In my previous post, I shared how my family came to Japan and how I flew from Osaka to Narita to pick up Riemer — because he was coming too! We had deliberately planned it so Riemer would overlap with my family for a few days, allowing us to go to Disneyland together.

What wasn’t quite planned, though, was the official breakup between Riemer and me. But hey, we’re big, mature adults, so we decided to keep things nice and pleasant. (Whether that worked out, you’ll find out later in this blog… Du-du-duuuu!)

My flight to Narita went smoothly, so I met Riemer there as planned. We took the Narita Express and then the Azusa to Hachioji, where Riemer would be staying. I had arranged for him to stay in the apartment on 10, where Charlotte had stayed earlier. While Charlotte was perfectly fine with the basic apartment that lacked internet (“I have pocket Wi-Fi anyway, and we’re always out and about!”), Riemer wasn’t thrilled. Perhaps it was partly because the space carried some memories, even though I don’t think he’d ever actually been in the apartment after it was finished and furnished. Anyway, first, we headed to Fumiko’s lecture.

When I still lived in the Netherlands, I took Japanese lessons from Fumiko Miura, a Japanese woman living in Rotterdam. Because of my autism, I wanted private lessons —

Riemer moved to his own hotel, something that initially frustrated me (“seriously, I prepare everything for you, offer you a place to stay, and then you’re not happy with it and and and…”). But I immediately understood when I saw his hotel room and the view. I mean, if you can afford it, why not go for comfort? And secretly, I didn’t mind either—it meant I could go back to François’ house myself. After all, there was no longer any reason for me to stay in Hachioji.

I was terrified of making mistakes or saying something weird, especially in front of others. So, I regularly visited Fumiko, who had set up a small classroom in her home.

At one point, Fumiko was interviewed for a magazine that was doing a Japan-themed issue. (Back then, they still thought the Tokyo Olympics would take place in summer 2020… Ahhhh.) After the interview, Fumiko was approached by a publisher asking if she’d like to write a book about her experiences. She told me about it during one of our lessons, and of course, I said, “You should totally do it!” Fumiko had her doubts: “Can I really do that? My Dutch isn’t fluent…” I reassured her that this wouldn’t be a problem: “You’ll have an editor, right? They’ll fix all the mistakes!” Even when our lessons moved online during the pandemic, we often talked about her writing process. About what Dutch readers enjoy reading about themselves, and so on. When the book was published in January 2023, Fumiko handed me the first copy.

(I didn’t read it right away. I was working on my own book about Japan at the time and was worried I might unintentionally borrow ideas. But when I read Polderjapanner after finishing my own book, I laughed so hard: her section on ikigai and mine fit together seamlessly.)

The day Riemer landed, Fumiko gave a lecture at the Dutch embassy in Tokyo. We decided to attend. Hannah, the illustrator of both Fumiko’s book and mine, was there too. It was also a great opportunity to meet everyone from the embassy in person. Who knows what might come of that…

Riemer moved to his own hotel, something that initially frustrated me (“seriously, I prepare everything for you, offer you a place to stay, and then you’re not happy with it and and and…”). But I immediately understood when I saw his hotel room and the view. I mean, if you can afford it, why not go for comfort? And secretly, I didn’t mind either — it meant I could go back to François’ house myself. After all, there was no longer any reason for me to stay in Hachioji.

The next day, it was time for something that had been on my bucket list for ages: a visit to Umihotaru (“sea firefly” in Japanese), the artificial island in the middle of Tokyo Bay that connects the bridge and tunnel of the Aqualine. On the island, you’ll find a parking lot and a complex with several roadside restaurants (and a Starbucks!). There is technically a bus, sometimes, but it’s mainly accessible by car.

I’d had a long-standing plan to visit with Riemer, but François wanted to come too. So, what do you do? You go as a group of three, in a single rental car. It was the first time Riemer and François met — and what an introduction: navigating toll roads to reach a quirky roadside stop in the middle of the sea! But it went well, as I later got feedback from both that the other was “an okay guy.”

From Umihotaru, we could see Disneyland in the distance, where my family was wandering around at that moment. We also took a photo with the tunnel boring machine that had once been used to construct the tunnel and now stands as an art installation on the island.

The next day, Riemer and I went to DisneySea with my family. Thanks to them, we also got to visit Fantasy Springs, the newly opened themed area! This area is so exclusive (since it’s brand new) that you can’t just walk in — you need a paid pass or a reservation for one of the attractions. Reservations can be made through the app, but you either have to be in the park right at opening or wait until an hour before closing, when most people have already left.

We managed to experience all four of the new attractions, and wow, they are amazing!

A day later, we picked up our next rental car and drove to Utsunomiya. Now, it’s not exactly a sparkling destination or anything, but we had mapped out a multi-day route to Niigata, and Utsunomiya was a convenient first stop. (They’ve also recently opened a light rail line, but while train YouTubers have been trying to hype me up about it for months, it’s really just a glorified tram and, honestly, who cares.)

Utsunomiya was a bit of a low point for me. First of all, I was still pretty overstimulated from Disney. Riemer and I had witnessed an incident on the Soaring attraction that kept replaying in my head. Back in my hotel room, I wrote about it to get it out of my system, which helped.

There was something else going on. Weeks earlier, I had applied for a visa extension, something I’d been stressing about a lot. (Was it necessary? I don’t know. But not knowing is the worst.) While we were in Utsunomiya, I got an email from my lawyer saying the extension had been approved. They couldn’t yet tell me for how long, but I needed to send my old residence card as soon as possible to receive the new one.

So that morning, I went to the local post office with my zairyu card taped to a piece of paper to buy a large, registered envelope and have it sent. Afterward, I had breakfast with Riemer at the local Starbucks, still stressing about the visa, the duration, the costs, the incomprehensible rules, and everything else. I noticed Riemer barely reacted, which initially made me try harder. When I finally asked him directly why he seemed so indifferent, he snapped back: Why are you so hyper?!

He explained that now we were no longer together, he didn’t want to be as invested in my stories anymore. And while I could understand that, on the other hand… these kinds of stories are things I’d share with friends too — you don’t have to be partners for that. But on the other, other hand… I understood that this was a difficult topic for Riemer and that we were both figuring out a new balance.

I told him it was going to be a pretty miserable trip if we couldn’t talk about anything anymore, but that wasn’t his intention, he said. A bit awkwardly, we continued on our way.

Unfortunately, the first destination on my wishlist turned out to be a disappointment: the Shinkansen roller coaster at Tochinoki Family Land was closed due to the rain. That same rain didn’t stop us from driving along scary (but beautiful!) mountain roads to Kinugawa Onsen. This place is famous for its abundance of abandoned hotels. I’d been there before, but Riemer was eager to see it for himself.

Next stop: Aizuwakamatsu. This was mostly just a stop because it happened to be convenient along the route to Niigata. We stayed at a Toyoko Inn, the familiar, budget-friendly business hotel with beds that are just firm enough for me. (Yes, I have a loyalty card. Only four more nights, and I’ll earn a free bonus stay!)

From Aizuwakamatsu, we drove on to Niigata. I had two things on my list: the Starbucks (for my medal!) and the Hard-Off Eco Stadium! Okay, let me explain the second one: Hard-Off is my favorite thrift store chain, specializing mostly in hardware. The chain originally comes from Niigata, so they also sponsor the local football club. And that makes for some interesting visuals.

On our way to Niigata, we also came across a small train museum in Niitsu. There was a massive double-decker Shinkansen parked there (unfortunately, we weren’t allowed inside).

In Niigata, we stayed at another Toyoko Inn. On day two, our only full day in the city, I (hooray, more overstimulation!) mostly stayed indoors. Riemer spent the day exploring the city, visiting a tall observation tower, and doing the whole touristy thing. I barely made it to the Starbucks across from the hotel, where I stared at my laptop for a bit before heading back to my room without accomplishing much.

Our last accommodation was chosen by Riemer. It was a lodge in the mountains of Gunma — completely in the middle of nowhere, but perfectly located for where we wanted to go.

This lodge was quite a lot for my autistic ass to handle. The bathrooms and toilets were shared, and breakfast was incredibly noisy because all the other guests were also foreigners, and their volume tends to be just a notch louder than that of the average Japanese person. However, the peaceful surroundings made up for a lot. Next to the guesthouse was the only restaurant in the immediate area, a charming little Italian place (with a Japanese lady in the kitchen, of course), where I’m pretty sure the entire guesthouse went to eat. But the food was excellent, so we thought it was absolutely bellissima.

But then! The one and only reason Riemer and I had traveled all the way to this lodge in the mountains of Gunma: Doai, the deepest station in Japan!

Of course, I’d seen it plenty of times online, but nothing compares to walking down those nearly 500 steps yourself, ending up in an icy underground tunnel where a train stops just five times a day.

The station looks run-down, almost abandoned. For a moment, you wonder if you’re even allowed to be there, but then you see all the other tourists and day-trippers — I’d guess there are more visitors coming to see Doai than actual passengers.

Right across from the station, there’s also a little café, and a bit further down the road, a large souvenir shop. Not just for Doai but also for other attractions in the area. Just a few minutes’ drive away (or a little bit longer walk, if your legs aren’t sore enough yet from all those steps), you’ll also find Mt. Tanigawadake. (Wait, is that redundant? Dakealready means “mountain,” after all…?)

We took the lazy route and hopped on the cable car, enjoyed the autumn colors and the view, and then had a massive plate of katsu curry.

The next day, we drove back to Hachioji via the largest Book-Off Super Bazaar in the country (located in Maebashi, Gunma) and a quirky Starbucks in Metsä Village (a park themed around Moomin and Finland).

A few days later, Riemer flew back to the Netherlands. Saying goodbye felt bittersweet, knowing that from now on, things would be different and that he wouldn’t be returning to Japan anytime soon. Even when I visit the Netherlands (like at the end of March next year, whooo!), things will be different — I can’t just stay at his place anymore, and at some point, I’ll have to move and/or sell some of my stuff.

Of course, we’re still friends and talk on the phone almost every weekend. And it’s good this way. But still, it feels strange.