There's Metal in Them There Hills

Tuesday 22nd September 2009

AM

Least: Just after 10:30am, I patted my pockets to discover that I had left a notebook containing cruicial navigational data on the Shinkansen. Luckily, as I scoured the frightening map of JR East train lines, I saw a familiar station or two and, after sweating for a few minutes, worked out which four trains we had to catch. Although I was mildly confident of reaching Okutama, every change of train brought with it a nagging horror and complete disorientation. It was a relief to actually make it three hours later.

Most: At exactly 8:17am, the N700 Shinkansen on which we were travelling departed Shin-Osaka station. Although it was not my first ride on the crazy machine, it was interesting to see Japan fly by at at 300km/h. It was amazing to see the relentless industrial suburbia that stretched from Osaka to Shin-Yokohama interrupted only by scattered rice paddies. At one point I saw a lone man playing a saxophone in a deserted carpark, I hope our speeding bullet didn't disrupt him too much.

PM

Least: Not long after 1:20pm, we walked into Okutama, and after decoding the timetable, came to the stunning realisation that the number 12 bus that would take us to Tamagawa wasn't leaving until 2:45pm. After strolling around the sleepy town for ten minutes, eating a large fish on a stick (see food note), and buying needless snack to break an ichiman, Okutama left us in bored agony. We and already travelled for five hours, yet still we had to wait. A stone cold soba meal eased the pain, but the sight of the bus just sitting there was excruciating. Rosie reported that the toilets in the train station were appalling.

Most: By 5:20pm, we were watching Palm in full flight, playing before a backdrop of incredibly green and steep mountains. The camp was a carbon copy of the American summer camps as seen in horror movies, with an overuse use of logs for construction. The camp was beside an amazingly clear river (the Tamagawa) that revealed the no-doubt delicious trout waiting to be caught. Although the festival was not well attended, the atmosphere was great, with people barbecuing, drinking beer and listening to blistering grindcore. The musical highlights were Birushanah and Palm, although most of the bands were awesome. Thankfully Sano, from Hokage, organised a bungalow for the night and although uncomfortable, was far better than sleeping in the dust like some people did. A cracking night.

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Food Note: In Okutama, I bought a large trout that had been salted then roasted on a stick. The old codgers who were selling them probably caught them in the river and made a killing as people waited hours for buses. The fish was delicious in its simplicity and probably a bargain given that we were virual captives in that town.