To continue on our travels, but to make them separate entries so no one's eyes cross too badly...
Now, Hub and I have taken so many trips since we've been in Sasebo that the women working at the MWR office know us by name, which always makes me (proudly) think of myself as the travel-addicted version of Cliff from Cheers! on television. Knowing that near us is the world's largest indoor beach (the OceanDome), Hub went in to inquire about a tour there several months back and was pleased to find that one of our favorite travel agents recommended an upcoming, not-yet-released trip to a nearby island. Calling me for confirmation, he booked us the first seats on the bus, and I began relishing the thought of getting in some great board time, possibly a bit of cancerous tanning, before reporting to work the following week. We even managed to persuade other friends to join along after leaking out the good news to a few others.
Early Saturday morning, we boarded a bus, bound for a ferry port a couple of hours away; again, I have absolutely no clue where we actually picked up the ferry at. I tend to spend bus rides huddled in my own corner, praying desperately for the Dramamine to kick in, and hopelessly attempting to look as if the shade of green my skin has turned is completely normal and enviously flattering.
Once on the ferry, I found it easier to settle down, even snapping a quick shot with Hub while chatting with Andy and Becca who were sitting next to us (Andy trying to catch up on the final Harry Potter book while Hub was attempting to block out any conversations so he wouldn't hear spoilers since he just started the series). Sooner than we thought, we were deboarding the ferry, having arrived at Iki Island, reboarding the bus on our way to the beach.
I really meant to take a picture, as strange as this will sound, of the bathroom/changing room area as I keep forgetting to show everyone what a traditional Japanese toliet is like, but with the gigantic samurai spiders nesting in each corner, it was all I could do to peel off my clothes, slap on my swimsuit, and shuffle quickly out to guard the door for Becca's frantic attempts to do the same. Needless to say, I think we were both happy to walk out through the beach huts out onto the warm sand. Hub and I shared a rueful glance at the completely flat water, realizing a little late that the boards we'd lugged around were completely useless. Still, we swam, playing in the water and getting in enough salt to satisfy us for a solitary day before returning to set out for the hotel within Iki City.
Hub and I showered, dressed, and set out for a restraunt, guided by the maps our guide had thrust into our hands before we checked into our rooms. Spotting a yakiniku on the map, we walked the few blocks, stopping to take a picture of this plaque, obvious throughout the city as some sort of talisman, while a small group of teenage girls attempted to engage us and practice their English, giggling the entire time. We spoke to them for a few minutes before waving and continuing on, the trio following us like chattering puppies for a short time before disappointedly breaking away. Finding our doorway, to climbed to the second floor where we spotted another family from the tour trying to decide if they wanted to chance an all-kanji menu. The owner, a very sweet, older Japanese lady, advised that she knew English and could assist, so Hub and I shrugged and asked to be seated, sure we could figure things out on our own.
Ushered into our little room, sectioned off by sliding doors of the most delicate paper, we (Hub shot a nice pic of yours truly, I think) sat and waited for menus to arrive.
Only then did we realize just how WRONG we had been.
Our server, a young Japanese man, was extremely friendly, but it was obvious from the get-go just how little (to us)English he spoke and just how poor our Japanese was (to him). Our menu had no pictures, just amounts and characters written on 10 different pages. Alarmed, we began the wild gesturing (my favorite was when he pointed at one word, then at his tongue, signaling that we could order an entire round of tongue) that comes along with random, known words (we understood "kalbi;" he understood "beef"); looking fairly desperate, I finally spotted some artwork on the walls and used that to convey what we wanted. Unsure as to whether this yakiniku would supply vegetables, I pointed at a sign just behind Hub's head and noted that we wanted two orders. Feeling more confident, we settled back as he turned on the grill between us, and waited for our meats and veggies to arrive.
Imagine our surprise, a few minutes later, when he showed up with a couple of glasses of what appeared to be tomato juice! Confused, we shook our heads, and he pointed back at the sign of the vegetables I'd kept referring to; laughing, Hub deduced that what we thought was an order of different vegetables was actually fresh-juiced carrots and tomato. Blushing a deep red, I bowed from where I sat and gulpingly took a sip (I hate tomato juice) so as not to be rude.
Worried about what we might have ordered from our "friendly" picture helpers, we were relieved when the usual plate of meats and veggies arrived, and Hub began piling things on the grill with the tongs. Upon closer inspection, I realized that what we thought had been the usual meats actually was a lovely cut of steak, a thinly sliced bit of pork, chicken SKIN, beef KIDNEY and some sort of sausage whose contents I attempted to not think about. Asking for rice led to fish-flavored rice balls held together by a seaweed wrapper, which, thankfully, I manged to bite into before Hub had a chance (allergies and all). Having eaten bits and pieces (yes to the sausage of unknown origin, but a BIG NO to the chicken skin which was the chewiest and most disgusting substance I've ever put in my mouth in all of my years), the owner/host stopped by to see how we managed and to offer us "crawree." Puzzled, we shook our heads, but she seemed to understand that we hadn't grapsed what she meant and, grinning broadly, brought the two tinsiest cups of coffee I've ever spotted. Blushing red for the second time in one night, we tried to graciously accept our cups, sipped, then paid and left, bowing low for all the trouble we'd managed to cause in one sitting.
Leaving, we headed to the local RIC shop (convenience store) to stock up on goodies for the next day (my favorite might have been the crustless peanut butter and azuki bean spread sandwich I snagged, although Hub was really fond of the custard-filled biscuits) before throwing our sunburned selves onto the bed, tuckered out.
The next morning, we again checked out of the hotel, boarding the bus headed for a local, natural phenomenon known as "monkey rock." I found myself staring dreamily out at the water, replaying the previous day in my mind while vowing to be more on-top-of my sunscreen applications, only to turn to find that Hub, of course, had managed to find a local ice cream stand. Only him.
After hours of snorkeling among the coral reef (I actually saw a blowfish blow up--a first for me!), relaxing on the sand, we were ready for the journey home, snoozing along the way. I'm unsure if we'll ever visit Iki Island again, but our time was absolutely a refreshing point before the craziness of work descended. I can only hope we find a few more of those spots while here.
I seem to be backtracking in my ability to get out timely posts about our trips and our adventures here in the Land of the Rising Sun, so on this long Labor Day Weekend, my goal is to relate our latest little excursions for the masses (read: enjoy the pictures, cause I know that's what keeps most of you coming back).
Now, I've said before that Sasebo, while being 250,000 people strong, is actually considered a farming town; because of this, we lack a lot of the 'big city" resources--malls (or even multiple shopping arcades), a large selection of non-Japanese restraunts, and, most importantly to travelers, an airport. For those considering a visit, take note that the two nearest airports to my home are Fukuoka and Nagasaki, both equidistant really. Our friend, Kelly, was flying back to the States, and rather than deal with a train or wait for the Navy bus to come by, she asked us to pick her up at Fukuoka; thinking it a perfect time to explore more of the city we'd only really seen at two previous points (when we flew in and then when we went to the baseball game), the Hub and I readily agreed.
Knowing her flight came in late, we headed up after church, marveling at the signs along the way (most of which we couldn't read but enjoyed nonetheless)--every single town had its own small highway sign with a small, drawn picture depicting what they felt most important about their home. One had a traditional shrine gate, and another a temple doorway, but I was more surprised to see things like watermelons, strawberries, and rodents in other places! We would also see large, yellow flags warning us of the chance for rodents (or wild boars in SOME cases) potentially crossing the tollway. I kept trying to get a picture of one of those, as I nearly cracked up as much as I did the illegal immigrant sign in San Diego everytime I saw it, but alas, I failed.
Reaching Fukuoka, we parked at the airport's day lot and walked confidently into the subway, sure that if we could conquer Tokyo's lines, Fuk should be a snap. To our dismay, however, none of the signs were translated into English but were in full kanji, which we cannot read. Seeing our nervous faces, a friendly guard pointed out where we needed to stop once we explained where we hoped to go. Counting the stops from where we stopped til we disboarded, we made the transition, walked a few blocks, and came upon the Fukuoka Yahoo! Dome, which we'd visited earlier for the game. Snapping a quick shot of the giant Asahi can painted just outside, we wandered around the giant mall (easily remembered as Hawks Town) just next door where we languished for hours in the American-ness that was the Gap, Toys R Us, and, finally, Hard Rock Cafe.
Laugh all you want, folks; after enough time with only McDonalds, Mister Donuts, and KFC as your links to any American cuisine not of your own device, you'll run towards something familiar as well. :) Needless to say, I don't think I've ever tasted a Southwestern egg roll that was quite as divine, nor a pulled pork sandwich that I've enjoyed as much (not to say it was better than yours, Dad, but man--it's been a LONG time for some bbq).
Moving towards the train station again, we cruised over to the underground shopping area known as Tenjin (literally in meaning "underground'--the entire mall is underground), where I had to snap this picture of a movie playing at their local theater, just for you Harry Potter buffs back home. After that, we again rode to a stop that made the Hub break into a fit of very unmanly giggles: Eeny Meeny Miny Mo. Actually, it was another shopping area, but he couldn't get over the name and laughed everytime he saw it.
Opting to not run around in the mall, we strolled through the Kawabata Shopping Arcade, which wasn't as long as the one in Sasebo but definitely had different shops and lots of decorations for the passerby. At the end was, yet, another mall, Canal City (can you tell I have a shopping problem?), but I wanted to spend a bit of time near the Kushida Shrine, which, as you can see, was completely surrounded by the urban sprawl. Having been an extremely humid, sunny, and hot day, we were surprised to find that the wind picked up and large raindrops started coming down as we walked into the Shrine. Undeterred, I insisted upon visitng the actual Shrine to pay homeage, but was eventually pulled away by a superstitious Hub who believes that we might not be as welcome. He contends his astuteness at sensing these vibes with the knowledge that as soon as we exited through the entrance gate, the rain ceased, the wind slowed, and the sun came back out. I'll leave it to you to make your own determinations.
After that, we had just enough time to return to the airport, find Kelly, and then drive back home (where I promptly told the Hub to take the wrong tollway so we ended up several hours away and had to backtrack--oops); our goal is to spend a weekend in Fukuoka so we can explore the rest of the city which is one of the largest in Japan.
