My destination was Japan, but it took me nineteen hours. Two flights, two buses, and one ferry—nineteen hours of half-sleeping, half-waking, half-lying, half-sitting. I’ve always envied those who can fall asleep the moment they board a plane, but I could only stare blankly out the window, managing at most a brief nap even when utterly exhausted.
At dawn, I glanced out the plane window and was startled to see a crescent moon hanging level with my gaze, suspended in the deep blackness of night. Far below somewhere, a spiderweb of tiny golden lights twinkled. Above were stars and the Milky Way; below, endless lights stretched out. Wide awake while all others slept, I had the moon for company.
Nineteen hours later, I finally arrived at Anbo Port on Yakushima. The sea breeze brushed my face, and in the cool air, I waited for the last ferry of the day to the next port: Miyanoura Port. The hostel where I was staying was near Miyanoura Port. By the time I figured out where it was, the sky had darkened. I couldn’t tell which direction was which. I walked along the coast, listening to the sound of waves crashing against the rocks. The sea breeze was refreshing, and the starry sky above was dazzling. It was a peaceful moment, just the right kind of solitude.
In the morning, this little hostel felt especially charming, with soft morning light shining on the tatami mats and wooden furniture, creating a warm atmosphere. On Sunday afternoon, I took a stroll around the area. The streets were quiet, with only the sound of traffic lights changing. I wanted to grab a bite at a small eatery, but they were all closed—it turned out restaurants didn’t open until after six in the evening. As an inconvenient guest, I had no choice but to head to the supermarket and buy some instant noodles. A quick pour of hot water, and I was good to go.
The small common area of the hostel was a great place for travelers to chat. On the first night, I met an American who had just finished the Jomon Sugi trail. Seeing this tall young man walking with a noticeable limp and wincing in pain, I couldn’t help but worry if I could complete the ten-hour hike. On the second night, a new group of guests arrived—Dutchman Jeroen and American Greg. When they found out we were from Hong Kong, they mentioned how much Hong Kong must be in the news lately. Jeroen was also heading to Jomon Sugi the same day as us, though we hadn’t planned to hike together. After all, there’s only one bus to the mountain base each morning, so hikers always end up meeting at the stop.
Basically, people come to Yakushima either to pay homage to Jomon Sugi or to explore Shiratani Unsui Gorge. If there’s time, they might also visit the seaside or waterfalls. During my three-night stay on Yakushima, I only managed to visit these two hiking destinations. The bus schedules are very limited, so you have to check the timings carefully before setting out. Missing the last bus and getting stranded in the forest is definitely not a good idea.
Original: http://melomelo.pixnet.net/blog/post/59185582
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M for Melo – Small Stories About Travel and Life
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