With the exception of only one country (Ireland), I have never rented a car on my travels so I'm always at the mercy of public transportation. That works fine in most instances, except in remote, rural areas like Hokkaido, famous for its scenic wonders but very difficult to access unless you travel by car. And so it was that I found myself signed up for a sightseeing bus tour through Akan National Park, which promised stops at the park's most beautiful spots.There's something singular about being in a 40-passenger sightseeing bus-alone. Since it's not yet the tourist season and since the majority of Japanese I've seen in Hokkaido are traveling in their own group tours, I had the bus all to myself. As the tour guide, dressed in the requisite blue jacket and skirt, got up to give her spiel, I had to convince her she didn't need a microphone, seeing as how I was sitting in the front seat. But she still felt compelled to go through her entire speech (most of which I couldn't understand anyway), complete with bows. Luckily, an hour into the trip we picked up three Taiwanese tourists, making me feel less guilty about single-handedly bringing on more global warming. Since there were now four of us, out came the microphone, despite the fact that the Taiwanese didn't understand a word of Japanese. Our first stop was high above Lake Mashu, which must rank as one of Japan's most beautiful and pristine lakes, for the simple reason that the steep, 660-foot walls ringing it make it impractical for souvenir shops. Here, on an observation platform high above the lake, all three Taiwanese wanted their photo taken-with me in it. Of course, we weren't the only ones on the lookout. There were loads of group tours making the same rounds to the very same scenic spots.
Manshu Lake Then there was the exciting business at the foot of Mt. Iou, renowned for its sulfurous caldrons, where I bought a boiled egg from a vendor, who was then promptly driven off by a policeman, leading me to suspect that the egg hadn't been boiled in the adjacent sulfurous hot springs after all (but it being an egg, how could you tell?). I ate the egg anyway.
Mt. Itou At Kussharo Lake, where hot springs seep upward through the sand right on the beach, only kids were taking advantage of the hand-dug baths by the water's edge. But there were footbaths, which seemed more appropriate for the 15 minutes allotted by sightseeing buses at each famous spot.
Kussharo Lake Then the Taiwanese disembarked at the next stop, leaving me alone for the remaining one-and-half hours. And so it was that I found myself on windswept Bihoro Pass' highest lookout all alone, miraculously void of any other group tours, reveling in stunning views. Taking the sightseeing bus cost me, though. At its end I had to wait for a train and then catch a regular bus to my next destination, Sounkyo, making the entire trip almost 10 hours. By contrast, I could have gone directly from Akanko Onsen to Sounkyo by regular bus in less than 4. But then I wouldn't have seen the sights, even if it was only for 15 minutes, and there wouldn't be a story to tell. You might, I guess, say the same thing about life.
