City of Bifka

Bifuka village is the northernmost point in Japan, and possibly in the world, where rice is grown. In English it's written Bifuka, but the Japanese pronounce it exactly as Bifuka. There's a railway here that was never used for its intended purpose after construction. First it rusted from dew and rain, and now they've turned it into an attraction. Anyone can ride this railway on a handcar for 500 yen. Notably, besides the 500 yen, you need to have a driver's license. Bifuka village itself resembles South Park with its one street, one policeman, bar and shop.

What came as a surprise was that this is exactly where I found free WiFi. Many tourists who use the internet while traveling remember at least once circling the city streets with their arm stretched up, clutching their phone, searching for WiFi. A restaurant worker was staring at me with bulging eyes as I did exactly this. I was circling around, standing up on my bicycle, holding the handlebars with one hand and my phone with the other, like a general on horseback sending his legion into attack. I stopped near her, surprised. "Internet." "Ah-ah-ah, internet," she smiled. "OK, OK." She pointed to a little house nearby where I could catch internet. It was already five in the evening. This was another point on the map I was heading to, hoping to find the warmth and comfort of a hotel or hostel. Now realizing that for this fourth night too I'd be sleeping in a tent, I decided to just sit down and write in my blog. An hour later the cook came up to me and asked: "OK?" "OK." She took out her phone and typed in Google Translator "Where do you sleep?" "Nowhere yet." She picked up her phone again and this time opened Google Maps. We found an onsen and campsite near Bifuka together.

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An onsen is a great place to meet people. Especially if you stand out from everyone with your eye shape and nose length. "Where are you from?" an elderly man with a high voice addressed me. "Umm, born and raised in Russia, but now I live in Israel." "Oh, Israel, I was there a year ago." He speaks with a smile but looks off to the side. "Really? As a tourist? Where exactly were you?" "No, I was invited to design several private villas there, I'm an architect." At 60+ he's traveling alone on a motorcycle through Japan for ten days. We shared impressions about Hokkaido, and I had to leave him because I'd been sitting in the hot bath for a long time already and needed to go to the cold one, then to the sauna. By the way, now I have an onsen towel for 100 yen, growing little by little. In the sauna I was asked the same question. This time it was a guy from Wakkanai who works as a sales manager at a company that imports crabs. "Where do you bring crabs from? From Kholmsk?" "No, mainly from Korsakov." "What are you doing here in Bifuka?" "Oh, I came here for work..." "And you sleep in a tent? Why not in a hotel?" "A hotel isn't as convenient. Here I bought bread, cheese and sausages and made something like pizza over a fire, it's cool, and besides I want to save money." I remember his story about how he went to Jerusalem as a tourist. "I was there at Christmas. There, in the old city, some people loaded crosses onto their backs." The manager laughs out loud, holding his hand to his mouth, remembering this extraordinarily funny scene for him. "They loaded huge wooden crosses onto their backs and carried them down the street." Seeing my polite smile, he explained: "I'm Buddhist, it's hard for me to understand."

At that moment the architect entered the sauna, said he had to go and said goodbye, wishing me a pleasant journey. This simplicity and attention to people is admirable. I mean, an Israeli architect of international level (I don't know about Russian ones) goes to bed and wakes up thinking he's a cool architect and flushes the toilet not without sorrow, admiring his creations. I don't know if he would bathe in a bathhouse for five dollars and travel alone on a motorcycle.