One hot and humid day in June, Tsugumi and I decided to hop aboard a train to Mie, a prefecture east of Osaka (I thought it interesting that the capital of Mie is Tsu or つ). A couple of hours and few trains later, we arrived a small station. The ride was a pleasant one. We passed through a lot of beautiful, lush country side, before our departure at Akame-guchi, a little station, sparsely populated, by a few locals. We made our way to a bus stop and got on with two other apparent visitors to the area. After a short wait, the bus driver got in, started up the engine and made the announcement that we were on our way, “All Aboard!”− well not exactly but some variation of that.
It was really nice being so far away from the bustle of the city. The humidity in Kansai this time of year is really overbearing for me so opening the window of the bus and taking in the cool country air was absolutely invigorating. As the bus creaked along up through the narrow, winding Taki-gawa Valley road, the vegetation got more and more green. At the end − literally, we paid our fare (a little steeper than what we pay in the city) and stepped off the bus.
At the end of the ride we came upon a few tourist traps on one side with a hotel and onsen on the other.
We enjoyed some mochi and iced tea and took in the beauty surrounding us. On the hillside the air tends to be cooler but still a bit moist. After our brief pause at the mochi stand, we strolled over to the trailhead and paid our fee to enter. Unfortunately, we had to walk through an chamber exhibiting giant salamanders, commonly seen in the area. Some of the were the size of small dogs. Being that I am strongly against the use of animals and other creatures being removed from their natural environment and taken away from Allah’s intended purpose and used for entertainment, I started the trip on a sour note− especially recognizing the inadequate housing they were condemned to for their remainder of their lives.
After getting through that we were at the base of Shiju-hattaki or “Forty-eight Waterfalls.” It was stunning. Four kilometers of streams and waterfalls lay at our feet. Looking up, we were beneath a thick coniferous canopy filtering the sun’s rays through several layers of green. The rocks were covered in a blanket of moss and the water was cool, pristine. I daydreamed about how nice taking a dip in one of the pools would be. The water was surprisingly brisk, actually. As a gaijin, I probably could have dove in without creating much of a stir− the Japanese are used to westerners acting like idiots.
About half way, we stopped off to enjoy Tsuchan’s onagiri and fruit. We dangled our feet in the water and took in the amazing creation surrounding us. We had the option of buying a bowl of udon from a food stand with a vending machine out front but stuck with what we had. Japan’s funny that way− it’s hard to venture anywhere without finding a vending machine someplace. I’ve seen them in the strangest of places; it’s a wonder they are hooked up to a power source at times.
After lunch, we continued along the path. For the most part, it’s an easy walk with only a few inclines and staircases− some with a pretty good drop off though. As we made our way down the path I noticed something slowly wrapping itself around the trunk of a tree.
It was a Garasu-Hiba snake slithering on up to the branches overhead. I guess Japan has quite a few but this was my first. It must have been close to five feet in length but less than a couple inches in diameter. We didn’t mess with it so it pretty much ignored us− I did take a video of it. I’m sure it was less curious of us than were we of her. I was just happy I didn’t step on her; had we came by a minute or two earlier, we could have had a nasty encounter underfoot.
Along the way, we noticed a tree that appeared to us as having a twisted grimace of a face on its trunk. The slippery thin layer of mildew added to its character. Tsuchan didn’t want me to take a photo of it but how could I resist? Of course, my camera was unable to give it justice but I took it just the same. 
There also some steep cliffs that exhibited faces reminiscent of those of Easter Island. When we reached the end of the path, we saw that we could have continued on but as it was, we had already gotten off to a late start. We hadn’t noticed how late until we made it back to the trailhead. I suppose that’s part of the reason for the hotel….
According to the bus schedule posted at the bus stop, the last one departed about 20 minutes prior to our arrival! Well, we decided we might as well eat dinner before heading on down the road to the station.
There was a quaint, little café overlooking the valley that we were considering. A local couple who happened to be enjoying an afternoon meal noticed our situation and treated offered us a ride− on the condition that we join them at their table first. Against our objections, they paid for our meal. It turns out both were local artists and the gentleman sat on the board of a historical preservation council, dedicated to maintaining the traditional architecture prevalent on the area.
When we finished our meal, they took us back to the station and we exchanged meishi (business cards) and they asked us to visit their home in the future. I really want to go back someday. It was a great honor to be invited to share a second meal with them and see their home and studio. Insha’Allah, someday. Their graciousness and generosity is a quality that is far more common than home in the States. We found the same in Bali. I’m sure it used to be like that back home, too but sadly we’ve lost it for the most part. Hell, in a lot of places they’d chase you away− if you were a foreigner or didn’t speak the language a person could get shot. Not in Japan though. I’ve had people pull over in their car to help me with directions who couldn’t even speak English! I guess that’s the tradeoff for rugged individualism.
I highly recommend visit Shiju-hattaki if ever the opportunity presents itself. We did go during the week so there were hardly any other people around but I’m sure the weekend isn’t nearly as crowded as places near the city. A visit in autumn would be equally breathtaking. Maybe we’ll return then.
It was really nice being so far away from the bustle of the city. The humidity in Kansai this time of year is really overbearing for me so opening the window of the bus and taking in the cool country air was absolutely invigorating. As the bus creaked along up through the narrow, winding Taki-gawa Valley road, the vegetation got more and more green. At the end − literally, we paid our fare (a little steeper than what we pay in the city) and stepped off the bus.
At the end of the ride we came upon a few tourist traps on one side with a hotel and onsen on the other.
We enjoyed some mochi and iced tea and took in the beauty surrounding us. On the hillside the air tends to be cooler but still a bit moist. After our brief pause at the mochi stand, we strolled over to the trailhead and paid our fee to enter. Unfortunately, we had to walk through an chamber exhibiting giant salamanders, commonly seen in the area. Some of the were the size of small dogs. Being that I am strongly against the use of animals and other creatures being removed from their natural environment and taken away from Allah’s intended purpose and used for entertainment, I started the trip on a sour note− especially recognizing the inadequate housing they were condemned to for their remainder of their lives.After getting through that we were at the base of Shiju-hattaki or “Forty-eight Waterfalls.” It was stunning. Four kilometers of streams and waterfalls lay at our feet. Looking up, we were beneath a thick coniferous canopy filtering the sun’s rays through several layers of green. The rocks were covered in a blanket of moss and the water was cool, pristine. I daydreamed about how nice taking a dip in one of the pools would be. The water was surprisingly brisk, actually. As a gaijin, I probably could have dove in without creating much of a stir− the Japanese are used to westerners acting like idiots.
About half way, we stopped off to enjoy Tsuchan’s onagiri and fruit. We dangled our feet in the water and took in the amazing creation surrounding us. We had the option of buying a bowl of udon from a food stand with a vending machine out front but stuck with what we had. Japan’s funny that way− it’s hard to venture anywhere without finding a vending machine someplace. I’ve seen them in the strangest of places; it’s a wonder they are hooked up to a power source at times.After lunch, we continued along the path. For the most part, it’s an easy walk with only a few inclines and staircases− some with a pretty good drop off though. As we made our way down the path I noticed something slowly wrapping itself around the trunk of a tree.
It was a Garasu-Hiba snake slithering on up to the branches overhead. I guess Japan has quite a few but this was my first. It must have been close to five feet in length but less than a couple inches in diameter. We didn’t mess with it so it pretty much ignored us− I did take a video of it. I’m sure it was less curious of us than were we of her. I was just happy I didn’t step on her; had we came by a minute or two earlier, we could have had a nasty encounter underfoot.
Along the way, we noticed a tree that appeared to us as having a twisted grimace of a face on its trunk. The slippery thin layer of mildew added to its character. Tsuchan didn’t want me to take a photo of it but how could I resist? Of course, my camera was unable to give it justice but I took it just the same. 
There also some steep cliffs that exhibited faces reminiscent of those of Easter Island. When we reached the end of the path, we saw that we could have continued on but as it was, we had already gotten off to a late start. We hadn’t noticed how late until we made it back to the trailhead. I suppose that’s part of the reason for the hotel….According to the bus schedule posted at the bus stop, the last one departed about 20 minutes prior to our arrival! Well, we decided we might as well eat dinner before heading on down the road to the station.
There was a quaint, little café overlooking the valley that we were considering. A local couple who happened to be enjoying an afternoon meal noticed our situation and treated offered us a ride− on the condition that we join them at their table first. Against our objections, they paid for our meal. It turns out both were local artists and the gentleman sat on the board of a historical preservation council, dedicated to maintaining the traditional architecture prevalent on the area.When we finished our meal, they took us back to the station and we exchanged meishi (business cards) and they asked us to visit their home in the future. I really want to go back someday. It was a great honor to be invited to share a second meal with them and see their home and studio. Insha’Allah, someday. Their graciousness and generosity is a quality that is far more common than home in the States. We found the same in Bali. I’m sure it used to be like that back home, too but sadly we’ve lost it for the most part. Hell, in a lot of places they’d chase you away− if you were a foreigner or didn’t speak the language a person could get shot. Not in Japan though. I’ve had people pull over in their car to help me with directions who couldn’t even speak English! I guess that’s the tradeoff for rugged individualism.
I highly recommend visit Shiju-hattaki if ever the opportunity presents itself. We did go during the week so there were hardly any other people around but I’m sure the weekend isn’t nearly as crowded as places near the city. A visit in autumn would be equally breathtaking. Maybe we’ll return then.
1 comment:
Well said.
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