I accidentally drove into the heart of Fukui and it was getting late. I wanted to be by the shore so I could find a parking area to rest my heavy feet and pass out. I turned the car west and randomly drove toward the sea. I really wanted to bathe and out of the corner of my eye I spied a board advertising just that. It was a dark looking onsen hotel that maybe never had better days from the beginning.
The bath was nothing to speak of but I felt good to be clean after my hiking around Amanohashidate. After the bath I was driving yet again to find a resting place for the night when I remembered my camera batteries were all dead. There was no way I could show up to Kenrokuen the following morning with dead batteries. Out went the notion to sleep by the sea. I found a rest area and made sure there was an outlet somewhere outside where I could charge my batteries in the middle of the night. Success. When morning hit I was up and running to Ishikawa but not before revving up my body with a short walk.
The map had shown me this spot as something of worth. It might have been. Well, yes it was.
Rocks. Water. Perfect.
Some other curious travelers greeted me and then gave me a friendly warning "Don't fall off. It's dangerous being alone." I should have pretended I was going to fall off in that moment. I'm too righteous in my split second thinking however.
My face says it well. I hobbled over the rocks and breathed in the crisp sea air. My favorite was the man who was fishing out on a lonely rock. He was probably just as happy to be there as I was watching him. I often have such moments.
In the quiet morning light, before any crowd reared their faces, it felt like a ghost town there.
Old tourism buildings feel so sad even if they are still alive. Testaments to changing time and decay of life.