We spent a very long time in the car on the way to Nagano, and ended up in the next prefecture (which is kind of like crossing state lines). Along the way the Ogawas pointed out nice scenery and we did our best to talk about it together. We saw volcanoes and beautiful fall colors and lovely landscapes. It really is a beautiful country.

       

Next on our agenda was the soba. As mentioned, the area was famous for it; soba is a type of buckwheat noodle, and they make it from scratch in many of the shops. We found a shop and argued over what to eat for a while (complicated by my mom's slight squeamishness of some Asian food, my vegetarianism, and the fact that neither of us could read the menu). My mother ended up getting oyakodon and I got zaru soba. Mine was basically cold noodles with dried seaweed on the top, and I honestly think it was the BEST thing I ate in Japan.

Obviously there are no pictures from this, but my account should be sufficient. When we arrived at the onsen VERY ready for relaxation, we put up our personal things, left Mr. Ogawa on his own because he had to go to the men's side, and went into the bathing area wearing and bringing nothing but small towels. We had to choose a washing station and scrub down, then we were allowed to get in one of the four available springs. (Your hair and your washcloth are not allowed to touch the water, so if you have long hair like ME you have to put it up!) This bit was frustrating for me because the washing station I chose did not work correctly, and of course since it was my first time using one I thought it was my fault! (When I used one again after the fact, I realized that mine had been very stubborn.)

The onsen we visited is famous for its homemade beer, so it is traditional to sample the local delicacy. I chose not to do so of course (I'm not a beer person), but everyone else had something, there was ice cream and noodles and a bunch of other stuff you could order and eat and drink while sitting around low tables talking. My mom and I kind of zoned out because we didn't know what the others were talking about really, but there was a neat little conversation between my mother and Ogawa-sensei when they shared photographs and Mrs. Ogawa thought the old pictures of Patricia were fabulously entertaining. (Incidentally, I get the gist of most conversations in Japanese, and know just enough of the language to be annoyed by not being able to glean specifics.) Eventually we decided it was time to leave. The Ogawas refused to let my mother pay for the onsen, also, because they insisted it was Japanese tradition. I'm glad we got them as nice a gift basket as we did.

It was very late and very dark on the car ride back, and most of us slept at some point while Mr. Ogawa drove. (He was really a trooper!) They opted to drive us all the way back since it was raining instead of making us take the train again, and we thanked them profusely and went up to Patricia's apartment. I hadn't eaten anything at the onsen because we'd had vague plans to meet up with one of my sister's friends and go to a place called an izakaya, but my sister decided it would be better to save that for another time. Patricia fixed me a small snack and then we fell asleep.