Fevers and Pizza

AM

Least: By 10:00am, the silence in my san-Rosie apartment was becoming too much. With a fever running my mind into madness, I wished I'd had someone to complain to. No-one in their right mind would be awake before 11:00am on a public holiday, so even complaint riddled sms messages weren't satisfactory. I settled on shouting at the pigeons and at the tear in the bin liner that let fishy juice out. I can see how isolation can drive people to madness.

Most: By 11:59pm, I looked back at my morning and found it as empty as possible for a public holiday. If I was serious, I would've at least had a hangover. The most interesting thing, unfortunately was that my cheesy phone alarm infiltrated a dream in which I was watching the moon landing from an incredibly high peak. The faux-classical music interrupted the guide just as he was saying "You can now see the vapour-trails - they're 2000 feet thick and...". I wonder what he was about to say. The alarm that robs me of sleep every morning, may also have robbed me of something interesting to write in this space.

PM

Least: Sometime after 1:00pm, I began the mind-numbing process of cleaning the house. For some reason our three-room cubby is the lintiest (the lint removing business is big in Japan) place on Earth. I'm not sure where it comes from, but I blame the previous occupants - they must've owned a lot of fleecy clothing or never vacuumed -probably both (I know who they are). Being without an effective mop, I settled on a soapy towel to clean the kitchen floor, an idea that turned out to be boring and backbreaking. The pain of cleaning briefly made me forget my raging fever but I'm still not sure which is worse.

Most: By 6:20pm, my mind was turning to pizza. After failing to understand the on-line ordering process, my eyes turned to my silver phone. The problem is that my Japanese is poor to the point that I can't really work out how to order food over the phone. The pizza-drive was strong enough though, for me to attempt a phone order from Dominos anyway. I'm sure the poor guy on the other end of the phone would've been groaning ("Oh dear, I got the foreigner") but I persisted. After some shockingly awkward pauses and flipping through the phrasebook, my conversation came to an end without an assurance of pizza. Amazingly, at 6:40pm, the pizza man arrived at the door carrying almost what I ordered - the only thing wrong was that I got a massive bottle of Coke instead of a Zero. The delivery man appeared to be asking me for a coupon, which I didn't have - so I paid through the nose. Incredible.

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Food Note: For lunch, I had a meal of pre-grilled sanma from yesterday's Life Supermaket experience. I heated it up in the fish-grill and soused it in ponzu dressing. The result was delicious and little different from the ones I bought fresh and cooked at home.

The Last Weekend in September

Sunday 27th September 2009

AM

Least: Just after 5:00am, I was jolted out of my fitful sleep by the first of perhaps a hundred tram rollbys for the day. If only the Japanese engineers could have made the track as smooth as the rail network so that my sleep would be left uninterrupted. The Melbourne-ish clunk of the wheels as they pass over the gaps in the rails has the effect of shaking Sanshou at its foundations. I have heard that the Uemachi tramline (see bizarred simulation right) has been in danger of closure in the past, only to be saved by nostalgic locals who apparently live nowhere near the wonky rails.



Most: At close to 9:30am, I finally added wireless internet to our flat after days of technlogical agony. I thought I'd give it one more try after a thought I had in the very early hours of the morning. My idea failed miserably, but an idiot's guide on the internet showed me how to set the wretched thing up in less that ten minutes. Amazingly, the shonky 'bloadband' router came to life gave our laptop new freedom. The triumph I felt literally left me punching the air. Amazing.

PM

Least: Just after 2:00pm,  I scoured Youtube for footage of one Brendan Fevola disgracing himself on national TV during the Brownlow telecast. He was clearly incredibly drunk and displaying the rank boganism that is so rife in the AFL. The most boring part of it will be his fellow players tut tut tutting about his behaviour even though most of them do the very same thing every weekend. Good one Brendan.

Most: Not too long after 1:00pm, I began the very satisfying process of cooking the Autumny meal of Sanma. A student told me how to make the dish a few weeks ago, and I watched carefully as Tee of Tee's Kitchen cooked one up for me. I bought two of the long silvery fish for 200 yen down at Life and prepared them according to the simple instructions. I scored one side of the fish, added plenty of salt then grilled them in the fish grill for a total of nine minutes. The result was spectacular (above) and I served them with grated daikon, ponzu dressing and a squeeze of kabosu. I'm now looking for a new cooking adventure.

Bogies at Nine O'Clock

Saturday 12 September 2009

AM

Least: Just after 9:30am, I boarded the JR Rapid at Mikunigaoka and sat in a seat reserved for people with ailments. This particular seat is at the rear of the carriage and is located directly above the bogies that roll the train to Wakayama. I have a faint memory of my Grandfather saying that you should never sit atop the train wheels because the ride is too rough. My half-hour experience between Mikunigaoka and Hineno proved this theory correct. I felt every bend, join and undulation of the train track, which at a glance looks futuristically smooth. As the train lurched incessantly, I was reminded of my sore neck and by the end of the trip its weakness had turned me into some kind of bobblehead. Thankfully I didn't experience nausea, despite the wild ride and the faintish smell of the toilets.

Most: At close to 8:10am, I peered out my kitchen window to see a filthy and wet pidgeon attempting to preen itself. The wetness of the pigeon told me that it was or had been raining outside. August seemed to be particularly dry and I was hoping for rain to wash summer down the drain. This morning, a constant drizzle freshened the streets, trees and gardens. Nearly an hour later, walking toward the station, I could actually smell the pine-ish fragrance of the gardens that grace the yards of the stinking rich. I also thought that the rain wold keep some of the Wakayama day-trippers off my morning train and free up some seats (see above). Thankfully, the day-trippers stayed home and I got to sit down.

PM

Least: Sometime after 5:37pm as my train left Wakayama station, I witnessed the ruthless musical chairs of the Kishuji Rapid. Because people are so desparate to sit alone, whenever a seat becomes available there is an undignified scramble to fill it. As people left the train at both Musota and Kii stations, people jumped to their feet to escape the horror of sitting next to another human being. The disappointment on people's faces when they just missed their chance at happiness was all too apparent and some of them had to return to their seats - the horror, the horror. I suppose it is forgivable given that personal in Japan is as such a premium but I'm sure that it doesn't need to be so cut-throat.

Most: Pretty close to 8:30pm, I walked into T's kitchen to relieve the agony of my hunger. After inhaling some doteyaki, octopus and several small glasses of beer, I came to the conclusion that I needed something more. A few days ago a student told me about the autumn culinary delight sanma, which is a longish silver fish a lot like a sardine which is grilled whole. T's Kitchen had one waiting for me. I pointed to the dead fish through the window of the counter and watched it grill. The final result was a very simple dish with some grated daikon and a cumquat. It was delicious and was not encumbered by the smaller bones which were edible. After my mauling, all that was left was the a cartoonish plate with the head, some stomach contents and a spine remaining. My next challenge will be to recreate the fishy experience at home in our fishgrill. Thanks T.