In Transit

Stuffed/crammed into the middle seat, between two aisles, and the seats in front and behind, I sit partially reclined with my feet in a small cubby, in the dark, with the bus stopping and starting, or turning, and people waking up to use the washroom -- Janice one of them, crawling over top of me, before arriving in the sunlight of Osaka at 7:30 in the morning, where we enter a massive train/subway station with standing room only, for men and women in suits going to work, eyes forward, hips swaying, nobody talking -- one train after the other unloading and loading, wave after wave of people flooding spaces between pillars, up escalators, through turnstiles; we wait in line and the doors open and we walk in, and then we are pushed further in, and then more people wedge themselves in; the next train the same: i hesitate to step on and the man pushes me in the back -- when i turn around there is nobody behind him -- he's pushed me on onto the train on his own accord and now his back is toward me, silent and unapologetic.
    We step out of the station and it's hot and it's humid, and we have no concept of direction, and we get directions from a bald man in glasses who is eager to help and to practice his English, but we're in a hurry and when we get our information, we run.
    "Thank you," we say with a wave and then we're off to find our boat.
    The international ferry terminal is air conditioned and not many people are there yet. "Wait a minute, please," says the man at the counter.
    We sit down in a row of seats near the tall windows, looking out at the gangway and the massive boat, and cargo containers stacked everywhere, and everyone around us, over the age of 8, is quiet and sitting still. People under the age of 8 are running, climbing, laughing, and adventuring. I try to be all smiles, but nobody responds.
    I make eye contact with a a French-Canadian guy, but both of us seem unsure. Maybe next time, i think to myself.
    I ask Janice what language the couple beside us are speaking and she says, "Czech." They're old-school with aluminum poles sticking out of their packs and socks pulled up to their knees. Across the way, a girl walks to her seat in tight spandex shorts -- they don't leave much to the imagination. I tell Janice, but she already knows, and i'm impressed.
    Customs is easy, boarding is easy -- wait, except for the man yelling in Japanese at the counter -- something about not having a boarding pass. He eventually gets it and seems happy. Talkative even.
    We find that our room sleeps 4, but we are only two. Soon, a French couple joins us in our room and they've been cycling Japan (Tokyo to Miyajima) for the past two months and are on their way back to France, via the surface. We make friends easily and the guy leaves his wallet in the open, on the top bunk while he takes a shower.
    On the deck, the air is still humid, but the breeze is nice. The water is beautiful and Japan's shorelines are endless and serene. I wait for the openness of the ocean, but i don't want Japan to disappear just yet. We cross under bridges and i hold back on taking too many photos -- in order to save space on the memory card.
    The cafeteria food is great -- the first thing I eat is boiled duck, and the beers are huge and they only cost $1.50.
    Eventually the sun goes down and everybody heads to the deck to see the show. The air has cooled a bit, and the sun is orange and spectacular as it sinks behind the mountains.
    The moon is equally magnificent on the other side of the boat (portside) as it reflects, sparkling, off of the water, and lighting the deck. A very drunk Japanese man joins us and he tells us about his import/export business and that he "loves Japan."
    I tell him I do too.
    Soon, he leaves us, and Janice and I share a kiss in the moonlight, and a stranger stumbles upon us only to run away when he sees us.
    Eventually we're back in our own bunks to talk with the French about China.