Ome is, as they say, a ways away. At least from central Tokyo. I rock on a west-bound Chuo Line train from Tokyo Station for about 90 minutes before I get there.
Once I alight, though, the station¡¯s quaint wooden platform buildings make me feel like I¡¯ve traveled backward through time. Butterflies flit by and swallows swoop over the train tracks, backed by mountainous terrain. The air is full of pollen, and there¡¯s a rarity once the train disappears: utter quiet.
Taking the south exit, I pass through a tunnel of retro, hand-painted movie signboards, most of which feature trains: Vittorio de Sica¡¯s ¡°Terminal Station¡± (1953), Pietro Germi¡¯s ¡°Il Ferroviere¡± (¡°The Railroad Man,¡± 1956) and Shinji Murayama¡¯s ¡°Tabiji¡± (¡°The Journey,¡± 1967). In an effort to find out more about these, I ask the stationmaster, and he directs me to a charming little visitor¡¯s center nearby.
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