Tagawa, Fukuoka Prefecture: A Trip Down A Scummy Rabbit Hole

The Greek historian Diogenes Laertius tells us that Socrates once said "I know nothing except the fact of my ignorance". My own ignorance recently stared back at me when I discovered a fourth train line running through (a small bit of) Oita Prefecture where I previously thought the Nippo, Kyudai and Hohi were the only three. Not surprisingly most Japanese folks I tell about this line also express ignorance of it, but that's a running theme around here. Yes, that was a bit of a dig at my townsfolk, many of who oftentimes don't know a place exists unless it comes announced by a glossy pamphlet or bikini-sporting TV announcer.

The line is called the Hita Hikosan Line and it runs from tiny, practically nonexistant Yoake Station on Hita's Fukuoka Prefectural border north for a few stops before leaving Oita through steep mountains and heading on to Kokura. To actually get to Kokura though, one has to transfer at Tagawa Station and that ended up being Maia and my limit as we explored this strange old mystery line. It's great to have a travel companion now to share the highs, and in this case lows, of exploring our fair Kyushu--kinda makes me feel like Dr. Who.


At what point do these signs get replaced? I guess it is technically still standing and not rusted through, but some kids are going to come along and have a lead paint smorgasbord on that thing.

The train to these parts comes only once every hour or so and meanders through some lovely valleys and mountain farming communities as it winds its way north. Just to the side of one station well into Fukuoka we spotted a michi no eki with what looked like a small amusement park at it. Sadly, an adventure for another day. As Tagawa approached the towns began to look progressively sketchier and sketchier--a portent of things to come. I think our realization of the questionable taste and sense of the folks in this part of Kyushu really came to a head when we passed a station bathroom with a tiled mural of Mickey Mouse and Betty Boop holding hands on what looked like a date. I wish one of us had been quicker on the draw with our cameras!

Stepping off the train in Tagawa we encountered the nicest stationmaster either of us had ever met then consulted the local attractions map in front of the exit posts. "Attractions" is a stretch of vocabulary, really. Concrete factory? Coal mine museum? An antique derrick of some kind? I guess the coal mine museum did pique our interests--I do owe Maia a canary (yes, a canary was the wager) as the loser of a bet concerning whether or not the next song on the radio would be another sea shanty, and where else could I find one of those but at a coal mine?--but the place was miles from the station and we were already wondering whether or not Tagawa could hold our attention for even the hour and a half it would take for the train home to come. In the end we decided to walk towards a part of town that translated to "Big Black Town". Big Black Town...


That Brother...what a jerk. Is he still mad at me for that thing with the marmot and the pants and the biting and the betting in Chinatown cellars? Get over it.

Well, Big Black Town delivered little more than street urchins with black hands from playing in mud all day, and they didn't live up the the "big" part as they were rather small. We got to a river and looked over at the concrete factory area or town that was just a skyline of esoteric smokestacks and piping reaching for the sky against the backdrop of the unforgivable blight of mountains sheared away to get at the...whatever the hell it is they use in concrete. I think it was that sight that finally broke us and we just wandered aimlessly through the streets just to kill time before our train back to Hita. One thing we noticed was the high percentage of households with kerosene cans in front of their houses. Naturally we came to the conclusion that the people of Tagawa, out of deep, deep boredom, conceal themselves in front of their houses and douse passerbys with kerosene and light them on fire for amusement and heat on cold Saturday nights. Luckily it was Sunday and warm.


Nobody's doing any gardening/landscaping anymore. Nobody cares.

Tagawa put things into perspective for the both of us--no matter how podunk we may ever think Kusu and Hita, are respectively, they will never be as boring as this utterly forgettable town.

--Matt