No Regrets!

We got up early to pack and leave our bags with the hotel concierge, who would forward them to Fukuoka. With only daypacks in hand, we hopped in a taxi to the ferry terminal for a day trip to Miyajima. Lockers at the terminal made it easy to stow the things we didn’t need on the island, and buying ferry tickets was painless.

Miyajima is a lush, mountainous island just ten minutes off the mainland by ferry. We stepped off the boat and were promptly greeted by the island’s famously free-roaming deer, who seemed a bit dumb. They have not been trained to bow like the ones in Nara Park.

Another absolutely gorgeous day, with warm sunshine and a cool breeze. As we walked along the coast, we came upon the famous red torii gate. As fate would have it, we were visiting right at high tide, when it is supposedly at its most photogenic.

Itsukushima Shrine welcomed us and a zillion other tourists with wooden walkways that seemed to float over the water, framing views of the torii gate from various angles. We hiked up a short staircase to check out the Tahōtō Pagoda, our enjoyment somewhat compromised by a guy drilling a new railing into place around the structure.

We continued onward and upward to Daisho-in Temple. The sound of bells and the smell of incense fill the air. The grounds are have several small shrines connected by meandering paths. Beautiful and spiritual place, even if there are a bunch of tourists hopping around.

At this point, with Dave preferring not to do any activities which involved him being at great height, we split up for some independent time. Dave headed to the aquarium. I found some rice flour donuts for breakfast and headed to the Mt. Misen Ropeway.

The ropeway is a series of scenic gondolas that take you up the mountain. They’re built like an old, rickety, Coney Island roller coaster, but once on board, the ride is smooth enough. The first gondola takes you steeply up over the thick forest of Mt. Misen, with red Japanese maples adding splashes of color below. The second one is a gentle glide across a valley. At the top, there’s a viewing platform, but a 30-minute hike remains if you want to reach the summit. Somewhat pressed for time, I committed quickly and was on my way. Some great views and a modest sense of accomplishment at the top.

On the way down, I FaceTimed my mom, who was home in bed, and caught her up on my trip. I turned the phone around so that she could enjoy the hike down the mountain, explaining the things she was seeing along the way. Was kind of fun!

Finally met up with Dave again at the bottom, who gushed about a crush he had on one of the giant seals he saw at the aquarium. Matcha ice cream in a dark brown cone, softly served in the shape of a perfect poop emoji, served as our lunch.

Then a ferry and taxi back to Hiroshima Station for one last ride on the shinkansen, in and out of mountain tunnels, to Fukuoka. This was the last leg of our marvelous journey.

By the time we arrived in Fukuoka, a gray pallor filled the sky. It didn’t help make the city, filled with high-rise condos and not much else, any more attractive.

We checked into the Hotel Okura, where my sumo tickets were waiting at front desk, thank goodness. That’s pretty much the only reason we’re in Fukuoka, to catch opening day of the Kyushu Basho, the city’s annual professional sumo tournament. We were ominously given room 911 for our stay.

I expected not to see many tourists in Fukuoka, as it’s a bit off the normal tourist path through Japan, and I was right. Our whole first day, we only saw four people who were not Japanese. There’s noticeably less English here, and even the hotel staff seemed a little skittish to us and our western ways.

We decided to hit up one of the hotel’s “fancy” restaurants for dinner, only to find that the decor looked a lot like Denny’s and the sushi menu looked suspect. So we visited the other restaurant for a teppanyaki experience. Highlight was a lobster freshly sliced in half and left in front of us for 20 minutes, with its exposed heart continuing to beat at about 30 bpm. I don’t normally enjoy lobster, and this didn’t help, but once they cooked it up on the grill with some seasoning, it was quite tasty. Lots of sake tonight.

Over dinner, we acknowledged that our trip was nearing its end. Sad for both of us, but as we reminisced over highlights, it became clear how special this journey has been for both of us.

Research revealed that most nightlife centers around dance clubs. Not really the scene for me and Dave, and we’re aged out of those kinds of places anyway. We made one more attempt at a Japanese bar crawl, popping into Cheers, Coyote Ugly, and British Pub Morris, hoping for the best. All were a bust. The western bar experience just doesn’t seem to exist here. We did, however, find humor in how seriously these Fukuoka bars take vomiting. Signs in and around bathrooms state that vomiting is not allowed and warn of severe fines.

We finally settled in at a bar called M8 and starting chatting with two local Japanese women, both married with kids. We told them about our trip and joked around using Google Translate before taking a group photo and saying goodbye. It was nice to finally connect with some locals.

Overall, a mostly unremarkable day in Fukuoka, but we’re good to go for sumo tomorrow. That’s why we’re here.