We took the express train up to gain lost time, and it was the most beautiful train ride I've ever been on. The train traveled east for a bit before making the turn north. And once we turned north, the scenery changed rapidly. Mountains appears on both sides out of nowhere, and all of a sudden there was snow on the ground. And then it started snowing, all the trees on the mountains were covered with freshly fallen snow. We also went along the Kiso river briefly, which is called "The Danube of Japan." After a few rounds of nodding off only to wake up to more incredible nature, we arrived in Takayama.
We grabbed a map and headed for the district with the old houses. Most folks on these streets run stores on the first floor for tourists and live on the second floor. The whole time we were in Takayama, it was snowing. But given the fact the it was snowing, the temperature really wasn’t that bad. One of the sake shops along the street of old housing also had a sign out advertising soy sauce flavored soft serve. Yes, I know what you’re thinking-it sounds disgusting. Yet that’s the kind of thing that piques my curiosity, and I figured it had to be decent or they wouldn’t still be selling it. And lo and behold, it was delectable. To be fair, it didn’t really taste like soy sauce. If I really concentrated and tried to taste it, I could maybe get a hint, but it was so faint and so overpowered by the overall sweetness that it really just tasted like something completely different, and completely awesome. They also had a sake bottle with the triforce on it. Badass.
We wandered a bit more, exhausted the old shops district, and attempted to locate the local history museum/archive, but the street signposts were less than specific and we just ended up walking around town.
It was getting a bit chilly, but not quite dinnertime yet, so we stopped in a café for some macha (bitter, frothy green tea-made in tea ceremonies), sweets, and a hida beef croquette. Hida is the name for the northern region of Gifu prefecture, and it is famous for its high quality beef. There wasn’t much beef in the croquette, but it was still tasty and warm. The matcha was tasty, but I was surprised by the gelatin-like sweets, one of which was made from a pumpkin-esque local vegetable, and tasted decent. The other one was tomato based, and was less than pleasant to consume. Super sweet, sugary tomato flavor does not work well at all. After warming back up we thought of maybe heading south of the station to check out the folk village, but it would have been cutting it close with our train back to Gero and we were sick of walking in the snow, so we found a place for dinner. Ended up being lackluster, so I don’t have much to say about it. We headed back to the station and waited for the train.
Due to our late start, we were forced to take an express (read: faster, but more expensive) train up north to Takayama. In order to save a bit of money, we took the slower, local train from Takayama to Gero. This ended up being an interesting choice. As you may imagine, the local train doesn’t get a whole lot of the touristy type, they generally stay on the express trains. No, our train was mainly filled with high school students. We grabbed an open double seat, which happened to be facing another empty double seat (ideally for groups of 4, but that’s all that was left). About a minute before the train was to leave and older man motioned for the seat across from us and I told him “go ahead” in Japanese. This prompted him to look me up and down, and ask me quizzically, “So you understand Japanese?” The thought of faking horribly broken Japanese and saying I didn’t speak very well had crossed my mind, but I thought maybe he just wanted to ask a couple questions, and gave him the benefit of the doubt.
I ended up talking to this dude for the entire hour-long train ride, and translating select excerpts for Maria. He started out normally, with standard questions of where do you live? and what brings you up north? Then he went into how he was visiting some friends, and that that’s how old people have fun and enjoy themselves. Meet up with old friends over tea or dinner and just see they’re still doing all right. I told him I basically understood that idea of fun, and did a lot of smiling and agreeing with whatever he said. We kept talking and he asked if I drank sake at all. I told him I enjoy sake every once in awhile, at which point he tells me he travels with a bottle of sake, and drinks it whenever he is thirsty, as if it was tea. Those were his exact words. Then he pulled the bottle out of his backpack and showed me how he had it disguised in a cloth bag so folks don’t know he’s drinking. It was around here that I started getting a tinge of regret for not faking horrible Japanese. He didn’t seem too terribly drunk at the time, but I made a mental note that I was probably dealing with a crazy.
He then surprised me again by asking if Maria was my wife. Umm…what? He then explained his unexpectedly lucid reasoning: Maria had a ring on the designated “wedding finger.” Apparently it’s the only finger the ring fits on, but still, that could (and did) lead to some confusion. I explained she was just visiting for a couple weeks during her winter vacation and he then proceeded to grill me on where I had taken her and what aspects of Japanese culture I had introduced her to. I thought he’d be pleased when I told him when properly went to a shrine on New Year’s, rang the bell, prayed for good fortune and what not. He nodded and then asked if we had eaten Zoni soup, a special soup with rice paste in it that is traditionally supposed to be eaten as the clock strikes midnight. again for good fortune or health, etc. I don’t know how to make the stuff, so obviously Wallin and Maria had gone without, and may now potentially be doomed with bad luck. Good thing I bought those charms at the shrine!
Apparently that oversight was unacceptable and the guy started chewing me out a bit (not super seriously, but I was still taken aback a bit), saying “What the hell were you doing?! “You have to have her eat that!” “Geez, what were you thinking?” etc. etc. Then he proceeded to tell me month by month what are the traditional Japanese ways of having fun, and how Maria should experience them. February-Plum blossoms, March-Sakura blossoms, August-Fireworks…I forget what he all said. I don’t think he really caught when I said she was only in the country for a couple weeks. I just smiled and nodded, eventually earning some points back by talking about how we were heading to Gero for the hot springs. In the end, I’m quite glad the old dude was there and that I talked to him, because he pointed out for us when we stopped at Gero station. It was dark (about 8pm) so I couldn’t recognize it from the scenery or see any signs. And being the local train, they must assume you already know the order of the stops by memory, because they sure as heck aren’t announcing the train stops at all. So yeah, thank you old boozer, or we may have ended up way off course.
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