The Rush of Rush Hour

AM

Least: At 9:45am, I surfaced in Kyoto after walking for several hundred metres underground in an unknown direction. The smug blandness of the shops above meant that a few minutes later, I was walking straight past my destination. By the time I asked a tissue-man the directions, I had walked seven hundred metres too far. It was not the first or second time I have been lost in Kyoto - it was the third. There is something strange about the orientation of the city that I just can't put my finger on - it's probably just me. I'm yet to love Kyoto.

Most: By 8:20am, I was being swept along with the wild Osaka rush hour (see stolen photo). Even on my local train, a constant ribbon of people walked through the train to get to the first carriage in the hope of saving a few precious seconds. By the time I reached underground the ribbon had turned into a wide black suited flood of people clopping along in their dress-shoes. Most people seemed to be in robotic mode as if they make that same dash to work every day - I'm sure they do. When I reached the Midosuji platform at Namba, thousands of people were waiting patiently in line to board the next train. Seconds after stepping into the carriage, people began pushing themselves after me and I was helplessly moving with the crush. At the first stop I only saw one person step out of the train  - four or five joined the mayhem.

PM

Least: By 5:20ish, I was trudging back through the Midosuji station beneath Namba. Although my head was down, I heard my name being called by a strangely familiar Japanese voice. It was my boss from one of my schools. Immediately after some minor pleasantries, she began piling on the pressure for me to attend a drinks party for work on Saturday night. I replied with a lot of erring and mighting then went on my way. Thankfully, I have far more interesting plans for Saturday night which will make it impossible to attend the threatened work function.

Most: Some time after 8:00pm, Rosie and I walked in to the previously mentioned T's Kitchen. We planned to stay for a single drink and a snack, however, it wasn;t long before events overwhelmed us. Just as I as emptying what I assumed would be my last beer, a middle-aged Japanese guy in the corner piped up. The first thing he said to Rosie was aimed at detecting her marital status. As it turned out, the man was a real estate agent and had to of his minoins with him. In the hour and a half that followed, we spoke to the three agents and drank more and more beer. For some reason the agents insisted on buying us sashimi. The food, though was to no avail and did not prevent the beer hitting its target with devestating accuracy. It was a long and windy trip home.

The Smell of Old Books and the Stink of Routine

AM

Least: By 11:40am, it was clear that once again I would not leave the house before midday. Outside it is raining, and it's slant looks as if it might foil even the broadest umbrella. The relaxing routine of stirring at eight, eggs at nine some reading at ten then a shower at eleven has really set in for the lang haul. I really need to force myself out for a walk to at least give me something interesting to write about.

Most: At about 10:00am, I picked up a book that had arrived in the mail from England yesterday. On a whim, I had fairly cheaply bought Ford Madox Hueffer's Hans Holbein the Younger. While I have absolutely no interest in Mr Holbein, the book as an obect itself left me very satisfied. The book was reissued in 1914 and for the most part looks new and has that special aroma that reminds me of my other books sitting in boxes in Drouin. The gilt is still shiny and the tissue covering the plates is immaculate after ninety-five years of living on someone's shelf. Who at Duckworth in 1914 would have suspected that their book would've ended up sitting on a shelf in a Tezuakayama flat? I just hope it survives the humidity to last another ninety-five years.

PM

Least: At approximately 5:35pm, I answered a phone at work. It told me that I was going to be working in Kyoto tomorrow. I will arrive and leave early and I predict that around 5:00pm tomorrow I will be once again lost at JR station in Umeda. Today, I noticed that a disturbing pattern is developing, with a terrifying phone call arriving to haunt me at the same time every Tuesday. The knowledge that I need to get up early in the morning fills each lost minute with sorrow, for soon enough, the next tick of the clock with be my alarm going off.


大きな地図で見る

Most: At around 11:00pm, I was busy trying to plot my journey to the Hokage Open Air festival at Tamagawa in Yamanashi. Pinpointing the town closest to the festival site involved decoding kanji, scrolling through maps and reviewing bullet train times. Hopefully, we will still be able to buy tickets for the train. Thankfully, Rosie spoke enough Japanese to ensure that we will sleep in a bungalow and not in some windswept tent. I still hope the rain stays away. It will be an interesting night.