The Clampdown

Following on from blocking YouTube a few weeks ago, the Thai government has now blocked all blog sites. I can no longer access my own blog, unless I do it from abroad (thanks Brian!). Word on the streets is of another coup on Wednesday. Darn.

The Natives are Friendly

Some things about Japan matched my preconceptions; the trains run to the second, the food resembles a work of modern art, and the red/green crossing man is universally obeyed. What I wasn't expecting was the sheer friendliness of the people of Kyushu. As well as the unfailing politeness, which the stereotype suggests, we experienced a lot of warmth and friendship on our travels. From the strangers in the villages who insisted we try their food, to the students in the city keen to teach us Japanese drinking games. From the elderly Nagasaki woman randomly welcoming us to her city to the kind driver who picked up two bedraggled hitch-hikers and utilised his satellite navigation to drop us exactly where we wanted. Lovely people.

Bullet Train

Shinkansen

I remember always wanting to go on one of these as a kid.

A Crater Too Far

Don't go down there

We strike out into the wilderness, attacking the Kirishima volcano chain. On paper, it looks like we can traverse the mountains in a day, reaching a village on the other side in good time for tea and medals. However, the lure of descending into one of the craters is too strong, and we leave the path to pick our way through the bamboo jungle. What looks easy from afar turns out to be ridiculously tough going; at points, we're forced to swing between trees to make any headway. Hours later, we eventually make it down from the hills, arriving too late to sort accomodation. But a kindly man takes pity on us, and gives us blankets and a hut to sleep in. It's more remote than we thought; the next day we resort to hitching our way out, and back into civilisation.

Unwelcome to Japan

Am currently in the station awaiting Julius's arrival on the bullet train, having just spent 2 remarkably stressful hours courtesy of Japanese immigration. It's that old 'address where staying' problem on the immigration form. Arriving in a foreign country, I seldom have a clue where I'll be staying. Normal practice is to insert a random hostel from the guidebook, but I don't have one. So I leave it blank. Big mistake. I'm dragged from the queue into the interrogation suite.
At times such as this, my policy is to always tell the truth; these guys will pull any fabrication apart. The problem is my story began to seem implausible even to me.
"No, I don't know where I'll be staying - I'm meeting a friend"
"No, I didn't bring my phone (GSM phones don't work), or have any other means of contacting him"
When pressed, I produced my sole piece of evidence of my intentions - a scrap of paper with 'Hakata Station 10am' written on it.
"But Hakata Station is a huge place"
"Yes, but we're used to winging it"
"Your story makes no sense to me"
After an hour of this, he was clearly distraught that there was still nothing to write in the box. But deoprtation would be too much effort, and after a profuse apology on my part, I was waved through.
By this time, arrivals was completely vacated. Sauntering alone through the Customs Hall, I was an obvious suspect. Another run through my implausible story, and an intimate search of my bag. At least I got to keep my clothes on.

The Route Less Travelled

It's clearly not a popular destination. It's a night flight, and I have rows 1 through 5 all to myself - lucky me. The stewardess kindly helps me to collect all 30 pillows, and plies me with red wine to ensure a sound night's sleep.

Enola Gay

Jules gets in contact and mentions he's in Japan for a conference. I check RyanAir's website and am delighted to see I can get cheap flights to Japan. OK, so in common with many budget airlines, they don't fly to the major hubs; curiously, their only 2 destinations are Hiroshima & Nagasaki. Obviously, I book a ticket right away.

Workers Unite

Today is International Workers' Day. Amusingly, it is also the day my contract ends and I find myself unemployed. Next steps are unclear. But life is always more interesting when the future is unknown.