I wish I could say the story begins at the dreamy Hilton south of Tokyo, with its endless pools, hot springs, and the hollow clunking of bamboo in the breeze. But really, it starts at Yokohama train station in the middle of Tokyo. We get off the airport train, trying to transfer to another train that will take us to tiny seaside Nebukawa…but the ticket machines in this station ONLY take yen as payment. No cards. And every ATM has rejected Sam’s card.
How is this possible, I wonder, trying to flag down anyone even remotely western-looking in hopes of exchanging some dollars for yen. This is a technologically advanced country! How am I at the mercy of paper?
My five year old Anika and nineteen year old Jai supervise our mountain of luggage in a daze. I squint through the station where Sam is rattling the door of a closed money exchange, and I realize I can smell my own stress-sweat.
Hoping for the best, somewhere near Tokyo
It’s almost midnight when I run to a far-off konbini 7-11 whose ATM vibes with my debit card, and I extract some precious yen. I think we’re in the clear now, but after two failed attempts to find the correct train platform, I can almost feel my eyes going bloodshot. At last, we board the last train to Nebukawa before the line shuts down for the night.
Lord. I did not expect that level of difficulty.
The lesson: If you get in to Japan late, exchange money as soon as you can, airport fees be damned.
And come prepared with a method for translating, or a friend, a guide, a clue, ‘cuz just googling and assuming it’ll be fine is not a great strategy.
Ahem. Arriving by train to the town of Odawara, we taxi through empty streets shining with rain to the Hilton, delirious, and pass out hard. In the morning (well it was already morning, but whatever) I push aside the thick curtains to see where the hell we are, and my mouth drops open.
Serenity, Nebukawa
Threading through the ‘hood, Nebukawa
Snack table! Hilton Odawara
The Hilton Odawara is a quiet, palacial hotel known for it’s water: indoor pools with fountains and nooks beside a sauna and steam room flow to an outdoor pool, all below a traditional onsen. After soaking up all the water, the four of us set out to explore little Nebukawa.
With no map and no plan, we flow down the hillside like water.
Down stairs, past graveyards, under cedars, bamboo
over a river, under a bridge,
into a sunken stone shrine…
Across the road to an empty rocky beach
with clear water and fruiting mulberry trees!
Beside an empty dive center, an empty campground and empty, ocean view swings…
Neighborhood graves, Nebukawa
The sound of the rushing stream, rustling of trees, and the occasional train thundering overhead, Nebukawa
Shrine, Nebukawa
Beauty everywhere, Nebukawa
Might I add, we pass NO PEOPLE on these hillside paths, or by the river, in the shrine, on the beach…
and it’s a beautiful, sunny day in June.
Ripe mulberries growing on the beach, Nebukawa
Empty dive center with giant fishing nets, Nebukawa
We cross over the road while the beautiful river goes under it, and then yet again, no people…!
More weeds than people on these stairs, Nebukawa
Clear water, Nebukawa coastline
Swings at the empty campground, Nebukawa
And a little further down the road looks like the decent spot to eat…
Seaside restaurant Yamamoto Paakueria, Nebukawa
The fish is so fresh it twitches. Jai thinks it might be the wind coming through the open window making it look like it’s moving, but after prodding the fish’s head, uh, nope, it must’ve been killed fifteen minutes ago when we ordered it.
Sashimi in seasonal style!
The afternoon is glorious. We keep talking about the paths down the lush hillside, the train bridge, the river, the shrine, the beach, the mulberries, the clear water and air, the lunch…
just dizzy with love for this place!
We have one more day, which is spent again at the pools, a trip to Odawara (much bigger of a town so not fair to compare, but lacking the charm of little Nebukawa) and enjoying the Hilton Odawara Hotel, including the game room, complete with a bowling alley, karaoke rooms, and this taiko drumming arcade game.
Arcade, Hilton Odawara, Japan
On the third morning we take off for the airport, bound for the far reaches of the Philippines on a tiny sailboat with six other people, not far from pirate infested waters and Borneo. Read about that wild ride here:
Anyway. Now that we’re packed and on the first of MANY trains to the airport Anika announces, “I’m hungry!” And I look up at the train map. There must be eleven more stations to go just on this line alone. As I fumble in my bag for any snack that might be burrowing in there, a middle aged Japanese woman nudges me.
I look up, and she smiles, handing me two red tomatoes, their perfect skin shining.
My mouth drops open. These are no grocery store tomatoes! I can feel the life force in them. And when I’m traveling, I love nothing more than fresh, healthy food to reassure me that I’m not made of only fumes, cooties and questionable take-out.
And then she hands Anika a little stuffed bunny to boot and my daughter’s eyes go huge. My heart opens even wider.
We thank the woman profusely and bite into the garden ripe tomatoes like they’re apples. Satisfaction settles over me like sunshine as the train rattles on. I love the kindness of the Japanese people. I can’t wait to come back.
Train near tokyo, Japan
Stuffed bunny for Anika! Somewhere near Tokyo, Japan
