Sapporo Part One: The Outset of the Journey

It should be clear at this point that somehow, I have become very lazy this week when it comes to blogging. I blame it on my allergies, my busy schedule, general lethargy, political strife at home and abroad and the onset of a sudden bout of depression caused by the shocking realization that I am not the only blogger on this planet, after all. But alas, I digress. Somehow I doubt you all come here for my witty commentary and banter.

Thus, we begin our journey into the belly of the beast, embarking upon part one of an exciting three part series chronicling Matt's and my trip to Japan's northern most island of Hokkaido and it's capital city of Sapporo. Perhaps we are young and naive or perhaps we were simply propelled by a desire for "kicks" worthy of a Kerouac novel. Regardless of our true intentions, the two of us somehow decided that it would be fun to eschew the normal train route and take an overnight ferry from Hachinohe to somewhere in Hokkaido from where we would hopefully make our way to Sapporo by whatever means we happened to find at our disposal (I suppose it's worth mentioning, since I saw fit to bring up Kerouac, that hitchhiking is actually still practiced in Japan, although we were not forced to resort to such desperate measures this time around). Now the only problem with the ferry is that there appeared to be no information on it whatsoever in English. From the little we could understand of the Japanese-only website that Matt found, it seemed like there might be a boat leaving Hachinohe at 10:30 pm, although we had no idea where it was leaving from or how to purchase tickets. Armed with only this knowledge, I found myself standing in Hachinohe station on Thursday night, wondering how best to proceed.

Luckily, the train station houses a visitor's center which is run by an extremely knowledgeable and almost shockingly helpful staff. When I inquired about the ferry, I was provided not only with a schedule but also a map detailing how to get to the dock as well as a detailed itinerary (she wrote it in English even though I spoke with her in Japanese) that told me exactly which trains and buses to take in order to arrive at the ferry on time for the 10:30 departure. By the time Matt arrived at the station, all that was left to do was nourish our bodies for the journey ahead.

Somehow, we ended up at a steak place, where I was more than pleased to find Akagi Weizen, the most palatable (and date I say, even enjoyable) beer that I've had here so far. Could be it was just the shock of drinking something that didn't come out of a can but as I recall, it actually tasted like a weizen. Remarkable.

When they eventually brought our steaks out on sizzling platters, the waiter draped a single napkin over each skillet before presenting them to us. Matt surmised that this was to prevent us from being burned by a stray particle of oil, although I still found it quite strange.

Luckily, the steak underneath the napkin turned out to be quite acceptable, if a little expensive.

About an hour's walk from the train station in the center of the city, we finally arrived at the ferry depot. The ferry itself was an enormous beast, perhaps capable of transporting a hat-wearing whale like that which is seen emblazoned on the side of the vessel.

It appeared as if we had stumbled upon some sort of grand secret because we were clearly the only foreigners on the entire boat. While there were private rooms available at a higher cost, we opted for the second class accommodations, which set us back roughly $40 USD a piece. Compare this to the $125 cost of taking the train and you'll see why the ferry is such a closely guarded secret. So what does second class look like on a Japanese ferry?

Well, it basically entails a bunch of people cramming into a room and staking out space to sleep on the floor (economy class, in case you're wondering, is simply more crowded, full of teenagers and slightly cheaper). While the nine hour ride took place during prime sleeping hours, Matt and I only slept for about 2 of those hours, spending the lion's share of our time wandering about and being entertained by the various groups of middle-aged men who decided to stay up all night drinking. One particularly lively group of postal workers who we encountered on the deck at about 3:00 am readily admitted that they were headed to Susukino, Sapporo's famed red-light district, to enjoy the nominally illegal yet widely available prostitutes. One fellow, who kept urging us to come along, entertained us by repeatedly shouting "FUCKU OKAY!" in his attempt to convince us that despite our reservations, it really is okay to engage in such activities.

When we first arrived on the ferry, the two of us had a short conversation with a youngish guy who knew a bit of English. This chance meeting (as you will later see) turned out to be wholly invaluable. When he asked us how we intended to get to Sapporo and we replied that we had no idea, he invited us to join him on a bus that would cost only $10 USD and would get us into downtown Sapporo in just two hours. And that it did...