Our steamboat sounded its whistle and slowed to a stop, and a baggage lighter set out rowing from the shore to meet us. The ferryman was stark naked, except for a red loincloth. We must have put the civilized world behind us. But then again, who could wear clothing in this kind of heat? The water glistened so brightly under the intense sun that gazing too long could blind one. The ship's officer informed me that this was my destination. From the looks of the place, it was a fishing village no bigger than Ōmori. I thought this must be someone's idea of a joke, but this was indeed the place, and I had no choice but to disembark. I jumped quickly down into the lighter, and five or six others followed. Four large boxes were also loaded, and our naked man in the red loincloth rowed us back to shore. I was first again to jump out when we landed, and I immediately grabbed an urchin boy who was standing on the beach and asked where the middle school was. He looked at me blankly and told me he didn't know. Obviously a dull-witted bumpkin. How could anyone not know where the middle school was when the whole town was no bigger than a postage stamp? At this point a man wearing an odd style of kimono approached and told me come with him. I followed, and he led me to an inn called Minatoya. A group of dubious-looking maids called out for me to enter, so I stopped where I was and demanded directions to the middle school. They told me it was five miles off by train. After learning this I decided I should keep moving. I snatched my bags back from the man in the odd kimono and resolutely walked away. The folks in the inn watched me go, regarding me like some kind of rare bird.