Nagano Station

So, I got to Nagano station. On the platform is a great noodle stand and I was hungry. It had to be good because of sizable number of Japanese ate there. Unfortunately, by then my mind was processing ahead to the next steps I needed to take and I did not take any pictures. After the excellent noodle soup, I exited the platform and asked an attendant, still in the Shinkansen section, how to get to Snow Monkey Park. He pointed at a large hand-written sign that indicated two busses that would take me there. I followed another sign, once I checked through the gate, and found the bus stops down below, next to the station. I waited and a couple of young American guys came up with booklets in their hands. I asked them if those were tickets and they said that they were a combined bus round-trip and park access ticket. They told me where to get it. That was the riduculous part. A bus just arrived and I followed their directions. I had to go down a long flight of stairs, follow a long tunnel all the way under the Nagano train station, and nearly at the other side, there was a series of windows, once of which advertised the park and bus tickets. By then it was after 1400 (2 PM). By the time I finally got back, the bus and the two Americans were gone. The weather was hazy, snow was in the air, and the next bus was not due for nearly an hour. I was furious. I stood there in the cold wind and watched buses pick up people on winter vacation tours from all over the world. The greater Nagano area is a prime ski and winter sports area. Japan, after the US, is the second most ski-crazy nation in the world. Meanwhile, as the sky darkened, so did my mood. I was thoroughly pissed off. Finally, at long last the bus arrived. I got on and at least was out of the icy wind. The bus, at guaranteed safe speeds, slowly made its way out of town, passed the old Winter Olympics stadium, and into the open country and toward the mountains. When I finally got to the Park bus stop, an large group of Western, mostly American, tourists were waiting to get on. An old Japanese woman was running the bus stop and kept yelling four and held four fingers in the air. I looked at the tourists and asked, what does she want? They said, the park will close at four. It was 1510 (3:10 PM). Dang! This did not look good. I was very upset by this time. This whole excursion cost me about $150.

My Race Against Time

The bus left, the old lady retreated to her booth, and I stood there with no idea where to go. There were not even signs. Two American women walked by to look at the display in a closed store. I asked them, where the hell is the park. They point in a direction and said, you better hurry, they close at four. I raced off, only to see nothing. A T-section with a road leading up. So after talking to a Japanese, understood that I had some walking to do. I started to speed on my way, crunching through snow. Finally, an American kid was coming my way. He said that i was on the right street, but that the actual approach to the park is still some way off. When I got to the end of this street, there was a sign for me to take a right turn. And it said, 1.8 Km to the Park. I raced uphill and some English butthead in his LandRover pulls up next to me, asking me questions, not offering a ride. He was hoping to get to the parking lot in time and wondered if he could still get in. The nerver. Then he sped away. From this point on, all I could say, thank heavens, I'm in great shape. I powered up that mountain, after a while sounding like some steam engine, non-stop, tourists coming down, not many, but maybe 50-60 over the next 45 minutes. Finally, countless switchbacks later, I saw a creek with a large old wooden building and a lot of steam rising. I thought, hot springs. Up a series of steps, and at long last, a small shop or hut was up above me, blocking the way. When I got there, a sign directed me to a small gate and to the back of the building. The Snow Monkey Park. As I went through, a Japanese employee raced out of the building and yelled 'ticket please'. I stopped, gave him my ticket and he said,' five minutes. We are closing'. I could not believe my bad luck.

In the Park

Behind the building there was a small bridge, some rails to keep people from where the monkeys were, a little hot pool, and some idiot who was positively irate that I was still coming in. He kept yelling that he was closed, at me. I told him that I came from Tokyo and had to leave today again. He then said, ok, ONE MINUTE! I looked around, and there were a number of monkeys digging in the snow. A few were by the pool. I had a lot of expletives at the tip of my tongue, but thought, if this is all there is, I had better get busy. I got my camera and two lenses out and snapped a few shots. It was bizarre. I had absolutely no time to set anything up or get into any position for any decent pictures. He finally yelled, about three minutes later, after I was switiching lenses, CLOSED, CLOSED! So, I thought, this is it. I spent a long day, dealing with the rides, the stupid location of the ticket booth almost as far from the bus stop as is possible, a crazy race up the mountain, and now got about ten pictures. I was so hot under the collar, I was melting snow around me. I angrily stomped out. Here's what I got (not too shabby, considering the insane circumstances and a guy yelling at me and hovering over me, snow falling, and me changing lenses in the middle of it all. No pressure....:-) .