How Many Modes of Travel Can Wayne and I Pack Into One Day in Japan?
Many ways of getting to an old friend now living here
Can you beat the Japanese for transport variety, ingenuity and commitment?
The weather gods have been with us so far. Makes venturing forth easy. I know. I’m out of sync again, backtracking to Yokohama…
Breakfast was planning time. We get together over the hotel buffet in the hotel at 7 to flange up our day structure then. For once, I had something to add to intentions. I had someone to meet!
Wayne has been such a fantastic tour guide. He booked hotels, shaped the arc of the trip, and has given me the advantage of his previous visits and extensive research. It’s been invaluable. I would not have had this rich exposure without his dedicated advance work and on-the-ground savvy.
Our overriding plan:
Take the seaside Yokohama Harbour boat - already spoken of in previous blogs
get to Kamakura
Meet my old buddy
Go down the coast further away from base
Catch the monorail
Loop back from Ofuna
Kamakura is just 30 minutes from Yokohama by local train. We turned right out of the small station and looked toward the clock tower. And there was Carl Samuels.
Carl is known to some of you as a very early TEC [now Vistage] chair. I think he was #20 - so has pedigree. He also spoke to my TEC 201 group around 1989. He characterized consultants/ mentors as mountain guides. It stuck with me and still has legs; it will be used in a video series called “The Coach’s Backpack”. This is a suite of enduring concepts I was privileged to learn through teachings of TEC speakers. I’m including only those that have real gravity; timeless value. They can be deployed by coaches when their candidates get into territory where that concept can give a leg up.
Carl has been offshore for over 20 years. His last foray - Next Step - was a peer advisory group experience for graduating entrepreneurs. Maybe its time has come ‘round again as interest in Rick Eigenbrod’s superb book “What Happens When You Get What You Want” targeted to cashing out entrepreneurs is growing. Check it out on Amazon…
Over lunch in a tiny back corner of an organic cafe a block up from the square, I caught up on Carl’s later life overseas. He’d spent 20 years in Chiang Mai, Thailand, living an idyllic life. His wife is Japanese. She determined she should return here for this installment of her time. She and Carl first set up in in Tokyo but they now live in an apartment under a mountain close up to Kamakura. He works hard at his Japanese and is making slow headway.
Carl is devoted to Zen Buddhism. He “sits” for an hour or so per day. That practice was the topic as we walked up out of the core on a two lane tree lined road. We rolled past several institutions, tasteful concrete structures in elegant settings. Through two tunnels then turned left into a pleasant residential area of two story houses, each with its tidy small car tucked in the smallest possible driveway. The yards are mini parks; nothing is left unimproved. Carefully shaped plants, dry stone assemblies, stone lanterns, tinkling fountains
You’d never know from our approach that this town is solidly on the tourist track. The main draw is the Great Buddha - a cast bronze sitting sculpture 80’ high. We turned a last quiet corner and there it was, grandly and serenely gazing outward.
This is another of those attractions everyone must see. Our progress up the back way left us unprepared for the onslaught of people coming up the other way, zeroing in on the temple enclosure.
The Buddha is magnificent. He radiates the peace and equanimity that the faith of his followers attempts to replicate in their lives. Certainly has worked for Carl!
Contesting that mood were the admirers:
A woman in a violent lime green dress; melding vogueing and reverence in a pose.
Intent small men scurrying, head down toward smart phones
Weary backpack bearing non-Asians, peering up
Wads of chattering jangling Chinese gabbling together off on the side
A line of well turned out folks lining to pay extra to walk up inside the shell of the sculpture
Orderly rows of dark-blazered school kids, momentos hanging off shoulder bags, being shepherded along by patient teachers
Wayne and I are faithful - momento gatherers. When we’d garnered our stamps and graphic good wishes on “passports” [goshuincho], Carl conducted us out into the swamping bazaar that is the more travelled route. The crowd was on their way to another well-known temple nearby but Carl was guiding us to the ocean. After brazening through the gauntlet of fast food, souvenir and gift shops, we popped out below onto another extraordinary scene.
Who knew there were surfing beaches in Japan? Quite a few adherents, it would seem. A generous arc of gently sloping floury sand led to a distant headland punctuated by hi rise apartment buildings. Beyond that? Yokohama. Offshore were hundreds of blacksuited bobbing torsos waiting for a worthy wave. The grey sky and gentle wind weren’t making for much but that wasn’t deterring anyone.
.We made our fond farewells and joined a horde hoping to go further up the coast toward Fuji. And along came the Toonerville Trolley to take us all there. Or a reasonable facsimile thereof.
The Enoden line consists of two car enlarged coastal trams on a single track. It claims its own fan club. Hundreds videoed the funky unit going back to Kamakura and hundreds more - it seemed - jammed onto the cars heading the other away. We were among them, holding on to the loops to steady against the rocking as it pulled out.
The right of way is squeezed between buildings, guided along roadways for short intervals and on the edge of the sea the next. All down the way were charming little surf towns until reaching Enoden.
There the tram disgorged most passengers and, in less of a jam, we exited to climb 5 floors to the monorail terminal. Leave it to the Japanese to try any mode of transport that has promise to meet a particular challenge. This stretch was the spine of a mountain, up and down. It had to be navigated on a very small footprint. The silver cars we boarded hung from a single suspending rail
.This dangling cab could climb and descend more aggressively than a train. The swaying cars curved left and right as we passed extremely close to the highest floors of ridge clinging office buildings. At the last moment just before Ofuna, we caught a glimpse of another imposing tall white stone statue, not Buddha this time but a feminine manifestation called Kannon. This one was nestled next to the apex of a hill across from the terminus.
For the last, more conventional leg of the loop that day, we boarded the return train to Yokohama. And got lost coming out of the station again.
We’d failed the exam, got all the answers and failed again!
How we could get so turned around I don’t know. But we did get ground side, got oriented and returned for our final night at the Spaisir.