The little old lady and the man from the kitchen waved us off from Momijiso (somewhat perplexed that we would walk down to the Pier, fully-laden with backpacks). We were way-laid for a 'brief' tourist survey just shy of the Ferry terminal itself - copping the uninterrupted sea breeze in the process. With a mild case of hypothermia, we eventually caught the ferry across to Miyajimaguchi Station - where I expertly directed us to the northern carpark (I underpassed when I should have overpassed).
The Shinkansen from Hiroshima took about an hour to reach Hakata Station in Fukuoka. That's the odd thing about Fukuoka - a large portion of the city's infrastructure is named after the Hakata side of town, even though the overall place is called Fukuoka.
It turns out there was a meeting held in 1889 to determine the name of the city formed from the merging of the two bordering towns. Hakata was the clear choice by all present initially, as it was the most tied to the areas culture and was the commercial hub. A group of Samurai from Fukuoka turned up however, and promptly 'swayed' the selection in Fukuoka's favour (sword mightier than the pen in this instance).
We went in search of a late lunch, and ended up wandering through (gargantuan backpacks and all) several floors of a well-to-do department store adjoining Hakata Station before finding some ridiculously saucy hamburgers in its lower levels.
Thanks to a helpful lady at the JR Ticketing Station (as well as the Google Translate she was using), we were advised that the bus we wanted was the 306. My navigational prowess from Miyajimaguchi continued, directing us off the bus about two stops early (in my defence, it looked close - and this particular bus was devoid of any English). Not having lugged our bags enough apparently, we made our final hike to the Hilton Sea Hawk.
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| The blade-like Hilton Fukuoka (its edge pointing out to sea). |
There was a nagging sense of 'do we belong in a place like this?' as we made our way into the impressive entrance. A rag-tag bunch of backpackers in crumpled travel clothes negotiating our way past scores of pin-striped businessmen in various shades of importance.
Fortunately we weren't shown the door, and our room allows us views over Fukuoka/Hakata/whatever, as well as what appears to be an accessible and sandy beach.
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| The beds get Joshie's approval. |
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| Some honest to goodness sand, next door to the Yahoo! Dome (has a certain ring to it don't you think?) |
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| View to the east - I think. |
We somewhat predictably descended upon the local Hard Rock Cafe - the tunes on this occasion including everything from System of a Down to Pat Benatar in her shoulder-shaking hey-day. The Martin parents partook of a couple of cocktails, mine the Windex-blue Electric Iced Tea, Jen's the sugary-fruit experience that is Riders of the Storms.
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| A little too conveniently located. |
Looking out over the city at night feels a world away from tatami mats and maple-lined Koi ponds of this morning. Both bring the same sense of serenity however - or is that just due to the kids being asleep?
Our plans for tomorrow include watching the subtlety and finesse that is... Sumo wrestling. I shall quite enjoy feeling svelte for a change.
