This is a very late post about Hachijojima. I went there on May 12th, less than a week after I'd gotten back from 'Nam...
Even after all the jet-setting, mama didn't get no rest. I had to meet up with the island sisters in a little Shangri-La called Hachijojima
Hachijo is the southernmost of the Izu Islands. Niijima's in the middle and we're pretty wee, about 2,300 and some change. Hachijo's got about 8,000, with prostitutes constituting about 2,000. Okay, that's bullshit. I'm sure it's more like 50. And once again, I'm "talking" too fast. Let's go back.
Getting to Hachijo was a bit of an ordeal for me. I had to take the jet boat and hang out in Tokyo for a few hours, even though Hachijo is so close by. It's right there! No, over a bit...yeah, right there. I know!
But Tokyo on a Friday night is raucous. American buskers, I ain't even dealing with your shit anymore. Tokyo street musicians put on a show, complete with eight-piece bands or goth girl fans doing synchronized dance moves in the front row. There were pouty-faced, perfectly-coiffed boys pleading "[something, something in Japanese] loooove [something, something]." There was a goth cross-dresser with rainbow hair. There was a HORN BAND.
I reluctantly left Shinjuku and headed back to the pier. And there were no cross-dressing goth men to sing me to sleep on the 11 hour ride.
When I awoke, we were almost at the island. I found Paulette in another room, looking slightly peaked from partying with her dentist last night (Was there a little novocaine in your drink, Pauletter?). We got off the boat and there was Andrea! Huzzah! The covenant was almost complete.
(Note: We are not wearing do-rags. I just found a bunch of free swimming caps and I thought I'd share the wealth)
She immediately whisked us off to see the sights. Unlike my islands, this one's pretty big. You need a car to get around. There's a lot of lush vegetation and two dormant volcanoes, Hachijo-fuji and Mihara-yama. Andrea took us to this old-style Japanese house that had a taiko drum handy.
We went for a mini-hike to a waterfall,
and took a bazillion pictures of us playing Jungle Princesses.
There was also a steep climb to a peaceful little shrine.
If you'll take a moment to notice the round stones. The Izu Islands used to be THE premier hotspot for any convict worth his salt. Prisoners would lug smooth, round stones from the beach to use in the building of walls or pathways. In exchange, they'd get some porno manga or a beer. I forgot what Andrea said.
Then we went to a footbath overlooking the water. It had stones embedded at the bottom and you're suppose to walk on it for a sort of reflexology massage. The places that hurt your feet are where you're most unhealthy.
Maybe I have TB or something, cuz it hurt all over!
We had lunch at a restaurant famous for its spectacular view....
from the toilet.
It has this huge window looking out on to the bay. It's suppose to be one-way, but I sneaked up on Paulette while she was peeing and I swear I kinda almost saw her wiping her butt. Maybe.
And then we went to the airport to pick up Rebecca. While Niijima and Kozu have a strip of cement and a souvenir kiosk, Hachijo's airport is tricked out. They have a huge souvenir shop selling t-shirts, ashitaba cookies, and lil racist figurines. They have lovely stewardesses smiling at you. And if you ask real nice at the info desk, they let you use their markers to make a welcome sign. Which we did.
The covenant was complete. We went and had kakigori at this funky little cafe. That's what I really loved about Hachijo: it had lots of quirky, original little spots that made the island feel charming and lovely. My islands have their beauty spots, but they seemed marred by the lack of artistic sensibility.
Anyways, THIS is kakigori:
A delicious concoction of shaved ice, condensed milk, and chocolate syrup. Best enjoyed on balcony at sunset.
(Kakigori and sexy sunset photos courtesy of Paulette)
We went back to Andrea's place to sample all the booze we brought. Then we headed out to this awesome pub that had Bass ale on tap and big ol' burgers. Yeah, our Australian bartender was colder than a well-digger's ass, but he didn't mind when we took pictures of boobs.
This is Lisa, one of the Hachijo gaijin.
And here's her tits:
And this is her skeevy boyfriend:
and his tits:
(gross!)
He didn't say much, just squinted and drank. He's got quite a sketchy past, but you'll have to go to the island to get the all the gossip.
Lisa, being the good party girl that she is, knew of another shindig down the road. We drained our beers and headed over. Turns out everyone was leaving and going to the hospital to party! Hospital party! I'm in. I was disappointed to find out that what I thought was an ambulance
was just a big taxi and what I thought was a shindig at the OR,
was actually party at this guy's house:
Ladies and gentlemen, you're looking at one of the grossest dudes I've ever met, and I've met some skeevy bastards ("Hey, where'd Lisa's boyfriend go?). This is Hachijojima's only gynocologist/obstetrician. Now, when the only game in town says stuff like, "I've seen every woman's pussy on this island,"* it doesn't exactly inspire confidence. I don't care if I've got a five-headed hydra baby punching its way out of my uterus, I would NEVER go to this guy. I'd try to figure out self-delivery on the internet or call a repairman.
It was a pretty hilarious situation. He invited us over and then set an egg timer so that we would leave at exactly 1am. It was pretty lame, but we made the best of our situation: We fondled his taxidermied animals
and drank all his fancy whiskey. We later switched over to shots of water,
which Rebecca had a hard time finishing. I guess her body doesn't know what to do when it receives something other than hard liquor. At one point, Dr Love came over to shush us, so we put a drink to our mouths to quiet us down.
At 12;55, gyno gave us a warning. At 1:00 exactly, we took leave of the lecherous doctor. We promised ourselves the next time we went to his house, we'd shit in a shoebox an leave it under his bed. Or perhaps we'd drop a cherry bomb in his toilet. Whatever. We'll have you in our thoughts, gyno. And shudder at the memories.
The next day, I made french toast and we all had a good breakfast in our bellies. We said goodbye to Paulette and that was lame. Rebecca and I sat around, listless and inconsolable until Andrea came back. We went off to play explorers,
and then to the onsen. Huzzah. It turned out to be one of the nicest onsens I've been to. It was free, it was empty, and it was right next to a waterfall.
Damn! All I needed was Jean Claude Van Damme in a skimpy towel feeding me orange sherbert. What?! Yeah, I said Jean Claude Van Damme. Dude is hot. Especially circa 'Universal Soldier'.
To add to the idyllic afternoon, we had a picnic in the park.
It was lovely and green and full of birds who mocked me every time I tried to take a picture. I took about fifty. Here are three:
There was also a petting zoo full of these guys:
I don't remember their names, but I know they love to eat ashitaba and little girls.
And then! We did one of he coolest things ever. We broke into an abandoned hotel. Well, we didn't so much break into it. More like, walked into the broken front door. We found broken glass and furniture everywhere, as if a hurricane had hit.
I cursed myself for forgetting my quarters...
Yet, there was so much still in place. We found luggage tags, room keys, and guestbooks. We went up to the rooms and found linens on the beds and toothbrushes still in their wrappings. The best find was the empty tiled onsen.
The whole place had a haunted feeling to it, as if there were still guests from the swinging sixties sipping fruity cocktails in the lounge. I wonder why everything was left behind to mold....I would never come back to this place alone, and certainly not after dark. It's that spooky and fun. It's what you wished you had in your town when you were twelve.
We pillaged a few things and then went to the ramen shop for a delicious meal of miso ramen and beer-u. Then we went home and watched Pan's Labrynth.
Oh wait. Wait. I'm leaving out the whole raison d'etre for this entry (I mean, aside from the reunion): Hooker Alley! Andrea had mentioned it in passing and so we twisted her arm very hard until she turned the car onto the small side street lined with snack bars. While we didn't see any hookers, it was still cool being on their turf. I wished aloud for a cigarette. Then we checked out this bar/shack thing run by an ex-sumo wrestler!
There were pictures of his glory days all over the place.
The joint was pretty tiny and there were already some characters there: On one side was the quiet and gentlemanly off-duty cop. On the other was this wrecked-looking dude,
who was telling Rebecca how much Oshima sucks. Now, Rebecca is Oshima's English teacher and the only reason she didn't kick his ass was because her stomach was a little upset that night.
The next day, we took our leave of Hachijo
and flew to Oshima. I hung out with Becks at her high school and guest-hosted her English class.
This high school is super cool. They have diving classes and the sailing club goes to Saipan for three months. How bad ass! Let's see, where did my high school go? Kellogg Bowl, about a few blocks up the street. No, yeah, that's pretty cool, I guess...
Rebecca and I went on a mini-tour of Oshima....
(those are the layers of lava from past volcanic explosions)
which happens to be quite a convenient place for bursting into song,
and then we went to an excellent yakitori to fill our bellies with beer and delicious meat on a stick.
The next day I jetboated back to my island. It was great to see the ladies again and catch life on the other islands. Do yourself a favor, go to Hachijo and treat yourself to a waterfall onsen bath and a hooker at the ex-sumo's place. You won't be sorry.
*Yeah, all the gossip I got about Hachijojima and it sleazy denizens was mostly second-hand and may be just rumors, but whatever. Makes the place more exotic.
