I Wouldn't Mind Being a Bird in Yufuin

Earthshine reader —

It's me (Dazé), and I'm amazed that this newsletter is in its tenth issue. On the other hand, I'm saddened that only 10 out of the 100+ walks I have in my (evergrowing) archive have seen the light of day.

I often wonder about a solution, and I keep drawing the same conclusions:

• Walk less? That might as well read "Stop breathing?" …
• Post more often? I have a full-time job and no midnight oil to burn …
• Quit my job and focus on this? I would, but I'd need your support …
• Hire an assistant? That would defeat the purpose of the project …
• Spend less time on each issue? And sacrifice quality over quantity? No …
• Post less demanding posts? Most of my walks are on the longer side …
• Avoid nagging about it and focus on writing? … Oops.

See? It's quite the rompecabezas as the Spanish would say. Have a suggestion for me? By all means, save my soul. Meanwhile, I'll continue to romper my cabeza.

Now, join me back in time as I revisit a place that immediately made it onto my list of potential retirement homes.

It was May 25, 2022. My wife and I were on a road trip through Kyushu, the southern region of Japan. After Nagasaki, our next stop was a small town nestled in the countryside of the Ōita Prefecture. Its name? Yufuin.

As is the case of most places, I wouldn't have found it if it weren't for my travel junkie wife. She had been there once as a student. At the time, we were in a quasi-long distance relationship and I wore a cap which displayed the kanji for "dream" (夢). She noticed it in the inn's name and it struck her as a sign to take me there someday if things worked out between us. 54 months later, it happened.

The hotel and its amenities encompassed a ryokan experience of the utmost quality. But there's one thing all these fancy inns have in common, something I doubt I'll ever get used to. Look, no matter how qualified your chef is and how fresh your food is, I'm not one to enjoy raw fish as the first meal of my day. And no, I'm not being closed-minded. I tried it in exchange for belly trauma.

Of course, the ryokan was only half the experience. On the first day, we walked through the town, and I was utterly captivated. It was during golden hour, which only made the experience more dream-like. Unfortunately, I had left my camera at the hotel, but I scheduled another walk in the morning after check-out. The following photos are the results of that second chance.

As much as I loved living in Tokyo and exploring the urban landscape of Japan in general, if given the choice, I'd want to live surrounded by mountains and rice paddies. Life moves slower in these places. The people are more connected, not just to one another, but to the soil, the wind, and the sky. You learn to live with fewer cogs, reducing worries and boosting gratitude.

And hey, whenever you find yourself missing the neon lights, overrated coffee shops, owl cafés, and Pokémon Centers, this country boasts the best rail infrastructure in the world.

Perhaps Yufuin stands out because I didn't see much of the countryside. Then again, every newcomer enters through a big city and is immediately enticed to stay there. Moreover, somehow you're obliged to tick off some "must-sees" as if visiting Japan for any other reason qualifies you as a sicko. I too was there, but I'd like to believe I've since graduated. Next time, I'll prioritise places like Yufuin.

This is the kind of thing you only find in remote places. What is it? An art project? A utility? Who knows. In the city, you would visit stores (plural) and browse the web. Here, the Internet is slow and the only store (singular) is a konbini. As a result, one must get creative. (After finding this on a Google Street View from October 2010, I can report this used to be a more complete piece with a large glass dome at the top. Ironically, its intended purpose remains a mystery.)

There's a saying about mindfulness that suggests one "smell the roses" (to enjoy or appreciate what is often ignored). Of course, you don't need to live in the countryside to do that. But because distractions — lights, noise, smell — are minimised here, you have more occasion to … sniff. These flowers look large and prominent, but in reality, are tiny and half-hidden. If I had been in the city, I likely wouldn't have noticed them. Instead, my attention might have been pulled away by a loud and flashy billboard advertising the latest smartphone, reminding me I don't have the latest one and generating a fear of missing out. This, over and over, day after day, takes a toll on your mental health. I for one have felt it.

Something I'd enjoy less about living in the countryside would be the insects, particularly mosquitoes. I've had an awful experience with them, especially in France, causing me countless restless nights. I thought it would be worse in Japan, but the opposite was true. (At least, this was the case while living in Setagaya.) This is due to Japan's standard of installing mosquito nets in every window, although my extra precaution also contributed.

Yufuin has a (humble) main street lined with cute souvenir stores and food stalls offering local tastes. One of the establishments sold sesame products, and it had a window seemingly intended for a little PR stunt: an employee grinding sesame seeds. The process involved a pattern of three piston-like presses, followed by a full stop, and repeated. Stunt or not, it worked on me.

As I made my way through the main street, I came across a sign leading into an alley that read "Yufuin Floral Village". Curious, I decided to enter, only to discover a cute square that was essentially a free zoo experience (!!!). One of the enclosures contained squirrels and offered an honesty system where you take a small bag of sunflower seeds in exchange for ¥100. I took the offer and, after a few failed attempts, managed to lure this fellow close enough for a portrait.

Another friendly resident of Yufuin Floral Village. Is it just me or does it look like he's about to open his beak and speak the Queen's English?

This is Mount Yufu, towering over Yufuin at an altitude of 1,583 metres (5,195 feet). I didn't have time to hike it, but I'll keep it in mind for my next visit.

At the foot of Yufu-san is a body of water known as Kinrin Lake. I regret not taking an establishing shot of it. Then again, I had chosen a telephoto zoom. Anyway, I saw this cormorant roosting on a torii gate on the opposite side of the lake and envisioned this frame. Luckily, by the time I made it there, he was still there.

This fish isn't dying nor is it in any trouble — it's problem-solving. The water had a shallow area and a deeper one, forming a sort of underwater ridge. For a fish of this size, swimming sideways is the only way to get from one side to the other. What's more, the fellow did it multiple times, for self-amusement. Fascinating.

Having walked as far as the path allowed, it was time to head back. But this time, I decided to follow the river for a change of scenery.

I passed through a Buddhist temple called Bussanji and captured this chōzubachi ("water bowl"), which is used to rinse your hands. I can almost hear the water …

My next find was this oddity: a random clock fixed to a rough house-shaped shelf perched on a rustic bus stop. I adore things like this. They possess a rare charm that results from a mixture of resourcefulness, survival, and creativity. I'd love to meet the person who built it and discover what their home looks like.

I knew the river would pay off!

The river led me past a rice paddy. The first time I saw rice paddies was in 2019 on a holiday in Bali. To an Icelander, rice paddies are an exotic sight and, thus, demand contemplation. Looking closely, you can make out bubbles popping on the surface. I wonder who's making them — a water bug?

If I'm correct, this heron is called an egret. Like the previous, I spotted it in the river. As I got too close, it flew further downstream. This went on for a bit until it gave up on me and took off into the sky. I wouldn't mind being a bird in Yufuin.

I was nearing the end of my walk when I heard a growl that disturbed the peace in the air. It was the local postman. Coincidentally, I captured him passing by the mystery object I wrote about earlier.

Eventually, I reunited with my wife and we returned to the hotel to recover our luggage, which the reception had so kindly offered to guard while we were out. After that, we loaded the rental car and headed to our next destination, Kurokawa Onsen, which I sadly didn't photograph.

When I tell people about my time in Japan, a common question they ask is: What place did you like the most? I'm bad with favourites, but Yufuin is among the first names that echo in my head. One day I shall return … and bring my own breakfast.

Until next time,
D