Travel like a spiral [ Author and essayist : Akiko Terai ]
Travel has become my job. I write books, contribute essays, conduct interviews, write-up documentary scripts, sometimes work as a translator and accompany teams on location at shoots. Though the scope of my work has grown, I feel that finding stories in the places I visit is still just as important as writing.
In the course of doing all this, I find that there are certain places with a “magnetism” to them that I find myself having cause to visit again and again. One such location for me is the Setouchi, which, now that I think about it, I’ve been frequenting for eight years.
“If I have to get a driver’s license, I may as well go somewhere with a view of the sea.” - That was the occasion for my first trip to Setouchi.
On my way back after I had passed the exam, a friend suggested I should stop by somewhere nice on the way home and introduced me to a certain onsen. I entered the building to find that it was like an art gallery, with high ceilings, wooden tables in white rooms, and an interior filled with sunlight pouring in through windows along the wall. There was a dignified older gentleman reading a newspaper, and the sound of children running was beautifully echoing on the air. Within the actual hot spring area time flowed at a leisurely pace amidst plenty of greenery and even benches placed about so guests could bring in books to read.
I met the owner of the onsen, who was apparently an architect involved in all kinds of projects throughout the region. As we spoke, he explained his insightful view of the world to me:
“If something stands out too much, then its heyday ends all the more early. It’s same as with triangular spaces. That’s why I want to keep things easygoing and fun.”
When I paid him another visit a year later, he suggested that I stop by a certain island.
The sight of the gorgeous, seemingly endless beach took my breath away as I stepped off the ferry. I decided to spend the night at a guesthouse, and while I was watching the quiet waves since I had decided to stay in rather than explore, I struck up a conversation with the owner, who was also a chef that ran several restaurants and eateries on the island. My seeming lack of interest in sightseeing prompted him to offer to take me on a drive:
“Every day brings plenty of interesting things, even in a place like this.”
He told me of why he left Tokyo to return to this island where he grew up as we walked along the quiet nighttime seashore.
The chef told me of a bookstore that might interest me in another harbor town, so I tried going there next. It was filled with a carefully curated selection of photo books and travelogues. And, as to be expected, the waters of the Setouchi Inland Sea were visible from the counter in the cafe area.
The girl working in the bookstore mentioned how much she liked the library on this other island, so made a point to give it a look on my next trip. When I did, I became friends with a local photographer who had just happened to stop by as well. He worked his way over the rocky terrain nimbly, his shoulders loaded with equipment as he snapped photos of the beach and people:
“There are people whose presence circulates within the scenery. Those are the kinds of people I photograph.”
I travel in spiral.
I spin outwards and outwards from the starting point of a single place or encounter. My connections with others trace a rotating pattern, growing broader, deeper, and warmer.
Letting myself go with the flow while traveling reveals momentary glimpses into the life and work of the local populace. It enables me to discover values that I wanted to share myself, as well as words that capture their essence.
All of this makes my life back in Tokyo that much richer. In my most unsuspecting moments, such as when I’m making a decision at work, thinking of what to eat that day, or just trying to come up with a way to kill some extra time, snippets of those vibrant conversations will come back to me and give me a push in the right direction. It is for this reason that I believe finding such friends and wise people is the journey of my life.
The way these meetings chain together sometimes makes it feel as if I’m living out a single story. My connections in Setouchi, for instance, have since then led to more professional opportunities such as receiving work from local magazines, or being invited to hold release events for my books at stores in the area.
Just the other day I even accompanied the photographer I befriended in that library to Roussillon in the French countryside for a shoot.
Islands rising from the inland sea.
Tables lined with fruit and vegetables raised with the blessing of the wind.
Simple, fresh dishes made with fish straight out of the fryer.
The lack of overdone tourism there enabled me to experience the local texture and way of thinking all the better. We smiled as the beauty we found in the trip is just the same as the beauty we see in Setouchi.
Who knows how far this spiral will grow?
Pondering that question is what I relish most in my most recent travels.
Akiko Terai
Author and essayist with friends from nearly 100 countries due to her travels, overseas studies, and work. She records the stories of people living of the many lands she visits both in and outside of Japan. A lover of the seaside and moments when a distant place or person becomes a familiar presence.