Last weekend, there was a Sayonara Goodbye Party to say good riddance to all the JETs who are returning home, and I drove my trusty steed, Nakatsu Drift, to this remote mountain venue along with some friends from the JET Programme, Liz, Carol, and Sara (all ladies! high five!). On the way there, we found this sweet river and hung out on this bridge for a while. A driver stopped at the light said "Nice river, huh?" in Japanese, but Liz, perhaps suffering from extreme Japan foreigner-fascination over-saturation, said "Hi" but then, under her breath, said "Yep, we're foreigners alright." After I pointed out that he had merely said "Nice river," she felt appropriately bad. We then proceeded to arrive at the massive cabin for the party, at which point my memory becomes a little fuzzy. So let's fast-forward to the next day, when I took the ladies to one of my favorite spots in the world so they could see my favorite waterfall. We had a great time exploring it, and I think they really enjoyed it. It really is magnificent.
The view from the bridge:
Not the sturdiest-looking construction, quite honestly:
Lizzo, in one of my favorite places in the world:
One of the waterfalls:
Would you look at this water. Amazing.
Me, standing with a REAL Irish person (Carol) very high in the air. I'm 100% certain she was drunk.
Who knows? Maybe we're related somewhere back. Long-lost siblings.
Me, shortly after I endured a lot of pain at the hands of this rock. Read below for more on this harrowing adventure.
More about the harrowing adventure:
Funny story about the rock. I was wearing sandals. It was very wet, as you can see, and as I made my way gingerly over to it to have my picture taken, I took one last little leap before landing on it, and my feet just came out from under me. I was splayed out on top of this great stone before I knew what had happened, in a surprising amount of pain. I was just thankful I hadn't gone into the rushing torrent of water rushing past the rock. That would have been extreeeemely unpleasant. The ladies gasped for my safety, but I gallantly rose Phoenix-like from my soggy embarassment, shook it off, and tried to smile for this dashing photo. Of course they were wildly impressed.
By the end of the day, I could barely walk. I'm not as young as I used to be, I guess! I begged my kind neighbor to take me to the hospital, where the official verdict was that there was no fracture and that I was a wussy. Okay, they didn't say I was a wussy, but I felt wuss-like. It was painful, though, man! I think they enjoyed treating me, though, as they could practice their English and it was something out of the ordinary.
Bottom line: waterfalls and Irish people rock!
