My camp for tonight

I stopped into a VERY small "supermarket" to get some bread. Nagata being the one-horse town it is, calls the tiny shop it's one and only food market. The little mart is only about a quarter the size of a typical 7/11. The husky old bird that runs the joint was shooting the breeze with a daintier, shyer old lady when I came pulling up on my 2 ton monstrosity of a bicycle. I was hungry and worn from a hard day of up-hill struggles, but found it very easy to put on my best smile and give the women a heartfelt "Konichiwa!" (Hello). My cheerful tone was reciprocated. The shop owner quickly rambled into the store after me. I had planned on picking up sliced bread and maybe some chocolate. There wasn't any sliced bread, but in its place I did found two small round sweet breads and grabbed them. I got a "Crunky" chocolate bar - NOT CRUNCHY, though that would better describe the product (this is Japan
- land of strange and interesting Engrish). I am quite familiar with the ol' Crunkies. They're one of my favorites, and I've eaten a good many of 'em. The things I hadn't planned on buying were a box of chocolate pies, a small bag of assorted cookies, a small bag of bite-size milk chocolates, and a cold Asahi Super Dry Beer. Temptation got the better of me! I've been very good though and after a day like today, felt a bit of spoiling was in order. After all, I hadn't bought any beer or chocolate, or any kind of "food /drink accessory" thus far on the trip. The total damage was \800 (US $8.00), and I could live with that.
After paying for my decadent bounty, the sweet-faced but strong shop owner asked if I would be camping for the night. I replied with an uncertain "yes". I knew that I'd be sleeping outdoors of course, but hadn't much of a clue as to where that would be. She continued on "Doko?" (Where) "Mada kimata nai desu" (I still haven't decided) I told the quick, stern woman. She then went on to inform me that there is a proper campground just up the road and that camping on my own "doko demo" (anywhere) was strictly "dame" (forbidden). She gestured this with an "X" sign she made with her hands as to reinforce her warning. She repeated herself a second time and I took the "hint". Now feeling rather intimidated by the cold hard fact barer, I had made up my mind. Tonight I would most definitely NOT set up camp on a back farm road next to a stream as I always had. I made up my mind to find and stay at this
campground the shop owner spoke of. My obliged state of mind led me to this place. About a mile up the road from that shop, I spotted a big professionally made sign out on the side of the road alerting passersby that there is a "campground" here. The sign is in no way indicative of what lies up the small concrete-paved hill beyond it. This place is basically Sanford and Son's old joint. Personally, I love it. There are plastic crates, buoy markers, varying lengths of lumber, flowers in pots on rusty steel shelves, cinder blocks, rusty propane tanks, old tires, and anything else you may need, strewn all about the place.
One thing there wasn't, was another sign of human life. I called out "Sumimasen....sumimasen!" (excuse me), but there was nobody. I even walked on up the road as if somehow that would help. When I got back to my bicycle, I resigned to the fact that there just wouldn't be anyone there, which really didn't bother me! I was tired and hungry, and it was getting dark. Spaghetti with meat sauce and mushrooms is on the menu tonight, and so I started cooking it. No sooner did I start cooking, did a little blue truck come rolling up the hill. A little old man, maybe 70 with a crooked eye came out and without speaking really, began showing me around the set up. I tried to pay him the \800 fee, but he informed me that a woman would be around shortly, and she would take care of the fee and other stuff. The small man explained while getting back up into his equally small truck. Just before driving away,
he asked what country I am from. When I told him America, his response was "That's tough coming all the way to Japan from so far away" (he spoke in Japanese).
Within minutes after the little man had left, a little old woman about the same age came up the drive in an old heavily beat and dented silver economy car. She is friendly and independent. Later while having dinner, I asked if she runs the place alone. She told me she manages it with that same old man I had met before, but it sure seems like she is taking care of the joint mostly on her own.
She recommended that I set up my tent under this silver tarp - covered greenhouse frame in case there was any rain. I took her advise, but left out the tent for tonight. I'll just lay my bed roll and sleeping bag on the sand and sleep in the open air.
Before leaving me to my devices and going about her own business, she showed me one last thing. She walked me over to another greenhouse just across from mine. In it is a green mini van. We walked along the left side of the vehicle to the back of the greenhouse. At the back, she proceeded to lift up a loose flap in the silver tarp. "Out here is the beach" she informed me. The flap in the silver tarp is like a magic portal into another dimension - beyond it is a huge, beautiful beach - NAGATA INAKAHAMA! It's a famous sea turtle nesting ground, marked throughout the town and on maps by illustrated renditions of the marine reptiles.

My camp for the night.