On December 26, 2004, under the careful planning of Mao Danqing, a writer living in Japan, and Mr. Eiji Takada, director of the Economic Exchange Office of Sapporo, the capital of Hokkaido, in Beijing, I followed the Chinese writers and reporters' troupe and embarked on a long-awaited trip. Hokkaido land. The journey is 12 days and the journey is 3000 miles. During this period, I have seen countless wonders and eaten many delicious foods. I have experienced unique sensations such as the "open air bath", and have seen magical creatures such as "curione". These are all shown in the beautiful essays and photos of the journalists who have compiled them in this book. But in relation to the style of this book, there must be an article by me. I had no choice but to write in a perfunctory form and fill in what the gentlemen and ladies did not write.

​​ I secretly think that the world's tourist destination, attracting tourists, in addition to beautiful food, there are beauties. The beauty here does not only refer to beautiful women, but also refers to the beautiful appearance of people. What can comfort the hearts of travelers for a long time is the simplicity, kindness, dedication and many other virtues displayed by the local people. ​​ Organizing your thoughts is like flipping through photos stored in a digital camera. The first one to appear is Ishikawa Peck in Odori Park in Sapporo City. This is a dead poet, and I took a picture of him with a bronze statue. Because of his haiku "The smell of roasted corn fills the streets on an autumn night," I feel that he has an affinity for me. The quiet and dark autumn night, the corn stove on the street corner, the bright lights, the lingering smoke, the fragrant smell, the lonely night walker and the lonely corn roaster are all frozen in simple verses , In the imagination, it can be restored immediately, just like the magical green coccus, even if it is dried for a hundred years, it can be resurrected when it is soaked in water. Because of poetry, he actually gained eternal life. ​​

Then there is the female college student named Xiao Qian Xingzi from the Da Cang Mountain Ski Resort, wearing a red ski suit, long eyelashes covered with mascara are covered with white frost flowers, and her red face is like red plums in the snow. Filled with a healthy and upward spirit. I was talking to her, the camera was filming in the back, and the reporters circled around to take pictures. She's a little shy, but she's a good girl. She said that she is a second-year student at Hokkaido University, majoring in physics. She came here to ski, not because of fame, but because of interest, because she wanted to take risks, and to exercise her courage. We saw her vigorous silhouette flying down the mountain and down the mountain. I asked her if she felt like an eagle soaring at the moment of volleying. She smiled but didn't answer. ​​ The next person who appeared was Ikuko Takada, the owner of the smiling Chlorella teahouse, a frail middle-aged woman. Her tea house is a narrow scene with a circle of tables surrounding the workbench. The roof is black and shiny as if painted with glaze due to years of smoky fire. Such a small place squeezed 18 of us. Surrounded by her, watching her operate, waiting for her to share the food for us. She is the proprietress, the chef, and the host. The scene at the time reminded me of a mother and her child sitting around a table, and also of a bird's nest with a bird with its neck stretched out, waiting for the mother bird to come and feed. This association does not match our identity and age, it seems a bit hypocritical, but this association, even today, still moves me. The industriousness and humility of Japanese women, and the sincere enthusiasm and gratitude of Japanese businessmen to their customers, are all unforgettable to me. That night, we tasted a lot of delicious food that can be admired. The delicious food will be forgotten in the end, but the tired smiling face of the proprietress shrouded in smoke will be remembered for a lifetime. ​​

Mr. Isamu Ishida, a horse breeder at the Kentucky Ranch in the Hidaka area, seemed to be standing in front of me at this moment. Tall and burly body, the unique heroic expression of those who can tame fierce horses. It was cold and windy, and the snow field was vast, and purebred British horses were galloping on the racecourse. This is a man who understands the horse language and an ambitious entrepreneur. He also has a horse farm in Tongzhou District, Beijing, and plans to build several more horse farms in the northwest region of China. He believes that in the near future, there will be many places in mainland China that will require a horse as elegant as a swan. In his spring-warm seaside villa, we drank hot coffee and talked horses with him. He is familiar with all kinds of famous horses in the world and knows the horse farms all over China like the back of the hand. This is a person who really understands horses and loves horses. Even many of his expressions are similar to horses. He gave us a recipe for horses: oatmeal, alfalfa, sunflower seeds, honey, garlic, miso... What a good meal, these happy horses. From his house, we climbed to the ranch's lookout and saw a few riders showering a few horses that had just been exercised. Behind his house, the grey waves of the Pacific crashed against the reef with a languid roar. ​​ Next to the horse breeders is Kanichi Sakuma, a cattle breeder at the grass flute farm in Akan Town. He was wearing high non-slip rubber shoes, thin overalls, a purple face and neck, thick fingers, cracked skin, and his body exuded the smell of forage mixed with cow dung. We were wearing heavy clothes and we were shivering, but he was calm and didn't seem to feel the cold. He took us to see the cows, the feedlot, the milking workshop and the milk storage tanks. This is a simple person, which reminds me of the big brothers and uncles in my hometown. This is a useful man for society, he provides milk to the people. It is said that the average height of children in Japan has increased by two centimeters in the past three decades because of the government's promotion of milk for children. In fact, this person may not be older than me; in fact, if I hadn't left my hometown as a soldier and started writing literature, I might have been a professional cattle-raising household in my hometown. The masses need more people who can provide them with milk. As for novelists, one more or one less is irrelevant. The cattle-raiser Sakuma Kanichi and his cattle evoked my deep affection for the land and cattle. In fact, I am still a farmer at heart. ​​ Beneath the sizzling, scorching, scorching sulphurous mountain, there is an old couple selling sulphur eggs. In the air vent, a bonfire was burning, and a small tent was set up. Dressed in tattered and dirty clothes, with hands and faces covered in dirt, there, calmly waited for tourists to buy their eggs cooked by the sulphur-vapor vents. Difficult environment, heavy and lonely work, meager profits, they have worked for decades. The old couple who depend on each other have formed part of the scenery of Sulphur Mountain. Many people buy their eggs, not necessarily because they really want to eat them, but as a ritual. Such people are the real lower class people. Life is hard, but there is not much misery on their faces, but a kind of blissful peace. The calmness touched me deeply. If everyone wants to stand out, want to be vigorous, and don't want to do ordinary work, then the world will not be peaceful. ​​ ​​ The person older than the old couple who sold the sulphur eggs was the 88-year-old Mr. Seiji Wada, an old hunter from Tobetsu Town. He had been lingering in the hospital bed for many days, and when he heard that I was coming to visit, he deliberately sat up. In fact, he did not sit up for me, but for my extraordinary fellow Liu Lianren, who had lived as a savage in Hokkaido for thirteen years. According to his family, his memory has seriously deteriorated, but when he mentioned the matter of discovering and participating in the rescue of Liu Lianren more than 40 years ago, his dim eyes suddenly glowed, his memory was activated, and his vague articulation became clear. . This is an ordinary-looking little man. If he hadn't stumbled upon the cave where Liu Lianren lives, it would be difficult for Chinese people to know his name. But now, his name is tightly bound to Liu Lianren's, and he's almost a household name in my hometown. War is like a giant wave fiddling with two grains of sand, making these two irrelevant people collide together and become a legend. Tobetsu built a monument and sculpture for Liu Lianren, and established a committee to preach Liu Lianren's deeds. Many enthusiastic people are doing these tasks voluntarily. The monuments and sculptures are all made of black stone. Although they are not tall, they look solemn and heavy against the backdrop of the white snow. When the car was about to leave, the old man looked at us with his face on the window glass. I got out of the car and walked over, shouting through the glass: Sayinara, Sayinara... That's what I said, but I knew that I would never see this old man again. ​​ As soon as we got on the bus, the staff of the Sapporo City Tourism and Culture Bureau brought Miss Jiho, who would take the trouble to talk to us about the itinerary, food and daily life, and local anecdotes. A few times, we were tired of her explanations because we were too tired. I even called her a "talker", but I soon regretted it. Miss Yindi accompanied us for 12 days, worrying about everything, getting up early and going to bed late every day, very hard. On the day we went to the ski resort, she actually got up early and went up the mountain to explore the road for us. A little woman, so dedicated and able to endure hardships so much, is really admirable. At the Noboribetsu banquet, Miss Yindi's task was about to be completed, and she finally relaxed, drank an extra beer, her face flushed, and she laughed and laughed, showing her true daughter's true colors. ​​ The people who came in droves were Mr. Takeshi Arai, the head of the Tourism and Culture Bureau of Sapporo City, Mr. Shinhiko Asamura, the head of the Sapporo City Tourism and Culture Bureau, and the two drivers who drove for us, as well as Miss Misa, who looked like a civet cat. , Miss Tokai Lin, who is good at singing and dancing, and Mr. Kiichiro Kiuya, who rescued Liu Lianren in those years, and the mayor of Izutei Toshihiko and the villagers of Tobetsu, who wrote the inscription for Liu Lianren's survival monument, and Xu Many Hokkaido people who have served us, their smiling faces, their enthusiasm, and the natural scenery of Hokkaido are integrated into our minds. We met most of them by chance, and most of them will rarely see each other again in this life, but the impression they left on us and our gratitude to them will accompany us for a lifetime.

On December 26, 2004, under the careful planning of Mao Danqing, a writer living in Japan, and Mr. Eiji Takada, director of the Economic Exchange Office of Sapporo, the capital of Hokkaido, in Beijing, I followed the Chinese writers and reporters' troupe and embarked on a long-awaited trip. Hokkaido land. The journey is 12 days and the journey is 3000 miles. During this period, I have seen countless wonders and eaten many delicious foods. I have experienced unique sensations such as the "open air bath", and have seen magical creatures such as "curione". These are all shown in the beautiful essays and photos of the journalists who have compiled them in this book. But in relation to the style of this book, there must be an article by me. I had no choice but to write in a perfunctory form and fill in what the gentlemen and ladies did not write.

​​ I secretly think that the world's tourist destination, attracting tourists, in addition to beautiful food, there are beauties. The beauty here does not only refer to beautiful women, but also refers to the beautiful appearance of people. What can comfort the hearts of travelers for a long time is the simplicity, kindness, dedication and many other virtues displayed by the local people. ​​ Organizing your thoughts is like flipping through photos stored in a digital camera. The first one to appear is Ishikawa Peck in Odori Park in Sapporo City. This is a dead poet, and I took a picture of him with a bronze statue. Because of his haiku "The smell of roasted corn fills the streets on an autumn night," I feel that he has an affinity for me. The quiet and dark autumn night, the corn stove on the street corner, the bright lights, the lingering smoke, the fragrant smell, the lonely night walker and the lonely corn roaster are all frozen in simple verses , In the imagination, it can be restored immediately, just like the magical green coccus, even if it is dried for a hundred years, it can be resurrected when it is soaked in water. Because of poetry, he actually gained eternal life. ​​

Then there is the female college student named Xiao Qian Xingzi from the Da Cang Mountain Ski Resort, wearing a red ski suit, long eyelashes covered with mascara are covered with white frost flowers, and her red face is like red plums in the snow. Filled with a healthy and upward spirit. I was talking to her, the camera was filming in the back, and the reporters circled around to take pictures. She's a little shy, but she's a good girl. She said that she is a second-year student at Hokkaido University, majoring in physics. She came here to ski, not because of fame, but because of interest, because she wanted to take risks, and to exercise her courage. We saw her vigorous silhouette flying down the mountain and down the mountain. I asked her if she felt like an eagle soaring at the moment of volleying. She smiled but didn't answer. ​​ The next person who appeared was Ikuko Takada, the owner of the smiling Chlorella teahouse, a frail middle-aged woman. Her tea house is a narrow scene with a circle of tables surrounding the workbench. The roof is black and shiny as if painted with glaze due to years of smoky fire. Such a small place squeezed 18 of us. Surrounded by her, watching her operate, waiting for her to share the food for us. She is the proprietress, the chef, and the host. The scene at the time reminded me of a mother and her child sitting around a table, and also of a bird's nest with a bird with its neck stretched out, waiting for the mother bird to come and feed. This association does not match our identity and age, it seems a bit hypocritical, but this association, even today, still moves me. The industriousness and humility of Japanese women, and the sincere enthusiasm and gratitude of Japanese businessmen to their customers, are all unforgettable to me. That night, we tasted a lot of delicious food that can be admired. The delicious food will be forgotten in the end, but the tired smiling face of the proprietress shrouded in smoke will be remembered for a lifetime. ​​

Mr. Isamu Ishida, a horse breeder at the Kentucky Ranch in the Hidaka area, seemed to be standing in front of me at this moment. Tall and burly body, the unique heroic expression of those who can tame fierce horses. It was cold and windy, and the snow field was vast, and purebred British horses were galloping on the racecourse. This is a man who understands the horse language and an ambitious entrepreneur. He also has a horse farm in Tongzhou District, Beijing, and plans to build several more horse farms in the northwest region of China. He believes that in the near future, there will be many places in mainland China that will require a horse as elegant as a swan. In his spring-warm seaside villa, we drank hot coffee and talked horses with him. He is familiar with all kinds of famous horses in the world and knows the horse farms all over China like the back of the hand. This is a person who really understands horses and loves horses. Even many of his expressions are similar to horses. He gave us a recipe for horses: oatmeal, alfalfa, sunflower seeds, honey, garlic, miso... What a good meal, these happy horses. From his house, we climbed to the ranch's lookout and saw a few riders showering a few horses that had just been exercised. Behind his house, the grey waves of the Pacific crashed against the reef with a languid roar. ​​ Next to the horse breeders is Kanichi Sakuma, a cattle breeder at the grass flute farm in Akan Town. He was wearing high non-slip rubber shoes, thin overalls, a purple face and neck, thick fingers, cracked skin, and his body exuded the smell of forage mixed with cow dung. We were wearing heavy clothes and we were shivering, but he was calm and didn't seem to feel the cold. He took us to see the cows, the feedlot, the milking workshop and the milk storage tanks. This is a simple person, which reminds me of the big brothers and uncles in my hometown. This is a useful man for society, he provides milk to the people. It is said that the average height of children in Japan has increased by two centimeters in the past three decades because of the government's promotion of milk for children. In fact, this person may not be older than me; in fact, if I hadn't left my hometown as a soldier and started writing literature, I might have been a professional cattle-raising household in my hometown. The masses need more people who can provide them with milk. As for novelists, one more or one less is irrelevant. The cattle-raiser Sakuma Kanichi and his cattle evoked my deep affection for the land and cattle. In fact, I am still a farmer at heart. ​​ Beneath the sizzling, scorching, scorching sulphurous mountain, there is an old couple selling sulphur eggs. In the air vent, a bonfire was burning, and a small tent was set up. Dressed in tattered and dirty clothes, with hands and faces covered in dirt, there, calmly waited for tourists to buy their eggs cooked by the sulphur-vapor vents. Difficult environment, heavy and lonely work, meager profits, they have worked for decades. The old couple who depend on each other have formed part of the scenery of Sulphur Mountain. Many people buy their eggs, not necessarily because they really want to eat them, but as a ritual. Such people are the real lower class people. Life is hard, but there is not much misery on their faces, but a kind of blissful peace. The calmness touched me deeply. If everyone wants to stand out, want to be vigorous, and don't want to do ordinary work, then the world will not be peaceful. ​​ ​​ The person older than the old couple who sold the sulphur eggs was the 88-year-old Mr. Seiji Wada, an old hunter from Tobetsu Town. He had been lingering in the hospital bed for many days, and when he heard that I was coming to visit, he deliberately sat up. In fact, he did not sit up for me, but for my extraordinary fellow Liu Lianren, who had lived as a savage in Hokkaido for thirteen years. According to his family, his memory has seriously deteriorated, but when he mentioned the matter of discovering and participating in the rescue of Liu Lianren more than 40 years ago, his dim eyes suddenly glowed, his memory was activated, and his vague articulation became clear. . This is an ordinary-looking little man. If he hadn't stumbled upon the cave where Liu Lianren lives, it would be difficult for Chinese people to know his name. But now, his name is tightly bound to Liu Lianren's, and he's almost a household name in my hometown. War is like a giant wave fiddling with two grains of sand, making these two irrelevant people collide together and become a legend. Tobetsu built a monument and sculpture for Liu Lianren, and established a committee to preach Liu Lianren's deeds. Many enthusiastic people are doing these tasks voluntarily. The monuments and sculptures are all made of black stone. Although they are not tall, they look solemn and heavy against the backdrop of the white snow. When the car was about to leave, the old man looked at us with his face on the window glass. I got out of the car and walked over, shouting through the glass: Sayinara, Sayinara... That's what I said, but I knew that I would never see this old man again. ​​ As soon as we got on the bus, the staff of the Sapporo City Tourism and Culture Bureau brought Miss Jiho, who would take the trouble to talk to us about the itinerary, food and daily life, and local anecdotes. A few times, we were tired of her explanations because we were too tired. I even called her a "talker", but I soon regretted it. Miss Yindi accompanied us for 12 days, worrying about everything, getting up early and going to bed late every day, very hard. On the day we went to the ski resort, she actually got up early and went up the mountain to explore the road for us. A little woman, so dedicated and able to endure hardships so much, is really admirable. At the Noboribetsu banquet, Miss Yindi's task was about to be completed, and she finally relaxed, drank an extra beer, her face flushed, and she laughed and laughed, showing her true daughter's true colors. ​​ The people who came in droves were Mr. Takeshi Arai, the head of the Tourism and Culture Bureau of Sapporo City, Mr. Shinhiko Asamura, the head of the Sapporo City Tourism and Culture Bureau, and the two drivers who drove for us, as well as Miss Misa, who looked like a civet cat. , Miss Tokai Lin, who is good at singing and dancing, and Mr. Kiichiro Kiuya, who rescued Liu Lianren in those years, and the mayor of Izutei Toshihiko and the villagers of Tobetsu, who wrote the inscription for Liu Lianren's survival monument, and Xu Many Hokkaido people who have served us, their smiling faces, their enthusiasm, and the natural scenery of Hokkaido are integrated into our minds. We met most of them by chance, and most of them will rarely see each other again in this life, but the impression they left on us and our gratitude to them will accompany us for a lifetime.