Day 43: (74 km) Nonoichi - Kada - Mikuni
(09/10/06)

Bye bye beautiful Ishikawa, hello beautiful Fukui-ken. Passing by Lake Kitagata we're treated to schools of flying fish tracing arcs out of the water, landing with tiny machinegun splooshes and the occasional plop. On the road, tiny purplish-brown crabs scurry out of the way of our little caravan. Chay--who has thus far saved a small grounded fish by putting it in his water bottle, helped Audrey care for a wounded bird, and moved various worms, bugs and critters out of harm's way--accidentally runs over one of the little arthropods with a crunch.

Around nine we rolled into Kada, a smallish town that would have been unmemorable but for two things: a town matsuri, and the rain. With a stroke of luck, we got our bikes under the awning of the characteristically oversized town office just as the rain came down. After a four-and-a-half-hour rest, stuffing ourselves with festival food, the rain had let up and we were ready to move on. . . To Yuske's parent's house.

We met Yuske for the first time in Aomori-ken, and again in Sado. Like many guys in Japan I met who date high-strung girls, he was very, very chill. And an artist. The first part I understand in an opposites attract sort of way. But why the artistic-chill guys and high-strung/high-energy girls end up together is beyond me. As is why artistic-chill girls don't end up with high-strung guys here. It just works out that way.

When we last saw Yuske in Aomori he suggested that we stop at his parents' house near Fukui-ken's coast. As of yesterday, we thought we would be well past it by nightfall. Thanks to the four-hour rain however, it looked like a good place to stop for the night. After some last minute phone calls to our artist friend and we were on track to meet his parents.

Mary and Chay at Tojimbo

In keeping with the local pride one finds nearly everywhere in Japan, they told us that we had to see Tojimbo--a dramatic series of basalt cliffs on the Japan Sea, famous for being, well, a dramatic series of basalt cliffs. To ensure that we saw it, they told us to go there and call them after we took in the rocky coast. Only then would they meet us.

Powdered Squid Ink for Soft-Serve--Tastier than it Sounds

That evening at Yuske's parents' house was well worth the stop. They know how to entertain and have the means to do so. We got used to feasting like kings at some of our Nagano events, but that night, we feasted like friends. At least Yuske's dad and I did, chatting away and lining up our empty beer cans in a wordless contest. Also present were Yuske's uncle (the number 3 soba-master in Fukui and the number 2 ski instructor), his younger brother who stopped by with his catch of the day, a crazy friend of the family, and her lovely daughter with her friendly-but-slightly-nervous boyfriend.

Dinner at the Ryori

Well after dinner, just as I was ready to collapse in my perfectly-made-up futon, Yuske's dad stopped me in the hallway with that most Japanese of questions, "do you like sake?" After his generosity, refusing my host would have been poor form. A couple glasses of good, Fukui sake down, I finally made it to that impeccable futon, but not before trying to convince everyone that we should push back our wake-up to six AM.

Father of Yuske

Day 42: (28 km) Uchinada - Nonoichi
(09/09/06)

Kanazawa is good place--a small city, cosmopolitan and historic. Old samurai houses mingle with trendy restaurants and department stores, traditional izakaya nuzzle next to hip design and fashion boutiques. Other than Kobe, it is the only Japanese city I've been to that is a real café city.

But there is something sad about being in a café city without a close friend, a lover, someone close to you. Every cozy coffee house, restaurant, tea shop designed as the perfest space for intimate looks, heated discussion, human connection. I could have spent the afternoon yesterday with Amy and Mary at Kenrokuen--one of Japan's three famous gardens--but being in Kanazawa again brought me back to winter, when I was here with E. It was a good trip, full of food, snow, and even a few laughs. Revisiting a cafe city without the person who made it special the first time is doubly sad.

Finding a hint of Peace at the Izakaya

But Japan is welcoming place for people on their own. Before long, I found a comfortable izakaya on a quiet canal-lined street. Sitting outside with a beer, some yaki-mochi, and my notebook, I settled on a happy sort of solitude.

Tonight, a mournful jazz tune wafts out of the Medicina Café, a solo trumpet's story of sweetness and loss. It's a little much to take, this sad trumpet talking to me as I sit here alone, surrounded by dusk. I remember someone who should be here beside me, and a city more conducive to jazz. It was a sad city too.

* * * * *

This morning we were scheduled to help with a tree planting in Uchinada. "Planting" may have been a bit of an exaggeration since all we did was toss some dirt over the already set trees and save a few of the women from caterpillars.

Tree Planting Gets Exciting

Lunch was at a macrobiotic restaurant. Though tasty, it left me no clearer as to what "macrobiotic" food actually is. Then a few people went off to a hippie-fest that I avoided. Feeling another bout of loneliness coming on, I didn't want to be reminded of all the good times at festivals my first year, with friends who have long since departed Japan.