Whereas in North America, rain spells doom for the prospective hitchhiker, in Japan, it can result in immediate rescue. Sometimes, the Japanese can't bear the sight of a poor visitor in the rain. We traveled 400kms in four hours and broke our journey at the Hiroshima interchange. Although it was raining, we decided to camp at the service area rather than spend $25 on a hostel in the city. It was a miserable night as we were subjected to heavy rains. 

Hiroshima, the city of peace was completely annihilated by "Little Boy" at 8:15, August 6, 1945. the Peace Memorial Museum bears proof of the destruction and suffering of that act of war. Half of the city's population died. Few builidings were left standing. Many school children and other Japanese pay homage to those who died. The A-Bomb building has been left in its original destroyed condition as a symbol of destruction. 

I found Hiroshima to be a symbol of Japanese and humankind's ability to rebuild something from ashes, to a vibrant living city. Even the castle that was completely destroyed in 1945 has been rebuilt. Many Japanese historical sites have been rebuilt or reconstructed; symbols of Japan's enormous cultural wealth that co-exists with the modern technological environment. It is a sign of cultural strength and is nice to see, compared to some other places that leave its cultural heritage behind in their search for materialistic gains.

We arrived at Miyajima, a touristic island near Hiroshima that evening. It is dotted with shrines and has been a place of pilgrimage for centuries. It poured We waited. The rain stopped. I searched for a campsite and found two. I returned to the ferry terminal where two American travelers there also found the cheapest alternative accommodation available for 9,000 Yen for two. We camped on a brilliant spot of land overlooking the Inland Sea. Herons flew overhead, a fox sniffed around our camp and it didn't rain that night.

The following day, we shifted location to our first bonafide campground of the trip (Y300) and then watched the rain. E set out to admire some of the many shrines and temples in our raingear. That evening, we bedded down after the proverbial noodle and tofu dinner. We were awakened by sounds in the night. Miyajima boasts a huge deer population. Without predators, they are quite "tame", often pests. One of the deer had opened the zipper on my backpack and had pulled out our guidebook and my diary. It had apparently nibbled on my diary but seemed to find the guidebook more to its taste. We settled down while Sheila made comments as to how the deer had found my journal to be in poor taste. I was not amused.

Our final day in Japan was a little crazy. Our first lift got somewhat lost and dropped us off miles from where we had expected. The second lift featured a fellow in disco clothes and a very fast car (a yakuza or gangster). The police pulled us over (we were not speeding at the time) and escorted us to the local cop shop. Our driver disappeared inside, never to be seen again. We turned the car engine off and we left after an hour of waiting. Our final lift was with two women who were concerned that we might miss the ferry (we had intended to catch the ferry on the following day). We jumped aboard, waving at our kind driver with only minutes to spare.

Japan was quite a journey. We had met tourists that had been disappointed with Japan, but we were elated with the experience. We saw it as one of the places where they have integrated their ancient culture into the modern world. It was fun.