Reggie Thomson’s Diary

There was a disturbance in the early hours of the morning. Japanese people are not, in general, clumsy. Such behaviour has been well “ijimayed” (pronounced “ee’jeemayed&quot, meaning bullied) out of them by the age of nine or ten. My suspicions were correct - it was the older man of last night. This was, in my interpretation, his reaction to last night. I considered it nothing unusual - indeed I would call this normal Japanese ijimay behaviour.

I had mulled over the problem of my lodgers sufficiently by the morning, and wrote an email to Andrew requesting him to ask the problem lodger to leave. It is clear that I would not get on with someone who apparently doesn’t keep the place tidy, and I intend to be back in the house by the end of August. I was still on the phone at 10, and was a few minutes late checking out. I walked down to the Lutheran church. The pastor and I were the only males there. Altogether there were about a dozen people present. I got a bit confused in one song, where we sang the third verse twice. The pastor spoke very fast, so I couldn’t understand. I did notice, though, that he misread a two as a three, because there was a three at the beginning of the following column. An English brain, or should I say, British brain, is trained to notice all such mistakes and ugly truths in words. Visual uglinesses, such as litter, can all be ignored as though they don’t exist. Unless, of course, it is an ugliness present in a foreign country where one’s home country appears to be superior in any way - such as the pavements in Korea.

After the service, I joined the “ladies meeting” downstairs - or maybe it was just the usual after-service meeting. I stood by while they took photos.

Sachiyo and I walked around town for a while, but it was alternately drizzling or raining. It seemed more appropriate to have a coffee than a lunch. We chatted for a time in a cheap place - well, a place where the coffee was under 200 yen per cup. Later, we went on to the Oura church area. I asked if I could take photos inside. The flash would be a problem. I don’t use flash. As long as I didn’t disturb others it might be OK. I took some snaps through the outer windows, misting them up to give a halo effect round the lights. Inside, I put the camera on the pew for several more shots. One other person took a photo using flash.

I asked Sachiyo what her thoughts about Catholicism were. However, we didn’t talk long, as the cleaning lady came to remind us that this was not a “kyukeisho”, which is usually translated “rest area.” Churches have become museums for antiquated ideas.

It wasn’t worth going into Glover gardens for 600 yen and only an hour and a half of rainy weather. We went back to Daiei, where I got two days worth of food. Then, I took the tram to the start of the road to the expressway. It wasn’t long before I got a lift all the way to the Kiyama services. I was a bit sleepy, and the cold has developed into a cough. When the man lit up without warning, I opened the window without requesting.

I think we drove back in time a little - we were driving faster than the rain was following, meaning I would get the same rain - or clouds for the pedantic - a second time.

I watched some of the finals on a small T.V. in the smoking corner of the parking area, while I ate my evening sandwiches. A gentleman came up and started chatting at half-time. He could take me to Koga, but via Fukuoka. I went with them - a family returning from Kagoshima, I think. They were interested in the photos.

At Koga, I was too tired to continue. I watched some of the highlights of the match. It wasn’t raining, but looked as if it might. I found a place where I thought I would be partially covered.

I slept very well on the tatami and single futon. When I moved to Himeji and bought my first futon, I ended up buying four and making it like a bed. Now, I seem to be used to the harder surface. Or, maybe I was just extremely sleepy.

We chatted over a delicious breakfast. Although we watched the eight o’clock news and the NHK serial, they switched the TV off because “it was better for conversation.” In most Japanese houses, the TV is the perpetual background.

I thought about taking a photograph of the meal, and now wish I had. There were some dishes that were home grown. Indeed, the speciality of the house seemed to be homemade yoghurt with homemade natsu-mikan (a large, slightly sour, orange) marmalade. It was all very delicious.

The Katsuda’s were very talkative, and I sometimes struggled to keep up. They had both witnessed the atomic bomb. Mrs. Katsuda had been living near Unzen, from where it was so clearly visible as a mushroom - a sight never to be forgotten. They also talked about a terrible downpour in Nagasaki about 20 years ago. An absolutely black cloud had dropped 127mm per hour for about, was it ten hours? Around 300 people lost their lives in the flooding and mudslides that followed. Many of the bridges were washed away.

Mr. Katsuda is a water engineer, so perhaps had more interest than others in this subject. He has written several books about the origins of the water and sewage systems in Nagasaki. Apparently, it was an Englishman or Scotsman who first planned the water system for the city.

We also looked through their collection of photographs, while drinking lots of cups of tea. It was just what I needed for my cold - plenty of hot drinks. Lunch consisted of a delicious soup with homemade scones. Afterwards, I put some of my photos onto the TV to show them.

I gave them several postcards together with the CD, since they don’t have a computer. We departed late afternoon. It was drizzling, so we walked to the youth hostel via a small temple. I decided to stay one more day so that I could take some photos.

So, this is the fifth night in about six months where I have paid for in my accommodation in Japan. The youth hostel weren’t able to renew my hostel card, which runs out in two days. I would have to go to a larger hostel for that. Maybe I won’t bother. Youth hostels seem to be pretty empty. I wonder that they manage to make any profit at all.

I put some of my diaries onto the homepage. There were two English guys staying. I could have just sat in my room to continue with the diaries and sorting out of photos. I decided instead, to plug in to a socket in the dining area. There was another football match on TV. I thought it was a repeat, but actually, it was Turkey vs Korea. I half watched it, half talked, and half typed on my computer. Turkey scored within a minute of the start. Chris was watching while Brian used the computer. They were both keen football fans.

I have received a troublesome email from Andrew. It seems that the latest lodger isn’t keeping the place clean and tidy, and this has pushed Peter and perhaps the other lodger into deciding to leave. I don’t quite know what to do.

I don’t think I achieved much with the computing. Brian brought out some whisky. There was one other Swiss lady and a few Japanese. One talked about wanting a Lotus car. When we misheard and thought that he owned one, he protested, saying he was only a “bimbo.” Yes, that’s the Japanese word for a poor person.

An older gentleman walked in at around 10.30 p.m. He motioned to us to leave, marched up to the TV and switched it off. Doubtless, he is the boss or owner of the hostel. Chris thought he was very rude, unlike the politeness he had seen in other Japanese. Chris is currently working in Hiroshima. Brian had come to Japan to see the football.

We continued chatting in our room. Chris persuaded Brian to part with the last of the whisky, which he was saving for t omorrow when he returned to England. Chris then started probing Brian’s privat e life, “In Search of Ugliness.” I guess it is just copying the base standards of about 99.9% of the press in England. Life in England is all about ugliness and complaining about ugliness and wallowing in ugliness. When Brian eventually succumbed and revealed some of his life story, Chris didn’t really know what to do, it seemed. The chase was more fun than the catch.

He started on me, wanting to know about the single ladies who I had travelled with, and how many of them I had made love to. I replied in a similarly foolish vein, stating alternatively “all of them” or “none of them.” This, of course, was breaking the rules of conversation. Questions are what get conversations going, and I was ruining it by not cooperating. I had no intention of walking down the English roads of Ugliness. The pleasantness of Japan is that it’s airwaves are not filled with the ugliness of the English complaints or English sex-obsession chase.

Just before we went to sleep, Brian started asking questions about setting up a home page. He has several properties in Brighton, let out to students. Conversation of an interesting nature continued for a while.

I seem to have caught a cold. Perhaps it was the walk on Mt. Aso, or maybe I didn’t realise just how cold the air conditioning in the Kita-Kumamoto services was. I bought some throat lozenges for breakfast, and supplied myself with the free hot tea from the restaurant. I’m heading for Unzen, another volcano, but one that I haven’t been to before.

I was very sleepy, so just sat outside, with my sign. Eventually, one gentleman offered to take me to Kinryu services. Almost simultaneously, a lady came up. I gave her one of my cards. She handed me 1000 yen for food - so received a Canada CD.

Not long after setting off, we came to a stop outside another parking area. There had been an accident. We were stuck there for about three hours. I plugged in my computer and did some work on the homepages. The gentleman was quite helpful, and told me about some mistakes I had made in labelling. He used to study in Saga, and often went to Kinryu gardens. I decided to change my plans.

When we eventually got moving again, there was absolutely nothing to see. The police had removed the truck and cars involved, and even the original road works had been cleared to improve traffic flow. According to the news, one person had died.

At Kinryu, I was too tired to take photos immediately, I just sat drinking lots of hot tea, trying to soothe my throat. It was a while before I ventured out to see the park. I decided that if it cost much more than 400 yen, I wouldn’t go in. Instead, it was free. However, the park seems a lot less looked after that Okayama. Perhaps I could have taken photos, but it would have been a lot more effort. I prefer the neat, trimmed lines. This was more like wilderness. I slept for a while on a seat.

Back at the services, I phoned Sachiyo to see if I could stay in Nagasaki for the weekend. It might be better to stay somewhere with this cold, and when it is likely to rain. However, she wasn’t yet home. I decided just to head that direction anyway. A lady offered me a lift. At first, I think, she was a little unsure, and was going to telephone her husband. We stopped at the next parking area, so that I could phone again. At the final services, I was given Sachiyo’s mobile number, so managed to get in touch. I wouldn’t be able to stay there, but she might be able to arrange somewhere for me. The lady was going only to the end of the expressway, so I decided to jump out at the final parking area because it was raining slightly.

It was very small, and I’m not sure I would have found a place to stay. However, Sachiyo had managed to arrange something for me, so we agreed I would phone again as soon as I got to the station. As I sat outside, several cars came by, but none stopped. A police car pulled in, and then drove over to me. There was the usual blank look until I told them that I could speak Japanese. They asked as few questions and looked over my passport. As they did so, another gentleman came up. He offered to give me a lift into Nagasaki. The policemen thanked him.

I was driven all the way to the train station. There, I found a telephone, and called Sachiyo’s mobile. “Where are you now?” I asked. “Turn round!” It was quite funny to see her standing just behind me!

We took a taxi to her friend’s house because it was getting late. Sachiyo has just finished one job, and on Monday, will start work in a cafe that also serves meals to it’s clients pets - mostly dogs. I wonder how many years it is since I’ve been in a taxi? The last I can remember was in Taiwan - and they were free!

Taxis in Japan deposit you somewhere in the vicinity of your destination, leaving you to figure out the block and house number. Fortunately, the lady had been looking out, and came down the steps to meet us. Her husband had already retired for the evening. We chatted for a while over a hot drink. Sachiyo had missed her last train, so the lady suggested she, too, stay the night.

I was glad to take a ho t bath. The house has sliding doors, even for the bathroom. The handles are at a convenient height for the hands, but that makes it difficult to open them without making a noise.

It was a very early start. It seems that this is quite a family business. The gentleman’s wife and sister came along, too. I think there were about seven altogether in the van. I didn’t manage to fall asleep in the car. It was quite light. The advantage of hitching late into the night to get to my destination is that I can take photos from first thing in the morning. I began to wonder whether I had made the right decision.

We took the expressway to Kyushu. At a service station, we seemed to need some cups - it’s just a matter of pressing the button several more times. There goes six hours of electricity.

We stopped once or twice on the route. I took several snaps of a road that I think had been tunnelled out by hand, a bit like Taroko gorge in Taiwan. At the destination, near Kusu, another gentleman drove up. He offered to take me to a “michi no eki” - which literally translates as a “station on the road”. It’s like a service station on an ordinary road. I went in “In Search of Chocolate” but these places, like their expressway equivalents, and full of “omiyage” - presents. The “michi no eki” areas also seem to sell lots of fresh vegetables and fruits.

So, I just started walking, and was soon greeted by a familiar convenience store, where I stocked up on food and energy for the day. I wrote my signs for Ichinomiya and Okuni, and splashed myself in some sunscreen. The gentleman who picked me up was going as far as Okuni, but he took me all the way to Daikanbo, since he said his appointment wasn’t until 1 p.m.

Although the sun was shining, it was quite a muggy day, so the distant Mt. Aso almost disappeared in the haze. There were some nice moths and lizards to add to the collection. I did some work as I walked back to the Ichinomiya road. It will be a long time, perhaps, before another soul walks this tiny stretch of road, and longer still before anyone picks up litter. I wonder how long - ten years, twenty years, perhaps fifty years. Lots of rich cars will have tossed out much more debris by then.

A couple gave me a lift into Ichinomiya. In fact, they drove me all the way up to Sandankyo. On the way, we passed some good-looking cows. I should have asked if I could take a quick snap. The valley around Mt. Aso is known as ” the Milk Road”. Near the top, their mobile phone went off. Someone wanted to know where they were. Ooops!

I had forgotten that the water in the toilets here was labelled “Not suitable for drinking.” I had about half a bottle of donated tea to keep me going across the mountain. I soaked my small blue towel before setting off, and regularly dampened myself with it on the way up. It was difficult to find a bin for my earlier collections.

Again, the views across the plains to the outer crater were great, but misty. I understand that this is the world’s largest caldera. There were plenty of well-labelled maps on posts all the way up. At the cable-car station, a group of high school students greeted me with “Konnichiwa’s.” In southern Honshu and Kyushu, people actually talk to you!

At the viewpoint, I took lots of snaps looking into the central cauldron. Usually, I just hitch to the viewpoint at the other side of the volcano. I was glad I came this way. The colours of the earth were incredible - pinks, greys, blacks, browns, oranges. It was a great walk round. From time to time, the loudspeakers across the crater would be put on full volume to warn of the issuing gases. I used my towel as a face mask when I wasn’t taking photos. The sulphurous air was noticeable, and I thought I should protect my lungs as much as possible. There weren’t many other folks around, but nobody had any lung protection.

At the other side, I was wowed by the beautiful bush-covered valleys. It was a great walk. I have been to Mt. Aso about five or six times, but for me, this is the best way to approach it, though perhaps an earlier start w ould be recommended (I had set off at about 2 p.m.) You also get a great view of the “sleeping priest” mou ntain nearby.

The loudspeakers went silent after about five, as I was descending towards the main cauldron. Perhaps some of the haze was caused by the gases from the volcano. I walked up towards the viewpoint, but could see that there was a lot of emissions, and that I wouldn’t get an interesting photo anyway. I turned back. Apparently, one isn’t supposed to be in this area at all after 5 p.m. I washed my feet and bought some CC Lemon for the walk back to the main road - perhaps about 2-3 hours.

A car stopped in one of the car parks, but I was too late to attract it’s attention. However, I noticed that it had parked along the top of the ridge. Maybe someone was watching the sun go down. When I approached, it seems the gentleman had been puzzled at the sight of someone with a backpack, so perhaps he had been waiting for me. We drove off in his open-top sports car, whizzing round the corners. He had just finished work and was heading back to Takachiho, but came up here just for the drive. I think I was the first hitchhiker he had met.

I was dropped in Ozu. First, I needed some more sustenance, so went into a convenience store. A little later on, I noticed a discount store. Perhaps they would sell CDs. After a quick scout round, I found some at a reasonable price.

Two gentlemen gave me a lift into Kumamoto. I tried to ask if they were going to Route 3, but I’m not sure they understood. I took a quick look at the expressway entrance, but decided against standing there. Instead, I set off for what I thought would be two hours of walking to the Kita-Kumamoto services. A car went past and nearly stopped. A few minutes later, it had come back for me. The gentleman was returning from his hotel work in Mt. Aso, and said he could take me to the service area. It would have been a 3-4 hour walk!

There didn’t seem to be many cars in the car park. I waited inside as it was cooler. At midnight, I figured that I wouldn’t be bothering anyone if I plugged in and made some new CDs. The air conditioner was quite strong. I tried to figure out if it was especially strong when I was alone - in case someone was using that method to try and get rid of me. Far from it! The chef came to chat and change the TV channel to a movie channel. He turns out to be the owner of the chain of restaurants in the service areas of the region. I thought that these places were run entirely by J-SaPa - the highways company, and that only the parking areas were in private ownership. Perhaps things have changed since I was given that information.

The gentleman was into movies, and someday would like to be a movie reviewer. Maybe I’ll have to hurry up and produce my movies! He asked if I’d seen “The Seven Samurai”, by Kurokawa. Not yet, but I’d like to, someday.

At about 3.30 a.m. I was offered a lift to Kiyama. The truck driver was quite chatty, so I didn’t get any sleep. I hid in Kiyama, so that I wasn’t pressured to get up at first light.

I woke up with a start at half past midnight, so decided to move to another location. Fortunately, it wasn’t raining. When it was light, I got up - about 05:30 or so. The sun was already up. Sun? I thought today was supposed to be terrible weather. I came here because I thought it would be best to go down a cave when it was raining. Don’t tell me the weather forecasters have changed their minds again? It seems to be the case. I have a suspicion that if Japanese forecasters are likely to get the weather wrong, they will err on the side of bad weather. That way, the population will be prepared for it if it happens, and if it doesn’t, they will be relieved and happy. Perhaps I’m doing my photography wrong. Perhaps I should take only mediocre photos. Then, when someone sees my photos and goes to the place, they will have a pleasant surprise - it’s better than the photos.

I didn’t wish to waste time washing or using the computer. I started walking to Akiyoshidai, with its limestone outcrops. One car went past but didn’t stop. I was walking through thick forest, wondering how it would turn into the bush and grass covered plateau as in the photos I had seen.

I wasn’t quite sure how to get in. In the end, I half slid down an embankment to get onto a path. I wandered round for some time. There didn’t seem to be any scenes quite like the ones I had seen on photographs. I kept to the main paths, but once or twice took a small path that petered out. There were notices about keeping to the paths for the sake of the nature. Yet this is an area that gets completely burnt in early February. I don’t know what to think about the burning. By midday, I was tired. I found somewhere to do some work, and get the new photos onto the webpage while my batteries were recharging. I then went into the free museum nearby. It was called “kagaku,” which I thought translated into “Chemistry” but was more like a natural history museum. I don’t think it gets a LonelyPlanet mention, but I think it was worthwhile. I discovered that there is a thistle that is local to Akiyoshidai. I didn’t manage to get a good photos of it.

I took the elevator down to the cave. Taking photos in such dark conditions is very difficult, especially since I don’t use a tripod and I don’t use flash. It somewhat restricts the places I can take photos from. I tried using the flash, but last time I came here, I had a much more powerful flash. The in-built one wasn’t capable of showing up the whole rice-paddy field area. I just put the camera on a post, and set the time to eight seconds. It seems to work. I wonder if I should put the image stabilisation off when I have long exposures?

I missed a few places at the top end - I didn’t go far enough up. Also, they seem to have built a new part, but it closes at 4 p.m. and costs an extra 300 yen for just 100 metres.

I was offered a lift within three cars. The gentleman was going to Ogaki. It meant I wouldn’t be able to stop at the convenience store. He took me right to the gate of the services. Inside, I bought some ice-cream for energy. Some of these service areas don’t have any chocolate. They have lots of “Omiyage” - gifts from the area to take to family or folks at work. I guess an energy-hungry hitchhiker is a rarity.

I was half-way through, when a gentleman sat down nearby. He lives near Tokuyama, and offered to let me stay at his house. I’ve had few homestays in Honshu, the main island, so I decided to accept. It means I will go to Mt. Aso tomorrow, instead of Shikoku. Actually, I’m not being fair on Honshu. Most of my friends are dotted across Honshu, so I already have plenty of places to stay. Also, I’ve turned down several offers because it is easy to hitch overnight, and I wanted to be in my destination by early morning.

I’m not the first hitchhiker the gentleman has picked up. He once gave someone a lift to Shimonoseki, but the boat was full for two days, so he took him home. I wa s taken to his office first, and shown the statue of Jesus Christ in the workshop. He had some things to do, so I just did a bit of computing.

Then, we went to a small “sento” - public bath. I sat in the electric bath for a while. We had a meal in Joyful, with beer and sake, then returned home. Since we would need to get up at 04:00, I only did a bit more diary writing before retiring.

I did a little bit more computing in the morning, converting the index and the about files to use the database. There was just time to update the homepage, too. I had to rush the coffee to be out by just after nine as I had promised. I left a postcard with a thank you message in Japanese, though I think I got some of my kanji muddled up.

My conditions for the use of the photos are unacceptable to one company. Perhaps it was the cost - I quoted just £12 for a CD of Canada including postage. They seem to want everything for free - well, not quite. They were happy to give me some free website advertising by linking to my page. Actually, I don’t need adverts. As yet, I have made little effort to promote my homepage. If I did, I would have to reduce the photos even further, because I might exceed my monthly throughput allowance. With many people having cable or ADSL internet access, they can zip through photos and Mbytes very quickly.

Maybe, though, it was the requirement to collect some litter to “earn” the right to use my photos. If so, then the photos are still not of sufficient value. I wonder if songs would have any higher value? It’s quite fun waking up with no idea where one is. All I knew was that it was in Hiroshima somewhere. I wrote down some details of the address and started walking . With no sun to guide, I had to guess at which way west was. Within a block or two, I had found a main road and a signpost to Iwakuni. I was in the west part of Hiroshima. I found a convenience store for my peanut breakfast - at 100 yen for 650kcals, it’s one of the highest calories sources per yen.

I walked and worked along the road to Hatsukaichi. Most of the traffic had taken the bypass after the bridge. A gentleman in an Alfa Romeo gave me a lift to Hatsukaichi. At one point, we seemed to get stuck in a queue. A lady wanted to pull out, and peeped, but nothing happened. She eventually knocked on the window to ask us to go reverse a little.

I walked up to the service area, through the tunnel where I once spent a night. I didn’t buy any more food, since I had the pot noodles (85yen) from yesterday, and some genmei (unpolished rice) from the ladies. Unfortunately, though I had picked up a pair of chopsticks from another service area, I must have left them in the apartment. So, no pot noodles. I didn’t feel like asking for chopsticks at the counter. Chopsticks are probably one or two hours worth of computer electricity.

A gentleman gave me a lift to Kudamatsu services. I fell asleep in the car, though I thought about doing some computer work. At the service area, I sat inside and repaired my camera case. I tried to think of some more lines to “I just want to live in a beautiful world,” but it is a difficult song.

When I went outside, a younger guy offered to take me to Mito. Again, I fell asleep. I sat in Mito for a while, watching a Japanese lady win her round at Wimbledon.

There was plenty more work to do on the road to Akiyoshido. A gentleman turned round for me. He wasn’t going quite that direction, but went out of his way for me. There were no convenience stores in Akiyoshido, so I walked back two kilometres to find one. I’ve bought enough bread for two days, in case I get stuck in the cave. So, now I’ll do some more work before retiring.

I was up when it got light, not having much idea what the time was. I think it was about 05:30. I had a quick wash nearby, and went looking for a convenience store. Yoghurt and peanuts for breakfast. As I was eating, the sun broke through the clouds, so I set off for the castle. I managed only a few sunshine photos before the clouds obscured the sun again.

Having taken my castle snaps, I walked back to Korakuen. It was raining lightly, but I figured I don’t have the choice now. The sun gives greater contrast, brighter colours and interesting shadows. Still, there was plenty to see. Indeed, I especially enjoyed the lotus leaves. The raindrops collected inside them, and from time to time they would fill up and topple over. It reminded me of the bamboo water spouts. Perhaps that was where the original idea came from.

The irises, which is what Korakuen is most famous for, were almost over, but there were enough left for a photo or two. I had to put my photos onto the computer, so found a dry seat. I had just taken everything out of my rucksack when a gentleman came up. This was a shop and the seats were needed for his customers. I explained I would only need two or three minutes, but I think I should have moved - there were other places just round the corner, as I soon discovered. I gave him one of my cards.

When I ate lunch, a lady from America started chatting, asking if I was backpacking. I think she was a little surprised that I am doing so for ten months - two more to go.

I wanted to take a few more photos, but after lunch, I felt very sleepy. I nearly fell into the cacti when taking photos. So I sat down for a snooze. Then I began to think about my next destination. It is raining quite hard now, and I’m beginning to get wet. If I go to Shikoku, and am walking on normal roads, I think I will be perpetually wet. Maybe I should go to Akiyoshidai in Yamaguchi. At least, since it is a cave, I can stay dry. Then, perhaps, I should go to Tokyo. I don’t care if I don’t have good photos of Tokyo.

From the same convenience store, I purchased the necessary energy for the walk, and a map for orientation. It was a long, wet walk to the service area. My leggings aren’t much good. It confirmed that I really should get some better wet weather wear, and meantime, I should avoid rain where possible.

The first lift was with a small group who had just travelled round Kanazawa. They have offered to put me up for the night. Since I have plenty of friends in Honshu, I haven’t really needed accommodation, and so far haven’t had any offers. So, I changed my plans - the weather is for rain for the whole week. (Except in Sapporo and Naha).

So, wow! Here I am in an apartment all to myself. My trousers and wet clothes are in the washing machine, and I have just made some changes to my PHP programs so that I can change the index from the database rather than uploading a new page each time.

The headache had gone in the morning - I didn’t leave the windows open. After a bit more computing, I went with Mr. Noji Sr. to Sakai. Noji had left earlier because he was translating and singing.

Put me in a seat these days, and I promptly fall asleep. It makes no difference where I am. So I dreamt about a sermon. Something about trials and maturity.

I chatted for a while, then went across to Hiroko’s to say hello. After that, I took the train to Namba, but I think I should have gone via Shinimamiya and JR. It’s a bit cheaper. Indeed, when I got to Takarazuka, I realised that there is a JR line that goes all the way to Nishinomiya-najio. Next time!

I’m quite out of touch with the world, so I bought a Yomiuri to read on the train. It seems that morals in England are getting extremely confused. Cheryl Blair seems to think that the Palestinians are blowing “themselves” up. I wish I could remember the direct quote. It was something like “It is sad when people feel there is no alternative but to blow themselves up.” First, if they were simply blowing themselves up, who would be particularly worried. No. They are murdering their neighbours out of an inner, evil hatred. Nothing less. Secondly, does the self-destruction therefore make Palestinians (and New York WTC bombers) somehow better than, say, the IRA who mostly blew up others and sometimes only buildings? I come from a country which is ruled by outsiders, but if some within that country decided that the only course of action is to blow up anybody English, then I would disown my nationality and work to prosecute all who encourage such murders. The remarks of a certain prime minister’s wife come dangerously close to encouraging such murders. (I should add that she apologised for the remarks, but I don’t know what form the apology took.)

I found the local convenience store. I had started eating my salad, but after a day in my room, and a night in the fridge, it had gone off. So much for my 200 yen full meal.

With the bag from the convenience store, I was able to do some work on the hot walk to Najio. When I got there, I first stood in the litter bins area, but it was very crowded. I went round the corner, and soon had a lift to Miki. After another wait, three ladies pulled over. They were going to Kochi. At first, I thought they would be going by the expressway, and be able to drop me at the Okayama interchange or Kibi services, but they weren’t going that far. They took me to Tatsuno services. They thought I was a university student and were surprised when I said it was 20 years ago!

My final lift was with a gentleman and his Filipino wife, who took me all the way to Korakuen in Okayama. I quickly found a place to sleep, and since I hadn’t found an electricity source, I retired early. It was quite hot, so I didn’t need the sleeping bag at first. Later, though, it cooled down.

Hmm. I didn’t get very far. I sorted out the photos from yesterday and put them on the web. Somehow, that gave me a headache. Noji thought perhaps it was because I kept the window open last night and got cold. I’ve closed the windows for tonight. I figure I’m not supposed to be rushing off to Okayama yet. I’ll stay for church tomorrow, and then rush off.

I watched the football tonight. I needed a break from work. I skimmed through Dilbert and Calvin and Hobbes to catch up on the latest strips.

I went through the search engines looking for “Reggie Thomson.” It’s just a way of pointing out if there are any web pages I need to update. The Freeserve UK address no longer works. Maybe I should close down haikuphotos.com and redirect it to reggie.net.

I was introduced to the family at breakfast time. Afterwards, I looked through lots of photos of New Zealand. The usual question I ask myself is “Does this scene have potential?”

It was beautifully sunny. I took some snaps in the garden. Perhaps Japanese gardens are planned round the stones, I thought. I liked the variety of stones, and the variations in the paths - stones raised above the grass, rounded stones, cut rectangular stones, the geometrical versus the natural. I didn’t have time to photograph the wonderful Japanese tatami room that I had slept in. Still, it leaves something to come back for.

After a delicious lunch, Machiko’s son drove me to Kishiwada castle. I wandered round, taking photos of the stone garden, mostly. I think this is my favourite stone garden. Ryoanji is probably the most famous stone garden in Japan, but I like this one, because of it’s angles and layout. I went into the castle, briefly. It’s only 200 yen, and I wanted the photo of the stones from the top.

I joined the English class for their tea time, and we had lots to chat about. I gave them a copy of the complete Canada CD each. My pink shirt was considered to be “Loud.” I usually think of pink as being a soft, gentle colour - colours such as dark blue or black are loud and have to be treated carefully in a photo so as not to drown out the sounds of the other colours in the scenes. I guess it is that the loudness of the pink is merely because the rest of the world is in dark blues and blacks, and the tiny bit of pink stands out. Or maybe it’s just that a MAN in pink is unusual.

Afterwards, I wanted to get in touch with another friend, but the telephone number is wrong. I walked to Izumiotsu, collecting some litter on the way. I had a bite to eat in Daiei, and then went to Noji’s house. I tried to do some computing, but Mr. Bean was on T.V., so I was distracted.