Waiting for Quakes

AM

Least: I woke at about 8:15am to find that the special kind of up-too-early boredem was upon me. Despite my glee at not being hungover, I found little entertainment in my eggs or the morning baseball-based anime. As a last resort I began skimming through this month's edition of London Review of Books. Not surprisingly, it was packed with incredibly pretentious writing about other pretentious writers and groanworthy poetry. I could write more about the contents of the magazine but would risk becoming a crashing bore.

Most: At about 10:30am, I was looking for information about today's matsuri festival when stumbled across the earthquakes section of the Sumiyoshi-ku website. The terrifying truth is that we are living on the Uemachi Fault system and it is predicted that within the next fifty years a massive subduction quake will smash the city and liquify its soils. The preparedness guide recommends hiding under a desk or pillow during the quake and highlights that fact that if you're on the toilet it's best to stay there as it's probably the safest part of the house. Thankfully, because we are on the fourth floor, we should be safe from the predicted tsunami when the quake strikes. I just hope I'm not in the shower  or suffering from a mid-shave goatee when our shakey friend arrives.

PM

Least: Sometime arounf 12:30pm, I rescued my bike from the station and spun up to the glossily advertised Tezukayama Matsuri. I groaned as the rag-tag group of stalls came into view. Out of date toys, worn clothes, shonky homemade games and very limited food greeted my eyes. Although it was clearly a community fundraising event, I felt misled by the high quality advertising that appeared in shop windows a couple of weeks ago. One rare highlight was the talent quest - we saw a four-ish year old girl in pink do a song n dance routine. The next best choice was Bikkuri Donkey.

Most: At about 1:35pm, Rosie and I left the largely boring Tezukayama festival and wheeled down the hill to Bikkuri Donkey. We thought we'd go for a laugh and a laugh is what we got. The crazed junk-yard style building and the bizarre interior only served to make the meal that we got even more interesting. I ordered a 300g hamburg (top of menu shown right) with exactly four chips and hot mayonnaised corn served on a bed of cooked onion and topped with a typically soggy ball of shredded daikon. The vast slab of minced New Zealand beef was only dwarfed by the imposing shuttered menu that looked down on us like a sentinel. I thought the meal was on the way to being repulsive, but with the use of corn kernals, it has to be considered an incredibly Japanese dish. It is amazing what people will pay to eat if it's served in cartoonish surroundings.

The Monster in the Pond vs Gatchaman

AM

Least: At around 9:25am I began thanking Japan for sparing me from political advertising on TV. Although the election is big news, it it restricted to the news-ish programs. The downside however, is the rash of shouting vans that smite us from all angles. Most often, the occupants are white-gloved and waving to nobody in particular in a cartoony manner. Another sign is the clutches of men strolling the streets chanting chants and carrying yellow banners. Despite these attempts though, there seems no danger of election fever. I'm yet to speak to someone who thinks that either of the big parties will make any difference.

Most: At 10:50am, Rosie and I pedalled north towards the flea market at the Shitennoji Temple. On the way we made a very brief detour to look at the Matsumushi Zuka that apparently is still shaded by an 800 year old tree. As it turns out we were travelling up part of the Kumano Road which people have been treading for over 1000 years. Amazing, but not quite as amazing as the 5th Century burial mound near our local station or the monster that used to lurk in Mandai Ike (above) until it was banished in the 6th Century. Wow.

PM

Least: At 3:58pm, an ongoing problem with our washing machine sucked the little interest that was left out of the third hour after twelve. It's been boringly misfiring since the morning when a man in billowing pants and a do-rag appeared in our window and insisted that we move the infernal machine indoors. Three days later we shifted it back to the freshly painted balcony. The washing machine was evidently unimpressed and has been slightly less than automatic ever since. One day the incessant beeping will send it over the edge and onto the tram tracks.



Most: By about 12:10pm, my neck was being seared as we strolled around the flea market at Shitennoji. The number of stalls was vast as was the range of items for sale. Some of the more notable pieces of clutter were, ivory carvings, prehistoric stone tools, dismembered samurai armour, ancient ceramics, pipes, a flintlock gun, endless tools, buttons, cooked entrails, tiny fish and unwearable clothes. I settled on a piece of rank nostalgia - a board game depicting what we called G-Force but was called 'Kagaku ninja tai Gatchaman' in Japan. It is still in its packet complete with dice. How the game is meant to be played I'll never know.