Reggie Thomson’s Diary

I took a freezing cold shower first thing. Still, it saves on earth’s resources, and is healthy - except that the stones are cold to walk on. The hotel is almost empty - about a dozen rooms. I’m at the end, with an east window towards the station and a south-facing window. It’s a little bit noisy, but that doesn’t seem to bother me at night so much these days. There are small, red lights in the other rooms. Hmm. I notice that there is sticky tape around the windows, presumably to prevent wind blowing through. It reminds me of the ages I spent trying to remove the vestiges of selotape from my windows after a Korea family had rented my house.

I sat in my room for most of the day, just catching up on my diaries. I only ventured out to get some more provisions. In the evening, I half watched TV while I continued to type. There were several movies in English later on, including Midnight Cowboy. I’ve seen it before, so only watched the start and listened to some of the music.

I was up just after the sun, and went out to take some photos of the Tumuli - burial mounds from the Scilla period - approx AD 57 to AD 1000 or so. I didn’t actually go into Tumuli park - there are plenty of free mounds dotted around the town.

I found some cheaper water - at 1300 won for 2 litres. Bread is more difficult. It isn’t stocked in the convenience stores. At the station, there is a tourist kiosk. The lady gave me a map, and pointed out where the supermarkets are located - just the other side of the train station. There, I found bread at 1850 won for 800g, and luncheon meat at 1300 won for 200g. My food budget is just 3000 won per day. It’s going to be quite a struggle.

I selected my Gyeongju photos and set up the database to include a Korea page. I also began to think about how to separate out the photos onto several CDs. I need to expand the database so that each CD has an entry.

I watched the TV for part of the evening. “Inside Edition” seems to be about a month out of date.

I managed to sleep well. One of the Korean ladies in the compartment offered me a cup of milk first thing. I put some of my originals onto a CD to create more space on my D: drive. Then I went out to take some photos. The morning sunlight was very beautiful.

I disembarked, and went through immigration and customs without difficulty. I had decided that the first thing I would do in any new country would be to pick up some litter, so I headed into town, plastic bag in hand. I should have checked the times of the return ferry, and perhaps booked my tickets. The lady on the information desk gave me a map, and showed me where I could find an HSBC bank - near the Busan Tower.

It was such good weather, and I still had my bread from Japan, that I thought I could survive for at least one day without any money. There was plenty to photograph around the tower. I ate lunch there, and then went down to find the bank. Some people pointed me in the direction of a nearby bank. Inside, I was told that there was no HSBC bank in the vicinity. I would have to take the subway to Busan station. That would be difficult, in the absence of money.

Instead, I headed through the backstreet markets, to Democracy Park. It was also quite deserted. Finally, I headed down to the HSBC bank, just opposite the Shanghai gate. I took out just 100,000 won (10,000 yen). It’s quite handy that the yen-won exchange rate is a factor of ten.

The power points are round, so I need to find an electrical shop to buy an adaptor. The lady in the tourist cubicle didn’t know what an electrical shop was. She suggested a department store. I bought a packet of chocolate digestives to give myself some change. Then, took the subway to Seomyeon.

I was walking towards the department store, when someone asked if he could help. He was with another foreigner, who said “You can help this guy,” and after confirming the way, set off. I said I was going to the department store to buy an adapter. “I live here. I know where you can find one much cheaper.”

He raced ahead, and I mistakenly thought he was being kind. I don’t like going in such a rush, especially since it nearly caused a traffic jam in the narrow streets. I showed him my namecards, saying he could have one - but he replied that he hated Japan. When I asked why, he said it was because of Japan’s occupation of Korea in the last war. “I come from a country that is still occupied and controlled by the English - yet I don’t hate the English,” I replied. The first shop didn’t have the adaptor, but I found one for 300 won in the second. Back at the subway, the gentleman explained that he was “unemployed” and in a hurry. “Give me 1000 won,” he demanded. I was annoyed - annoyed at having believed that he was kind - and told him if he was in a hurry, he could leave. In the end, I handed over 500 won. It seemed such a trivial amount, though more than doubled the price of the adaptor - it would have been much cheaper to go to the department store.

It made me think about why I dislike such behaviour. I dislike the lie that he was unemployed. He was working - in fact, I was his employer, and his business was to pretend to be helpful and demanding payment after doing what he considers work. I dislike having to be suspicious of a nation or within a nation. I dislike having to presume that “helpful” people might demand payment. I want to believe in genuine kindness. As an employer, I would not employ such deceitful people.

I took the subway to the start of the expressway. The bus fare to Gyeongju is only 4000 won or so. I could easily afford it, but I want to hitchhike. When I got to the junction, I wasn’t quite sure where to stand. A car pulled over almost immediately. However, he seemed to suggest that he could take me to the bus station. I sat in his car while he telephoned a friend who could speak English. In the end, I asked him to sign my visitors’ boo k, gave him a namecard, and jumped out.

I waited round the corner, and within a few minutes, a coupl e stopped. They lived in Gyeongju - near Pulguksa temple. They drove me down the expressway, stopping for a coffee in the service area. They spoke broken English, but were understandable. I was dropped at the Gyeongju station.

I wandered round the vicinity, looking for a cheap place to stay. Places with big signs tended to charge from 25,000 won. In the backstreets, the ladies in the hotels just looked annoyed. It was a nuisance to have people coming to bother them when they were full up (or perhaps they didn’t want a foreigner). Eventually, one lady said she had a place for 10,000 but had no shower. She took me round the corner to one of the places listed in the Lonely Planet. It, too, was full. Jeil Yeoinsuk had a room for 10,000 won per night. It is just within my budget (actually, my budget is 10,000 won per day, but I can go a little beyond it for a short time.)

I wandered round the vicinity looking for some drink, and found 1.5 litres of orange juice for 2300 won.

In my room, which just has a TV and a bed, I sorted out some of the photos of Busan.

“Excuse me?” I thought the voice that roused me was a member of staff wanting me to move away. Rather, it was someone offering to take me to the Fukayama service area. From there, it was a pleasant lift to Kodani services. Actually, the gentleman was going one exit before the service area. He had pulled into an earlier parking area, but there didn’t seem to be all that many cars there, so he took me on to the services. A final lift with two gentlemen brought me all the way to the Shimonoseki turn-off. They were heavy smokers, and didn’t open their windows when puffing, so I just opened mine so that I could breath more wholesome air.

It was a short walk from the interchange to the Akama shrine. There were some clouds just above the horizon towards Kyushu. Fortunately, I had about half-an-hour to take photos in the shrine. I’m sure there were lots more scenes I could have captured with a bit more time.

I walked towards the port, stopping at a supermarket for my customary bread and croquet filling. I got enough for two days. In a convenience store, I purchased some salad filling. There is a large Daiei near the port. Next time, I’ll call in there.

I was most surprised to find that the ferry was full for the night’s sailing. I was assured that the following day there would be plenty of space. I would have to be there from 10.30 a.m., since it was the very last day of my visa.

I found a place to use my computer, and sorted out the photos of Shimonoseki, before starting on my diaries. A man sat nearby and lit up a cigarette. I was annoyed, because I was in a no-smoking area. “Can’t you read?” I asked. He just laughed, so I went over, stubbed out his cigarette, and threw it in the bin. He moved away. So, I became a self-appointed policeman for the day. It was more automatic than considered, so perhaps it was the built-up frustrations of having to accept smokey atmospheres where I had no rights or there were no rules governing the freedom to breathe.

Just before six, when the boat was due to leave, I was informed that there was indeed some space. I purchased my one-way ticket, and boarded. The ferry is quite different from before. Second class passengers used to have a wide open space at the rear of the boat. Now, we are all in separate compartments, with about 8 people in each one. I was lucky to find a space by the window, where I could plug in my computer.

As we set off, I went for a walk around the ship. Some Korea scouts started chatting - one spoke a little Japanese. They had been to a jamboree in Nagasaki. We took some photos, and I brought my computer round to their room to show them some of my snaps of Canada and Japan.

I had more work to do, so returned to my room to get on with the diaries. The bath is much improved, too. I went in at 10.30 p.m. and was quite alone.

I had called in just to change from my shoes into the walking boots. Trudging around Kanazawa in the snow, my feet were perpetually freezing. Stamping on them had just made them sore, without improving blood circulation. I was also worried that I might get too cold sleeping rough in Hokkaido, so put an extra pair of trousers in my rucksack. I’m right at the limit of what I can comfortably carry.

Mr. Noji senior drove us to S.I.B.C (which now stands for Sakai International Bible Church - chapels have the meaning of wedding chapels in Japan). I think most people were surprised to see me again so soon after Christmas.

It was the day for taking the group photo of S.I.B.C. so maybe people will be surprised to see me on the web page. I took a couple of snaps with my camera, but I’m not yet thinking as a professional cameraman. I allowed people to chose where they poked their heads through, and didn’t look carefully to make sure that everything was in balance. Maybe someday I’ll learn how to take photos of people. For now, I am no better than an amateur.

Several of my former sponsors wished to upgrade their CDs, and Michael wanted the spare Mac-compatible one. Renee and Shibuya were given a copy to say thanks for having me to stay.

I took the train up to Osaka and went into Kinokunia to find some information about Busan and Gyeongju. It seems that Korea has standardised on the pronunciation and spelling of its cities.

The convenience store I went to last time round has closed its doors. The economy must be getting worse

I took another train to the entrance to the highway. It was hard to know where to stand, but I found a place with ample stopping space. A lady with a very active four-year-old drove me to Nishinomiya-Najio service area. There, I stood outside, and soon had a lift to Tatsuno. The father, I think, missed the Sanyo line turn-off, so we had to take the Himeji bypass.

Tatsuno services are under repair. I sat in the tiny temporary restaurant area hoping for a lift. Eventually, I made it to Okayama. I fell asleep at the table.

The gardens open at eight and I was one of the first in. There was still plenty of snow around, though some of the trees were clear. It’s a pity that the sun barely shone through the thin clouds. There was plenty for me to shoot. It was just as well I came in early, because the crowds soon piled round the famous koto-shaped lantern (a koto is a Japanese harp). I used a lot of fill-in flash, to add a bit of colour to the images. It meant that I went through a lot of batteries. Usually, I take photos of the signs to read afterwards, but this time, the signs seemed to be part of the scenery. I included them in several photos.

I remained in the gardens until about 3 p.m. It was just as well I had brought some food with me. I eventually coaxed one of the drinking water fountains to dribble out some water for me - it was iced up.

I was surprised to see some blossoms already out. There were lots of things to be discovered in this garden. It was well worth the visit.

I started walking to the west exit of the expressway, thinking it would probably take about one and a half hours. I was lucky to get a lift all the way to Tokumitsu parking area with a lady who had spent some time in Vancouver. I think Tokumitsu now ranks as my top parking area. It is combined with a shopping centre that is for locals as well as highway traffic.

From there, I got one lift all the way to Osaka in a truck. The gentleman let me use his mobile to phone Noji-san. I got off at Suita, but I think it was a little inconvenient for the driver, since it was only an exit - and there was nowhere to turn round and continue his journey.

I took the monorail, but it was very expensive - 290 yen for just a few minutes, and two stops. It was easier to take the train, but I should have checked - there is also a nearby Hankyu line that would have been much cheaper. I did some work on the walk from Izumiotsu station.

Noji was still translating the sermon for tomorrow. He spends on average six hours a week doing this, often late into the night. I stayed up, and was able to help him out a little.

It was still snowing lightly in the morning when I arose. It didn’t last long, though, so I was able to go round and catch lots of beautiful snow scenes. The sun came out briefly, although it didn’t seem to matter. I enjoyed crisping through the snow finding lots to take photos of.

I came across a co-op, so stocked up on bread and corned horse (it’s called corned beef, but I wonder whether it contains more horsemeat than beef.) I sat on the seats by a small temple to eat it. However, a bus-load of tourists arrived. I had to move out of the way. I took a photo of the group, and included a small snowman. Someone joked that the professional photographer’s camera still had it’s cap on. I set off for Kanazawa. The gent who gave me my first lift lived in Shirakawa, but drove me down to near the entrance to the expressway. I stood at a car park, near another thatched house. A Spanish lady with two children stopped for me. They, too, lived in Shirakawa, and had just come from a cross-country skiing practice. The children had wanted to give me a lift. They drove me all the way to Tonami, and treated me to a delicious sushi. I was able to recharge my batteries in the sushi restaurant.

They dropped me at the entrance to the expressway. I didn’t have long to wait before I was given a lift all the way to Kenrokuen, in Kanazawa. There, I took some photos of the castle gate by lamplight, and found a place to hide for the night. I left my stuff there while I checked the internet and received my emails.

I had to get up about three hours after I went to bed. We were going to visit a cake shop nearby, and I was hoping to take some photos. Reg and I walked round. However, the cake machines weren’t in operation, and wouldn’t start until the afternoon. We chatted for a while. Reg communicates with all sorts of gestures and noises. We were offered some mochi, but Reg had once nearly choked on mochi - he wasn’t able to eat it.

Back at the house, I took some photos of a new camshaft that Reg has made for his Vincent motorcycle. Motorcycle racing isn’t just about power and speed. The Vincent is good because it doesn’t vibrate and it holds the corners well. The bike is still in bits in his front room from Golden week last year (early May).

I set off after lunch, having put all the motorcycle photos onto a special CD. Windows 2000 can cope with making CDs provided I save to a CD image first of all. I may try to purchase a CD burning program, preferably one that will make Mac-format CDs simultaneously.

First, I went to the telephone box to send some emails and update my homepage again. I put a small message onto the index page to say what I am up to and where I am going to next.

Then, I started walking along the road to Seki and Mino. A lady gave me a lift. She is studying to be a dental technician - or was it a teacher of dental technicians? It was only a short ride to the motorway. We went up a dead-end in search of the entrance to the service area. I suggested that we might go to a coffee shop, if she had time. No such luck.

In a nearby convenience store, I photocopied a page from a map of the area, and then walked to the services. I sat there for a long time, though I don’t have a watch, and never bother to work out just how long I stay in one place. It isn’t important to me. Finally, I was taken to Hirogano-kogen services. Up in the mountains, there was plenty of snow around. I peeped into the igloo at the services, and decided it would be quite fun to sleep there, if I didn’t get a ride. There were only two cars in the car park. The first gentleman I approached in the service area was going to Shirakawa.

So, we travelled quite slowly along the banks of the dam up to Shirakawago, with its thatched houses. I was dropped at the top entrance. First, I switched to my winter clothes. Then, I set off in search of a place to sleep for the night. In the end, I returned to where I had been dropped. I could sleep there, even though it was slightly exposed to the elements.

Reg and Brenda took me to another location in Gifu. It seems, though, that the best weather is first thing in the morning. The sun just hid behind the clouds the moment we arrived at the Chinese park. Perhaps we should get up earlier. There were some interesting “Kappa” statues. Apparently, this is the little demon that lives in ponds and in the sea, and tries to catch any swimmers who dare to swim out of season (July and August only).

We went to a Daibutsu (large statue of Buddha) which is made of papier mâché. The original paper was thousands of holy books. The room was very dimly lit, so I had to prop the camera on railings to stabilise it for the 2-4 second exposures. Normally the place is deserted, but a tour bus arrived at the same time as us.

Finally, we drove up Kinkazan to watch the sunset. There was a small gazebo built out from one viewpoint. In the beautiful sunset light, I reckoned it would look better with a couple in the picture. Reg and Brenda dutifully complied, and I only had to ask them to “do the couple thing.”

In the evening, I sorted out the best of the days takings while Reg brewed up yet another delicious meal. He does it to the precise second, and doesn’t like to be interrupted.

I continued working until 5.30 a.m. to complete the programming of the Mac-compatible CDs, and testing that they would work on a normal Mac (i.e. restoring Reg’s Mac to its original settings.) I also tried printing out a calendar of Japan, but the printer suddenly started to lose one line of red near the bottom of the page.

Bad news. My new lodger in Cambridge has decided to move out. It seems I shall have to revert to the regime of sleeping outside as often as possible to keep my expenses down. I don’t seem to be having much luck in Cambridge.

I’m not sure I’m having much success with the software conversion, either. Fortunately, I received a reply from Jonathan. He wasn’t familiar with the boot.ini, which I later discovered is a Windows 2000 file. I managed to reconstruct it, following instructions on the Windows support pages, but I still don’t have access to my Windows ME. Jonathan also mentioned Rockridge, which gave me something to hunt for on the web. It seems that there are several free programs for the Mac which allow it to read CDs created on Windows systems with up to 32 characters per filename. I downloaded the program into Reg’s computer and followed the slightly complicated instructions to install it. At last, I can show my photos on the larger screen. I was glad to see that it all worked perfectly.

Now that I can read my CD correctly on the Mac, it should be possible to create a Mac-compatible CD by burning it on Reg’s computer.

Reg reckons that some of his private students actually need counselling, rather than English lessons. He talked about his trip to Daytona, when he was unexpectedly asked to do his motorbike impressions on stage.