Foooooooooooooooooooooood

So it's no secret that food is a big problem for me in Japan.  There are a thousand different types of fish (none of which are predicted to be available in 10 years due to over-fishing) and a thousand different types of rice (who knew there was more than one kind of rice?) but very little in the way of marmite.  There isn't even the option for one kind of marmite, the bog standard marmite in a jar.  Marmite chocolate is fine in a pinch (that pinch being a three month wait for it to be shipped over), but, realistically speaking, nothing is going to take over the crown of the original.  Marmite crisps are something to be avoided.

So we know how things are from an English in Japan perspective; how about the reverse?

In Japan they have all the fish and all the rice, but they also have interesting takes on well known western classics.  If you're a macdonalds person who has ever been on the internet you probably know about the teriyaki chicken burgers.  They're just fried chicken sandwiches with a teriyaki sauce, so nothing mind-blowing.  Unless you've never tried teriyaki, in which case I suggest you go out and find something adorned with said sauce.  You might like it if you like tangy things, but aside from that I can't really tell you what it's comparable to and whether you should avoid it or not.

I am bad at this.

There are also the chocolates, something I am much more familiar with.  The venerable kitkat has made its way here, only to fall over and get covered in green tea.  It's bright green and tastes quite peculiar.  It doesn't really taste like green tea (who would have guessed that a chocolate company pouring chemical formulations into their chocolate would end up with something that doesn't taste anything like the flavour written on the label, shocking!) but it doesn't really taste chocolatey either, so I'm not entirely sure who this is aimed at.

Locals who have never eaten chocolate or drunk green tea?  Good luck finding that person.

There are also seasonal varieties here.  They love the fact that they have four seasons (for some reason that I have yet to figure out, all Japanese people think that Japan is the only country in the world with four seasons, even though they only have three - hot, cold, rainy) and utilise that for some insidious marketing.  In Summer everything is watermelon flavoured.  In rainy, everything is cherry blossom flavoured.  In Winter everything is back to normal, but with a christmas tree on the cover.

One thing I've also noticed is that apples come around this time of year, apparently from up north (Hokkaido) and they're great.  Super sweet, super juicy and enormous.

Artists impression of various apples.  Big ones - Japanese Winter apples.  Small ones, stupid English apples.

The only problem is, and I say this with all the affection for quirky Japanese customs, rituals and superstitions in the world, they are terrible at eating them.  The worst.

They get a knife, peel the apple, then cut it into equally sized slices, then serve them on a plate.

Everyone does this.  Monsters.

It's a fucking apple!  Just eat the damned thing!  Run it under a tap to get all the nitrates, pesticides and carbon nanotubes off the skin, then eat the fucking thing.  Christ almighty.  I could have washed, eaten and thrown away three apples in the time it takes to peel one.  By the time you're done the thing is brown anyway.  What on earth.

Anyway, apples aside, there are a million variations of normal western food out here, I just wonder how long it's going to take someone to make a sushi stuffed Christmas turkey, like a turducken, only with wasabi.

Oh, wasabi.  You should definitely buy some if you have never tried it.  It's possibly the most revelatory food experience I've had since I've been here.  It's part tastebud destroyer (like the worlds strongest mustard), part decongestant.  It's excellent with almost anything you'd use mustard for, I'm told (I don't eat mustard, mustard is disgusting) and obviously great with sushi.  I've also been known to just sit down in front of the youtube with a tube (of mustard), and slowly work my way through it, instead of going to the corner shop and buying some horrendous slop as a snack.

It's probably given me, or is going to give me, seventy bajillion ulcers because that stuff is basically caustic, but damn if it doesn't get the pipes clear.

Try it out some time.

I Can't Cook

So it's a well established fact that I can't cook, so I've been on the lookout for 'recipes.'

Where a recipe and a 'recipe,' differ is in the preparation.  A recipe requires tools (none of which I have), foodstuffs (none of which I can reasonably buy) and technique (something I will never possess).

A 'recipe,' requires the illusion of one, two or three of the above things.

Knowing this, I present to you my first 'recipe.'

So if anyone asks, they're hamburgers.  Or beefburgers or something.  I don't know.

The reason this is a 'recipe,' is simple - you don't need any specific ingredients (I just found whatever was in my fridge) or any particular skill.  You just buy mincemeat of whatever variety, chop up some vegetables (anything will do) and then mix them up.

Put them into roughly circular shapes, put them in your frying pan and cook for however long it takes to do.  Apparently you're supposed to let them settle for an hour, or put them in the fridge for a while, but I can't tell the difference either way.  Just eat the damned things.

It's taken decades to get to this point, so don't expect the next food update for a while.

On a side note, the melons are outside now (the ones that survived the cut, pun intended) so I'll get some pictures of those before they die off.

I've got a floor full of melon plants now, and I don't know what to do with them.  Urban garden graffiti?

New Years Recipe

So it's official, steam is the future.

I recently obtained a steamer of some kind, big enough to steam a chicken breast and all the vegetables.  It's the only way to cook potatoes (I really didn't eat many potatoes outside of England).  It's the best because you just turn it on and leave it, you don't have to worry about it boiling over or not being covered (so basically there's no difference between steaming and boiling).  It's good for just setting and forgetting which is perfect for me because I can't cook.

The one downside is that there's literally no flavour.  Spuds are so devoid of taste that they go with anything, but that's not exactly a boon for someone who can't cook.

The answer is simple, and is one that I've only reached today.

Before I unleash this recipe upon the world I must add that I'm making it now (I'm writing this while it boils away) and I haven't tasted it yet.  But here goes:

Boil or steam or fry your vegetables and chickens.  Or microwave them; whatever suits you best.  Put it on a plate in your preferred order.  Put cheese on top.  Wait, you're not finished yet.

Now add lots of marmite.

Done.

What I Eat

I've been on a manic quest to put on a bit of weight while living in Japan.  Everyone tells you that it's impossible.  Portions are too small, the makeup of their diet is wrong; et cetera.  This is absolutely true.  I have struggled immensely with this issue, and have only recently begun putting on weight due to an insane amount of eating.  Once you've got the weight, it's quite easy to keep it (I don't know whether that's genetics or what) but getting there is a chore.

I eat a small breakfast (I've never been one for breakfast, it's a stupid meal).  Then when i have some, I'll have a protein shake for elevenses.  As an aside, whoever invented elevenses is a genius, especially if your choice of fattener is chocolate milkshake.

Lunch will be a sandwich, nothing major.

Then around four, I'll have noodles, or another sandwich, or a Japanese curry chicken thing out of the corner shop (whatever I can get my hands on really) then I'll hit the gym or go for a run (adequate time being left between consuming food and workout).  When I get back it's two chicken breasts, all the vegetables in the world, and a portion of rice.  Veggies will include peppers, green red and or yellow.  Spinach type things.  Broad beans.  Mushrooms.  An onion (always).  And whatever else is available.  Couple that with the myriad fruit juices I drink every day and I think it's pretty healthy.

So for all the effort I've put into gaining weight, I've put on about 2kg's.  Two measly kilogrammes.  It's certainly lean weight though, I don't think there's much in the way of fat going in me at the moment.

92 kg's isn't bad, and I certainly don't want to be much more than that.  Another one or two and I'll be done I think.

Assuming I can afford this terribly expensive eating habit.

The Art of Selfishness

This article from the BBC pointed towards something unintended.  The tradition in all Asian countries, has been for the subsequent members of family to provide for their elders.  They don't have pensions, banking interest rates are measured in fractions of a percent, and general wealth has been hard to come by.

Japan has bucked this trend recently, with its' declining population and relative wealth, they do the western thing of providing for themselves with pensions, savings and occasional part-time work.

Watch the article and you'll see that china is still some way behind in this respect.  The guy speaking ends his part by saying 'it will be difficult for him [the lone male child] to provide for the six of us.'

Now, when you are so selfish as to expect the child to provide for six people, without even considering the child in question, something must be inherently wrong.  In fact, expectation is the wrong feeling.  It's not really expected that he will do this; he will do it.  It transcends expectation because there is an element of doubt related to expectation.  It's a certainty in the mind of this man.  When you elevate selfishness to the realm of certainty without reprisal, you have created an art form.  Truly.

Poor kid.

Then again, the 'little emporer,' syndrome they talk about lives true and well within all of china.

Having met and spoken with a ton of the wealthiest 'little emporers,' in university, I can honestly say they can be obnoxious.  This is not to say people with brothers and sisters can't be foul, obviously this is not the case - I just feel that this particular breed of chinese (dedicated to pouring their entire being into the new generation) has created a number of monsters.  Just look at me as a prime example of the western equivalent (a term I'm now coining 'little king.') and become afraid.  There is only one of me, but there are billions of them.

Time to get out of here before they all grow up and move abroad!



In other news:  UK terror threat level has been downgraded from 'kiss your ass goodbye,' to 'rip your own eyeballs out, it'll be easier for you when they come and start shooting children.'

If you have any fears over your safety in the UK, just watch James Bond - he is badass.

Also, grow up.

One last thing about the terror warnings - they only ever raise them to the highest level after an attack has occurred, rendering all the 'I urge civilians to be cautious and alert,' bullshit moot, as we should have been alert prior to the bombing.  Not after.  Not exactly rocket scientist material heading government anti-terror units these days.  That in itself is more a cause for concern than any fictitious terrorists.


On an unrelated note, I just visited a class for lunch (every day I have to eat lunch with a class.  This is probably why I've lost weight.  I just want to eat lunch quietly without seeing filthy children vomiting and spitting food at each other and flinging poo around like monkeys.  It's disgusting.) and saw a kid eat his meal like a gannet.  An otherwise impressive feat, it was somewhat disturbing for me to realise that all the kids were eating like that.  It must be a fad or something.  Literally no chewing occurred.

Then again, contrary to popular belief, Japanese people do not possess table manners.  Sure, they kneel down and bow, say prayers of thank you (more on the prayers at a later date) before and after meals, and keenly observe proper chopstick etiquette - but once those formalities are overcome, it's all hands to the troughs.  To see grown men, holding their chopsticks perfectly, dive head first into their bowls of food without using their hands is quite something.  They can go through whole meals without actually using their perfected chopstick techniques, instead preferring the animalistic approach.  Once they have finished troughing, they observe the etiquette laden formality of life once again.

Their children are umpteen times more disgusting to watch eating.

This is of course not to disparage all Japanese people.  I find the women eat in a way that isn't fear-inducing, and some men are tolerable.

This is also coming from the only human being on the planet who feels that meal times are much better alone than shared with another, however, so my views may well be biased on this front.

P.s I just read a ten minute long back and forth internet flame war, arguing which is better: Western music or Eastern music.  Not to put too fine a point on matters, while every country has patriots, Korea and Japan have attracted the anti-patriot.  The 'weaboo,' is a common internet species, who think they're Japanese or Korean (the 'or Korean,' part is still yet to be added to the definition, but it's not long before it happens) despite being 14th generation English, French, German, Dutch or American - and never having left their parents' metaphorical or literal basement.

As such, the defence for the East-Asian music went thusly (to paraphrase): Western music is shit.

The rebuttal was: Japanese and Korean music is equally shit, except there is no variation that allows for the occasional breakthrough artist, or that caters for individual tastes.

The rebuttal is entirely correct.  The only music in Japan is pop music.  It's so generic, people have created computer programs that produce music indistinguishable from 'real,' music.  I recently told the rugby guys that I like a Japanese rock band called 'maximum the hormone,' (another example of why Japan really needs to start taking English language teaching seriously) and they said, 'that's a bit weird.'  They also advised me against telling any women that I like them, in case they thought I was weird too.

They're genuinely awesome, but they're not pop - in essence the reason why the West is better isn't the overall quality of music, (huge swathes of stuff produced in the West is dire, let's be honest) it's the fact that there is no music catering to differing tastes.  If you don't like whiny, nasal pop, you're SOL (something out of luck) in Japan.

Unless you have the internet.

The internet beats the wheel as the best invention ever.

Using the above statement, begin a new flamewar at your own behest.

*SWEARING*

This particular episode of the Sam diaries will contain a lot of swearing.

If you are particularly moralistic, or of weak fortitude; proceed no further.  Also, if you're my mum or my grandparents, I would probably not read any further.  Dad, you've probably heard me say worse at rugby, so you're immune.

Swearing will commence in:

3

2

1

Fuck.

There - I said it.  Apparently the first one is always the hardest, and leads to a floodgate effect.  Fuck.  I guess the eponymous 'they,' were correct again; I can't stop swearing now.  Stopping might cause a quantum time loop effect that might well destroy the universe.  Best not hold back then.  Fuck.

So today didn't start well, the middle was excellent, and the ending was what caused my current annoyance.

Before I begin the story proper, it is important to understand that Japan has three major forms of transport.  The bicycle, used by anyone too young, too poor or too infirm to drive.  The car, used by a large number of people, and the train; used by a ridiculous number of people.  Think a billion a year.  Trains then, are an integral part of life in a way that they're simply not in England.  Bicycles too, as when I'm out and about I'll see three or four others riding around, every ten minutes.  Again, important in a way beyond the scope of comprehension among westerners.  (Huh?  Every kid rides their bike to school?  Why doesn't mum just drop them off?  Huh?  People with working cars ride to the shops?  Are they mad?)

I am often accused of lacking a logical coherence in my story telling, so it begins now.

Today was the day of an enkai (after-work drinking party) for one of my elementary schools.  I dropped fourty big ones to get a seat.  This included drinks (all you can, despite me not being particularly beer inclined, I wouldn't have minded a glass or some wine) and sashimi, some barbecue stuff and more.

Before the story advances I feel it pertinent to mention that I can't speak Japanese.  I make pathetic attempts at learning the language, but it's going to be an uphill struggle for sure.  I can remember that Germany has a population of eighty million, England and France have near identical populations of sixty million, but I can't remember the word for 'number,' in Japanese, despite being told a dozen times or more.

So I decided to cycle to the enkai, some ten kilometres away.  This is not particularly far, but I'd also wanted to travel to Ashikaga (nowhere near the enkai) for some time now.  The astute among you will notice that I used the past tense for the Ashikaga part, meaning I made it there.

When deciding my plans, I noted that I can't hold a conversation in Japanese for more than five minutes at best.  Therefore, fifteen people (give or take) times five minutes at best, equals an hour (if we take into consideration that not everyone will talk, and I won't be able to talk for the full five minutes with some).  Therefore, I determined that turning up with an hour to go would give me ample time to stuff my face, do the requisite talking, and leave - having 'experienced' enkai (noted for insane drinking and dropping of all social normality (normality = social restrictions, i.e your elders being better than you, social class, rank etc) and some awesome Japanese food.

To make things interesting, and to fulfil a goal of mine, I decided to ride to Ashikaga, hit the station, train it to Tochigi and ride to the bar.  A five minute journey from the station to the bar, half an hour on the train, an hour and a half (25km) to Ashikaga, Enkai ends at 9PM.  If I leave at half six, I will have plenty of time.

First of all, the wind was fierce.  Fierce as fucking balls.  30km an hour sustained windspeed.  Christ knows what it was gusting to.  About halfway to Ashikaga it started letting up.  Now, incidentally, I just threw a paper aeroplane out of the window and it made it all the way to the other side of the street without so much as a deviation.  Changeable.

So fighting a divine headwind I made it halfway.  Then I got a puncture.  Not a nice friendly puncture on the front wheel.  A bitch of a puncture on the back wheel.  Japanese bikes are not made like western bikes.  They are not simple.  They have the mechanical equivalent of the Starship Enterprises warp reactor safety mechanisms.  The back wheel has two nuts, four washes, a gearing system on one side, a drum brake on the other, a spacer, a kickstand (which, for some bizarre reason, goes on first) and a bizarre thing that stops everything spinning.  I don't have the vocabulary to describe what it looks like, or which group of 'things' it falls into.

This cost me the best part of an hour.  (Someone stopped to help me, and they had a pump which was awesome, because I didn't!  Japanese people can be exceedingly nice.)

Incidentally (again) this is my fourth puncture.  Four punctures, four weeks.  Japan is not as clean as you might imagine.  Apparently, all they do is sweep the detritus to the sides of the roads and let the cyclists throw it in the bin - after using their tyres to pick it up.

Anyway.  The wind put me behind schedule, the puncture kicked my schedule in the balls and ran off with its' wallet.

Having finally made it to Ashikaga, I went to get on the train.  Except, as it turns out, bikes aren't allowed on trains.

What the fuck kind of logic is that?  In a country that relies on trains and bikes, to have them be mutually exclusive is bonkers.  It's batshit crazy.  I can understand them being barred in rush hour, but when there are a dozen others on the train, it's simply insane.  Mental.  Crazy.  Exceedingly frustrating.

Before I carry on, and before I forget, I feel it apt to mention how I found the station in the first place.  A trio of extremely nice middle school kids helped me.  We chatted in broken Japlish, and they went out of their way to help me find the station, despite themselves living some way off.

I'm sitting here, smiling at my misfortune, and, now, extremely calm.  Primarily because of the people who helped me.  I love the fact that I can try little adventures like this, have everything go wrong, and still smile.  This is due to the people of this country and I often wonder if they realise how blessed they are with regards to these kinds of small incidents.

The situation right now:  My bike is twenty-five kilometres away in Ashikaga, where it will spend the night.  Tomorrow, I will pick it up.  Now, the ride their was actually quite fun, but the wind is forecast to continue tomorrow and as all bike riders know, it magically changes direction on the return leg, to once again impede progress.  So here's my plan:  I'm going to take the front wheel off, sling the bike over my shoulder and take it on the train as carry on luggage.

Fuck stupid rules.  Stupid rule - simple bypass.

The downside of today is monetary.  In the morning I purchased fifty quids worth of university textbooks, and this debacle is going to set me back around fifty five more.  (A tenner or so for the multiple train journeys, forty for the meal, five for the cakes and chocolate I bought to console myself on the way home.)

Tomorrow is going to be a busy day, dismantling and remantling my bike.

And now the cathartic experience is complete, and that was my day.

Fuck.

I was feeling particularly artsy the other day, so I made this picture.

It's a high-def resolution desktop I'm currently using.  Feel free to use it.  Please ask me before redistributing.

The Wedding

So we had to get up extremely early in order to go to this wedding.

We were up at around 10 AM!

Unbelievable right?

When we arrived the bride was waiting in a small room.  She was already doled up and looking rather nervous.

On a side-note, the venue we were in consisted of four separate wedding areas.  Are they chapels?  I don't know.

Each area had two weddings, totaling eight.  I don't know how much each wedding cost, but I think it's a fair assumption that they make an awful lot of money!

On a personal note, I rather like this picture.  This is the groom (is that how you spell it?  I've never read about, willingly listened to or thought  about a wedding before, so I've not a single clue about wedding terminologies.) amid the sea of chaos that is his wedding.

I'd never met either of them before, but they're awesome.  (I went with Amanda, who knew the bride from her previous job.)

I don't know what the groom is looking at *ahem*.

The man in the picture is the official photographer.

I was the unofficial photographer.

I wanted to show you the camera he was holding, and at some stage link the camera I was using.  Serious penis envy.

I wanted to get in close for this picture, but then you miss the psychadelic background and their literally perfect attire.

I know people go to all kinds of trouble to get the perfect look for their wedding, but jees, this must have taken hours to put on.

Not the hair though, Koreans love making their hair look like this every day.  (It's the same with the Japanese!)

There were some obligatory cutesy photographs.

Interestingly they both work with foreigners, I believe teaching English (don't quote me on that) so their views are quite progressive.

Therefore this display of Asian cute was rather embarrassing for all involved, but I guess the real photographers picture was good enough.

If I had access to a computer with some kahoonas I would edit the following orange images, levelling the colour balance and making them substantially less orange.

On the flip side, I enjoy these pictures because of the way in which their standing, and general composition.

I took a few different shots at different zoom levels to try and find what worked best.

The further out you go with the zoom, the more distorted things look.  This is obvious (look at the crazy toppling buildings you see with small numbers on your own cameras!) in theory, but leads to some complicated effects in practice.  I guess the difficulty comes in knowing when to use these different properties and when not to.

Another shot with Amanda and the bride.

I probably should have placed them both central - something I could do in post using any photo editing software.

If only I had a computer!

Now this is the real reason I agreed to take photographs!

Korean hanbok (sp?) is the traditional clothing in Korea.  Unlike Japan however, you rarely, if at all, see people wearing them.  Just like Japan they're extremely expensive; unlike Japan they're somewhat plainer albeit more frilly.  To clarify, I mean plainer colour wise.)

After talking to the bride for a few minutes, I realised what this recessed cave actually was.

It's a picture frame!

This would work a little better if your eye wasn't immediately pulled through the illusion to whomever is sitting inside; as the frame requires a wider perspective.

Nice idea though!

Being forced to sit for hours on end must be tedious; but there were no shortage of people on hand to ensure not a single strand of hair was misplaced.

I'm serious.  It was immaculate.  Perfect.  Whenever a hair fell out of place, three people jumped up to correct it.

Having never been to a wedding myself, this was the first time I'd seen the procession.  (Is it called that?  I honestly don't know)

I'm not entirely sure what was happening, but someone (presumably her dad?) walked with the bride to the altar, a lot of talking was done, and then everyone left.  (There were a number of photographs taken not including the man and wife.)  (I assume they're man and wife at this point, and not simply bride and groom?)

This was the best part!

The food was pretty nice, but I was forbidden from taking the free beer that was on offer home.  It was three PM, and I simply couldn't stomach the thought of drinking then; so I wanted to take a few bottles (that no one else was drinking either) home.  I was told off.

I wasn't told off by staff or bouncers or anyone official - but by my date.  How very galling.

In a random segway, here is a woman on the wii fit.

We went Christmas shopping after the wedding, and they were advertising the wii fit.

I've seen this thing in four different countries now, and the buxom wenches always wear the same thing.

I wonder if they ship the clothes around the world to save buying new ones for all the people who do displays for them.

She wasn't exactly enthralled by her positions as head performer of monotonous tasks, but she was good.

Really good.

How good?

See if you can do the 'stand on one leg while bringing your other leg up to your chest and holding it there for five seconds,' routine and get a score this good.

I defy anyone to.

Above:  A random building that looked cool, lit up like that.

This is a random picture I took of Amanda looking out of the window on the bus.  The  bus ride was looooooooong, so there was tons of time to mess around taking pictures and generally annoying the Koreans - who think it's a national crime for a Korean person to date a foreigner.

Interestingly, she's not Korean.  The dumbass Korean folk can't see outside of their little country though, and assume everyone who looks asian is Korean.  Statistically speaking, they're more likely to be chinese.

Learn some maths please, Korea.

This is the disfigured cake that was eaten afterwards.

There should be an extra ear and paw, but I got hungry and started eating.

I was rather enamored with this particular cake, hence the multitude of pictures.

The pink tasted like strawberries!

 

And finally a picture of the happy couple and an intruding presence.  They changed from their wedding garb to these matching, traditional  hanbok in record time.  I'm told that some weddings can necessitate four or five clothing changes, depending on which religion(s) they're choosing to observe.  I suppose your best bet is to always appease as many gods as possible; especially with divorce rates being what they are now.

Who Made me Fat? You Did, you Fat Cow.

Thank you for giving me something to write about, dumb blonde BBC presenter.

The first half of that sentence is the name of the programme, and the dumb blonde in questions name is... Actually I don't care.  To give her name is to validate her existence.

Anyway; she was amazed to find that more offers are placed on junk food than other foods.  This is simple economics...  The thing that makes you the most money is the thing that goes fastest through your doors, volume is the name of the game in supermarkets, as it is with most industries.  To put offers on products that sell the highest volume (and are therefore most profitable) is merely catering for an obese market.

Morrisons was the butt of this particular programme.  In a presenter like tone, an amazing 62% of Morrisons products promoted in deals are high in sugar or salt!  Literally amazing!


Actually no it isn't.  38% of their products are not unhealthy, and these are the products no one buys, and are also presumably the perishable items.  Such a large percentage of healthy foods frankly, amazes me.  By percentage of food we actually eat that should be around 5%.

I wonder if this woman writes this stuff herself.  I would have more respect for her if she were simply a politician-like puppet, strings pulled by the BHA or somesuch health organisation.

AND APPARENTLY EATING TOO MUCH SUGAR CAUSES OBESITY!  That's amazing.  And that's also a direct quote.  She was amazed to find this out.  All I can say is this:

Jesus Christ.

Yeah she's moderately attractive, but still, she couldn't hold a conversation with a five year old.  To quote another fantastic and mentally stimulating televisual series, 'snog, marry or avoid,' she is a definite 'snog.'

She's goddamned stupid.

Jesus.

Seriously.

Oh and she is a normal sized person, blaming all of lifes problems on someone else, getting people to lobby against food giants, because all human beings are incapable of looking after themselves.

And I'm going to end with a direct quote: 'oh no, it appears the public health minister is leaving the responsibility of our diets in our hands.'

OH NO I CANNOT HANDLE THE PRESSURE, THE STRESS.  When I get stressed I usually eat junk foo... Shit.  I'm going to die of obesity.  Why doesn't the government make only healthy foods available for purchase.  Oh, and while you're at it, I want a government sponsored person to cut up my food... Oh wait, while they're there they can feed me too.  Brilliant.  Problem solved.

Bye bye.

A Day of Temples and Eating.

So the day after we had arranged to meet with a monk and sort his garden out; we arranged to go sightseeing with the same monk and uparupa.  We were chauffered around by another man this time.  Thank you driver-san!

So anyway; this day was really good, the large number of people meant everyone was always smiling and being silly which is the recipe for a good day in my books.

We visited a large shrine area, the name of which eludes me at this point; but I was finally shown how to pray properly.  Of course James monk was the one to show me how, so by havnig a monk show me I think I'm safe to practice in front of others.  If a monk can't show me the right way to pray, then who can?

After the walking around and photography we walked around a small shopping square and someone bought some tea; I bought some ice cream and snacks and then we headed off to dinner.

Pictures of which are below.

Needless to say, I ate a lot that day... An awful lot...

I've not read a single newspaper, or watched a single English language news report since I've been here.

I had a little spare time before we headed out, and the first headline I read is one that makes me want to cry.

No, don't reform the diet to include English style campaign financing laws...  *sigh*

There seem to be a lot of small roads following the major river that runs through Kyoto, (the name of which escapes me at the moment, maybe the Kamogawa, I'm not sure.) and none of them seemed to have any safety barriers.  They're all single track too, which means the whole sensation of driving along these types of roads is extremely free.  I doubt anyone who's sober goes off the edge, and the roads here seem pretty safe overall.  I've only seen one accident, and both cars seemed fine.  I.e, The crash occurred at some traffic lights at four miles per hour.

This is just after the entrance to the temple grounds.

It transpires that the difference between a shrine and a temple is down to which religion the grounds belong to.  If it's Buddhist, it's a temple.  If it's Shinto, it's a shrine.  When you're at a shrine the process for worshipping is slightly different as well.

For the first time in my life, I'm interested in religious goings on.  However, I'm still only really interested in the processes, results of monk based labour and the architecture.  (How to pray properly and looking at the amazing gold statues thinking, 'bloody hell that must have taken a lot of money and time to make.')  I've never been much interested in religion; but a good temple, monastery or cathedral is always worth a look!

This building looked good from every single angle.  We tried, and failed, to find a single position that was ugly or strange.  It sits perfectly in the landscape and blends perfectly with the water.

The lake surrounding the temple also provides a fantastic reflection.  It's a little difficult to see in this photo, but when the sun peeks out from behind a cloud the whole scene is reflected by the water, creating the illusion of there being another world hidden somewhere inside this temple.

It's wabi-sabi!

Yeah; try and explain that to a belgian while walking around a temple...

I couldn't!

Beauty in unrefined things?  Maybe?

Fallen leaves on a path?  That kind of thing?

I have no idea how to explain it, primarily because I've only got my own interpretation of what it means; I've never been taught its' meaning.

The same temple from a different angle.  We were too late to see inside, which is a bit of a shame because this seems like a building that would be as interesting on the inside as the outside.

It also has a cool little bridge running over the water, in the classical Japanese style.  Well, classical as we think of it in the West I suppose.  They do have a large number of them here though, so maybe it's not a misguided preconception for a change.

It's a little dark, but in this picture you can see the reflection I mentioned earlier.

The sky was a really fantastic colour on this day, and the clouds looked as if they had been painted with a thick calligraphy brush; so the whole image was pretty much perfect.

My camera kept struggling with the contrast between light and dark places though, so some pictures are horrifically over-exposed, and some are under-exposed.

I really like this picture, despite it being too dark.  You can see the type of clouds I was talking about earlier; and the surrounding trees reflections' are really nice.

This is one of the mental image of Japan I held before coming here, and I'm glad to be able to say I managed to capture that view.

Still water is everywhere here, so I've seen this picture in a number of places - I've just not been able to capture it!

This is taken from the same place, but looking at the temple building.

With a greater emphasis on the sky this time!

From right to  left:  Uparupa-chan, James Monk, Driver-san.

The rest are just random tourists, but I liked how everyone was in a semi-circle and could therefore be seen by the camera.

Driver-san had an awesome camera; but it's a few models below the one I want.

(But don't tell him I said that!)

A final picture of that amazing temple.

Sorry about the large number taken of a single building!

Ok so one more picture of that building...

So I took about fifteen photographs trying to get the sun setting on this bell, but none of them were any good.  So you'll have to settle for this picture of the roof of the belltower (it's only a few mtres high) and a tree...

The sunset over one of the minor temple buldings.

Some of the skies here are fantastic colours, but often not very different to those we have in England.

I can definitely see why this is the land of the rising sun, with their 5AM sunrise and 5PM sunset every day, that does not seem to change.  But I don't think they have any more impressive sunsets than we do.  Maybe if I wake up at 5AM I'll see some really amazing sunrises.  But let's face it, something extremely special would have to happen in order for that to happen.

It's the J-CREW.  Here to fight crime and save the world.  Or something...

I honestly don't know how, but I told them to strike a pose and they all did it without even having to think.

There are some serious pose striking skills in Japan.  It's a skills base that I think is horribly underutilised within society.  I mean come on now, how awesome is this picture!  No planning!

A picture of a picture of a picture.

Being taken.

This took about five times longer to orchestrate than the strike-a-pose as seen above!

Modern art in action, folks!

The sign said, don't go down these stairs, and definitely don't go near the water.

He who dares wins.  And in this case, I won a good photograph of the river at dusk.

It's amazingly calm in this area, despite being relatively close to railway lines and roads.

He who dares, wins.  And maybe this man won a fish.  Who knows.

I wasn't going to wait around long enough to find out, my feet were wet and getting cold!

The sky at night.  Or dusk to be more precise.  But we can clearly see the vast space dedicated to this park; a rarity in the cities of Japan.

We can also just about see the three muskateers without whom, this journey would have been rendered impossible.

あろがとうおざいます！

After my ice-cream, chocolate bun and chocolate ice-cream snack, came this wonderful (if a little expensive) dinner.

It's a bit of a shame, but a family were eating opposite us, and thy had a small kid who kept waving and pulling faces at the big stupid looking foreigners.  To which I pulled faces back and whatnot; but the dad kept telling her off.  Just let the stupid idiot kid be stupid, he'll be crushed by society soon enough, and will no longer have the inclination to have any fun; it happens to everyone after all.

Itadakimasu!  Said before every meal.  Something akin to, thank you for the food.  It probably has a religious significance, but I'm not sure.














And that was the fun temple trip!

Thanks to everyone involved!  It was a really great day.