My stay at Flatt's has unfortunately come to a gruesome conclusion. The original plan was for me to work 5 days. But, because the hosts would be absent for a day, and knowing that I was hoping to see something of the Noto peninsula while I was in the area, they suggested that I left a day early. I could then travel by bus to nearby Wajima, and spend the night there, before travelling on. This sounded a good compromise for all of us. But when I found it difficult to find a place to stay in Wajima, the idea of cutting short my stay, and - I admit - avoiding the third day working alone in the industrial kitchen, took hold. I decided to leave the following morning, 24 hours earlier than agreed. Life is short and, if I wasn't enjoying myself, I couldn't see the point in lingering.
It was an impulse decision, and I knew losing a day of my time would be annoying for Ben and Chakiko. But I wasn't expecting to unleash a storm, first from Chakiko, outraged at my selfishness, and that I could be motivated by/looking for more than supporting them in their business. ("It's not about you!") Then Ben picked up the wind and let forth a torrent of verbal abuse. Perplexed as they were, yet utterly uninterested in hearing my perspective, there was no possibility of communication. I wanted to compensate for the 6 hours of my time I would be depriving them, offering to work late that night. But Ben said he couldn't stand the sight of me. So that was that. Back down the road for one last, and supper-less, evening in the empty house.
This morning I was at the bus stop good and early, unable to decipher the timetable but wanting to move on a.s.a.p. By 7.07 I was on my way, following the coast southwards, not sure where I was going to end up.
Thinking about it, I think Ben and Chakiko's extreme reaction comes from professional pride. For three days I've heard about the hotel award, the media coverage, the compliments from top chefs, the hard graft, the importance of customer interaction, the uniqueness... And then some Woofer says, "I'm not happy here". How could that be? Had they maltreated me? No? Oh, I see, some mamby pamby emotional thing, was it. At one point even the resentful compliment (too late after two days with no thanks for anything), "You're the best worker we've had", felt like an accusation - of what I was taking away from them. I do see it from their point of view - so I've been suffering, today. But Ben's behaviour confirmed why it couldn't work for me.
Buses are not my favourite way of travelling because it's hellish tricky, with everything in Japanese. So it was reassuring that the sea continued to appear on my left - it meant I was maintaining my direction south. At the end of the line I knew there was a train. With a bit of googling I thought I'd found an interesting seaside town, somewhat off the beaten track, where I could hang out for a couple of nights. Himi. What can I say. Hmm. It's a major fishing centre, with architecture of unparalleled dullness, looking onto the Japan Sea. It has some kind of tourist pull: at the station a minute tourist office was handing out maps and a brochure advertising the new shopping centre. I did pay it a visit (the kindly tourist man having given me a lift to the only hotel with a vacancy) and found wall-to-wall shops specialising in fish and fishy bits. Perhaps I should have noted more carefully the city website where the annual litter-collection day is listed as one of the attractions of the area. This certainly gives the flavour of the place. On a rainy November afternoon, shops all closed (I hadn't realised it was a public holiday), cash points all rejecting my Visa cards, Christmas Muzak piping through the loudspeakers to deserted streets, unable to find anything to eat - having not had supper or breakfast - I think this must rank as the low point of my trip!
But don't worry, Mum, I did eventually find a great noodle place. In a way I quite like free-fall travelling. And now I'm snug in a hotel waiting for my sashimi supper. Tomorrow? Who knows. I shall bumble on by train, east and then south, perhaps to a spa town for a (near) final fling...
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