by Lucy Dickens
The boat ride is short and sweet, just enough time to slap on some more sun lotion and let the ocean breeze whip my hair into a candy floss of tangles, but I don’t give two hoots about that. I close my eyes and let the salty spray hit my face, ready to dive back in the minute I’m given the okay to do so.
When the boat pulls to a stop, bobbing on the surface, we’re expected to slide out of the back. Yuya holds onto my arm to help me down, my breathing shallower, not just from the cooler sea this little bit further away from the coast, but because of exactly that: that we’re that little bit further away from the coast. I can’t touch the bottom here even if I wanted to – I’m in open water.
Before I let my thoughts get the better of me I dip my face under the surface, and this time the hidden world is bathed in a shining sapphire blue. A school of yellowy-black fish take a group tour over the coral, several metres below me. A parrot fish swims by and gives me a high five.
Okay, maybe it doesn’t give me a high five, but it feels like it, and anemones wave about as if they’re doing the hula.
I’m counting the number of different coloured fish I can see when I sense something bigger and darker creeping along into my eyeline, like seeing a plane on a summer’s day, but from below. And there she is, Ms Manta Ray, drifting along like a boss, huge and shadowy, with rippling fins and a long spear for a tail. She’s stunning. In fact, I have no idea if she’s a she or not, but I want to move like her in the world.
I stay completely still and watch her disappear into the blue as quickly, or should I say slowly, as she appeared.
I surface and tread water for a moment, letting it all sink in. Pulling my mask up onto my head and spitting out my snorkel, I bring the waterproof casing up so my phone is level with my face.
‘I don’t know if the audio will get through this case, or whether you would have seen any of that, but we just met a manta ray. I can’t … I can’t believe I nearly didn’t do this.’ I look off to the side, back towards Ishigaki, and it’s all a little overwhelming. So I turn back and smile to the camera. ‘I’m very lucky.’
Later on, back at my guesthouse when editing my videos together, I see that not only did the camera catch the manta ray, but because of how it dangled in the water, my phone saw her before I did. You can see my shaky finger point in her direction at the exact point I notice her looming behind me. I hadn’t realised what a big smile she had!
Also, the audio didn’t pick up, but what did was the big mask ring around my face, and the trail of snot hanging from my nose.
I take a little drive on my last morning in Ishigaki en route to dropping my car off at the airport. I’ve been meaning to come to Tamatorizaki Observation Point since arriving on the island, but alas I was too busy burying myself in the sand and scurrying in and out of the sea on the beach by the guesthouse with the borrowed snorkel and mask.
And then this morning, I did a whoopsie again. I was packing up my things when I couldn’t stop my fingers doing the devil’s work, and just like that I was back on Katie’s Instagram page, scouring her latest pictures for clues of just how together she was with my man. Was he with her in any pictures since the pub one? No, just a couple of quite pretty photos of herself in a flower meadow. Had Matt liked them? One of them, yes. Had he posted anything of the same meadow, a sure sign that it would have been him taking the portraits? No. Still nothing new on his feed.
I was this close to going down a rabbit hole, my happiness drifting towards the open window on the breeze, when I managed to shut down the app and stand back, pulling my happiness back inside and shaking off the anxiety. And that’s when I made the decision to leave for the airport early and come here.
I pull up at the small car park below my destination and put on my sunglasses. The air is sticky-warm today, a little nudge and wink towards the summer weather that will follow soon.
I follow the curve of the path as it winds around the cliffs, past the palms and the ferns that spread out from their places and tickle my ankles, until the view on my right opens out and I can see the sea in all her shiny glory again.
The closer I get on the short walk to the Observation Point, the more pristine the pathway gets, with greenery trimmed back, a short wooden fence alongside a manicured hillside. And when I reach the stone-walled gazebo at the summit, the island opens out in a panorama in front of me. I have lush mountains and hills behind me, a peninsula stretching away surrounded by slivers of sand and white frothing waves, flat green fields with orange rooftops dotted among them, the ocean – the wide, sparkling ocean – showing off its marbled turquoises of the coral reefs and more muted blues of the deeper seas further out.
I take a big lungful of warm, tropical air, pleased as punch to have made it down here. When Kaori first talked about the island, I never expected to have found more than simply a place to relax for a few days. What I found was a renewed sense of adventure, more wonderful people and, I think, a step towards finding some ikigai?
Today, I’d be heading back to the mainland, to cities and trains and many more experiences I’m sure I can’t even imagine yet. Will I find anything I love as much as snorkelling?
I take a last, long, drink of the island. Come on, Charlotte, let’s go and find out.
Chapter 11
There’s nothing like a
Little bit of perspective
To live a little
My mini summer holiday within a holiday has been amazing, exactly what I needed. After the rollercoaster of emotions whizzing around me, from feeling free and alive in Tokyo to crashing down to loneliness in Kyoto like a dip after a sugar high, I am happy to say that I’m now feeling a little more reset.
My train chuffs its way along the Japanese countryside from Osaka airport to the city of Hiroshima. Had I remained on the Honeymoon Highlights tour I would have done this destination by now and would already be heading north. I wonder what Flo and Lucas, Cliff and Jack, and Kaori are doing right now …
I spent the flight back from Ishigaki editing together some of my extra footage from the island, and when I uploaded it to Instagram using the airport Wi-Fi as I waited for my train, I spotted something that made me feel a little proud, actually!
My videos were being watched by a lot of people, more than the usual amount that visit my page. It helped that I was starting to add hashtags, and I guess a lot of people will be visiting the country when the Olympics take place, so I’m not saying it’s because of me, but still … chufty badge.
I’ve planned three nights in Hiroshima, two full days, and then on the third day I’ll be taking a long day of travelling to get the trains right back up to Nagano, an area sort of central within the main Honshu island of Japan, which is really mountainous and beautiful, by the looks of it. And there are monkeys who sit in hot springs; that’s my main reason for wanting to go.
Back to the present, since I’ll be rolling into Hiroshima station in the next ten minutes or so. Outside the window the view has become more urban, but enveloped with the protective embrace of green-covered hills around the city. One of the things I can’t wait to see while I’m here is the Miyajima Shrine, one of the most iconic views of Japan, but that will have to wait until my last day because with no set plans to follow I’m leaving that until the day with the sunniest forecast, so I can see the colours in all their glory.
Ding. My phone alerts me to a new private message on Instagram. Thomas Day. That name sounds familiar. I hope it isn’t because I’ve seen him on the news as a serial sex pest and I’m about to open a dick pic.
Hello Charlotte!
Hope you don’t mind me getting in touch, and if you don’t remember me, hope you don’t mind me sliding into your DMs – I promise I’m not a creep! We met just before Christmas at the Adventure Awaits recruitment day? We swapped Instagram handles after pairing up during the awkward journalist–reader role play, though if we’re both being honest I think you were just humouring me when you said you were interested in seeing my travel photos, ha
ha.
Right, I do remember him! Of course I do. Thomas, with the dark-stubbled face and big smile. Thomas, with the kind eyes that sparkled with excitement when we talked about his next big trip to the US and the sights he wanted to see and photograph, and mine to Japan, and how he wanted to stay in touch so I could tell him all about it.
Anyway, I’m pretty sure you’re the Charlotte who got the internship over at the main magazine, and if so, congratulations! If not, this is even more awkward that the role play. When Amanda sent me an email about our (?) first day she just mentioned ‘Charlotte’. I wondered if it was you, and then I watched your video the other day and you said something about starting at a magazine when you’re back from your holiday, so … here I am!
Anyway, just wanted to say hey, and looking forward to catching up on day one.
Thomas (Day)
That was so nice of him to get in touch. I’d all but forgotten our encounter at the recruitment day, but I genuinely wouldn’t have landed the internship without his help.
7 December, last year
Saturday morning, 10.40am
My palms were sweating and I couldn’t stop touching my hair. I knew I couldn’t, every time I went in for another fiddle I scolded myself, but then went in again. Mara would have smacked my hand out of the way for me, but she wasn’t here, it was just me.
Me, and about thirty other hopefuls. I looked around the room, where we were all peacocking like IRL-influencers, trying to have the most winning smiles, the biggest laughs, the most serious, studious faces when listening to the recruiters. I tugged at the sleeve of my grey blazer, looking stuffy among the others in their peach blouses and flamingo-print skirts. They looked a lot more like they’d fit in at a schmancy London travel magazine headquarters than dowdy old me.
This was so not the place for me. I mean, I wanted it to be, but I’d never been to a recruiting event before and I hadn’t mentally prepared for how cut-throat it would feel.
I texted Matt: I don’t know what to do, everyone is just standing around at the moment networking but I don’t know who to talk to.
He replied instantly. Talk to anyone. Literally anyone. But get off your phone!
Shit, he was right, I hoped nobody saw and jammed my phone back into my suit trouser pocket immediately and looked around for someone to chat to.
‘Do you want to see something embarrassing?’
And there was my someone. He was tall, with dark hair pushed to the side and a stubbly beard, but in a smart yet relaxed way; he didn’t look scruffy. Far from it. He was, like me, buttoned into a sharp grey suit, he even had a tie. The other guys striving to land a job at the end of the Adventure Awaits group’s recruitment day were in a rainbow of sky-blue linen, forest-green moleskin, cool khaki slacks.
He smiled down at me, his hands in his pockets, his eyes kind. ‘Do you? Do you want to see something really embarrassing for both of us?’
‘What?’ I asked.
He looked around like he was checking who was watching and then peeped open his blazer, shifting his tie to the side, and flashed me his shirt underneath. White, with lemons printed on it. A ‘colour pop’, Brienne would have called it. A quirky little detail in your outfit to stand out but stay professional.
I know … because I had the same shirt on.
I laughed and covered my mouth. ‘So did I accidentally shop in the men’s section of H&M, or did you shop in the women’s section?’
‘I don’t know, but I think we’re both rocking it.’ With that, he unbuttoned his suit jacket and loosened his tie, and stood proudly, his shirt on display. I did the same next to him, and noticed one of the recruiters look over at us, mid-conversation, and smile.
‘Thank you, I needed that,’ I said, turning back to the man. ‘I’m Charlotte.’
‘Thomas. You ever been to one of these before?’
‘Nope, I’m terrified, you?’
‘Same.’
We chatted easily, him telling me that he was into travel photography, me telling him I was more on the travel-writing side. He paid attention when I talked, and his gentle charisma meant that I did the same for him without even trying. Around us, other conversations seemed peppered with darting glances of ‘is there someone more important I should be talking to’. But we had all day to impress, and in that moment I was grateful to Thomas for saving me from running away before I’d even tried.
Oh, that’s so nice to know that if I do go ahead with the internship, or apply for and get the job, he’ll be there too. I shoot off a quick reply, asking how he is, telling him where I am at the moment and then sit back, ready to roll on into a new city.
I’ve booked into a hostel in Hiroshima, and that’s where I head now, a few minutes’ walk from the station.
‘Konnichiwa,’ I bow to the receptionist when I walk in, and she doesn’t respond for a second, watching the screen of a TV off to the left. I turn to look and see a baseball game being played, and somebody just about to take a massive thwack (you may have guessed I don’t know a lot about baseball).
‘Oh noooooo,’ she says when he missed and then turns to me. ‘Konnichiwa, checking in?’
‘Yes, please, I booked a bed in the dorm, watashi wa Charlotte desu.’
‘Konnichiwa, Charlotte, welcome to Hiroshima, have you been here before?’
I shake my head. ‘First time here, first time in Japan.’
‘Do you like baseball?’ she asks.
‘Sure,’ I lie.
‘The Zoom-Zoom Stadium is only about ten minutes’ walk from here if you want to see a home game by the Hiroshima Toyo Carps.’
I’m not sure what she’s talking about, but in the spirit of adventure, maybe I will check this out. Tomorrow. For today I think I just want to get my bearings, and some dinner.
She takes my passport to photocopy and I fill in a few forms, then she gives me a quick tour. ‘Big communal space, have a relax in here, this is the kitchen, help yourself to any of the sauces on that shelf, and to the tea. You can rent towels and bikes and a load of other things from us, just let me know if you need anything. Okay?’
‘Okay.’
I’m a little sleepy from the travelling, but determined not to fall into the trap I did in Kyoto – crawling into bed on arrival – so I go for a quick shower, washing the last grains of Ishigaki sand down the drain, and head out into Hiroshima.
As I pass reception, I reach past a group of Japanese guys a couple of years younger than me who are checking in, and take one of the free maps on the counter.
Outside, I take a long walk beside the Enko River, one of several rivers that ribbon their way around the city. I pass sparkling office buildings, quiet parks, blue water and green trees, the grey tips of Hiroshima Castle in the distance. I have no destination in mind for my walkabout, I’m just letting my legs take me on an adventure.
The next day, I wake early and head into the city before breakfast, wishing to reach my destination for today before any crowds arrive.
In 1945, Hiroshima was mostly destroyed by the first atomic bomb during the Second World War. Today I’m going to visit the hypocentre.
The morning is sunny, the rivers gentle and the streets quiet. I cross the Kamiyanagi Bridge and make my way towards the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park. This was once the city’s commercial heart, but four years after the bombing it was decided to turn the area into a place for remembrance.
I see what they call the ‘A-Bomb Dome’ first, one of the only structures left standing due to being directly under the bomb; today, the metal and stone ruins are a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
I stand for a while on the edge of the Motoyasu river, looking up at the dome, shielding my eyes from where the sun glints off the metal frame. Things like this … they have a way of putting things into perspective. I turn, and head for the bridge that will take me into the memorial park itself.
Thousands and thousands of birds, all colours of the rainbow, rest in glass cases beside the Children’s Peace Mo
nument. The origami cranes, intricate folds of paper delicately constructed and sent to Hiroshima from all over the world, are an ongoing tribute to a little girl named Sadako Sasaki who died from radiation poisoning-related leukaemia in 1955. Sadako believed a Japanese tradition that folding a thousand paper cranes would bring a wish, and her wish before she passed away was world peace.
I walk through the Peace Memorial Park, exploring the monuments and taking in the history, though it’s hard to imagine how the city looked all those years ago compared to the metropolis here today.
My heart tells me it needs to process what I’ve seen this morning and reflect before moving on with thoughts of adventures. I stand on the edge of the park and wonder what to do with myself. What will take up the afternoon but requires little noise or action. I could visit a gallery or museum; I hear Hiroshima has some fantastic art. I could see if there’s a baseball game but … I’m not really in the mood. I mean, I can think of something I’d like to do, but whether I could arrange it on short notice …
Spotting a sign for an information centre nearby I trudge over and stand in a queue. And after a near-miss where I almost booked myself onto a three-day tea-making expedition, I manage to secure an open spot on a traditional Japanese tea ceremony, which sounds exactly what I need.
Not least because I’m busting for a cuppa.
The directions the information assistant gives me lead me out of Hiroshima City itself and towards a port town called Tomonoura, a short train and bus ride away.
When I step off the bus, I could be back in Europe at a Mediterranean fishing village. The sunlight pools yellow, reflecting off the stones and pathways, and small boats bob on the water in the harbour. Islands pop out of the glittering sea and fishermen string lines of sea bream out to dry in the afternoon spring air. As I follow my directions through the neat, sleepy alleyways, I love how off the beaten track it all feels.
