May 9, 2025, Hokkaido, Japan. I was sad to leave Matsumae. I could have easily spent a week there, wandering in the hills and exploring the small town. It seemed a place outside of time, having been forgotten when the railroad no longer stopped here. I arose and packed around eight and headed to Tenoha Café. I found an older woman cleaning diligently. She showed me a sign saying they were closed for the week. I was disappointed because another sign had said otherwise. The man I’d seen yesterday making coffee came in, and I asked if I could get a café au lait. He said no, they were closed. About ten minutes later, he offered me black coffee instead, and I said thank you. I offered to pay, but he refused. When Shawn returned, he gave him a cup too. It was good coffee. I heated up one of my raspberry croissants from the French bakery in Hirosaki.

Then I headed down the street to see more of the town. I had planned to go up to the cherry blossom park but got curious about what else was in town, so I kept walking. I found a small local store that had handmade cloth bags and coin purses. I picked one with cats on waves and another cloth bag with pandas and multiple pockets. The lady was really sweet. She showed me photos on her phone of cherry blossoms she had taken and seemed very happy. She also showed me several different plants. We laughed, and I wrote in Japanese that we both loved plants. She smiled.

I kept walking until I came to a stream, then headed inland, passing agricultural fields and wild land, and ended up at a temple. Then I made my way toward the park and castle. I had to rush but still enjoyed the cherry trees as I walked down the hill to get my bag.

On the way to meet Shawn, I stopped at a store that sold dried fish. What caught my attention was some handmade crafts I saw on a shelf. I asked if they were for sale. The woman said they weren’t—they were gifts. Then she handed me a thread ball, which I think she had made. She showed me a few others: a small basket, tiny thread balls, and a rocking chair with small chestnut heads. I felt guilty that I had said how beautiful they were and remembered the story Shawn had told me about Roxanne admiring a vase and being given it, and then feeling regret. I said no, but the woman insisted. I thanked her and told her I would always appreciate and treasure it.

Shawn and I got on the bus. It was a scenic two-hour ride to Kikonai Station. Then we took the slow local train to Hakodate. We mostly saw the coast. When we arrived in Hakodate, we walked about twenty minutes to our hotel, La Jolie Motomachi. Shawn got mad because he had carried my bag part of the way and, as usual, didn’t seem to notice what I needed. I told him I wanted him to pay more attention and not walk ahead and ignore me. When we got to the hotel, we dropped our bags and exchanged a few words. Then I left because I didn’t want to deal with his silent resentment or be ignored. I wondered how he could say he wanted to spend time with me when he acted like I didn’t exist.

Later that night, I asked if there was a reason he was acting that way, and he said not that he knew of. I felt tired of being resented. It felt like I couldn’t win. Feeling frustrated, I left the hotel and started walking up the hill toward the ropeway. I came across a number of churches: Russian Orthodox, Protestant, and others. One altar was from Tyrol. I was craving a cappuccino, so I stopped at Quarter Café, even though it was almost 3 p.m. Some school kids asked me to take their photo.

The Russian Orthodox Church was charging ¥200 to enter. I poked my head in and took a photo, then left without payment. I walked through the quaint neighborhood and came upon a large community building built by a merchant after a major fire. There seemed to be a lot of charity work in Hakodate. I wish there were still philanthropists in the US. We have become impoverished in the hands of greedy billionaires. In the park below, there were tributes to four men who had been instrumental in rebuilding the town’s economy, especially the fisheries.

Nearby, I saw a statue of a right whale built by a whaler who had killed 1,200 whales and regretted it. It was a memorial to the whales he had killed. I was struck by the sentiment. To have blood on one’s hands and regret it. Must be how soldiers feel.

I continued walking, ending up a few miles away at the foreign cemetery just outside of the city. Below it looked like a shanty town—mostly poor people and fishermen, based on all the fishing nets I saw. There were large container ships visible at sunset.

On the way there, I had passed several temples, including ones with memorials honoring different Japanese people and victims of the U.S. aerial bombardment in 1945, which destroyed over 90 ships, more than 350 homes, and killed over 1,000 people. I felt sad about the U.S. role in it. Some things don’t change. There was also a memorial to a baseball player from the early 1900s and to samurai who died in the Boshin War and other more recent conflicts.

I got back around seven. We tried two izakaya, but both were full. Shawn was angry. I found a third one, Horai Azumaya, and it was pretty good. We had a good selection of fish, some salads, and tofu. We went back to the hotel and tried some Hokkaido ice cream. The receptionist gave us a map and suggestions, including the Ainu Museum and the fort across the bay.

May 10. I didn’t sleep. The cappuccino at 3 p.m. affected me, and the sweet tea at night didn’t help either. I was still angry at Shawn and spoke to him in the morning about his resentment. I told him it wasn’t clear that he even wanted to travel with me since I mostly felt resentment from him. It was a civil conversation.

He had found a place called DIVA & RAM COFFEE. We went separately to check it out. It was great cappuccino and opened early. The owner had only been open a few months. I was happy and ordered a piece of marble cake, which I didn’t like. We sat together for a while, and then I headed down to the morning market to look at the fish.

But first, I had to stop at the train station bathroom because I suddenly had to go urgently. I barely made it. Then I went back to the market and looked at the fish. I told Shawn about the uni and some other fish I saw—seared eel, among others. I bought some wood carvings from a man who might have been Ainu. He carved my name into the back of an owl.

Then I went to a store I’d seen earlier that had other wooden figures and bought a few more. I went to the brick warehouses, looked through the teddy bear museum, and tried to find the adjacent museum but couldn’t. I read about the man who established the brick warehouses and was struck by how much people in Japan give back. One person learns something and then becomes a generous donor, and so on. I bought a Totoro stuffed animal in honor of Miyazaki.

I went to the Museum of Northern Peoples after stopping at a couple of buildings along the way. I spent about two hours there, then visited the British Consulate and the old community hall, both of which were beautifully built. I was already carrying a lot from earlier, so I went back to the hotel around six. When I walked in, Shawn asked what I was doing there. I dropped off a few things and then went for a walk to Hakodate Park.

At the park, I learned about the city museum and Meiji-era buildings that had served as museums and libraries. It was a nice park to walk around in at dusk. Then I looked for a place to eat. The first place didn’t serve fish. The second was closed for a private party. The third had an expensive fixed menu. I ended up going back to the same izakaya from the night before. I ordered sashimi, cooked fish, rice, salad, and squid innards. Shawn ate a little while I ate most of it.

Afterward, I headed back to the hotel, and hung out in the lobby working on my blog. There I met Yoko, a sweet woman from Tokyo who was there with her mother to mark the third anniversary of her father’s passing. She asked about my trip and we talked briefly. She asked if they were too loud, and I laughed and said I had earplugs. Her mom was rather loud, but she’s 95 and probably doesn’t hear well. We became friends on Instagram.