Play@YSDC

Your taxi journey from the tavern to the central railway station is uneventful.
The interior of Mito is less industrialized than the ports, but you see signs of new construction in several places. The buildings of the city are small and spaced very close together. Strange scents and sights are everywhere you turn. The people on the streets all seem somehow very alien and distant from you. Many stare at you, and you feel more than a little hostility in their gazes. The streets are narrow, the traffic mostly uncontrolled and it seems that urban development is turning the city into some hybrid of the western ideal and its resistant Japanese counterpart.

It is a nine hour journey to the last stop on the Joban railway. And from there a four hour bus ride to Nashau itself. Both the train and the bus are cramped and the passengers universally unfriendly they make no effort to engage in conversation. Even Paul with his knowledge of Japanese is unable to strike up any conversation. On top of everything it stated to drizzle with rain. A typical Autumn rain that keeps everything constantly wet. It is in all a thouroughly horrible journey not the kind of exotic Asaian trip the brochures would have you believe.
Luckily by the time you arrive in the village it has stopped raining and the night has turned warm and the sun has come out.

You step off the bus, look up and your heart leaps: there in the distance is the iconic Mt. Fuji, somehow more majestic and powerful than the pictures you have seen. It looks down on the whole valley. At its base you see a wide forest, so green and regular that its tree line reminds you of a carpet.
Before you stands Naushua village. Unlike much of the country that you have seen, Naushua seems to belong to the past. The architecture seems quaint and somehow sinister to your eye. The town is smallish and you see very few automobiles or “modern” buildings.

"Let's see if there's an inn or something," says Tony. "Not only do we need a place to stay, but it's also possible that Veronica has been there."

Paul walking behind Tony asks "So why do you thinkt the govenrment would be interested in us coming here? Are you sure no one else new that you were looking for Veronica?"

"Maybe they're interested in all foreign visitors, like she said," says Tony. "I don't know who else knows we're looking for Veronica, but she could have attracted attention during the time since she arrived."

Ted looks around the village. "Do they even know what a hotel is here? To be honest I don't care who knows we are looking for her, as long as we find her."

The village is everything you imagine a Japanese village to look like, cherry trees abound and pretty wooden buildings are spread about in a random pattern, It is totally unlike anything you have experienced back home.
There are various buildings with signs, in Japanese of course, that look like hotels, and eating houses and Paul quite happily translates.
Wherever you go you are met with a mixture of curiosity and downright hostility. None of the hotels seem to have vacancies, and the restaurants, despite being almost empty, have no tables available. And whoever you show the photo to seems to have no knowledge of Veronica.
Everywhere you go you are met by a shaking head, a pointing finger towards a building on the forest edge of the village, and a cry of “Naushua Ryokan”

Paul looks around the town taking in the signage for anything useful.

Priest,so what does Naushua Ryokan mean?

Professor Krugman: "What a curious place! “Naushua Ryokan” they seem to be saying. Any idea what it means?

"And they were saying I was rude?" Ted said

"Paul might know," says Tony. "All I can figure out is that they mean that building over there. I guess we'd better go there."

The words "Naushau Ryokan" mean nothing to Paul. But even though the locals appear to speak a slightly different dialect to that spoken by Paul, this can be seen by the way they grimace, shake their heads, and misunderstand frequently) it is obvious that this 'Nashau Ryokan' is a tall three story building set at the edge of the village where the forest begins.

Naushau Ryokan
This is a three-story building with lacquered red doors. The place seems a bit run down, and the dusty yard is full of weeds. While some of the village has electricity, this street does not. Nevertheless, an electric sign in English, advertising a popular brand of cola, hangs inert in the front window

Ted Nelson,

"Well a cool soda sounds good right now," and he heads towards the Naushau Ryokan.

Bridget looks the slightly delapidated building over with no small trace of skepticism. She stands slightly apart from the rest of the group and tries to take in any relevant details.
"What is this place I wonder?" she asks as she approaches the front entrance, "Maybe some sort of hostel for foreign tourists? But in such a remote village?"

Paul speaks up "I have never heard those words before in Japanse so I do not know what they mean. I am not familiar with any type of 'special' place for housing foriegn nationals in any of the passages that I have booked to Japan before."

Professor Krugman: "It looks a little dilapidated, and any accommodation will probably be insanitary. But, 'when in Rome...'"

"Strange to see a sign in English all the way out here," says Tony. "I'd have thought Veronica was the first American to come here in years. Tourists don't usually come here."

Bridget Barrett (jb),There is nothing to be seen that marks this building out from any of the others you have seen in the village.

Opening the red painted front door, an action that makes the sign in both Japanese and English advertising ‘vacancies’, dance like a wild thing on its chain, you are immediately struck by the décor, a kind of mix and match Japanese and American.
From the ceiling, so low as to almost strike your heads as you pass, hang lanterns shaded by rice paper shades that depict simple Japanese agricultural scenes.
Once through the door you find a small lobby area with a small counter that seems to be both bar and service counter.

Swinging on a chain above the counter is a handwritten sign in both English and Japanese: “Luggage left over 90 days becomes property of the management, no exceptions”.
To the left of this ‘bar’ is a rounded doorway hung with a bead curtain. Beyond it you can see a dining room, within there are six tables hung with white cloths, and a pair of swinging doors, partially ajar, that lead to a shadowed staircase.
Standing behind the counter is a Caucasian man wearing a decidedly American jersey. He smiles as you enter, “Welcome to the Naushau Ryokan, an oasis of normality in an otherwise non-normal society” Before you have a chance to speak he produces several shot glasses and a bottle of bourbon, “Whisky? Or would you prefer some of the local rice wine” the way he spits ‘local’ shows his attitude toward the Japanese people.

Ted Nelson
.
"Now this is hospitality, whiskey is just fine thank you." Ted finally feels comfortable for the first time since stepping onto that boat.

Bridget politely waves off the offer of spirits and examines her surroundings curiously before offering their host an inquisitive look.

"Bridget Barrett." she says by way of introduction, "Is this your hote...restaur...err...establishment?"

"Tony Esposito," says Tony with a grin, offering his hand for a shake. "Thanks, I'll take you up on that whiskey! I've already tried saki."