I got to the Ueda train station early, mostly because I didn’t know what else to do and partly because I hoped to see a shinkansen zip through the station without stopping.  When I was in Ueda in 2019, this happened. I’m not sure if I wrote about it then, but it was such a terrifying and wonderful experience.

After a couple shinkensen came and went, I heard an announcement.  It didn’t come with the same chime before it that seemed to announce a train arrival.  And it was never repeated in English.  Then I heard the gates to the platform click.  They were already closed, but this sounded like a “just to be sure” locking of the gates.  Then the roar came.  I stood up to get a better view, but couldn’t get my feet to move closer.  I felt the air change ahead of the train and it felt like the wind tried to carry me with it as the train sped by.  My heart stopped.  I’m sure because after the shinkansen went through, my heart hurt.  I had trouble catching my breath.  Of course, there was no way to do a video of it.  It all happened too fast and I was immobilized from instinctual fear..  I wonder how fast it was going.  I’m sure it slows down a little to go through a station?  They need a digital display that reports the speed.  It did happen a second time.  This time I got a video which of course is nowhere near as dynamic as the real thing.  I didn’t go up to the gate for fear the train might take my phone. 

I was on the first train for one stop.  It took 15 minutes to travel what would have taken one hour by car.  You do the math.

I had 45 minutes to get to my second train.  When planning the trip, I left time in between just to be safe.  Two trains were listed on the electronic board for platform 6.  Mine was the second listed.  A train sat at the platform so I assumed it was the first listed on the board.  That train left and the next train came earlier than I expected mine to come.  I stared at it.  There was no station name or train name on it in English.  I stared at it and decided to not get on it.  A third train came in.  A European couple was standing near me and he asked if this train was the one that went to Matsumoto.  I replied “I hope”.  Most of the cars were empty.  This was great since the seats looked smaller than my suitcase.  As car 4 rolled up, it was completely full.  Crap, my ticket is for car 4.  The sign on the side of the car said car 4 Shinano 8.  I felt pretty sure this was the right train.  I stood aside to let people out.  They kept coming out.  I’d peek around the corner, more people.  More people.  I looked to the other end of the car.  It also had a solid line of people coming out.  It was like the clown car I remembered from when I was a kid.  More people came out than could possibly have fit in the car.  Now I was concerned.  Would the train leave before I could get on it?  When I finally got on, Car 4 was empty except for me, the couple going to Matsumoto and 4 other people.  Whew – my suitcase could have a seat of its own. 

A little more than an hour later I was in Matsumoto.  First order of business: lunch.  Second: coffee.  Third: bus station.  I searched for a restaurant and found the cutest coffeehouse that also had sandwiches.  Score!  Goals 1 and 2 together.  The coffee shop looked like something I would expect to see in Europe.  The china was ornate and gilded.  Grand desserts in foggy metal cups came out.  Was it dry ice or just super cold?  Large coffees and small coffee came out.  Small open face sandwiches came out.  The proportion of dessert to sandwich was way off.  I had a ham and cheese sandwich and thought of ordering the dessert, but didn’t.  I had ordered a cinnamon coffee.  It was cinnamon and orange.  I hadn’t expected the orange, but it was a lovely combination.

The bus station was across the street from the train station and two blocks from the coffee shop.  I had my ticket on my phone so I went past the ticket office and straight to the bus platforms.  There were 10 platforms.  There was a timetable on the wall.  None of the timetables showed my bus. I didn’t feel like playing the game of “pick any number between 1 and 10”.  So I went to the ticket office and asked.  Platform 7. 

Whoa, this was a bus ride to remember.  The road was so narrow with tons of twists and turns as it climbed into the mountains.  The road was not wide enough for two buses (in my opinion), but we passed many other buses and large vehicles anyway.  At some blind curves our bus would just stop and wait for other vehicles to pass before making the turn.  At a couple places he stopped even though he couldn’t see around the curve in the road.  When the big vehicles had passed he continued.  I wondered if he had some sort of large vehicle radar that told him when he could go.  Through every tunnel I could have touched the wall if I could stick my arm out the window.  The bus was just as close to every guardrail and every other vehicle as well – just an arms length away.  The guardrail looked completely insufficient for how steep the drop offs were.  Yes, I had my seatbelt on for the whole trip. 

Most of the way the road followed a river.  At the bottom it was wide and dark green.  It got wilder, spicier, and full of whitewater as we kept going up.  Many places the river was dammed creating blue mountain lakes.  There were also more tunnels than I could count.  After each tunnel was a breathtaking view of the river, a lake or waterfalls.  The mountainsides were covered in every shade of green that exists.  The forest was dense with no hint that anything other than forest, water and us existed.  It was a stunning , beautiful, terrifying drive and I had the best/worst seat in the bus – front row where I could see out the front of the bus and left side window where I could peer down every drop off into a river or lake.  There were still pockets of snow up high and I was very glad I wasn’t doing this drive in winter.

Sorry for bus window glare in some of my pictures, but it was the best I could do.