Dating Underwater9. Serenity Now

I woke up early in the morning after sleeping more soundly than I have in a long time. A small inn in the mountains on an island is nothing like my apartment in the middle of Hong Kong. The last time I went out of town was Beijing, and I did not sleep well on that trip at all.

Hisoka was already in Tokyo for his big meeting. The plane that got me to Hiroshima was going back to Hong Kong in the afternoon. If I wanted to leave later or spend another night, I would have to book a commercial flight. I thought about finding a hotel in Hiroshima and spending some time there, but I have not had a real job since September. A free flight home was probably a good idea.

Miyajima was just as deserted in the early morning as it was at night, but far sunnier. The hotel gave me a ride into the village and I wandered around what looked like a ghost town. Itsukushima Shrine was practically resting on the water at high tide the day before. The reflection off the water made the torii look like it was floating. In the early morning low tide, the shrine sat on solid ground. The torii was in mud and tiny puddles.

Having already seen the village, I went in the only direction I could go without a boat. I walked uphill until the street became a path. It only took a few minutes for the village to dissolve into woods. As I walked up a gradual incline, the stream near my path casually ran downhill. The woods were completely deserted, except for a few deer who were neither impressed nor offended by my presence.

The quiet was amazing. The island was asleep. Even the birds were not yet awake. I heard almost none in the hours when they usually make the most noise. The deer were awake, but they make so little noise, they can sneak up on you without warning.

Every time the path crossed one stream or another, there was a small wooden bridge with red railings. The paths went from pavement to dirt to stone steps, but each bridge was built with pride and purpose. The temples and shrines were small enough to blink and miss. I only noticed a few because they had bright red torii out front. Even when the shrines were camouflaged by the woods, the torii stood out.

With no tourists in sight, I felt like I was experiencing the island the way it was meant to be. I was a tourist, but I was not part of a group, making noise, throwing trash on the ground or complaining that my surroundings were not like home. Miyajima is a sacred island, and in the peaceful early morning hours, I could see why. When people wandered onto the island thousands of years before tourist gift shops were invented, they must have thought they were in heaven. I wanted nothing more than to stay there all day, but when the ferries starting arriving, there would be backpackers and selfie sticks. Sooner or later, a Chinese tour group would arrive. I love a lot of things about Chinese culture, but Chinese tour groups are anything but silent and serene. My private holy site could not remain private for long. I also had a plane to catch if I wanted to go home for free.

Getting from Hong Kong to Miyajima would have been difficult without Hisoka, mostly because I did absolutely no research before I left. Getting back was easy. The hotel happily drove me to the Miyajima pier. The ferry to Hiroshima was straightforward. Getting a taxi at the Hiroshima pier was effortless. There were more than enough waiting around. It was a long taxi ride without anyone to talk to, since the driver did not speak English, but I had music.

Checking in at the airport was a little complicated. I was taking a private flight and everything inside the airport was designed for commercial flights. After asking a few people at information booths, with varying degrees of information, I found myself where I needed to be. They were expecting me. Getting on the plane in Hiroshima was just as easy as it had been in Hong Kong, even without a dozen Japanese businessmen.

The flight was empty. I'm pretty sure that every flight I have ever taken out of Hong Kong was fully booked. I can't remember the last time I was on a plane with several empty seats. This was definitely the first time I was the only passenger. I'm sure the service is always first class on a private flight, but when the entire crew only has one passenger, they pay attention to you.

When I asked the purser why they did not simply cancel the flight, she explained that the plane had to go back to Hong Kong. That flight was going to happen whether I was there or not. Had I stayed in Hiroshima and taken a commercial flight back, the private plane would have flown empty. At least the crew could have relaxed. With me there, they had very little to do, but they were all on the clock.

Back at home, I had time to contemplate the strangest first date I have ever had. I want a second date, and I know Hisoka does too, since we have spoken on the phone, but I doubt he has enough free time to date anyone. I cannot go to Tokyo every time I want to see him and he cannot come to Hong Kong just to see me. The private plane is not his personal property. Using it to shuttle us back and forth is not always going to be an option.

And if we do have a second date, it will be hard to top the first one. He would have to take me to Bora Bora or somewhere ridiculously amazing. We will be lucky if he can find the time for dinner and a walk in the park. But whatever happens, we will always have Miyajima.