I was an hour early for my high speed boat to Naoshima Island. Once it was time for the boat to leave, we were waiting for old American/French people who were running to make the boat.

Perfectly wrapped bento for lunch. Eating it occupied most of my train time and I finished it right before I had to get off the train.

Everything has to make a cute noise. Including the ferry boat when announcing the next stop. 

Why are tourists rude most of the time? I have spotted so many inconsiderate, ignorant people on this island.

Saw mountains of salt as I was approaching Naoshima Island and I left with some salt and a salt ice cream.

Debated going to get a sandwich for lunch tomorrow inside of a train station department store. Tried to find the place for 20 minutes and couldn’t. I don’t know how people find these places in the first place.


Japanese people tend to ask if you prefer the mountains or the sea. I have finally realized my answer to this question—thanks to being on an island in which I experience both simulanteously. I prefer the mountains—the sturdy land of the earth surrounding me on all sides feels comforting to me. I feel protected by beauty and provided with much to explore. The vastness and unpredictable behavior of the flat ocean scares me. I don’t think I could ever live on a small island because while feeling protected by the mountains, that looming ocean is always in site. Life on an island is also such a weird concept to me because it’s so different—resources and services are way more limited than we are accustomed to. I did love that there were no convenient stores on the islands. There were still plenty of vending machines, however.

Naoshima Art Island: what a great concept. An island filled with so many beautiful conceptual pieces to experience. The only part that was strange to me was that it didn’t feel very Japanese, but I don’t think it was supposed to. It felt very universal. Very human.