in Fukushima, smelly as a hobo

I reek off evaporated sweat (otherwise known as solid urea mixed with salty skin sludge) and my mind feels like food left in the microwave too long, but i am finally physically in the first city that marks the second, and much more mysteriously unexplored, part of my pilgrimage to Hokkaido. After disembarking from Shinkansen car number 1, i was greeted by a posterboard above the descending stairs of a squirrel chewing on a large acorn surrounded by many bouncing acorns, bearing the inscription "Land of Many Forests, Fukushima." Ah, was a refreshing sight after the hustle and bustle of five or six morning laps around Tokyo station for various ridiculous reasons. Tokyo station is much like a nightmare in which you are trying to escape from something unseen, but everywhere you turn are either more stairs leading out of sight, or endless hallways leading to places that are probably dead-ends. But now i know it like the back of my hand. I could probably get a fine job leading tours around it, if i wanted. To summarize, i arrived in Tokyo station this morning at 6 am via a night bus from Kyoto that left 10 pm the night before. As you can imagine, i slept like a king in my bus seat, and was fully revitalized to explore the inner channels of Tokyo station ad nauseam. I needed to purchase my East Japan railpass for my Tohoku journey up north, and figured it would be a cinch. After all, navigating around should be easy since it must be in the station, and once i found the right place i was sure that everything would run like clockwork. Naturally, it turned out that neither of these was true. Tokyo station is conveniently composed of two halves that must be half-miles from each other, and staff love to send you to the opposite side when they don't know what to do with you. Further, because of my compulsions with eating breakfast foods, i had to peruse numerous shops before i found one to my liking. And the cherry on top was finding someone who speaks English, since my first time trying to explain what i wanted turned out fruitless and frustrating -- the woman kept telling me i couldn't purchase said ticket without a copy of my return ticket to the US proving i was on a 90-day visit. But how could i have my return ticket if it is electronic and i am not going home yet? This made so little sense my brain almost boiled over on the spot, but i politely excused myself and decided on plan B, which was walk around more. After three or so visits to the same counter (the English-speaking workers i was informed were INSIDE the terminal, meaning that i needed to purchase a subway ticket to speak with them), i happened upon a nice young worker whose English ability surprised me, and i lunged upon him like a tiger on a fallen deer. He told me i needed at least a printed copy of my itinerary. Great, i said, where can i print a single page from the Internet? Hm, he replied, no idea. How could i be so ignorant to think that it would be this easy to print a single page in the center of the metropolitan empire of Tokyo? After asking the cops at the nearest koban (police box), i hiked over to a Kinko's (no less) 5 blocks or so away with all my luggage and printed out the damned page. End of story, i got back to the station, got the sacred pass, thought about taking money out and started to walk a bit and then decided that it would be better to just jump on the next train and say "fuck it," jumped on the next train, and said "fuck it" in my comfortable Shinkansen seat while watching the concrete wasteland of Tokyo speed by and behind me through the thick plastic window. And here i am!

Determination is not something to be snuffed. Now all i need to do is get to my hostel by some bus. But first i need to find its address. That's why i'm in this smoky internet cafe by Fukushima station. The guy beside me has Diablo running, his character standing in place beside what looks like a shop surrounded by other players milling about. Who knows what massive-multiplayer bore he is superbly wasting his time with? If he was playing the game, that's one thing. He leans back in his chair with a manga about basketball and smokes a cigarette. When i saw Diablo i got excited, kind of like if i saw a live dinosaur walking down the street, and asked him rhetorically if that was Diablo he was playing? He didn't move a muscle in my direction. Otaku weirdos. Better to leave them be.

Onward to have more traveling adventures. Hopefully i'll sleep in a bed tonight.