Once the railway line took passengers all the way to the island of Hokkaido. Then they built the Shinkansen and stopped the passenger trains through the Seikan Tunnel beneath the Tsugaru Strait. Then floods washed away the inland part of the railway, beyond where it still carries freight to the northern island.
Now the passenger trains go as far as Kanita. They are infrequent and I missed the opportunity to catch an earlier one because I woke up tired. To the left, the elevated Shinkansen lines can be seen in the distance across the rice fields.
It is only towards the end that our vicinity to the ocean is properly revealed, as we hug the coast. Across the bay area, the mountains of the Shimokita Peninsula, yesterday’s exploration.
The terminus at Kanita is surprisingly attended with a ticket office. There is a rest house nearby and a small local grocery store and eatery. Most of the goods there are fresh or preserved and unlikely to make it through quarantine.
A half hour wait and then the train returns to Aomori. A pointless trip made even more so by the realisation that I have done it before, prior to the Shinkansen.
Next is Hirosaki. I have just enough time to wolf down a bowl of milk curry ramen from a restaurant under the station. It is my first hot lunch in Japan on this trip.
The train goes through rice paddies and apple orchards. Volcanic Mount Iwaki makes a magnificent backdrop, the remnants of snow on its peak, which becomes covered by cloud. A storm warning was sent out for the area, though I saw no rain.
I have a fondness for apple flavoured Hirosaki and have visited the city at least three times before. There was to have been a fourth attempt in January, but heavy snows defeated it. The mission is to ride the private Konan Railway.
The Konan Railway has two lines. The first, the Konan Line to Kuroishi leaves from the same Hirosaki Station as JR services. I purchased a 1-Day Ticket and wait for the next service.
An ex-Tokyu 7100 series pulls up at the platform and passengers board. This is an old-fashioned electric multiple units with a design dating back to the 1960s. The train rattles and bumps, clacking along on the unwelded rails.
The first stop is a sports stadium, track-suited commuters joining the train after a sports session.
This is not a suburban service for a city, instead it transports students and other commuters from surrounding towns and villages, passing through farmland, including Tamboato Station for the famous Tambo rice paddy art viewing.
The stretch that captures my imagination is a long sloped embankment running through rice paddies, focusing the attention on the train itself, a suburbanite on a farm.
The terminus of Kuroishi is already crowded with school students, probably off to cram school rather than home. Opposite is a patisserie shop Okashi no Okamura, full of delicious looking items that look unlikely to survive a ride.
I ignore the no photography signs at the end of the train on the ride home. I figure they are there to stop photographers from blocking people leaving the front of the train during one-man operation. I am at the rear. At one town we pass a dramatic graffiti style artwork with the word “Angly” [sic] and a link to a Geocities website. I wonder how long it has been there.
Many students leave the train before Hirosaki, others join it until that final stop. The train arrives at Hirosaki and everyone gets out.
There is now a long walk to the other Konan Railway line, the one to Owani. The financial upkeep, shrinking population and difficulty of finding drivers has led to a decision to close the line in March 2028.
Even in central Hirosaki the scars of the changing demographics are obvious. Mostly empty stores and restaurants, even decaying buildings, between the odd trendy little boutique or antique shop.
Chuohirosaki Station is about twenty minutes walk from Hirosaki, past an old church with an explosion of roses outside. The exterior has a very retro appearance, inside even more so. There is a through path to the Hirosaki Museum of Modern Art.
Quite a crowd gathers. It is the end of the working and school day and people are heading home.
An old two car electric set, ex-Tokyu 7000, pulls up and disgorges its many passengers. Eventually we are let on board, walking past the giant kokushi dolls lined up along the platform.
We rock through urban Hirosaki, the silhouette of Mount Iwaki at our rear, then out into the countryside past apple orchards, past the ubiquitous rice paddies and mountains.
The station at Owani Onsen is unmanned. Perhaps not at all times of day: They seem to have paraphernalia for sale on display. One reason this line can close is that its destination of Owani is already served by JR, the two stations connected by a rusting overpass.
I have about an hour to wait before my train back from JR Owani to Aomori. Unfortunately, the 6pm arrival has coincided with the nightly closure of the footbath outside the JR Owani Station entrance. I had packed a towel for it. The only other thing to do in the immediate vicinity is a large onsen complex down the road. Their restaurant and local produce shop is already closed, I can have a hot bath back at the hotel with less fuss.
Crossing on to the empty platforms I take photos of the old black snow plow that looks like it dates back to the steam era, and of the Konan service returning to Hirosaki, the dusk sun and mountains as a back drop.
The JR Owani Station waiting room has an ancient pink dial phone for calling local taxis. I am not bored sitting and waiting, but I am very tired.
A JR electric set returns us to Hirosaki as the light fades to darkness. Once night falls there is little to see on this route. The cabin is full of students, but more leave at Hirosaki.
Arriving after 8pm when most of the shops are closed. I have a dinner of overpriced conveyor belt sushi just before last orders. Again, same as the night before.
I had thought to look for another t-shirt, save needing to wash clothes and a late night. No chance now, if they even have my size. I wash.
A last free bowl of ramen, a hot bath, thoughts turning to home and work. Another sleep at midnight.