Japan Exodus - Day 38: Amazing Things Tend To Happen When You Hang With A Guy Named Go

There is a trend in Asia about giving and retaining nick names. I cant quite put my finger on it. Take for example my favorite example: the city of Bankok, Thailand. I think that if you utter the word Bangkok to most people, they could point it out on a map. However, utter the city's real full length name and you would be hard pressed to find anyone who could do such pointing, much less pronounce the words, much much less understand what you are talking about. Bangkok's full name is:

Krung Thep Mahanakhon Amon Rattanakosin Mahinthara Ayuthaya Mahadilok Phop Noppharat Ratchathani Burirom Udomratchaniwet Mahasathan Amon Piman Awatan Sathit Sakkathattiya Witsanukam Prasit

No, I'm not joking - so I am serious when I say there is a culture for nick names in Asia. The point of all this is to bring attention to my friend Go, who's full name or nick name might be just that. I never really pressured him into telling me, and he never really explained it to me. But, like the small storm we just survived, if you don't force anything to happen, things work out on their own.

Along nick names, there is a familiarity with the Spanish language in Japan. I have pointed this out a few times I believe. "Pan" is the work for bread in Japanese, and may words sound exactly the same in Spanish as they do in Japanese, although with completely different meanings. (An instance of this is "casa" spelled with a "c" in Spanish to mean "house", and a "k" in Japanese to mean "umbrella"). And if you go back to watch Rintaro's Metropolis (2001) you'll hear that the two main characters name their dectective robot "pero" - which of course means "dog" in Spanish and continues to be a common name for dogs in Japan. 

That was my long, divergent way of introducing you to the family dog, whoes name is not pero, but Pera.  

Ought morning be any different? Though I had fallen asleep before Go's mother had, I had also apparently waken up later than she had too. Upon walking the stairs back down to the main kitchen area, breakfast was already in preparation and within 20 minutes we the early morning risers of the family where already conversation over coffee, fresh fruit, and everything else you see before you.  

Finally, finally after all the good byes and photos and welcome back requests, Go and I could mount the bikes and put some km in for the day. Go had grown up here, so he know the terrain well. He knew just where to go and what the quickest route out of town is while avoiding all the cars and trains along the bike path. 

The city of Kainan is not huge, not small either. At least, there is a train station here where I met Go's father last night. The same can not be said of Tosa where I lived for two years. 

Days after the storm are pretty. I really love to be outdoors when the air is fresh like today. The wind is not alway in our favor, though after some turns it does push us along quite a bit.


Now for a bit of unexpected greatness.

The yesterday came with an unwanted storm but it also came with unexpected information. A tip slipped through the casual conversation about a ramen shop, the ramen shop to visit around these parts. Let me correct myself. Not just these parts if you can believe it. Actually the highest consistent rating of ramen soup in all of Japan for the last significant years.

A similar recognition happens in San Francisco among my favorite burrito shop, El Farro. Before it became a trendy "thing to do" in SF, the shop was where working class people would go to get good cheap food. That evolved from a service into popular attraction, where waiting in line was a custom you had to go along with if you wanted dinner, or a 2am shrimp and steak snack. Today, from what I hear, the place is not what it used to be, with price increases and an absurd waiting time these days. But enough of my snobbery down-nosing, this place is (from when I left) still hands down the best burrito that money can buy.

And now, on to the best ramen shop in all of Japan.

Much like the ice cream shop that we visited the afternoon before, a casual onlooker might not expect any such rich flavored establishment to reside in an area so desolate of population. We cycled down roads of river, through nothing but farmlands and rice paddy fields before we came to a single turn, down a single street with only a few moderate houses and a small unused temple grounds, between which lay an unsuspecting restaurant with a man holding a clipboard standing outside like a bouncer at a New York styled back alley nightclub.

We had arrived. We had arrived early in fact, by an hour and a half. Yet,there had already been 41 people registered on the list before us. We would have to wait. This is what is known as Golden Week traffic. 

You are looking at just a portion of the awards this restaurant plasters on its walls. To be named "best" is I think a hope of any ramen shop, to have the recognition three years in a row is truly remarkable. Along another wall there were other awards, among them a huge plaque signaling that this place was named one of "top three restaurants in Japan 2016." Nothing to turn up your nose at for sure.  

Upon the savory meals splashing against my tongue, my senses were "a raging torrent, flooded with rivulets of thought, cascading into a waterfall of creative alternatives." Don't believe me, go out to Wakayama and try it yourself! 

A very happy couple of cyclists working off the excellent ramen we just ate. That bowl of soup will power you up and down hills for days to come. Lucky for us, we are taking the coastal route to enjoy the water and salty breeze.

So that you have an idea of exactly the wonderfulness and ferocity of color contrasts we experienced along the ups and downs of southern Wakayama beach life. 

There came a time when we came to the agreement that we had cycled enough for the day. That decision came with cool rest a beach with some nicely timed bento boxes and some serious waves created by the wind from the previous day's storm. Here I captured Go as he posed with perfect timing with a big wave.

A new Japanese word seems to hit my vocabulary daily. Today the word is given by Go himself as he caught me staring into the water; a habit that I am guilty of many times along this cross country trip. The Japanese word is 黄昏れる．Phonetically the word (phrase really) is ta-so-ga-re-ru. The directly translation doesn't make sense, so I'll give you the understood meaning which is to contemplate manners while being lost in the beauty of the mountains or ocean. 

The wind was indeed howling that afternoon. We decided to better set up camp where we could find a little wind barrier, less our tents fly away and end up inconveniently in the running river along side this swell park we stumbled upon. 

As an early birthday present to myself, I spend a little money on something that - ironically three years deep into my travels - I have done without. A compact cooking stove! 

Carrying around gas canisters is a little off-putting at first. I thought that risk of explosion would really preoccupy my bike thinking. And, it has a little. Every day gets a little easier. However, the benefits way outbalance the liabilities. I get to cook what I want again!

Although tonight was the first meal even cooked on in this operation, I have since started a small stove meal wish list filled with things that I suppose I could make using this set up. So, get ready, I'll be posting some of my food creations in future posts =)

Tonight was all about celebrations. A good year had passes since my friend and I could hang out together out in the open. So much has changed since then. One thing that has not is our love for grilled meat and veggies. YUM!!

The sun eventually set on us, and we did stay up a little past the time just to say we did. When the stars started to become visible we packed up and made for our separate tents for the night. Tomorrow will likely be the last day before Go has to make his way back and prepare things with his family and turn his attention once again to his new job working for Mont Bell. 

Me? I have no such occupations to turn my attention to, so I kept on up gazing at the stars. Who knows what tomorrow will hold, and as I look up at the stars looking at me, remembering that what we are actually looking at when we see stars in the night sky is actually the light from them that could have taken anywhere from a few years, to several thousands of years to reach earth. Even, that there are some things we can see in the sky that  we can observe, but that the light takes so long to reach out little planet that the source of light we see might actually not even exist any more.

And with that sort of humbling interpretation of time and distance, it is so easy to fall asleep (for me). As Queen said, "Nothing really matters."

Light speed Love,
-A