The next morning at Abashiri, I boarded a train for Kushiro.
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My conveyance. |
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My way to the track. |
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Fellow travelers. |
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Rolling out of Abashiri. |
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The ocean, not on my side of the train. |
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This is a little guy and I assume, his father. The little guy got on the train by himself. He was very excited. |
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A couple of stations later, these folks turned out to meet him. I assume his mother and sister. The little girl was very excited. She jumped up and down. |
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This was a local train; there were lots of stops along the way. |
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New arrivals. |
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The cockpit at the other end of the train. There is one at each end. |
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The stations can get pretty silly. |
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Long grass. |
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An advertisement for this train... |
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the " Kushiro Shitsugen Norokko." The beige building in the background is my hotel. |
I wish that I had known about this train beforehand, I would have taken the ride. There were people running from my train to jump on this one. They were in the know. By the time I had researched what all the excitement was about, the last one for the day had split. This area of Hokkaido is famous for its wetlands. I had seen a lot of wetlands from my train. They were beautiful. You don't see them because the shots through the window weren't worth it. This train has open windows and only a wooden bench seats. Have a look:
http://en.visit-hokkaido.jp/travelPlanner/details.php?code=6203014000139
Walk-around...
This was a Sunday afternoon. Kushiro is not a small town, it is a city. It is a city that is not happening on Sunday. Most of the businesses on my walk were closed down. It was like being in Bavaria on a Sunday. There was also the threat of rain during my walk. That was not clear when I started it, so I hadn't unpacked my umbrella. Fortunately the rain held off until I got back to the hotel. I had been checking out the buses and figured I knew which ones to catch to get back to the station in case it did start raining. They wouldn't have helped much once I left that boulevard, though. I always end up leaving the boulevard.
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I still find buildings like this one with the point, strange in this country. Here it is, set up right next to the train station. It strikes me as having a little bit of Disneyland right across the street. |
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My hotel. |
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Sunday traffic. |
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The mouth of the river. |
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This is for you, Dr. Burkhart. I didn't go in because at first I thought it was some kind of church service. I think, however it was just a concert. Maybe some kind of trumpet club? Every soloist I saw played either trumpet or flugelhorn. Go figure. |
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I don't know what they catch here, but they must do a lot of it at night. All of the boats were outfitted with these lights. |
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Anchors. |
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Protecting the seaways. |
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I wanted to walk out to the end of this, but the guys in the Coast Guard cutter were watching and I didn't want to create any problems. |
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The facilities. |
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River commerce. |
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Sunday traffic. |
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Bowling. |
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View of the station from the hotel room. |
Dinner...
It was a pretty long walk that I took, yet I found no place open for dinner. On that level, this town was really different than anywhere I've been. Everywhere else the problem is choosing which restaurant, not finding a restaurant. I returned to the hotel, changed into warmer, rain-friendly clothes and went back out. I had noticed one place on the side street next to the hotel that looked like it might be are restaurant and might be open.
I stood outside of it for a bit because I really couldn't tell what it was. A lone guy walks up, looks at me; I say "Konbanwa." He replies likewise. I see that he is about to go in. I say, "Tabemono, de su ka?" He says, "Hi. Soba." I say, "Is it good?" That was too much English for him, so he opens the door and gestures me in...
Now I am in a seaport town, so what I want is seafood, but really, nothing was open. Nothing. Okay, Burger King was open. I had to go with the soba. She had a shrimp; that qualified. I was happy.
Thank you, Roper. Nice trumpet pix. I'm behind on reading, but catching up. Your travels are most excellent.
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