Nichitsu by Night

I'm still tittering with excitement at what I had a chance to see and do in the last 24 hours. Just like Ashiomachi, the planning for Nichitsu has been a long time coming. Over the last month and a half, it's been a rush to gather an able crew, triangulate the location and arrange for the rental of a car to take us to one of the most desolate places in this part of Japan, and in some way I have this bizarre sense of pride in having accomplished it. Today, I've returned from a place long abandoned, that the country seems to want to have forgotten completely. I've lots to say about Nichitsu, so brace yourself for somewhat of a good read (at least comparatively to my regular posts.)

The Nichitsu Team

 There are some unfamiliar faces here I'd love to introduce before going into the whole adventure itself. The way the whole adventure played out, though, each member brought a little something to the table, so every one played an amazing role in our adventure.

Neal Pak and Nana Takeuchi.

 By the time the planning was starting to come together, Nana Takeuchi was the first person I had invited to the Ghost Town.
 At the time, she was my boss at My Gym. 
 Nana brought into the equation lock-picking, allowing our vehicle easy access through gates so that we could park the car within Nichitsu itself, away from the eyes of any potential security passing by.

Our driver, Lo.

Neal Pak is a Korean guy from Indianapolis, America, who I had met only a week before leaving. His taste for adventure instantly made me want to bring the guy along, and Neal turned out to be the best equipped one of any of us, owning all matters of rope, equipment and foodstuffs that he didn't hesitate to share during the journey.

Of course, we wouldn't have made it far without Jean-Paul Lo, who I have introduced a little while ago. Lo owns an international driving license, making it possible for him to bring us to our destination, which was otherwise unreachable. That aside, Lo stands quite tall and weighs a respectable 190lbs, which came quite handy in him kicking down doors.

Of course, the role I played was that of making sure we met our destination. Nichitsu does not show up on any GPS, nor does it have an address. Therefore I had to intersect different maps and bicycle paths existing on the internet and find an aerial photo of the place via satellite. Once I found Nichitsu, we manually input the coordinates into the GPS and the trick was done.

This town's as good as ours.

Unlike Ashiomachi, Nichitsu had no surveillance. Our adventure was a blur of jumping through windows, kicking down obstructing doors, and scaling walls. Don't be fooled by the flash-illuminated pictures: this place was pitch dark. Actual chances of getting lost were slim, since we could just as well yell to one another from either end of town, but there was always the risk of wild animals. On top of being dark, Nichitsu was also very cold, being located on a mountain. This also meant there was no cellphone signal. The four of us stuck together as a unit.

Armed with no light other than that of the stars above us and our own lamps, we took to the village with an efficient pace, and found it remarkably nonempty. The village was sizable, and, on that first night, we had managed to navigate through several apartment buildings and what seemed to be a town hall.
 A plethora of objects littered the floors, ranging from books to cutlery to game pieces and dolls, and the sheer number of things left behind was remarkable. Televisions were still connected to powerless walls.

Sweeping through the buildings.

What we knew of Nichitsu was the following: like Ashiomachi, its economy ran on mining. Predictably, the hollowing of the mines meant the collapse of the economy for the small town, forcing shops to close and people to evacuate.  Disturbingly enough, however, and this time unlike Ashiomachi, we did not find a consistent date for the collapse of Nichitsu as a town. Calendars on walls contradicted one another - some showing years as early as 1976. Others showed us 1984. Once calendar, found on the floor, showed us 1997, even. But it wasn't until we went into the last apartment building that we found any cause to feel disturbed by this.

The first thing to throw us off was the presence of recently discarded, new-looking shoes at the entrance. Soon, this was followed by the appearance of discarded calendars with dates going all the way through the first decade of the 2000's. Perplexed at the thought that some one might be using Nichitsu as a base, we pressed onwards, finding more and more signs of recent occupation in the crumbling rooms.
 The final room of the building took us by shock.
 New drapery adorned the beds, and fresh looking clothes hung by hooks. The room had clearly been arranged in a neat fashion, and by then we knew for sure: someone had been living in Nichitsu. However, unbeknownst to us whether it was the same resident who was responsible, clear knife marks adorned the walls, and words had been written into the same walls in red. Pornographic cut outs also hung from string contraptions reaching from one side of the room to the other.
 Who, in your opinion, would willingly choose to live secluded from society in such a place?
 We didn't linger too long.

Just outside, we found the perfect place to set up a campfire to drive away the cold. With a little tinkering, we managed to get quite a good one going, and, much to the amusement of the rest of us, Lo was quite efficient at breaking apart whole trees in order to feed the fire.
 Marshmallows were also brought out, courtesy of Nana, and we spent a few hours in the warmth of the flame, sharing a few jokes and stories. When morning came, we caught a little bit of sleep inside the car, before heading back out and exploring the second half of Nichitsu.

And trust me, we didn't even get to the good stuff quite yet!