Sadogashima

So where the hell is Sadogashima? You might ask… but if you were to look carefully at the map of Japan, Sadogashima is one of the most prominent places you might find. That’s right, Sadogashima is actually the fourth or fifth biggest island of Japan (differs according to surveys). It is the small island that stands out on the top left of the archipelago of Japan.

So one fine day, I decided to pay a visit to Sadogashima, a popular destination for Niigata school trips, but not very popular among tourists, but Sadogashima eventually gave me a few surprises and some lessons to learn.

Sadogashima is famous for its hegisoba,  a type of soba that does not fit our visual interpretation when we hear the word “soba”. It is laid in a few rolls on a flat box, and is eaten roll by roll by dipping into the tsuyu sauce.

Sadogashima is accessible on ferry from Niigata ferry terminal, which is 10 minutes bus ride from JR Niigata Station, or a 25 minutes walk. There are several classes to the seats available in the ferry.

Second class: carpeted ground space for you to sit, lie down, and roll about.

First class: Sofa and chairs, that restrain you from stretching your body as you wish.

Special class: A bed is provided for you to sleep away the precious time on the ferry.

Suite: A suite room with bedroom and living room and other unnecessary facilities, that cost more than 10,000 yen altogether.

By the way, second class seats are a mere 2350 yen, so who in the right mind would pay 10,000 yen for a suite room just for two and half hours?! I got my second class seats, found a huge spacious carpeted ground to put my luggage, sit down, and observe what the others were doing. Most of the passengers were elderly people, and everyone was engrossed in their own activities: laying a blanket on the ground and sleeping on it, reading books, chatting loudly, and an elderly couple struggling to do sit-ups on a ferry.

After a two and half hours ride, we arrived at Sadogashima, where I alighted and started walking to the hotel inn I booked, instead of taking the bus. The scenery around me was something new, the shops and streets looked old and old-fashioned. Raindrops started falling as soon as I got out of the ferry terminal, but nevertheless I took out the map to check the location of the inn.

I found a Family Mart (a convenience store chain) that looked awkwardly different from the familiar green and homely Family Marts we are used to in mainland. The island was quiet and scarily lacking of people, or the presence of which. I became increasingly engrossed in the magnificently rowdy sea waves crashing into the shores of Sadogashima, as I walked on and on, leaving the map of the island at the back of my head. When I finally decided to confirm my current location, it was too late, I was terribly lost.

But wait, how can you ever be lost in Japan? Just pluck up some courage and raise your voice to ask someone, and most likely you will get a friendly reply. However, of course, if you speak in English, you might get a frightened look, or you might see the person galloping at full speed in the other direction.

To my pleasant surprise, I got more than a friendly reply.

The lady found out that I was on the wrong side of the map, and generously offered to drive me in her car to my destination.

I learnt afterwards that the frequency and number of buses decrease drastically in winter due to the less number of tourists to Sadogashima. And so I was scratching my head to decide where to go, due to the constraints in time. I had to consider the timings of the buses available and make sure I manage to catch the connecting bus back to the ferry terminal to take my ferry back. I decided to go to Senkaku-wan in the end. 

The sumptuous meal at the inn

Due to the lack of buses, I had to resort to taking a taxi to Senkaku-wan. The taxi driver, probably out of curiosity, asked me, “So where do you come from?”

“Tokyo,” I said. Well to be exact, I came from Singapore to Tokyo, and then Tokyo to Sadogashima. I usually say literally where I come from: Tokyo, because it would save the trouble of explaining why the hell a Singaporean was doing at Sadogashima. More importantly, it was so as to allow a smoother and more productive conversation.

If you want a productive conversation with a Japanese, never let them know that you are a gaijin (foreigner), because then, the conversation topics will be highly restricted to the following: 1. Wow your Japanese is really good! 2. Can you eat natto? 3. Do you like anime? 4. Wow your Japanese is really good!

And so, in order to facilitate a more productive conversation, I hid my foreign identity, or rather, I tweaked the question to my own advantage. As expected, we wandered off to a much more interesting conversation than “Wow your Japanese is really good!”

She told me about the beauty of Sadogashima in summer, where sunflowers would blossom over the fields we were passing by. She told me how tourists would get off the buses just to take photos of the picturesque scenery. And then she told me about how the young people of Sadogashima are all leaving the island to further their studies, leaving the island to be inhabited by only the old and retired.

I could sense a pang of disappointment and fatality in her tone. It then dawned upon me that this is the so-called urbanization. I looked around the roads around me. There was no one walking around, no cars around. Most people I met were elderly people, or people who came here for work.

However, the increasingly cold and indifferent society we are ironically familiar with does not exist on this island. The young lady who drove me on her car when I got lost was living evidence. This island is full of warmth, despite the increasing number of young people leaving the island.

I alighted the taxi, with the taxi drivers’ words lingering in my mind. I walked over the Senkaku-wan, and stood over the breathtaking view of the sea. The wind was howling, the waves crashing incessantly onto the shores. I could sense the message the waves and wind are bringing to us. Unfortunately, there was no one there to receive them.