Another travel day. After an abundant breakfast with rice, miso soup, curry soup, pickled veggies, eggs, and a couple of sorts of fish, I went down to the ground floor of my hotel and 5 minutes later I was at the railway station ready to take the 3-hour ride to Wakkanai.
I think Hokkaido should be called The Beautiful Island, for the green carpet of forests and rice fields make the landscape infinitely varied as the train meanders parallel to rivers that flow merrily toward the sea.
Wakkanai is at the northernmost end of Hokkaido (and hence Japan), and has the allure of being at the end of the world (I have used that expression many times in the past, referring to Tierra del Fuego, Finisterra, Shirotoko, and Los Cabos--to name but a few--for all those places where the spirit craves for venturing into the unknown), in this case reinforced by the fact that many signs are in both Japanese and Russian.
I moved rapidly from the train station to the ferry terminal to take the ship to Rebun Island, where I am going to spend a couple of days hiking. I am installed in a comfortable Japanese-style hotel, and from my 6th floor window have a spectacular view of Mt. Rishiri, a volcano that I plan to climb three days from now.
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