Fresh!

Saturday, April 12
In the afternoon, Clay arrived at my place with Yuri, a friend from Lewis and Clark. We had lunch at a Showa Era-themed okonomiyaki place, where I ate an Italian version topped with tomatoes and cheese. We closed the meal with self-serve ソフトクリーム, all of us greedily squeezing wobbly towers of cold vanilla into thin, crunchy cones.

From there we decided to take Yuri, a visitor to Hyogo, to the coast, for a view of the famous bridge that Chris and I had only seen the previous weekend. Clay and Yuri explored the observatory, and Chris and I learned about the science behind bridge construction at the 橋の科学館.

In the evening, we drove to the outlets at nearby Tarumi, where the boys bought kicks, the girls bought clothes, and everyone stuffed themselves on delicious pizza. I ordered a four cheese version and gave myself a migraine!

Clay ordered the American-style okonomiyaki, complete with hamburger.

I built this bridge at the science center.

A big donut.

Lone tulip.

Sunday, April 13
We slept in and met Clay and Sarah in Kasai in the afternoon. We stocked up on lunch at the local Grimm Bakery, where I recommend the tandoori chicken sandwich, a soft French roll stuffed with tender strips of meat with sweet curry-mayo spread and crisp veggies. The garlic bread, while soft and tasty, will leave you tasting the stuff for hours. (That said, I could eat several loaves right now.)

Our group drove north for the day, where we finally collected the Fresh Asago 道の駅 stamp. This station has evaded us several times—the latest involving our becoming stuck on a snow-covered incline, with Clay and I shoveling a path with our hands and feet. Spring thus seemed the better time to visit, and I celebrated our grand accomplishment with a fat ichigo daifuku.

Fresh Asago! ゲットした！

Drinking complementary tea and taking in the scenery.

This station boasted a free archaeology museum with interactive exhibits!

That would be the Wada Tunnel.

We spent the remainder of the afternoon collecting a few more stamps. R427 Kami, a station that had been closed on a previously attempted visit, was open, along with a small, unremarkable paper-making museum. As happens far too often with us, we were offered lengthy lectures from a garrulous museum volunteer, who chatted with us for longer than it took to see the entirety of the two-room museum. Across the street from the station was a wooded shrine featuring an elderly pair of husband-wife cedars.

As we returned south to Kasai, we stopped at a wood cabin restaurant with the words “FREEK’S CAFÉ” scrawled across the front. A young woman, her young son playing on the floor, greeted us at the entrance, where a collection of electric guitars occupied a small corner. A Wii sat atop a television playing cartoons. We seated ourselves on a pair of red leather couches and ordered snacks. I had an iced café au lait with the “Sweet of the Day,” cheesecake and creamy vanilla ice cream with a blueberry topping. We never learned who the “freek” was (not to mention the reason for the alternative spelling), but the bathroom showcased posters from an obscure Japanese band called Doberman, whose members included a man standing behind the café bar—presumably the husband of our server.

We returned to Kasai and met up with Mr. and Mrs. Munoz, just returned from an anniversary trip to Tokyo. We had a ramen dinner at 希望軒, where everyone ate noodles. Still full of freek food, however, I only ate a plate of gyoza and fried rice. The gyoza appeared framed by a thin and crispy crust which tasted exactly how gyoza chips might taste if such a thing as gyoza chips existed.

We talked story at Clay’s place for awhile, about jobs and the future, before driving home to Miki through the fog and the rain.