Tuesday, 10 December 2013
Although we didn't have a bathtub on the balcony and I wasn't going to head down to the baths to take in the sunrise, I was up early to watch the sun play over snow-capped peaks while I hacked away at the Travelogue.
I probably should have been up slightly earlier, since I wanted to get the first rays hitting the snowy summit.
Although I was a tad late, the view was still spectacular as I tapped away with regular pauses to enjoy the interaction between rising sun, snowy peak and cloud.
I suspected it was snowing up there, and the peak seemed to have acquired an extra coating overnight.
Madam, of course, had another go at the onsen, and I had a shower once she was back in the room.
Three visits to the heated waters in two days was enough to be going on with and, in any case, water and electronic devices don't mix all that well.
Breakfast started arriving just before eight, and it was something I'd had reservations about, but I was OK once I sighted the salmon. Between that and the rice, I was sure of enough to keep me going for an hour or three. I picked at various other bits and pieces, none of which were impressive enough to have me eschewing the Western end of future Breakfast Vikings.
And if the Western end doesn't exist as long as there are salmon and rice I'll be cool. I'm acquiring a penchant for the orange coloured fish that'll go close to matching Madam's.
We headed back upstairs to pack, and, predictably back down to the lobby to check out and wait for the shuttle transfer to Tsugawa station
The transfer to the station came with a history lesson delivered by the driver that was incomprehensible to Your Correspondent, so I came to the conclusion that I'd have to do my own.
The attempt to do so, once I was reunited with the desktop machine, proved singularly unsuccessful. It delivered a timely reminder that the entire sum of human knowledge hasn't found its way onto the Web. There are aspects of regional Japanese history that aren't accessible to English-language Google searches.
Contrary to expectations, we were travelling onwards from Tsugawa, which I'd been led to believe was the end of the line.
Our train the day before terminated there, but the line goes on, through Kanose on the other side of the river from last night's onsen, then dives into a tunnel and emerges at Hideya.
From there, it passed through equally obscure localities: Toyomi, Kaminojiri, Nozawa, Onobori, Ogino, and Yamato as we moved from Niigata Prefecture into the nuclearly-known Fukushima Prefecture, but we were a comfortable distance from the troubled and troublesome reactor.
At least, I hoped we were.
The run to Aizuwakamatsu took the best part of an hour and a quarter, weaving its way along river valleys between snow-capped ranges.
It wasn't quite spectacular scenery with constant Wow! Factors, but a continually changing vista with significant spots where the view was breathtaking.
Madam reckoned it was going to snow tomorrow, but I was glad we were there when we were there.
Once we'd changed trains in Aizuwakamatsu, it was more of the same, though the weather started to close in halfway through the second hour-long section.
By the time we disembarked at Koriyama, it had closed in completely, a misty grey wall that meant there wasn't going to be much to see.
But we'd seen been along this next section of Shinkansen line a couple of times before, so that wasn't an issue.
Lunch, on the other hand, was definitely an issue, since I needed something and the first bento stall we ran across had run out of my preferred option.
I grabbed a spicy chicken roll and a can of Yebisu Red on the way to the Shinkansen.
Predictably, after we made the purchases, the route to Platform 13 took us past stalls where I'd probably have found what I'd been looking for.
In any case, I wasn't worried.
We were looking at dinner in Yokohama's Chinatown, and all I needed was something that resembled a snack to keep me going until then.
And, of course, Yebisu.
On the train, speeding through the misty rain, everything was hunky-dory.
The conditions suggested that the Frockster Factor might have come into play if we were heading onwards beyond Yokohama, but the weather lifted before Utsomiya. The last bit of the run into Tokyo went in under blue skies and bright sunshine that meant I was glad of the shade provided by hanging coats.
Once we'd made our way into Tokyo and disembarked, the next issue involved finding the right line to Yokohama.
There are three of them, constructed at different times along different corridors with varying numbers of stops along the way.
That last bit delivered the rub.
We ended up on the line that delivered the quickest transfer, switched lines in Yokohama and got off a stop later to take the brisk walk to the New Otani Inn Yokohama. It's a proper flash new turnout perched atop a retail complex, with further shopping, sightseeing and entertainment options proliferating around the environs.
It was an impressive locale. While it was slightly disappointing to find the room wasn't on the seaward side, that was alleviated by discovering the view from the window included Mount Fuji.
Not all of the mountain, as it seemed the deities hadn't been totally mollified.
Clouds covered the summit, but they'd relented enough to show us the distinctive shape.
Cloud and afternoon sun meant evidence to prove what we'd just seen wasn't quite forthcoming. The chance of a look at Fuji shaped plans for after we'd accomplished two tasks we'd set ourselves for the next day.
It was a while before we were due to meet The Translator for dinner. We killed part of the waiting time in the room before venturing out for a walk around the vicinity.
As soon as we were downstairs, it started to threaten us with rain. So it was a case of back upstairs to grab the umbrellas before we went too much further.
That, at least, killed off a bit more time before we headed back to the station for the two-stop journey that landed us on the fringe of Yokohama's Chinatown.
The text message correspondence had arranged a meeting under the gate nearest the station, but those decorated gateways aren't exactly scarce in and around a Chinatown.
Yokohama's version is more extensive than most, and the supply of likely gates is correspondingly confusing. I reckoned we'd reached the right one as soon as we walked outside the station.
There was, however, no sign of our friend. We knew she was already at the rendezvous, so the nearest gate to the station wasn't actually the most adjacent gate to the station if you catch my drift.
It all, as it does so often when you're making your way out of a station with multiple exits, depends on taking the right exit.
Once we'd made the rendezvous, it was a matter of finding somewhere to eat. That process involved a lengthy wander through labyrinthine streets that seemed to have us going in circles.
I may well be wrong in that assertion, but we kept passing familiar-looking signs that were a little more common than you might have thought.
We eventually landed in a place where the food was excellent. For the three of us, a plate of stir-fried greens, another of beef done the same way, won ton soup in between them and fried rice to finish, washed down by draught beer.
All in all, the substantial meal was nothing out of the ordinary but was entirely satisfactory and reasonably priced.
It would have taken a cross-country forced march to work off what we'd consumed. While cross-country was out of the question, a further wander covered a fair slice of Chinatown.
A wrong turn delivered us to a station between the one beside the hotel and the one where we'd disembarked on the way to dinner.
With everyone heading in the same direction and a train waiting and ready to go, that meant farewells were a fair bit more abrupt than they would otherwise have been. Within a couple of minutes of boarding the train, we were back on the doorstep of the New Otani.
A glance around the neighbourhood had Madam keen on an excursion to look at the shopping centre's Christmas lights.
But I'd had enough for the day. I declined a nightcap and settled down for a short read of the Leonard Cohen biography before it was time for lights out, with the prospect of a view of Fuji in the morning.