Turning 30 – Part Two

Overnight On Shirahama
…turned 30. I’ll have to say about this age milestone at a later date but for this moment I entered a new decade of life, feet in the Pacific and looking westward thinking of what I could remember of the last 30 years, thinking of my family, daughter and friends and just letting the waves wash over me like they did the now vanished number 29 back on the shore. I stood there for a long time, my feet become prunes reeking of salt water, just looking out at the water now blackened by the midnight sky. Feeling the white sand clinging to my wet feet I walked back up to my camp eyeing the vending machines across the boardwalk. Everything was silent now and the beach was empty for the moment. I purchased a can of 7-Up from the machine and returned to my spot under the umbrella tree drinking down the can in nearly a single gulp. The bubbles burned as they went down. I guess you could say I meditated out there under that tree. 30 years is a lot of life to think about. I often would spy those glowing red lightsaber like sticks of the police, or in this case beach patrol, in the distance. Each time the patrollers neared I was sure I was going to get kicked off the beach but each time they passed by. When other people started trickling on and off the beach shortly after 1am I figured I was pretty safe. I was no longer alone, though, and wouldn’t be for the remainder of my time there. Couples found spots to engage in a little ocean-side romance and patches of people would show up periodically and shoot off more fireworks. The red sticks would chase them away but they would only find a spot farther up along the shore and fire more lights out above the ocean. Deciding it was now time for rest and no liking the looks of the male gangs that were roaming about the boardwalk I took out the pen knife to hide in my shoe…just in case. Todd, you must have really spent some time sharpening that blade because as I was folding it back in it came rushing down and sunk into the tip of my middle finger. I didn’t feel any pain. This worried me. I had read of people who had lost limbs that didn’t realize they had done so due to the lack of feeling. Had I just cut off the top of my finger? I looked down and all I saw was blood, not a gusher but enough to worry me. Thankfully underneath that blood my finger tip was in tact and it turned out to only be semi-deep cut. With no idea where a hospital might be, and realizing this didn’t really need such treatment anyway, I wrapped on of my socks around the wound as a makeshift tourniquet and went to sleep.






























Morning On Shirahama
There was not much sleep to be had. With the fireworks and the couples and the conversations from morning beach groupies I managed to maybe steal about three hours of slumber before finally staying up for good come 7am. I was coated in sand. I had sand in places where I didn’t even know I had places. There should be plenty of beach for everyone when I get back. You can shave a bit off my inner left butt cheek. I dusted off my clothes and towel as best as I could watching pails of sand fall from them. The beach was already crowded. The weather was much better then it had been yesterday, the sun beaming, and I packed up my camp and headed out to the white rocks that formed a pier of sorts into the Pacific and finding a spot in clear view I dropped my back and headed out for a morning swim. Now I have swam in salt water before but this was SALT water, all capitals and eye stinging, mouth puckering salt water. I waded in slowly off the rocks which was a bad idea. The rocks were slipper and one misstep later and I was sliding down, toes scrapping, into the water. Damn, that was cold! This area was very shallow. If I stood on my toes I was able to keep my head above the water. All around the rocks swam tropical fish. At least I think they were tropical fish. They were multicolored rainbow fish, anyway. Kids with goggles and snorkels dove under trying to catch them. I swam from the shore to the rocks and then back again avoiding all types of beach toys and flotation devices. I did take a couple of water shots from madly swimming children though. Salt water mixing with sweat is not a good brew.



The water was nice and refreshing despite the saltiness and I stayed out there for an hour or so before returning to the rocks to cool off. In doing so I would acquire the lobster red skin I now painfully live in. Why didn’t I purchase some Coppertone? Soon the rocks became crowded and people were stepping over me to get to the water.





I packed up and walked down the boardwalk stopping into the Lawson store to pick up some breakfast which I would bring out with me to an isolated pier on the other side of the beach I’d found on my walk yesterday. From here you could see a popular rock formation out in the water. In the middle of it was a near perfect hole created by the waves and the passing of time. You could take a boat tour through the hole if you wanted to, sexual isn’t it? It was pretty hazy out there so visibility wasn’t very great. I sat on the pier and drank my coffee and ate a Danish watching a mother and her son hunting for crabs. This area was half sand and half shells and the duo dug about with nets and small shovels. What they caught would go in a plastic aquarium. I had passed a large beast crab on my way to my resting spot and I pointed it out to them. I guess they were only looking the smaller variety because they passed it up. Then again the thing wasn’t moving so maybe it was dead. I spent some time after breakfast collecting some shells, finding some nice ones, before deciding to make the trip back down the main road to revisit some of the sites from yesterday. On the way to the cliffs I visited a small temple which is said to house some sort of God of fertility. Couples come here to pray for children. Hopefully the kids don’t turn out looking like the masks found above one of the shrines. Yikes!











The Senjojiki Cliffs – Part 2
With better daylight photos of these cliffs turned out much better today. The tradeoff, though, was that there was a shitload more people on these rocks and trying to crop them out of my shots was a near impossibility. I didn’t stay long this time as my hours were dwindling. If I wanted to make it back to Nara before seven I would have to take the 2:18 bus back into Osaka. Considering how long it took to get here I was willing to bet that the three hour predicted travel time was a large undershooting. Senjojiki was much better cast in bright sun and the brown and white colors of the rocks reflected the light. The crowds were centralized once again at the base of the rocks or at the top. An old man stood out on the jagged rocks and fished bringing to mind images of the popular Hemmingway tale.















The Sandanbeki Cliffs – Part 2
Sandanbeki was less crowded. Maybe everybody was in that pirate cave. Yesterday I had found that the building housing the cave tours and elevator had a free internet connection. I had send a message out to all of you yesterday overlooking the ocean from the top of the cliff and today I sat and read some of your birthday wishes as the big waves crashed into the rocks below. Thank you all for your words. Celebrating a birthday alone, even in such beautiful surroundings, is…well, lonely and reading your birthday wishes brought you all a little closer to me. Thank you for that. I spent a half-hour walking along the cliffs today going further out then I had on the previous days walk. I walked until I couldn’t walk anymore, a large divide between cliff and ocean stopping me. Looking down from the edge was enough to induce vertigo. I stood on the edge of this beautiful spot, better then yesterday, as the waves were much higher and thunderous when they hit the rocks. Nature at it’s best right here on the rugged coast of Japan.





I climbed up to the highest point I could find, clambering along the rocks, until I stood above it all…king of the world! I suddenly missed Ireland and Cape Breton and realized that though I don’t have a stomach for being on the actual water living near the ocean when I head out west is going to be great. I see beach swims, more coastal walks and maybe with a couple Graval in me another kayaking excursion. I could have stayed out on those cliffs all day. The ocean air and mist from the water was refreshing in the intense heat and the view was nothing short of spectacular but, alas, there was a bus to catch and so with my pack over my back I hit the road back into town.

Bussing It Back To Osaka
With a bit more time left I returned to the beach for one last shoreline walk before heading to the bus terminal. Not being able to read the signs I was unsure where the bus stop was and a heavyset man speaking very loudly in Japanese pointed me in the right direction…I think. He could have very well told me to go to hell. The bus pulls in right on schedule and am seated one seat in front of where I had sat on my way here. I have a momentary flash of needing to go to the bathroom, I look back at the room with less then fond memories and decide it can wait until the next rest stop. Having not managed much sleep last night I decide to use this bus time to catch up. I was able to work in a good hour until a loud slapping on the empty seat next to mine woke me up. It was the guy in the seat across the way. He must have just boarded and with him his entire family because all the seat around him were now filled up with kids in matching shirts. He explained to me that I was in his son’s seat. Really, I wanted to ask, what did it matter? Wouldn’t it have been better to have him sit closer to all of you as opposed to having me in between. I stood up and let him in. This kid must have been the black sheep of the bunch because whereas his siblings had white matching shirts his shirt was black. Over the course of the ride his parents and siblings would pass food and drinks over to him always interrupting my sleep attempts. Hey, you know what might have solved this problem? If you’d have had your kid take the aisle seat, assholes! Oh, but the kid managed to get a lot of sleep…on my shoulder. He kept crashing into me, his heavy head slamming into my arm and each time I pushed him off he’d smack right back down again until finally I gave him a harder shove towards the window where he finally stayed put on the seat cushion. Sleeping on a bus is hard enough without a kid banking into you but factor in that robotic female voice each stop and I just gave up. I took out my travel guide and started to read watching the time tick on by on the clock above the driver. Traffic was worse then it had been on the way in and it would take five hours to make it back to Osaka. It was nearing seven and I wasn’t on schedual. To those of you who know how detailed my planning can be you will understand how much I hate being off schedual. There was a momentary debate in the station on whether or not to just abandon the Nara aspect of this trip altogether. I was sun burnt, sand burnt, the bugs had feasted on me in the night and I itched, I was tired, my hair was a matted mess of sand and salt water and I still couldn’t hear well out of my right ear. All this and I started to feel sick to my stomach from the bus motion on the city’s heavy turns. A few more hours wasn’t going to kill me and the air conditioning on the train eased my burns and sickness and forty-five minutes later we were pulling into Nara.
















Nara Lights
From August 5th to the 14th Nara gets the jump on Obon (more on this later) by illuminating the city with thousands of lanterns in what is called Nara Light Up. Flocks of disappointed hippies, joints in hand, are turned away each year confused over the title of the festival. It was bound to be a popular scene from the crowded train there. Having not had anything to eat since the Danish and coffee that morning (it was now just passed seven) I visited one of the better restaurants near the station that offered take-out. As they prepare your meal you are given the royal treatment as you are sat in the comfortable waiting area with fans cooling you off and racks of magazines to read if you could understand them. Pretty pictures, though. A pretty waitress brings you a cup of tea and staff keep returning to ask if you would like anything else. Very nice hospitality in this place. My meal, a lunchbox of fried items, rice and pickles, was handed over to me with a nice smile and words of thanks and with the bottle of cold tea I’d purchased at the grocery store next to the station I started out towards my usual Nara night eating spot. The road to the Nara Pagoda and adjacent temple was flanked by lanterns placed down every two feet or so. I noticed that all the streetlights were turned off. Haunting. Lunch under the stars was a crowded affair. Hoards of people had come into the city for this and it wasn’t hard to see why. The effect created by the lanterns all over the temple complex here was gorgeous. Along with the ones placed in straight lines on both sides of the walking path they had them on the steps of the old temple site as well as the circling the buildings around the complex. After supper I followed the lanterns into the park, the deer out in full force looking for handouts, and it was festival time alright. Dozens of merchant tents had been set up selling the food and souvenirs. There were also displays of period costumes at some of the tents and people selling DVDs of popular Japanese performance arts. The lanterns in the park were like illuminated dominos stretching out all over as the paths branched off. I walked around the park with no real direction, just strolling there amongst the lantern glow until I eventually found the small pavaillion I’d discovered a few months ago. Today is was light up by spotlights, more lanterns and on the pond floated small boats bearing more lanterns, these ones larger then the ones in the park. The effect was magical, the stuff you see in the movies, and over some speakers played old Japanese music. This was romance and if every I wished I had a girl with me it was now. I’d invite her into one of those boats, have her sit by the red lantern glow and paddle her around the pond as the Japanese music played around us. The dozen lanterns on the pond were like oversized fireflies. Slowly the lanterns were being put out as the night of viewing was coming to and end and I walked down one of the last remaining paths of glowing orange on my way back to the station. Although this scene was beautiful I was happy to be returning home. My body felt ravaged and though I had planned one more thing to end this day of turning 30 I just wasn’t up for any movie watching in my current state. When I zombie walked into the apartment just before eleven the couch awaited me and I obliged by falling face first into comfort. After listening to Don McLean croon out American Pie, a birthday tradition, I put on some Chopin Nocturns and was asleep in under five minutes putting an end to two wonderful days of long overdue travel. The sites and experiences are memories I will carry forever but I think I’d have rather been with you folks back home on this day. There were no hugs or coy remarks about age. There was no cake…no candles. Somehow I think I’d trade the beaches and cliffs and lanterns and fireworks for family and friends. You are with me in thought and heart. Just before sleep finally would take me, when the loneliness subsided for the night, I thought: “My God, I’m 30. Where…just where does the time go?” The night had no answers. Happy birthday to me.