I spent only four nights on the small and remote island of Rebun, population 3000, seeking quiet solitude. However, the universe had other plans, and threw some of its most amazing people right onto my path. These are the stories of Yuna and Dennis.

My first hike was the cape course along the spectacular Northern coast of Rebun. About halfway through my trail, a car stopped beside me on the road. I asked the two young women who walked out if they were from the island itself, but they explained they’d arrived from further South (Akita and Nara) to work as guides for half a dozen months. Unfortunately today they’d walk South, where I just descended Gorota Cape, and so I continued on to Sukuton Cape alone.

This time of year the sea lions have migrated further North, meaning I have my bento lunch box and seaweed flavoured ice cream without their company. After buying some souvenirs I slowly turn back towards the campsite, about an hour and a half along the hardened coastal road. The air has turned stuffy with the sun’s arrival, when I notice someone standing on the sidewalk waving. I look over my shoulder but see no one there, so point at myself, and see the confirmation from the waving person. Straining my eyes I notice it’s Yuna, the girl from Akita. She insists I get in the car, as it’s getting uncomfortably warm, and this part of the trail offers little to the eye anyway. Without having planned it, they decided to help me home anyway.

The next evening, as explained in my previous post, I attended a dinner of archaeology professors and students. Among the attendees, a Dutch man named Dennis approached me, happy to speak his own language for once. I translated his funny Dutch anecdotes to some of the Japanese guests, who in turn expressed their firm love for the Netherlands to him. As the dinner wound to a close, he introduced me to some of his colleagues, who all agreed to invite me to their karaoke session afterwards.

The next morning Dennis and I hiked to the highest point on the island, Rebun-dake, just shy of five hundred metres above sea level. Besides a short break at the summit, from where the Sea of Japan is visible in all directions, I spent most of the morning asking him hundreds of questions about archaeology, and Dennis in turn explained as clearly and fully as possible everything I wanted to know.

Back at Rebun’s chief settlement of Kafuka, Dennis and I consider our options for lunch. Most of the town has turned to sleep again, but one coffee bar still seems open. Walking in, a happy voice surprised me, exclaiming just my name. By some incredible coincidence Yuna is spending her afternoon off here as well, so we sit down at the table next to hers with our cake and tea, striking up a conversation.

I help Dennis explain the most exciting parts of the excavation, then translate for Yuna as she reveals her plans for the coming months. She’ll travel through Mexico, Guatemala, and Peru on her own for nearly half a year, and we cannot help but feel slightly jealous. In the end the conversation turns to Akita, the dialect, local traditions, festivals, and other oddities. Only because we don’t want to miss the last bus so Dennis and I walk out of the cafe after an hour or two of chatting, though not before Yuna takes a picture of the three of us.

My last morning on Rebun and Dennis guides me around the digsite, explaining the peculiars, how to excavate, identify different layers in the sediment, and even offers me partial credit as he unearths a beautiful stone spearpoint, thousands of years old. I greet him with a sincere goodbye and head to Kafuka, where the ferry will take me away in a little while. Waving, Yuuna appears from her dorm room, excited as I tell her my family and friends will visit in the coming months. She stands on the quay as the ferry rumbles and starts moving. Until I can barely make out her shape any longer, she remains at the shoreline, waving me goodbye.

Yuna, Dennis, I hope to God I get to meet you again someday.