A tall chasm and cool breeze mark the entrance to Akiyoshi Cave.

A small town and a very big cave

The keno board above the driver was almost completely lit and the villages we had been passing through had been getting smaller and more spread apart. The hills were becoming steeper and the road narrower, as well. Finally, the last light on the board clicked on and we came to our stop in the small town of Akiyoshi.

Our bus station was one of the larger buildings on the main street, which we crossed to get to the narrow shopping street that led to the caves. The street was quiet and held only a handful of weekday tourists. Even if we simply slowed down, a shop owner would call out a greeting to tempt us to stay just a little longer. One souvenir and snack shop did get our attention. Running along its front was a narrow channel and tiny pond full of large, colorful koi packed in gill to gill. The store was offering a small cup of fish food for a dollar. But today, they seemed to be as bored as the shopkeepers and just the hint of interest would bring them swarming to the surface. I had the distinct feeling that, if they had the ability, they would think nothing of leaving the pool and physically accosting us.

The shops were full of colorful, polished jade and other local minerals. Off on a side street, we could hear a stone cutter working in his small factory. The shopping street ended at the ticket gate to the cave, and turned into a winding, paved path that followed a rapidly flowing stream. Before long, we began to feel the cool breath of underground air following the stream. We turned a corner and the huge mouth of the cave loomed ahead of us, as tall and grand as any man-made portal I had ever seen. It helped prepare us for the cave's interior which, at points, is up to three-hundred feet wide. Even though all of it isn't open for tourists, the cave is over six miles long. The river that patiently carved away at the rock for the past 300, 000 years flowed steadily through its center, creating the largest limestone cave in Asia.

A broad, underground river flows through the center of the cave.

The limestone rock formations were as alien, bizarre and beautiful as anyone could imagine. Many of their names testified to the often whimsical imagination of the caves explorers: Kasazukushi (The ceiling of an umbrella shop), Kurageno-takinorbori (The jellyfish climbing up the waterfall), Samidare-goten (The rain palace), etc. A professional photographer had set up shop in front of Kogane-bashira (The golden pillar) for the benefit of the package tour groups passing through.

After we walked as far as we could, we doubled-back half way and took the long elevator ride to the surface and walked up a near-vertical path to the summit of the tall hill that covered the cave. A single shop was either being built or renovated at the side of the paved path. As I passed, I wondered if this was the beginning of yet another tourist shopping street.

The Limestone Plain

When we reached the summit, we came to a shining, white-tiled building that housed a two-story observation deck. It looked out over the rolling limestone-littered Akiyoshi Plateau that ran all the way to the distant horizons in front of and on each side of us. It does, in fact, occupy some eighty square miles. The pale, gray-white limestone, jutting up from the ground covered nearly half of the grassy plateau. The limestone outcroppings were once huge, underwater coral reefs from the Paleozoic era and over three-hundred smaller caves are scattered beneath them. The effect was an environment as alien as the one that existed several hundred feet underneath us. Below us to our left, yet another photographer was set up in front of a "V" of benches awaiting the arrival of the next tour group. They had the relative luxury of being shuttled between the elevator and the plateau by their tour bus.

By now, it was quite warm (especially after hiking through the cool air of the cave) and we stopped for something to drink at the snack bar across from the observation building. We then hiked for a while down the road to where our map identified a bus stop that would take us back the center of Akiyoshi. We found the bus stop exactly where it was supposed to be, however it was quite deserted and the one, afternoon bus was not due to arrive for over two hours. Obviously, there were some limits to the convenience of public transit in Japan. We hiked back to the steep path and returned to town via the cave. Before long, we were on the bus back to Yamaguchi.

As we stopped at the different villages, it became obvious that our bus also served as the local school bus. Uniformed students were getting on and off at the various stops. In the towns, they were everywhere, walking or riding bikes singly or in small groups--always boys with boys and girls with girls. I wondered how many of them, like my wife, longed for the day when the could leave their small town and move to the city. I also wondered if they could ever understand my deep desire to leave the city and return to a small town. I watched the keno board slowly darken as the last village melted into the city of Yamaguchi. The traffic was a little heavier than on our trip to the cave, but it was hard to believe that this was the beginning of rush hour. There was, however, much more activity in the station.

Standing Room Only

The reserved seats for our return trip were sold out, so we stood in the area between cars for the trip home. I positioned myself as close as I could to the small window on the one of the doors. The thought of standing in any vehicle that is moving at over two-hundred miles per hour was a little unsettling at first. Unlike the slower commuter trains, there were no poles or hand-holds to hang onto. But, I discovered that there was really no need for them. The acceleration and deceleration were almost imperceptible and there were no bumps or curves to test my sense of balance. And I realized that, at that speed, it wouldn't matter very much whether I was sitting or standing should a major mishap occur. (Actually, from what I can discover, the shinkansen line has an unblemished safety record.)

The local train from Hiroshima to Hiro was even more crowded, but somehow, we were lucky enough to find seats. Once again, the music of the rails lulled me to sleep. After a wonderful dinner of fish caught by my wife's father and brother the day before, we spent a quiet evening watching a subtitled version of Star Wars, Episode I her brother had rented for us.

Next: The family homes

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