The day was spent driving out through the mountainous region hours to the southeast of Wakayama city, visiting sights, based on verbal directions from Take's dad, and, it turned out, without any intention of maps. We traversed tunnel after tunnel through mountains, and passed through beautiful vistas of wooded mountains.
This dam drew us in for a peek.
We also stopped to walk across a bridge over a big lake.
As we hunted for our first stop, Watarase onsen, we sped around hair-raising hilly and curvy two-way roads barely wide enough for one car, while I dug holes in the car floor with my heels.
We tried out a private onsen, which was pretty darned nice.
During our spa, they'd been calling out in the public baths to let us know that our lights were on. We needed a jump start to get going.
Then we hopped back in the car to head for Kumanotaisha, a hill-top shrine, which was smaller than Take remembered it being. I took some time out to make a sketch of the shrine buildings from outside, as it appears no-one goes in to the main buildings. As I drew, in the building behind me, a religious music performance started up. It was punctuated by very tribal drums and yowls, a unique sketching experience indeed!
The stairway up to the shrine, from the top.
With the hours of driving, it was going to be dark by the time we reached Take's other intended destination of waterfalls, still an hour and a half on. We tried various accommodation possibilities, but, as we'd expected, everywhere was fully booked with the throng of Golden Week holidaymakers.
We headed back to Watarase Onsen, to try their communal baths, which were extensive, relaxing and popular.
The additional three hours' drive home in the dark, with frequent direction mishaps, traffic jams, and Dreamgirls yamming out their best lungs' worth, was tiring. Interesting was parlour after massive parlour of busily glittering pachinko and slot gambling venues, each spangling differently. Take says there's not much to do out in those parts by way of entertainment.
We stopped an a highway stop with an army of vending machines - hot drinks, snacks, icecream, cigarettes and alcohol, the works, very novel to an Aussie. This Japanese man, however, no doubt was wondering what on earth I was photographing.
Take entertained me with stories of how white English teachers often have their boobs or willies snatch-and-grabbed, with a cry of "Sensei!!" by students curious about rumours of the physical differences. He told me of a Canadian girl he knows in Japan who has huge boobs, and has now adjusted to an entire train carriage of men's eyes settling unfalteringly on them on the underground.
When we got back to Wakayama city, Take took me a restaurant called Colors. He likes to order a lot of food. Their specialty is omelettes on rice, or 'omuraisu'.
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