Travel Fail

After two train rides, I walked into a restaurant, discreetly looking for the menu on the counter.  I was too lazy to compose what I wanted to say to the Japanese cashier.  I’d rather point to the picture of the food, pay, and eat.  After almost 30 seconds, I left the restaurant only to return again because I knew I had to eat.  When food was served on my table, I was satisfied with the generous amount and I was even contemplating on whether to ask the lady server why the food was so cheap  But since I didn’t want to talk, I just had a quiet discussion with myself that maybe I was somewhere outside the main city.  But with its busy station and the number of people going back and forth the automatic ticket gate, Toyohashi seemed to be a thriving city.

I traveled for almost two hours in a place that I had never been before to see a vast of land filled with the main ingredient of a vegetable oil.  I didn’t have a fascination with oil or any intention of getting into a business involving any kind of oil.  I was just dying to see a yellow carpet of rapeseed.  I wanted to be surrounded with the lovely radiant color of yellow.  Flower fields are just so beautiful.  How I wish my native country can allot a piece of land and fill it with flowers.

From Toyohashi Station, I went to the bus station and bought a ticket bound for Irago-Misaki bus stop.  Because I arrived at noon, my estimated arrival time was past 1:00 pm.  And by the time I reached the bus stop, I still needed to ride a shuttle bus to Irago Nanohana Garden.  That meant going home late.  I didn’t expect the bus ride would take long.  I felt dizzy along the way, but every time we passed by a bunch of rapeseed along the road, my spirit was lifted high.   When I arrived at Irago-Misaki bus stop, I waited for the shuttle bus that would take me to Irago Nanohana Garden.  The scheduled arrival time already passed, but no bus came.  I decided to sit on a bench near the bus stop while I drank Coke.  An old Japanese lady sat on the same bench.  After a few minutes, I asked her if she could tell me how to read the kanji characters on the bus schedule.  In the process, I asked her if a shuttle bus was coming on that day.  She wasn’t sure.  Even her companions who arrived a few minutes later didn’t know.  So, I just told them that I’d probably wait and off they went.  Sometimes it frustrates me how Japanese aren’t so straightforward.  The bus schedule was written near the bus stop and all they could do was tell me if a bus was coming or not based on the written schedule.  I would have appreciated it if they just said no. Instead, they lingered on whether the bus would come or not. Or maybe they just didn’t want to disappoint me. Or the schedule was just too complicated to understand even for a Japanese.

I was disheartened that I didn’t see what I came for.  I didn’t want to leave without seeing anything, so I walked in the area near the beach.  There was a cemented path that I decided to follow.  After a few minutes, I was surprised to see the Cape Irago lighthouse.  The lighthouse is also a popular tourist attraction in the area.  I wasn’t planning on going there because I thought it was somewhere far.  So it was really unexpected, but I was glad I decided to take a walk or else I would have missed the place which is considered a ‘sacred ground` for lovers.


When I finally got on the bus home, I noticed the rapeseed blossoms on the roadside. I could have just gone there because it was also beautiful. Although not as wide as the garden where I wanted to go, the rapeseed blossom occupied a big part of land along the road.  I was too preoccupied on going to my destination that I failed to look at the beauty that was just there along the way.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s