Flowers of Oshima
Recently, one of those rare, precious vacation periods came up (three consecutive days!), so I was off to Oshima island for some adventure. Inexplicably, Oshima and its chain of brethren is part of the Tokyo metropolitan area, but thankfully, the islands are nothing like that craphole. Actually, Oshima is nothing like any part of Japan I’ve yet seen, which made it more pleasant and refreshing than I had anticipated.
So, anyway, I reserved passage on a jet foil (a ship with a fucking jet engine!!!) from the city of Atami, set to depart at 10AM. This required getting up at 5AM and riding a hell of a lot of trains, and I still only just made it. Upon arrival to the island, I was greeted by a very handsome man from the Global Sports Club – a diving outfit with English-speaking guided. He didn’t really speak much English, so he was a bit quiet until I said something in Japanese. “Oh, is Japanese okay for you?” he asked me over the rattling of the van (it was used to ferry customers to and from their dives, so everything was covered in plastic, including the seatbelts, so I guess people just hang on to something…) I told him it was okay, I spoke a little.
I love you.
After arriving, we were greeted by the two cutest dogs ever, and the most laid-back and most contented Japanese people I’ve met in Japan. I imagine being a professional nature guide (scuba, mountain-climbing, and whatever else they did) in Japan is a much-envied and rare position to find oneself in. I immediately decided I was in the wrong line of work.
The dry-suit - always flattering!
Ishida (my guide) went over the finer points of diving: I’d be wearing a dry-suit (as opposed to a wetsuit), which has air pumped into and out of it. Would it be okay if he adjusted the valve on my chest. Sure, handsome! I’d have to take deep, even breaths, so no panicking. Okay… The water pressure would be pressing on my eardrums constantly, so I’d have to release the pressure to prevent my eardrums from getting damaged. What?!
Once I actually made it to the water, I couldn’t keep from laughing constantly – I was so excited about and so terrible at what I was trying to do. I was made to wear about 20 pounds of weights so I didn’t float to the surface, and Ishida swam above me, his arms wrapped around me to constantly adjust the valves on my suit. Awesome.
I wanted to touch everything, even the stuff I knew I shouldn’t, like the giant fugu swimming in front of me. Was that really a blowfish?! I reached out, and Ishida waved his hand to indicate, “NO!” I did the same thing with the sea urchins and eels. He did pick up a couple of sea cucumbers and toss them over to me like they were footballs. That was a little weird. A big, purple football with an anus on one end. And then there were these little sea plants/animals that lived on the rocks, with delicate, feather-like appendages that swept the water for food, presumably. We brushed them with out hands and they shot like reverse puffs of smoke into their little barnacle-shaped holes.
We both spotted the sea turtle at the same time, and he was so excited, I could hear his voice making excited sounds. Suddenly, we picked up speed and pursued it, until it finally outswam us. Ishida and I waved good-bye.
After the dive, everyone suggested I go to the local coffee shop, so Ishida dropped me off with an umbrella and bid me farewell. The coffee shop was a geodesic dome – certainly not the first thing I expected to see in a tiny island town, but whatever. I was stuffed to the gills with hand-carved, -forged, -printed, and -etc. crafts from the locals, and all of it was exceedingly cool. The best part was the gaggle of obaachan that were conversing excitedly over all the news of the day. One of them eagerly approached me and tried her best to speak excellent English, as I assured her it was. We chatted for a bit, while all of her companions watched and clucked their tongues in adoration. After a moment, my new friend conferred with the others, and it was decided that they must all buy me an omiage. I tried to pick the cheapest thing I could that I actually liked, and they made me pick out something else.
The welcome wagon
After this, I decided I should head on down to the indoor onsen, and it was here that the weather turned foul. Seriously. I was like being in a hurricane. It was all I could do to keep my umbrella from staying inside out, the rain poured down, the freezing wind blew (and I do mean freezing, as in snow), and the sky turned black. I hid out in the hot water for an hour or so before venturing out again, after the storm had passed. Dinner was fried fish, miso with fish, and fish salad. (Did I mention I had sashimi for lunch?)
The northern port of Oshima
In the morning, I woke up to a delightful breakfast of broiled fish, fish soup, and some non-fish food items – delicious! And so, it was off to the flower park and squirrel zoo. Oshima is known for its camellia flowers, and March is right at the end of the blooming season. The flower park was pretty spectacular, although the best feature was a grassy hill covered in violets with 180 degree view of the ocean and mainland Japan.
Camellia garden
The previous night’s storm had blown away all the haze, and Fuji-san was clearly visible from the island.
I eventually made my way down to the squirrel section, where creepy little forts have been constructed out of logs, and they are jammed packed full of psychotic, horny squirrels. It was a warm day, so most of the critters were laying in the sun being mounted by their more energetic counterparts.
Before the melee
I paid 100 yen for an oven mitt and a packet of sunflower seeds to feed them, but they didn’t seem all that excited at first. Eventually, the fat ones came out – you know the little bastards that probably shove the weaker ones out of the way so they can stuff their fat faces with a few more seeds, and the party started. The little log fort erupted with fur balls, and one of the fatter little shits jumped on me. After shaking it off I backed up, far enough so they couldn’t reach me from the fort. Then I realized they were watching me from the tall grass. It was like Children of the Corn – I could hear them skittering and chirping to each other. I eventually gave all my seeds to on squirrel and headed out of there.
Furry evil
I stopped by the rabbit pen for the last few minutes before my bus came, and I wished I had spent time with them instead. They were softer, gentler, slower-moving little creatures, and a hell of a lot cuter. Also, they couldn’t crawl up my pant leg.
