The next morning, we grab a quick
breakfast and get to the bus station early so we can double check our
directions. Three days ago, in Tokyo, we decided to go to this
“little out of the way Onsen” that was mentioned in passing in
the guidebook. “Romantic” and “traditional” and $2000 a
night, as most of them are. At that point they faxed to us
directions on how to get there, in Japanese. Our hostel's desk clerk
was kind enough to translate for us, and ever since this has been our
golden ticket, kept safe alogn with passports and cash money. Take
such and such a train to such and such a city. Take such and such a
bus at such and such a time to the so-and-so stop. Get off, take a
taxi to the hotel. Exact times and fares were fortunately written in
western script with the now famliar Kanji for Yen and time.
So, before we got on some random bus,
we figured we'd have someone else read the Kanji and double-check the
translation. The tourist office person was very helpful, pulling bus
timetables and a detailed map of the region (these towns are most
certainly not on the standard give-away tourist map). Suddenly she
gets to the place in the directions that say “take a taxi to the
hotel”... “OH! You're going to Lamp No Yado!”, she says very
excitedly. “You've heard of it?” Susan asks. “Oh yes, this
place is very famous!”.
So, turns out we probably could have
gotten new directions had we needed them. Susan buys our tickets,
and a questioning look from the clerk (why would a Gaijin go to this
little town in the middle of nowhere) prompts Susan to offer “We're
going to Lamp No Yado!” “Oh, I've always wanted to go there”
is the envious response. Susan is beaming when she comes back with
the tickets and tells me the story.
The bus ride is very beautiful. This
part of Japan is quite rural, and the route takes us along the Sea of
Japan, inland through rolling hills and rice-paddy fields with large,
old homes.
We get to Suzu. Is this our stop? No,
we're supposed to be the end of the line, and people aren't getting
off. We get to Suzu. Is this our stop? No, we're supposed to be
the end of the line. We get to Suzu – um, are you sure this isn't
our stop? No the driver knows where we're gettng off. He does? But
we switched drivers at the big bus station half-way along. A
panicked look from Susan. We get to Suzu. Fortunately this little
stop IS the end of the line, and we should have remembered the lesson
of two days ago. Everything here runs on time, not late, but nor
early. Four stops in Suzu, all about 1 minute from each other, but
the one at 13:13 is ours. Scheduled arrival time? 13:13.
We get some help calling a cab. The
driver is friendly, pointing our the “Sakura” along the way (who
could miss them?). The cab is immaculate. There to the right;
Sakura. To the left; Sakura (he makes an exploding gesture with his
hands to emphasize that they are in full bloom. There, to the left,
down the impossibly steep cliff; your hotel.
