I Spent More Time Looking Out the Train Window Than at My Destination | Aomori & Hakodate Travelogue (August 2018) #1

In the quiet of the early morning, the sound of a suitcase rolling across the floor echoed strangely loud.
The steady rhythm of the rolling wheels seemed to anticipate my feelings, as if telling me it was already time to leave.

In this article, I write about the sensations that remained from the act of traveling itself during a day-long family trip on the Shinkansen in August 2018.
It is a story about how my heart was more focused on the time spent in transit than on the destination.

👜 The sound of the suitcase had already begun the journey

Having worried about the weather, it was a bit of a surprise to see this morning arrive safely.
Despite the early hour, my child didn't seem sleepy; instead, they moved with the purpose of someone who knew exactly what needed to be done, pulling their suitcase along.

When we arrived at Omiya Station, we bought breakfast to eat on the Shinkansen.
My child chose several rice balls without hesitation, and my wife and I each picked out a station bento box.
Even though we hadn't even passed through the ticket gate yet, our spirits had already traveled far ahead.

While waiting for the Shinkansen on the platform, my child left their suitcase in line, walked a bit, came back, and walked away again.
I pulled back my child's hand as they rushed forward shouting, "The Shinkansen is here!" and listened to the sound of the train pulling into the station.

👜 The window seat and the unchanging scenery

We had reserved seats in a three-person row in the standard car.
My child was by the window, I was in the middle, and my wife was on the aisle.
As soon as we lifted our suitcases onto the overhead rack, my child turned their gaze toward the window.

We were still in Saitama Prefecture, and the scenery hadn't changed much, yet they kept looking outside the whole time.
My wife and I watched their back without exchanging any particular words.

After crossing the Tone River and passing Oyama Station, the scenery outside began to blur a little faster, and my child seemed to notice.
Due to the early start, my wife and I fell asleep before we knew it, and when we woke up, we had no idea where we were.

👜 To see the moment of separation

Our destination was still a ways off, but my child suddenly woke me up.
They wanted to see the Akita Shinkansen being detached at Morioka Station, where we would be arriving soon.

Since the stop is short, we moved to Car 8 early.
It was just after we passed Shin-Hanamaki Station.
Other parents and children who seemed to have the same goal were gathered near the doors with their cameras ready.

When the doors opened, my child walked quickly toward the front of the platform.
After confirming that the Akita Shinkansen Komachi had departed first and the cars had been detached, we hurried back to our original car.

👜 A time of endless tunnels

Back in our seats, my child looked out the window again, but the scenery was moving slower than before, and tunnels followed one after another.
Once it got pitch black outside, they must have gotten bored, as our conversation began to pick up.

An announcement played that we were approaching Shin-Aomori Station, and I took down our suitcases to prepare for our arrival.
Even then, my child didn't take their eyes off the window until the very end.

👜 The same heat, even after traveling 700km

We arrived at Shin-Aomori Station, stood up from our seats, and stepped onto the platform.
Although we had traveled about 700km north, the air felt almost the same, and it was just as hot as ever.

Even though the journey was over, I felt as if my heart was still sitting in that window seat on the Shinkansen.
Perhaps a journey lasts longer while you are in transit than in the moment you arrive.

(To be continued)