See The World

with BILL'S EYES

Sunday today and we expect the village to be quieter and the shops do not open until late in the morning. That is of no consequence to us as we are taking our time to do our thing today as it is the last day of trekking along the Nakasendo trail. The map shows a flat walking route of about 3 kilometres, and we are partly glad and partly sad that our trekking adventure is coming to an end. 

A sumptuous breakfast awaits, and we now realise that we can survive on the wide array of vegetables that comprise breakfast in Japan, so we dig in early that morning but know we will not exert ourselves too much during the day.

We pack our backpacks easily as the prior days have been instructive about what should go where and what folds best and worst. There is still too much in our packs, and we have learned the hard way that less is best.

The village folk are out on a Sunday morning walk with no tourists in sight except for us. We had yet to explore the trail beyond our Ryokan, so we set off in the opposite direction to that in which we arrived. The village houses continue to catch my attention and imagination. The houses along the village street are all constructed of wood; the walls are wood, the window frames are wooden, the doors are wood, and the windows are small or consist of multiple square or rectangular sub-frames. The rooves of each house extend over the front of the homes but only provide minimal shelter, and many of the homes are two stories, but very few have a second-floor balcony to the front of the building. Note that I mention the second floor since, in Japan, the ground floor is always Floor 1. This confused us in the many shops we visited in the large cities with F1, F2, F3, … displayed on the elevator buttons. So F1 is where the shop matches the street level.

 
I have included in the photos a drawing of the village houses during the Edo period, and many of the houses look much the same today. Well done to the villages and the Japanese for preserving these historical links to a past period.

 
We knew from our research that there are many temples in this village, but the one we had sought out was at the top end of the village street. We walked an easy 500 or 600 meters, and the tall bright red Tori Gate was hard to miss. The temple also included some buildings also painted in bright red; presumably, those buildings were used for worship and contemplation. We have much to learn about Japanese culture but have yet to understand their religious beliefs. It was Sunday, and there was no activity to be seen, so Sunday may not be a specific day for worship or contemplation.

 
We retrace our steps and take more pictures as it is hard to take a bad one, and I know we will enjoy looking back on them in the years ahead. The trail soon takes us past a fast-flowing river with thick foliage occupying each bank. There are a few bridges to walk across, but they are substantial and intended to support people, push bikes, and motorbikes as they travel between villages along this well-used trail. As we cross one of the bridges, we see that the thick foliage has thinned out and standing on some rocks is a fisherman trying his luck to catch lunch or dinner. We observe him for some time as we amble along the trail but do not see the line go taught with the tantalising prospect of a fish fighting to escape ending up in a frying pan or being sliced and diced for sushi.


We walk into the last village of our trail experience, and it is less pretty than the others we have been to, but we want to explore it and find the train station. We walk an extra kilometre or so, as we have lost our way and venture almost aimlessly along a path located behind the village houses (aimless because we think we know where we are going, however where we are does not look like anything it should, which is a train station). Our lost state is apparent to a very old gentleman who is tending to a vegetable garden plot behind his home. He waves to us and makes his way along a dirt path, speaking Japanese to us. We cannot understand what he is saying, but we can see he is trying to help us. He knows some English words, but we cannot put them together, so we start to hand wave and use crude sign language to communicate that we are looking for the train station. The translating device is flat (one of the many things to keep charging), so that is useless to us this time. He is trying to help, and we appreciate his efforts. Eventually, he walks back along the dirt path to the rear of his home and waves us to follow him. We are still determining what is happening, but we decide to continue along the path behind all the houses and are sure we will get back on track once we come across the main street. We tried to communicate that we were fine and grateful for his attempt to help us; we were not sure what our flailing arms and hands meant to him, but we were genuinely thankful.


We find the main street, but we think Google Maps will guide us to the station, and so it does, by taking us along another roadway on the other side of the main street, which is replete with backyards. Certainly not very picturesque but functional for our walking for today ends almost too abruptly as the train station, at which we need to be by 1:55 am on the dot, is in our sights. We are early, so we look for a restroom and a shop to purchase some nibbles but cannot find the latter. A small wooden shelter is next to the line, and we wait inside. I have time to reflect on our trekking and know that it will always be a fond memory, and I will always be grateful to Lee for agreeing to take herself out of her comfort zone and join me along the Nakasendo Trail.


As expected, the train arrives on time and leaves on time, and we are on our way to a major city and a luxurious Roykan that Lee has specially chosen to celebrate the end of our trail experience. The train station of Matsumoto is busy, and it seems very strange to be amongst the hustle and bustle of a Japanese city. We did not know exactly where the Roykan was or how long it took to walk there, so we decided to take a taxi. Lee has prepared her notes, and we use Google to translate the name and address of the Roykan for the taxi driver. All the taxis we have used in Japan are very clean, and most use doily-like material coverings over the front and rear seats. I cannot help but think it is not very masculine for the mainly male drivers we have encountered. Still, it is practical as the covers are likely easy to remove and clean, making for a homely environment for the driver who no doubt spends most of their waking day in the vehicle. The driver winds their way through what seems to be the city's back streets, and then suddenly, we are right next to a castle and its extensive grounds. We will visit it soon, but it was good to see it as we made our way to the Roykan.


The Roykan is very posh as the entrance hall is cavernous, and the tea supplied to us is welcome as we are booked in by a very young lady who speaks English very well. However, I am still wondering what they think of us, as we are still in our trekking gear, and our backpacks seem incongruous with the Gucci luggage stacked neatly beside other guests. We are soon ushered to our huge room, and we become very comfortable very soon. There is a massage chair that has every conceivable pushing and prodding mechanism available at a touch. Lee is convinced we need one at home, and we are soon looking up the model and manufacturer on Amazon. Wow, they are pricey and only available in Japan, so that purchase will not happen. The room also has its own Onsen, so knowing it will be nice hot water and comfortable to soak in, I am soon enjoying a relaxing bathing experience, looking through the slats that protect my privacy but provide a restricted view of the city in the distance and other high-rise accommodation as we are on F5 and a lovely dinner awaits.


What a great way for us to finish our Nakasendo trail experience.