Funny things do happen

Rain was pouring down as my train pulled into Sakata station in Yamagata Prefecture. That cool cloudy morning, I had left my shrine lodging on Mount Haguro and spent the day exploring the charming town of Tsuruoka. I was visiting the beautiful Zenpoji temple complex about 40 minutes outside the town when the rain started in the early afternoon.

I don’t mind the rain, one of my daughters in the US sent me great rain gear for hiking, but my shoes were not waterproof. I decided to head to Sakata earlier than I had planned.

Exiting the train, I passed through the ticket gate and out of the small station. My hotel was 2 km away. I was pulling a small suitcase in addition to carrying a backpack, and I was feeling a bit tired, so I opted to take a taxi.

After a quick check-in, I took off my rain jacket in my room and noticed that the chest pocket of my fleece — my dedicated ticket pocket — was open.

It was empty.

Where was my rail pass?

I checked all my pockets.

I thought hard.

Blank.

My 5-day rail pass cost ¥18,000 (about $150) and would be nearly impossible to replace. It allowed me to travel on trains, including the Shinkansen, all over northeastern Japan and down to Tokyo. And I still had 3 days left.

What had I done with my pass?

Perhaps I left it in the ticket machine at the station. When tickets are left, the machine sucks them in and deposits them in a container with used tickets.

Life had thrown me a fresh challenge.

Or was it me that had done the throwing?

My adventure leveled up

I had added another layer of adventure to my trip with a new task — find the lost rail pass.

I did an internet search for JR East’s lost and found. The woman on the line contacted the local station, and I waited while the employee sorted through every ticket from the ticket machines.

No luck.

The taxi company phone number was on the receipt. I gave them a call. In a few minutes, they called me back. No rail pass was left in the taxi.

Then I was really puzzled.

My mind was completely blank from the time I walked to the turnstile until I decided to take the taxi.

There was nothing left to do.

I decided to go to the station and look on the floor. Maybe I had dropped it.

The rain was still falling. I didn’t want to spend money on another taxi. This trip was a gift from one of my sons. Money is tight these days. Because of the pandemic, I have lost all income from leading tours and many of the classes I used to teach. I would save money and walk.

Then, not wanting to ruin my non-waterproof shoes, I opted to run.

I ran 2 km to the station.

I am not a runner. A swimmer, yes. A hiker, a walker. But running is not my sport. Yet, I did it with relative ease.

After patting myself on the back for my impressive stamina, I scanned the immaculately clean station floor. There was not a scrap of paper to be seen.

I went to the office window in the station. The gentleman assured me he had gone through every single ticket and my train pass wasn’t there. A woman stood beside him, looking like she wished she could help.

After some discussion about the lost pass, I explained that I would need it for my 6:45 train the day after tomorrow. Could I get it replaced?

“Not at this station. We are too small. We have no way to issue those passes.”

Then he asked, “Are you sure you don’t have it anywhere?”

“No, I checked all my pockets.”

He and the woman went into the backroom to do a little research as to how to help me.

It was then that I looked down.

My rain jacket has a pocket in exactly the same spot as my fleece’s dedicated ticket pocket.

I unzipped it.

There was my pass!

“Sumimasen!” I called to the station employees. “I found it!!”

They came out of the backroom, all smiles.

After profuse apologies and many bows from me, we all rejoiced in that happy ending.

Much relieved, I went out of the station just as a bus pulled up. I popped my head in and asked the driver if he would be going down the street that passes my hotel.

“Sure, hop on!”

It was a grand adventure in the rain.

…but it did leave me wondering about my mental state.

The post It’s All Part of the Adventure—of Travel and of Life first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

The Eternally Waiting Mother and Child

After visiting a shrine to Sugawara no Michizane in the far northwest of Kagoshima Prefecture, I chose to return home by a road that runs along the western shore of the Satsuma peninsula. The view never fails to impress. The coastline is rugged, and the turquoise waves crash upon irregular, dark volcanic rocks.

One particular area struck me so otherworldly that I stopped the car and scampered down to the beach to get a closer look. On the way, I saw a sign with an interesting tale handed down from prehistory. The boat described in the story was a type used during the Jomon Era (14,000 BC-600 BC in southern Kyushu).

Here is the story.

The Ningyō-Iwa Story

Long, long ago, in a cave on Sanpachi Island, lived a young fisherman with his wife and cute baby.

Each day, the young father would get into his dugout boat and take to the sea in search of fish. On one perfectly ordinary day, after kissing his wife and baby goodbye, he was out fishing when the weather suddenly changed. A strong gust of wind capsized his small boat. The young man sank to the depths of the sea.

The mother, knowing nothing of her husband’s plight, hugged her sweet baby tight, sat in their cave, and prayed for his safe return. The days passed. The mother sat resolutely waiting, holding her baby, until by and by, they both died.

The god who protected the sea floor was moved with pity for this tragic family. To preserve their memories for perpetuity, he turned the mother with babe in arms into stone. Likewise, the young man and his boat were transformed into stone at the bottom of the sea.

As the ages passed, the cave in which the mother and baby had waited was gradually eaten away by the wind and waves, revealing their stone figures. No one knows when, but their images came to be called “the human-shaped boulders,” often mistaken to be “doll rocks,” as the characters are the same, 人形岩, ningyō-iwa.

If you are lucky enough to pass by at just the right time, you might be able to witness the stone form of a man on a boat emerge from the sea to have a tête-à-tête by the shore with the eternally waiting mother and child.

Ningyō-iwa is 13 km north of Satsumasendai Station.

The post Ningyo-Iwa—The Curious Stones of Nishikata Town, Kagoshima first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.