Field Notes 02.

In the same way that my brain doesn't function in a linear fashion, I don't think Hokkaido does either.
There is definitely a flow to things here, but it will wrestle with you if you try to impose on it.

This is a story from our first days in Hokkaido. A misunderstanding, a bit of frustration, and things working out how they should.

We came to Hokkaido with the plan of checking out a ski lodge in Tomamu that we were interested in buying.
We had set up a car rental before arriving, and on our second day, we went to pick it up so we could head out that same day.

I knew I needed an International Driving Permit.
But having been living in Germany, not my home country, I had gotten one issued there.

Unknown to me, that version isn't accepted in Japan.

So there we were at the counter, being told we didn't actually have a car to rent.
Which put our whole plan in a bit of a hole.

Denise and I regrouped.
Sat for a bit.
Thought it through.

Then made the only move that made sense.

We got the Hokkaido-wide 7-day train pass, and ran to catch a train to Tomamu.
Got picked up by the realtor.
Saw the lodge.
Got dropped back at the station.
And carried on.

In a strange way, it was a bit of a blessing.

We had come to Hokkaido with camping gear and light packs, planning to camp each night.
Without a car, we were suddenly limited to places within walking distance of a station or public transport.

It narrowed things.
But it also changed how we started interacting with the place.

Our next stop was Mukawa.

A small coastal town.

A friend we had met at Shambhala in British Columbia had told us about a small festival there.
That was enough reason to go.

Mukawa isn't a place that sees many western tourists.
More or less, it's pretty indescript.

We ended that day on the lawn of a roadside stop, next to an onsen.
Tent pitched.
Heading to sleep after a soak that washed off the sweat and a bit of the stress from the day.

This was our first onsen in Hokkaido, and my first in Japan in about 8 years.

They were incredibly friendly.

I asked about tattoos, showed the one on my arm.
Big smile.
Okay sign.
"Daijoubu."

Inside, I was taking my time a bit too much.

The old onsen woman was there, checking the water, making sure everything was in order, and, in this case, making sure I knew what I was doing.

She stood there, watching, waiting.

Eventually it was clear she wasn't going anywhere.

She kept giggling and telling me to wash my hair.

All things considered, a really nice onsen, in a good corner of the world.

One I'm keen to revisit.

Somewhere in all of this, it felt like a reminder.

That we needed to let go a bit.
And move with what Hokkaido was giving us.

And as soon as we did, we were already ending up in interesting places.

- Riley