First day on Honshu, meeting the sailors

As soon as the sun rose, the measured, even romantic atmosphere of coastal Aomori turned into grueling pedal grinding. An electronic thermometer on one of the streets shows 32 degrees, but on top of that the air is so humid that sweat pours out like abundant juice from every pore. There's no escape from the sun under trees or under buildings — the sun is at its zenith and it seems like it's not alone. I need to find an attachment for a gas burner so I can take cereals and noodles with me on the road.

Until this day I'd been eating ready-made meals — thank God, Japan has more than four chains of stores where you can buy ready lunches. Sushi, chicken with sides, instant noodles. My favorites are rice balls with filling. There are ones with shrimp, caviar, beef and tuna. Two such balls for 100 yen each, some juice to go with it — makes an excellent lunch. Now I want to take noodles with me and brew coffee in the morning.

Looking for the attachment, I visited three Home Centers. Found all kinds of camping gear in them except for this attachment. It's already around two o'clock, and I need to get moving. Darkness will fall at seven and I have five hours to find a place to stay. Halfway to Lake Towada, according to Google Maps, there's a campground located between Hakkoda and Kushigamine mountains. Maybe I'll manage to reach the lake. Two in the afternoon is too late an hour for big trips. I left the city, finding myself in the already familiar rural countryside. But even though bamboo still broke through in places, wood sorrel and burdock flashed by, a different shade could already be traced in the roadside thickets. The 43-kilometer-wide strait separating the two islands had played its role.

The road goes up. The map didn't tell me that the gorge between two famous mountains is also a mountain. I'm gaining altitude on a steep serpentine. There's a sign on the shoulder: 10-degree climb. I have to get off the bike and wheel it alongside. The road goes along the side of the mountain where the sun is starting to set. Its darkened circle behind a thin strip of trees is cooking me like a chicken on a spit, or shawarma. On an intermediate peak there's a spacious platform with blue sky above it. Crows sit in tall grass, and beyond that a view of the mountains. They seem so high, despite the fact that I've already gained about four hundred meters. Still, in the mountains, the same mountains around look more beautiful. Each new height is marked with a sign: "National Park...". Japan has many parks; nature, despite its apparent wildness, is equipped for convenient access. At one of the heights stands a monument to someone's military glory, and from a wooden box, when you approach it, a song plays. Every driver, from old to young, stops and reads the song lyrics engraved on the marble slab. It started getting dark, and I still hadn't reached either the campground or Lake Towada. With the first hint of darkness, mosquitoes swarmed in. The phenomenon is that it's hard to catch a mosquito with your hand, but very easy with your eyelids. I don't know why these creatures fly right in front of your face. If they buzzed over your ears, I'd put on headphones and keep going. I'm no longer riding, just walking — pushing the bike uphill. About twenty mosquitoes are flying with me, and each one wants to look me in the eyes. Out of irritation I threw down the bike and started swatting at them. If a mosquito could talk, I'd catch it and enjoy the sounds of its pleas for mercy while tearing off its wings, but it can't, it just flies around and gets in my eyes.

Riding became unbearable, the mosquito repellent doesn't help. I abandoned the bicycle and started flagging down any car. Fortunately, the first car turned out to be a minivan. A young couple was sitting in it. "Hello, can I ride with you to the top?" The guy helped me stuff the bike into the spacious trunk, and I got in there myself. "What's your country?" the smiling girl turned to me. "Israel." The most ordinary conversation. They're heading to Tokyo from Aomori, I should be there in about twenty days, a crazy thought flashed through my head, but no! "To Tokyo? Oh that's a big distance, how long will it take you?" "Nine hours."

Meanwhile, the minivan was laboriously climbing the mountain, and listening to the engine sound, I realized how naively I had calculated reaching the lake. We reached a place called Sky Onsen in the mountains. This is not far from the campground. On the platform — another height-shelf on the mountain stood a Japanese-style complex, and old men in white kimonos with black inserts were walking around. I let my saviors go, taking a farewell photo. The guy handed me his business card. "I'm an artist, I paint with oils. This is my painting."

On the business card was printed a painting, something like space with stars. To get to the campground, I need to overcome one more small but high elevation. Google Maps directs me to where there seemingly is no passage, but I blindly trust it and soon find myself on a large platform with tents. Such a sight has long made me feel joy like being home after a long journey. The campground has a number of standard things. Toilet, covered pavilion with taps and sinks. I rode up to them to drink. In the pavilion sat four young guys my age who looked at me. "Hello..." "Hello." "Konbanwa (good evening in Japanese)." The guys laughed approvingly at my attempt.

They're all cadets from a maritime college, taking a course to prepare ship navigators to work later on cargo ships. You can become a sailor in Japan by graduating from maritime school and getting higher maritime education, but these guys came to it differently. They all already have higher education. "I studied political science." "And I studied economics." "And then what? Changed your minds?" The economist grimaced — it's better at sea. They invited me to share their barbecue with them. One of them hesitated for a long time before asking. "Do you eat pork?" "Yes, I'm not religious." Later, when it was completely dark, we walked to Sky Onsen, the same one where the couple from Tokyo had brought me. There's a special ticket for campground guests. When we went inside, the political scientist turned to me with an animated smile. "This is a unisex onsen!"