Meeting Shu in the Alps

I had to get off my bike, and there's no asphalt here anymore. Between the trees hangs a sign "This path is for people enjoying nature". The scene is like an ad: a young family couple with a child sitting on pebbles by a crystal clear mountain river, with an impressive mountain range in the background. Then in close-up we see the guy holding a red Nescafe mug in one hand while supporting a child sitting on his lap with the other, his young wife slightly leaning over playing with the baby. Suddenly a duck lands half a meter away, and everyone laughs from surprise and delight. Next shot the wife smiles at her husband, then looks away at the mountain landscape and takes a sip from the red mug. Wide shot of the scene. Coffee commercial music.

The couple didn't actually have mugs, and there was no duck at that moment. But I didn't make up the duck - it landed half a meter from me later when I was sitting with a can of coffee, listening to the twilight and chatting. The overall atmosphere there is like this: fairytale-like, flawless. I pitched my tent next to an artist. He lives there permanently. When I approached, he was cooking some soup with tofu. Paintings stand on easels outside, painted with broad strokes - the kind you need to look at from a distance, but I went up close because I wanted to catch the smell of oil paints. The artist pulled out a big journal and asked me to write down my name and postal address, then he gave me a newspaper clipping with an article about him. Under the article was an address, the postal address of this very tent.

This place is like a shelter, a nest, I don't know what else to call it. There's an atmosphere of its own world here - these vast spaces and views high in the mountains are nevertheless very cozy. The tents around are all solo. Nearby a cyclist is reading a map, a bit further some guy is drying socks by a fire - everyone has their own story. This place is like an intersection point of several completely different paths... Regular tourists left long ago, I'm strolling along the river. A young couple dressed casually is drinking beer on a log.

— I worked here at a local hotel. Today is my last day, tomorrow I'm returning to Tokyo. — She's bringing her friend a whole bag of sweets. Look here. — there really was a white bag lying by the log, stuffed with cookies, chocolate and everything else. That's when the duck flew over to us and walked between us like nothing happened, and we laughed with delight and surprise. I went to the Onsen and met Shu there. — How how? — Shu, like shoes.

Shu works at a local restaurant and lives somewhere near Osaka. — Ma matsav? (how are you in Hebrew) — that's how he responded when I said where I'm from. — I once traveled around India with an Israeli guy. For a whole month. It's nice to hear good things about your country. In Shu's opinion, Israelis are very warm, and five minutes after meeting them you're talking like good friends. — Japanese aren't like that. Even after long conversations there's some kind of distance. — I don't know, I've met many Japanese people, they seem friendly and responsive to me. Maybe because I'm a foreigner? — Yes, yes, most likely. — so we dispelled the myth about Japanese responsiveness.

In the evening it got cold. The sky was covered with clouds, rain was gathering. I climbed into my tent, fed, washed and peaceful. Unpacked my sleeping bag, put on warm hoodie, pants. I immediately understood why I'd been dragging all these things in my bags for a month and a half without wearing them once. Even if later I won't have to wear them again, one evening spent here is worth it.

Here's a recipe for happiness: from Shinjuku station in Tokyo you can take a bus for 3400 yen. Camping costs another 400, food depends on your preferences and appetite. You should stop in these places for about three days, and if you have hiking clothes then even for a week to climb the local mountains. The next day early morning I went to the restaurant to say goodbye to Shu and headed to Takamatsu - a city nicknamed little Kyoto.