Flummoxed Goatee

Oops! This was supposed to come BEFORE the Takamatsu blab. Sorry. PTKD - Post Traumatic Kyoto Disorder. All will be explained in good time.

 Disillusionment: a feeling of disappointment resulting from the discovery that something is not as good as one believed or hoped it to be.

In my case, that usually includes a good dose of wholly unrealistic expectations combined with a childlike (and not a “cute, good” childlike - more of an infantile asshole childlike) reaction when things don’t work out the way I intended. Luckily, it doesn’t happen too often, but when it does…

Unfortunately, the Iya Valley has been The Perfect Storm. I’ll try to explain and you can decide whether to feel sympathetic (“Oh, poor baby! Anyone would be devastated by that series of unfortunate events”) or otherwise (“Ya big fucking baby! Things not work out absolutely perfectly all day every day? Boo hoo!”)

Let me begin by saying that I freely admit I did have absolutely unrealistic expectations. Based on what I’d read and seen, I was literally expecting to stumble on a modern day Shangri-La. Idyllic scenery, untouched by modernization, communing with nature, sweeping vistas, blah, blah, blah. That’s where the heartache began.

First of all, the drive was , let’s just say, “unpleasant”. And from me, that’s saying something. My sincerest apologies to Google Maps (and, of course Chad) because it took the drive here to make me realize just how many roads are teeny-tiny, hair-raising, one-lane disasters-waiting-to-happen.

Confidence inspiring

As hard as it might be to believe (and as you’ll soon see), there were even narrower, worse roads than these, but there was no way I was taking my hands off the wheel for those lest I either smash into a rock wall or plunge off a precipitous cliff to the valley far below.

When I finally got here, I could tell right away we weren’t talking Grand Canyon.

“Ah well,” I thought.” Not perfect, but nice. Let’s go see the famous hidden vine bridges I’ve read so much about. That’ll make me feel better.”

Onward and upward. Suddenly, I notice that Google Maps is saying they may be closed. Not possible, but in any case, no way I’m turning back now. So close, I round a corner and…

Sacré bleu ! It’s true. Too far to walk (5km), I turn and head back to the car. But wait! Another car approaches and disgorges three official looking men, who begin dismantling the barrier. Then up the hill come the two tour buses I passed in the village. They sail through. Halleluiah! Victory snatched from the jaws of defeat. I rush over to the men, frantically waving and gesticulating to indicate my desire to tag along. Not a fucking chance, loser. One of them crosses his arms in a big X while his buddies reconstruct the barrier. By now I’m pleading, but they are made of stone. A rule is a rule is a rule.

“Cocksuckers!” I yell, simultaneously hoping they do and don’t understand English.

Okay, I get it. Liability, strange old guy, etc. But c’mon man! And made much worse by that oh-so-brief moment of hope, crushed beneath the jack-booted heels of those fascist pigs.

Heartbroken, I realize I have no choice. I must carry on. So I head back down the hill to Nagaro, the famous “Scarecrow Village” where dolls outnumber the people. Interesting story. Ayano Tsukimi is an artist who grew up in Nagoro, moved to Osaka and then returned to care for her aging father. She made her first doll, resembling her father, to use as an actual scarecrow. As people passed away, she would make dolls commemorating them. While the population is now less than 40, the dolls number in the hundreds. It’s a great story and the dolls are truly amazing, but I found it somewhat surreal and disconcerting walking around without seeing a single living being.

Cute but creepy

Well alright. Let’s look on the bright side. I’m batting .500. And I still have time hit the more touristy, but undoubtedly impressive Iya-no Kazurabashi vine bridge. I’m on a roll. 

The bridge, as it turns out, is a good news, bad news scenario. 

The good news: it’s pretty impressive

The bad news: it’s right smack dab in the middle of town. Can’t have everything, as I’m quickly learning 

I did make it across, in spite of my humiliating vertigo making a not unsurprising appearance, but it wasn’t pretty. At least I didn’t squeal like a little girl.

Time to check in to Sunriver Oboke, my home for the next two days (extra day because the Iya Valley is going to be so frickin’ awesome).

Whoa! Back up the truck. This can’t possibly be it. This is some sort of factory. It’s in the middle of nowhere, beside the  highway and a train runs right by it.

Cute train, but still…

Interesting bathroom ergonomics

And it gets worse. Breakfast is going to be $22 and dinner $60 - although thank God, I finally understand that there’s a cheaper alternative. Gotta get the breakfast (again - shades of Sharon’s). More on that to come. Since the receptionist seems so cheery and helpful, I decide to ask about super duper hikes nearby. We are, after all, in the Okobe Gorge. 

“Well,” she stammers, “ if you were here in the summer you could hike in the mountains. But not now. Now you can only walk around here.”

She hauls out and unfolds  a giant map, circles where we are and shows me where I can walk along the river.

Here’s the scenic path. Getting away from it all

And that’s it for my first day in Heaven.

Up bright and early the next morning . Time for a nourishing and expensive breakfast. I’m going to pause here and let you know that I’ve already had quite a few hotel breakfasts and it has not worked out well for me. As far as I can gather, the Japanese idea behind this meal seems to be,”Let’s eat dinner food but we’ll eat it cold.” For example, here’s a complimentary breakfast I received at a high-end hotel:

I really got the feeling this was considered a gourmet meal, but first thing in the morning?

And here’s a sampling of what was available to eat this morning:

The two most important things to note are:

1. This is breakfast

2. Everything you see here is cold

Of course there were also eggs - raw or runny - as well as stews, soups, curry and chicken (all cold as well). Luckily, I found some bread, rolls, butter and honey and proceeded to monopolize the toaster oven for the next ten minutes. $22 well spent.

With no walking options available, I decided I would drive to two “attractions” I hadn’t gotten around to yesterday. First Ochiai Village, another “authentic” town perched on a mountainside, and then Hi-no-Ji Bend, a scenic overlook of the valley. Off I go and within minutes:

If anyone had told me that I would encounter these conditions again, I would definitely have called “bullshit”, but there you go. And not just your everyday, run of the mill snowstorm. No siree. How about a little hail to spice things up a bit? Unfuckingbelievable.

Well, I had an entire day to fill and I was going to see those sights. And here they are. Impressive, no?

And here’s what I had to do to get there:

Honestly, if you lay across this road you’d be hanging over both sides. And there is absolutely NOWHERE  to turn around.

I think the epitome of my experience here can be summed up best by another famous landmark.

Oh, the irony of it all

So there you have it. I believe Henry Wadsworth Longfellow summed up my time here best:

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.

Thanks Hank. I feel better already.

Serenity now.

Japanese Fun Facts

Let’s talk malls. No, not the malls you know and love, although they do have plenty of them here. I’m not sure how they did it, but somehow they’ve created indoor-outdoor malls.

I have no idea how they did this. I suspect the buildings were already there and they built the roof over the street but it’s hard to tell. In any case, they’re everywhere and they go on for blocks and blocks and not just in a straight line. Oh no. There are intersecting roofs at various points. It’s like a city within a city.

Shopping the Japanese way.