This will be my second time putting the bike into the Rinko bag to bring on the train. After getting everything ready, which took awhile, and carrying it to the station entrance, I realized my arrangement needed tweaking, but too late now.
Lugging the bike and next, the luggage, up to the platform, I realized something didn’t look right. There was no one else on the platform except for a woman who I realized later possibly spends her whole day on the platform watching people and trains coming and going. Everyone else waiting for trains were on the opposite platform across the tracks. Looking at the arrival screen, I noticed I had mistaken “Matsuyama” for “Okayama”, likely a result of not enough breakfast from the konbini.
Down again to the station, twice, then up again twice, to the other platform, sweating by now. We’re all waiting. Then a notice comes over the loudspeaker which I don’t understand, of course, and there’s a bit of flurry on the platform. A train comes in, and I start to board it after most of the passengers disembark, but no one else does gets on.
A man and young woman, who look like they might be Americans, were still coming off. They said the train wasn’t going any further because of an accident. Someone got hit by a train.
No one quite seemed to know what to do at this point, but I thought it might be better to get my bicycle and luggage to the middle level of the station, in case they decided to put us all on a train on the other platform. Eventually it all worked out of course, except for the poor soul hit by the train.
All of this resulted in me getting to my final destination at nightfall, but even in the dark, peddling through the bustling city, Matsuyama seemed like a very nice place. The hostel I was heading for was by the Dogo Onsen, one of the oldest hot springs used for bathing in Japan. Some internet commentators suggest it was the inspiration for the bathouse in Spirited Away, Hayao Miyazaki’s 2001 masterpiece.
The current structure dates from the late 1800’s, but was under renovation, so its full splendour was mostly under wraps. The interior was beautiful though, with the smell of an old wooden building, cedar I imagine, and the bathing itself was, well, a historical immersion.
Dogo memory
Stairs polished by countless feet
Wood as smooth as skin
