hokkaido memo vol. 2

Biei is a very small town located on the southern flank of the Daisetsu Mountains, so to get there from Asahidake, I had to take a bus down from the highlands to Asahikawa, and then hug the mountain range about 40 minutes south on a commuter train. My hostel was technically located in the town of Bibaushi, which is one stop south of Biei, and could hardly even be called a town. When I asked where I could have dinner, the owner suggested that the only place for a meal would be to head back into Biei. I checked out Bibuashi, and it turns out he was right, the "town" is a gas station, two convenience stores, and a series of houses. Into to Biei it was.

The next day, I arose early to head back into Biei to check out the promised coffee shops, galleries, and bike rides in the charming little town. The town is beautiful, there is a main street that looks straight into the mountain range. There is a small business section of small shops, cafes, etc. It's charming, and friendly, but not too touristy. It reminds me of a Hood River twenty years before all the sleek shops and fancy cafes showed up.

I stumbled into town about 9 am, a little bummed to find out that the town famed for coffee shops had only one shop that I could find, and it wasn't even open yet. Absent any obvious breakfast places, I decided to just stumble around the town for the morning. The commercial district is a nice collection of tourist and local-oriented businesses. Clothing boutiques are situated next to farm supply stores, photography galleries next to local small town restaurants.

Where the town really shows it's charm, though, is in the residential neighborhoods. The houses have a rugged, frontier quality to them. There is a tired, rusty feel to the yards, many of which contain piles of old junk. What I really love about the houses, though, is the contrast between the rough, dirty appearance of the garages and workshops against the gardens. Given that there were still drifts of snow in the shadows, the gardens were not in their full glory. However, you feel a true beauty to them, the serene Japaneseness that I had come in search of. And on my day out, it seemed to be official sowing time, with dozens of old people out turning the soil for the vegetable gardens. But the best aspect of the houses was the bonsai trees. These were usually tucked back just around the corner or inside a fence, so I couldn't get many good pictures. Just seeing them and knowing that they were there, though, was exhilarating.


After the coffee shop had opened and I got some lunch, I rented a bike and decided the make the 10km trip through the countryside to Takushinkan, a museum/gallery featuring the work of Shinzo Maeda, a famous landscape photographer who took many pictures of the region. I fought a nasty headwind the whole way out, and struggled with a bike that was just not built for people of my size. I even considered turning around at one point, but luckily shamed myself out of that poor decision. The gallery was impressive, but it was more the view of the countryside that made the trip worth the perilous wind battle. The area is known for glorious fields of lavender. Needless to say, the fields were far from purple, and were in fact only a freshly tilled brown in most areas, but it was still gorgeous, especially the patchwork with the areas that were freshly sprouted green. Of course, the ride back was no problem.

I returned my bike and headed back out to Bibaushi. I made great friends with the crew at the hostel over coffee that night. Me being the only foreigner, they of course found it very exciting to talk to me once they all got over their shyness and fear of using their impressive English skills. They all found it absolutely hilarious that I live in Korea, and insisted on having a twenty minute conversation about kimchi. This is not the first time I've heard of kimchi being funny in Japan. I don't know what could possibly be so funny about spicy, smelly fermented cabbage.

With a heightened love for the Japanese people, I left Biei early the next morning to ensure that I could secure a room for the night in Sapporo. I easily acquired a room, and soon set off to explore the town some more. I found limited success in the botanic gardens (though there were some nice Rhododendrons and Magnolias in bloom). The Ainu museum there had an interesting artifact, however.

After the garden, I cruised down into the heart of the city, to return to a bizarre store I had encountered on my first day in Sapporo. This place is the quintessential crazy Japanese store that lived up to to every stereotype I had of what a crazy Japanese store could be. The thing is five stories high, and inside it, you can purchase everything from clothing to your groceries to several varieties of breast shaped pillow to camping stoves to French Maid costumes to school supplies to ashtrays that say "no weed, no life". Needless to say, it was pretty awesome, and obviously the place where I would find a nice souvenir for Taylor. (Which it finally delivered on the fourth floor, in the form of a blue translucent plastic human head piggy bank. It was awkward to pack, but totally worth it.)

I layed low in the afternoon, rereading "To Kill a Mockingbird" in preparation for my return to teaching. Evening came, and I ventured out for one final miso ramen and maybe a light beer at "Gaijin (Foreigner) Bar". I was wrong about the second activity. Upon entering Gaijin Bar, I couldn't help but notice the presence of Dead Guy Ale in the cooler. I had to have one. The bartender informed me that if I liked that, I should try one of the special Japanese market beers that Rogue Brewery makes. Japanese labels and all. I was ecstatic when I asked the bartender what the one with the label entirely in Japanese tasted like, and she answered, strong, bitter, hoppy. Keep in mind that it had been almost three quarters of a year since I'd had an IPA. I don't know if it even would have been better had she handed me fresh bong rip of Trainwreck. Needless to say, I ended up closing the bar and spending all my money on sweet, bitter Oregon beer, not to mention chatting with the local Sapporo foreigners. I was more than a little sad to say goodbye to Hokkaido the next morning.