A Weekend with Goats
Two weekends ago, the first weekend after Golden Week where everybody was back from vacation and all in the same place again, Natanya invited everyone she knew to her house for a party. This was a veiled excuse to play “Celebrities”, our favourite game combining charades, gestures, and taboo. It also generally involves ridiculous people such as Boutros Boutros-Ghali, Gandhi, Miss Piggy, Tyra Banks, Ahmadinejad, various New York Times columnists (naturally I don’t remember their names, out of apathy) and of course, Zac Efron.
However, most of the invited were unable to acquiesce this kind invitation, and so the group became four people; Natanya, Kate, Ian, Rachel and the Other Rachel (hereby referred to as R2).
The weekend began at an empty train station in Amanohashidate (the station that seems to evade nicknamery) as Natanya and I shared stories of our sunburns and ate chocolate from Hokkaido. Ian and R2 arrived promptly 3 minutes late, and we drove to Sutenten, an izakaya [food-place] in Iwataki. This was the first of many meals where I proceeded to watch other people drink, as I was the driver. We then retired to Ine for an evening of beer and Pringles, all while sitting on the kitchen floor. Ian was reunited with Kirby the Ferret and all was calm.
I recommended the adjoining steakhouse, where we went for a late lunch. The corn was spectacular.
Terribly, terribly lost.
Driving down the mountain, I expected to reach Yasaka, but instead we ended up too close to the Sea of Japan and had to backtrack and head North, and THEN go to Mineyama. In a nutshell, there was no way we were going to reach Kaya. I convinced the group that we should all go to dinner together, which is what we did.
I had never been to the Bay Cook restaurant that overlooks the Kumihama Bay (and all of the large fish within). We had to sit separately due to lack of reservations, but everybody had a good time eating the pizzas and pasta dishes and watching the sky grow darker.
Everyone spent the night at Natanya’s. It wasn’t the most energetic or interesting night of anyone’s life, I don’t think, but it was certainly nice to spend time together in a non-wintry environment. I went to bed early, when Ian started reading aloud passages by David Foster Wallace, another name I’ve come to know, and hate.
However, most of the invited were unable to acquiesce this kind invitation, and so the group became four people; Natanya, Kate, Ian, Rachel and the Other Rachel (hereby referred to as R2).
The weekend began at an empty train station in Amanohashidate (the station that seems to evade nicknamery) as Natanya and I shared stories of our sunburns and ate chocolate from Hokkaido. Ian and R2 arrived promptly 3 minutes late, and we drove to Sutenten, an izakaya [food-place] in Iwataki. This was the first of many meals where I proceeded to watch other people drink, as I was the driver. We then retired to Ine for an evening of beer and Pringles, all while sitting on the kitchen floor. Ian was reunited with Kirby the Ferret and all was calm. Home-made mudslides... smell like vodka
The next day, after a leisurely French toast breakfast, we drove onto Otoko-yama, the nearby mountain that separates Ine and Yasaka. The drive was nice, though the sky threatened rain throughout the day. Near the top of the mountain (where the wind turbines live), there is a farm called Ikari Highlands Ranch (碇高原牧場) and we stopped there to watch sheep, goats, cows and rabbits frolic on the strangely rolling hills. I bumped into the Head of the Board of Education and met his lovely wife and adorable toddler grandchildren.Two girls a'mooing and an Ian in a Pear Tree.
I recommended the adjoining steakhouse, where we went for a late lunch. The corn was spectacular.
Goats play upon a bench.
It was time to leave and drive to Mineyama to meet Kate, who had invited me to dinner. I was going to drop Natanya, Ian and R2 off at Natanya’s house in Kaya and then drive back to Mineyama to do dinner further north in Kumihama with two of Kate’s co-workers. However, my cunning sense of map-reading and direction failed us all and we ended up on the narrowest jungle roads in some town I’d never heard of.Terribly, terribly lost. I had never been to the Bay Cook restaurant that overlooks the Kumihama Bay (and all of the large fish within). We had to sit separately due to lack of reservations, but everybody had a good time eating the pizzas and pasta dishes and watching the sky grow darker.
Everyone spent the night at Natanya’s. It wasn’t the most energetic or interesting night of anyone’s life, I don’t think, but it was certainly nice to spend time together in a non-wintry environment. I went to bed early, when Ian started reading aloud passages by David Foster Wallace, another name I’ve come to know, and hate.
No comments:
Post a Comment