Out in the Country and back to the City

"...round stones carved with the figures of two deities, a male and a female. On most of the stones, the couple is either holding hands or the female figure is offering the male figure saké. They are affectionate, charming deities that since olden times have watched over the fields and families and served as a focus of festivals."

"Dosojin are guardian deities who are closely associated with roads, travelers and local boundaries."

On the way back I fell in with another walker on the road, a woman named Chikako I'd observed at the farm, asking about a bus, then heading out ahead of me. I suggested hitchhiking, and although she seemed dubious; when the vehicle pulled over got in too. I stuck out my thumb and, as I'd suspected, got a ride almost immediately - the second car that passed us. (I've heard tell the hitching's excellent in Japan, due to a positive reaction of the natives' curiosity about foreigners combined with their lack of fear of strangers.) Unlike Chikako, our youthful driver spoke hardly any English, so she filled him in about me based on the brief information we'd exchanged while walking. In the photograph, she's holding my business card, standing at the station - we'd just exchanged our meishi (although hers was for a job she's since quit) - and shortly thereafter, our trains arrived and we departed, travelling in opposite directions.

Back in Matsumoto I had lunch in a an old traditional restaurant called Kisoya, whose specialty is the grilled tofu called dengaku. Tasty!

Hanging around the Matsumoto station, waiting for the train back to Tokyo, I had an interior debate - the result was a significant jettisoning of cargo, to improve my health and well-being. All along during this trip I'd been dogged by my left knee - just before departure a doctor said there was no permanent damage, just an inflammation, ice it often and take lots of Ibuprofen; but now it seems I have a torn meniscus and Arthroscopic knee surgery is indicated. It's not serious but was most obvious during squatting: several photo-opportunities were thwarted when I tried, but a spasm of pain prevented my lowest down-hunkerings.¹ This mobility situation was compounded by the Death Shoes: Skechers (Doc Martens look-alikes) I'd purchased for the trip as a lighter yet still weather-resistant alternative to my hiking boots. A mistake was made at the shoe store, however - I got a size too big.² I thought I'd broken 'em in sufficiently before taking off, but I was in for a rude surprise - the heavy daily use I put 'em through raised some blisters the size of 100-yen coins - one was in a forward anterior position where I've never previously encountered a foot blister. The Death Shoes obviously didn't fit, and with the blisters, wearing them was now an agony - why was I carrying them around? I thought of just leaving them parked somewhere conspicuous, but it's doubtful anybody would claim them - first, the typical Confucius-influenced Japanese would just leave them alone; and second, they were probably way too big to fit any locally needy candidate's feet. And another problem: While I was thinking this through, I was siting on the upstairs floor of the train station, along the wall near the adjacent department store, because in Japan two things are (weirdly) rare in public spaces: chairs and trash receptacles. (A few places to sit are provided, but they're usually occupied.) Looking around, of course there was no big can to lob 'em into; disposal would be a little more difficult. Eventually I determined the capacity was adequate in the lower region of the department store's ashtray units, located just inside their entrance - no longer caring about appearances, I stuffed a single bulky shoe into each one. From this point on I'd be relying solely on my backup footgear, the sandals - these are neither mere flip-flops, nor the wooden geta everybody around me woulda been wearing a century ago ³ - rather, my Lands End pseudo-Teva 'sport' sandals.

Eventually the purple Azusa express pulled in to the station. I rode it through the increasingly dark countryside, occasionally punctuated by the lights of some town's pachinko parlor. Returned to Shibuya, walked back up the hill to check in at the Fukudaya. After settling in, went out for a bewildering walkabout over in the Shinjuku district. It's grown - vast new spaces and constructions; the Panasonic neon display adjacent to the Studio Alta-Vision screen was especially nice. (Glad I got to see the latter in its old monochrome-incandescent configuration.) Back to Shibuya for revolving kaiten sushi just before its closing time - this time the restaurant was a small one quite close to the hotel, I'd been passing it and finally succumbed to the raw fish urge.

Next: Shibuya