Izu Road Trip

By Friday morning, Helen, Amy, and I were on our way to the Izu Peninsula in a rental car. Our road trip officially began with a stop at the combini on the next block, so we could get a beer. Our destination was just past Shimoda, the supposed landing site of The Black Ships (Admiral Perry's fleet that re-opened Japan to the West in 1853. Although I have read conflicting literature on where they actually landed, some say other places, but Shimoda plays it up for tourism).














Amy, who had gotten her international driver's license before she left England, did all the driving (thank you, Amy!). It was really a lovely drive, too, once we got away from the city. Lots of hilly green stuff, kind of reminded me of driving in the foothill of the Cascades. And then Fuji!















We stopped at Gotemba Premium Outlets on the way, which at first seemed to be like other outlet malls I had been to in the States, but it was much bigger and had Mt Fuji in the background. I got the dress of my dreams at French Connection (which I had only know by its infamous initials fcuk). I wouldn't normally have spent so much on a dress, but it was GORGEOUS and half-off. I HAD to, Jeff, if you're reading this, you'll understand when you see it. (Jeff is currently in Virginia for work).





























After we had some cheap lunch at the food court (I will always prefer Japanese food courts. For little more than the price of a greasy piece of Sbarro's pizza, I can get a bowl of udon with tempura), we finished the trip. It got really windy (as in wiggly, not blustery)-- ridiculously so as we screwed down the Spiral Bridge, Amy's least-favorite part of the drive.















(I did not take this picture, by the way)

We got into the Ohama beach area around dinner time. Helen had stayed at a guest house a couple years ago and we were going to try that one, banking that there would be rooms. It was the week after Golden Week, after all. Turns out we were the only guests in the place, so we got not only a room, but a whole house to ourselves.















Okay, it's not entirely true that we were the only guests. The was an alarmingly-large spider in our room also.















The environs of the house were cute little farms growing all sorts of known and mysterious vegetables.















We had small dinner at The Paradise Cafe, which is owned by Kenny, a good friend of Mooney's and also a blues-guitar player.















There had been a border dispute with the new owners of the hotel next door, so the whole place was moved over about a meter! The newly re-opened bar has all brand new, good-smelling wood and a vaguely Hawaiian theme (Kenny's wife is Hawaiian). My only complaint was the reggae music. At least it was Bob Marley, which is about the only reggae I can tolerate (stemming from a good memory of making a vegetarian Thanksgiving dinner with Karla in San Francisco). I think we heard the same CD 80 times over the course of the weekend, possibly because the CD player was in a really inaccessible location and too hard to change. Anyway, we drank, and met Dave (London) and Todd (Australia). We wove our way back to the guest house and fell asleep on our futons to the sound of frogs.

In the morning, as we were getting ready to go out and hit the beach, the nice lady who ran the place gave us some large, heavy citrus fruits that grow in the trees outside (I forget what they are called). Six of them actually. We had no way to eat them, as they had really thick rinds and we had no knife, but we figured they made excellent beach-mat weights. We had some beans and toast at Paradise Cafe (an English student favorite, I was told. Never had it before. Not bad.)











The beach was nearly deserted, maybe because it was a less-popular one (apparently nearby Shirahata is where all The Kids hang out), so it was quite peaceful. We did some exploring of the crazy volcanic-looking rock-formations, the mini-islands marooned in the sand, and the cave that is popular for after-dark parties. Other than that, we laid around, snacked and played cards at the cafe across the road (I learned to play whist, which is a game I've always read about in Jane Austen-type novels. It's just like euchre), played with bubbles, waded in the water (the Brits called it 'going for a paddle'), watched the surfers wait eternally for a decent wave, and generally lazed about. After standing in the surf for a while, mesmerized by the water, I noticed my legs were used to the cold of it. Actually, I think they had gone numb, because I realized how cold it really was when I gave in to temptation to play in the waves. I think I spent maybe five goose-bumpy minutes in the water and got a lot of sand in my underwear (less said, the better), but I considered it worth it.







































































When we headed back to the house for showers, Martine sent Helen a message that she was on her way down, but realized that she had left her overnight bag, with her best friend/security blanket (i.e., her camera) in it, on one of the trains. (it turned out okay, don't worry - she contacted the right people immediately, and got to pick it up when she headed back the next day.) We picked her up in Shimoda and drove back to where we were staying. We had an amazing dinner at Restaurant Marley (I had sauteed scallops in a basil sauce, yummy local veggies, pumpkin cream soup, and a crusty baguette). Five stars. It's name has nothing to do with Bob, by the way, but it was an odd coincidence.

Back to the Paradise Cafe. Amy was exhausted and allergy-ridden, so she left early. Then Martine left. Helen and I were going to have just one more while we played whist, but our game had attracted a stray American woman called Lisa, and then her Irish friend Dave, who insisted we had to play some sort of game for money. It ended up being hearts, and we three losers had to buy Dave a drink. He was very Irish. Very cool, too. He has 3 young kids and told me to call him if I ever came down with my family (hey, Jeff, what are we doing the weekend of June 9th?). Anyway, we ended up leaving at 3 or so.

In the morning, we poked around getting up and had a small breakfast back at Marley (yummy yogurt with honey and a prune in it. Sounds weird, but it was good). Martine and I said hello/goodbye to the beach for a minute (much windier and full of happier surfers) while Helen and Amy checked out and packed up the car with our stuff (thanks, guys!)


































We headed into Shimoda to use the Post Office ATM (I was low on cash) and look around for a minute.






























We then drove onwards to Ito for lunch. We were bribed into a place with free (very small) beers and got this bubbling dry-iced fruit tray as a free service:















I had some great sushi, as one would expect from a sea-side town. Not cheap, but quite nice. I can't believe I ever ate Safeway sushi.















I came home to a clean, empty house, and Mother's Day flowers on the table. The kids were at a bbq (Jeff had dropped the boys off with Kumi's mom so he could get on a plane and I could taken my time getting back). It was a great homecoming. Thanks Helen (planning and guiding), Amy (driving), Jeff (lots of reasons), and Kumi's mom for a great trip and a nice homecoming.

As always, more pictures can be found here.