While shuddering at the thought of using one of the
McDonald's coupons in my waist pouch to buy yet another 300 yen teriyaki burger
and Coke combo, I noticed that the bus had started on a gentle climb.
Reflexively, I turned my head to the right and was stunned by what I saw
through my window.
At the point where the dull grey sky met the dull brown
earth, there were deep black gouges in the ground. It looked like a giant had
taken its forefinger and traced crooked lines into the landscape. The gouges,
someone later told me, had been made by magma flows that had burst to the
surface. As the bus continued to roll uphill, I marveled at the way nature
could quickly unleash enough destructive force to scar the surface of the
planet, then just as quickly turn that force off.
The bus hauled itself to the top of the rise, and turned
into a large parking lot containing several buses, a few cars, and a couple of
small buildings. This was a treat: a short rest stop just a few hundred meters
from Mt. Aso itself. As I stepped off of the bus, my nostrils were assailed by
a flatulent, sulphurous stench. The remnants of volcanic belching were wafting
through the air. The smell was sickening, but at the same time strangely
inviting.