When scheduling my trip to Ofunato, I asked some friends to help me find a hotel. I wanted privacy. I wanted to be alone. I was willing to pay to get this.
Then came the answer. There were no rooms available anywhere in Ofunato. How is this possible? I have no way of explaining this phenomenon. I don't understand this but I'm also faced with the realization I have to find a place to stay. I contact the volunteer organization I worked with previously and asked for a spot on the floor. They agreed. Then comes another realization. I have no sleeping bag, no mat to sleep on and, of course, I forget my pajamas in Tokyo so I now have to decide whether I'll sleep in my clothes on the floor, alongside other volunteers (some of whom I know, others whom I don't) or come up with Plan B.
There's always another way, albeit this time my thinking-outside-the-box ability failed me. The suggestion came in the form of a carefully worded question from a friend: "Would you be willing to stay in a love hotel?"
A love hotel, for those of you who don't know, is, let's just say, a place where couples go to get some "privacy" which, of course is code for a hidden spot to have an affair, or a place for a quickie. In other words, people don't stay in a love hotel alone. Rooms are rented by the hour, for several hours, or by the night and different rates apply for differing lengths of stay.
I ponder this suggestion. I laugh. I can sleep on the floor in my clothes or I can sleep in a bed in a room reserved for sex. Swallowing my pride and definitely recognizing the humor in what I'm about to do, I find my way to a love hotel, and stay the night. By myself. Only me. I watch television, looking around at the room, and laugh at the absurdity of it all.
I wanted unique experiences? I'm certainly getting them.
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