When Potato Meets Chocolate

Saturday 17th October 2009

AM

Least: At 9:13am, I stepped onto my train after walking the one hundred metres necessary to alight at Mikunigaoka close to the transfer gate. To my disappointment, I noted a blue and white sticker on the windows telling me that it was a 'Mildly Airconditioned' carriage (photo pending). The air inside the train was tepid, and neither warm or cold enough to register a response from my nervous system. I can just imagine the lobby group in days gone by who hectored the Nankai Electric Railway until they agreed to include a super boring carriage for every journey forever.


大きな地図で見る

Most: Close to 9:20am, my tepid train carriage clacked across the artificial section of the Yamato river. Below, I could see the vast sandy river edge dotted with people up early for their Saturday activities. To the right were the usual radio controlled airplane group, who, every Saturday fly their electric machines in crazy loops and crazier landings. Almost under the bridge, was an oldish man practicing his chip-shots. He had dug his own sand-bunker and was squelching in its bottom hitting an orange golfball. He'll no doubt be there next week.

PM

Least: At about 12:10pm, I was reminded of the dubious nature of commercial education. My boss mentioned to me that re-sign rates for the school were really bad and that a particular student was not really enjoying learning English. I understood then, that it was my job to make her enjoy it and in turn encourage her to re-sign. I sure that, being an 11 year old, she doesn't have too much sway in her family's financial decisions. Learning English is expensive.


Most: Just after 4:00pm, I was offered the strangest snack I have yet seen in Japan. It came from a box of  Royce Potato Chip Chocolates. The snack consisted of salty potato chips with a crinkle cut, smothered in rich chocolate. Bizarrely, is was delicious and by 5:00pm I had eaten far too many. Given the appalling levels of fat contained in these delights, I contend that they should be strictly a once in a lifetime experience. I think they came from Hokkaido.

The Importance of Being Idle

AM

Least: Close to 8:30am, I waded through another short chapter of Nick's And the Ass Saw the Angel. Given his admirable rant on prolix, it is easy (and uninteresting) to begin groaning at the incredible purpure of his writing. He manages to create an interesting atmosphere of disgust impending terror but it's far too self conscious. At the very least, someone should've convinced dear Nick to remove every single use of ah and may for I and my. Nothing a pair of scissors can't fix.

Most: Just after 11:15am I sat on the front verandah drinking steaming black tea in the sun. Being idle seems to be an important feature of my time in the hills. Being idle gives me a chance to persevere with wordy books, examine possible fossils, bake by the fire, digest, cook, stare blankly or simply revel in being part of an idyll. This morning, I poached, read and resisted reading more of And the Ass Saw the Angel, drank tea, fed the magpies and currawongs, spied on superb fairy wrens, looked inside an interesting stone, lit the fire and watched darkening clouds change and drift by. Ideal, but I won't even try to explain it to my more earnest, everywhere, early rising inquisitors.

PM

Least: Sometime around 2:30pm, I inadvertently glanced at some daytime television. The appalling sound capturing every rustle of clothing, every smack of lips and every boring breath took me straight back to memories of days sick at home crawling by. Today's monstrosity seemed to consist of ghosts and flashbacks. Simply awful.

Most: At about 7:15pm I began thinking about my last day in the country and my return to Osaka. This town is almost the exact opposite of my like in Tezukayama. It is cold, completely uncrowded, people only speak English, read hair is common, sashimi is unobtainable and I don't have to work strange hours. This short diversion from my life in Japan will no doubt make Osaka even more bizarre and interesting. Tomorrow back to Melbourne.