The Place

As you probably gathered, On The Road has fallen distinctly quiet for some time now. I haven't been in a particularly good place to write; personally, nor other-ly, let's say. Even a sentence which I don't want to bin immediately simply cannot be conjured like a rabbit. But hope has returned favour (for me at least and less so for you) as I would appear to have re-found The Place.

The Place (noun): a place where I don't write, but the words come to me.

In the last couple of years I've had the fortune that The Place was easy to find. In Japan, it was the train between my town, Shiroishi, and Sendai. Every other day I took the train to the city for some kind of social call and, when I wasn't getting a head start with a train beer or two or nestling into the seat drunken dozing, I was writing. The first time I took the train from Shiroishi into Sendai I was with a girl; also recently moved to Shiroishi, also Asian, also called Jenny. The road into Shiroishi had been undeniably less stimulating, we burned tarmac in my supervisor's car, passing small concrete boxes and road signs which my hangover ignored. (cheers guys, you know who you are). That week as I settled into the country life, I became increasingly aware of how small Shiro is. Coming straight from a massive city (the Glasgow metropolitan area has a population of 2 million), I was rather bored. Jen and I decided that what we needed was a bit of human interaction. The week we arrived was also the week during which one of the biggest festivals of the Tohoku region was taking place. Straight after work we jumped on the first train to the Tanabata festival. Jumped is perhaps the wrong verb to use here as the linguistic ordeal of buying a train ticket was a definite hindrance. But soon enough we were sitting down on a train. If you have ever watched Hayao Miyazaki's Spirited Away (if not, I don't like you any more), you probably remember the seating plan on the train. The seats are not arranged like an ordinary train in the UK, with short rows of two or three seats on either side of the carriage, separated by a gangway. Instead, the seats in some trains in Japan are set vertically along the carriage. Not much seating space, but clearly more efficient for a game of sardines. As the train departed we saw pieces of the village we would soon call home. Tiny cardboard houses and rusty ramen signs suddenly gave way to a river riding east, rice paddies populated by hungry cranes, and the hills which bordered them, breathing damp mist.

We passed in unbroken silence.

Of course, as I became better aquainted to the scenery and the respectability of train beer, I became less bewildered on the train. Yet the serenity remained, and became the backdrop for at least 70% of the poetry which I wrote in Japan.

But not all train journeys are quite as productive for writing. The journey from Sendai to Nagano for example. Clocking over 11 hours on local trains, I didn't even write a limerick. Neither did I write on the tracks from Tsuruoka to Shiga (in 2 days I racked up 20 hours of train time). I did, however, write a response to an article about being a guilty 'flyjin' foreigner in post-tsunami-quake-nuclear disaster Japan which was published in the Daily Yomuri. On my phone.

The Transiberian too, despite the ridiculous journey time. I managed only to craft the bare bones of the idea for a play which I have yet to write. The difficulty being, it just wasn't The Place.

Thinking back to Paris, I had so much artistic competition. It was complete immersion; from the ghosts of writers who had starved on Rue Montorgueil, to my contemporaries who arrived on a dream of little more than a 11m2 studio shared with a stray cat and too many coffee grounds. The last flat I found myself squatting in (thanks again Love, I miss you so much), I spent most of my time in some kind of stupor with film makers, travellers, painters, philosophers, bartenders, and chefs. And a lecturer of economics. That's perhaps why the writing was effortless. The life I had there lent itself well to writing, I was permanently stimulated by my bizarre life as a penniless, homeless writer.

The struggling artist. Some clichés are just true.

Fight and Be Happy

There are few places which have left an impression so deep I hate to think why I left in the first place. Japan still glitters with memories, people, smells which I miss.

Sometimes I believe it is all to do with the earthquake. But I still find it difficult to talk about. I reason with myself that nobody understands. On a bad day I find myself blaming the media. As I watched houses cascading into the ocean, journalists turned up on our doorsteps by the cargo load, scavenging for sorrow. News reported that the end of the world was nigh. And I, in the midst of it all, was subject to phone call after phone call, demanding I come home.

I began writing to document my story of the earthquake. I don't for a minute think it is worth your pity. But I hope that by breaking the 9.0 into pieces, thoughts, interactions, experiences, you might understand us better.

I'd like to say that Japan, despite what you heard about Fukushima, earthquakes, tsunamis, Godzilla, anything else which might deter you from going... Japan remains the safest country to which I have ever been. Japan, the Tohoku region, Miyagi and Fukushima prefectures in particular, still need your support (Disaster In Figures on the BBC) and tourism. If you worry about radiation, all I can tell you now that I am yet to grow a third kidney (I lived 60km from Dai ichi Power plant). But perhaps this report by the BBC will put you at ease.

To make a monetary donation try this website. 

And finally, I have to say thank you again to Otake-sensei, Shiho, Jonathan, Jen, Corey, V, Aido, Johnny, Mides, Clodagh, Andrew, Adele, Ceely, Ro-ro, Jeremy and Shiroishi BoE. 

Jenni Yau updated her status

9 March at 18:46

"my favourite animal is cats. i have a cat. the cat's name is daijiro. i like him because he is a big cat. daijiro has a girlfriend. i must give him food. thank you."

Aftershock

Rumbling

From sail to sail

長い長い!

They croak

beneath steel desks.

At 3am.

And at 6.

6:27.

I roll over.

Jenni Yau updated her status

10 March at 07:52

“'What lies, we had 3 6.something quakes last night! I hope this isn't like, a warm up for the big one or something... I mean it is allegedly due...”

Graduation. 

'Last time

Jenni-sensei.

Will you marry me?'

The last school song

See you forever, they say.

Now home.

in my pillow

For a mid afternoon nap.

The cradle begins

To rock,

Again.

I wait to

Let it pass.

Open eyes

In time

For the 

Crash.

The room shatters

We smack

TVs against crockery

Shipwrecked

On rugged shore

Scramble

To the doldrums

Under the doorframe

I observe, 

wait

watch.

Matchsticks

In a box

I am lucky.

Only broken glass,

and

a suicidal microwave to report.

My first thought

Went to the kitchen

which I cleaned

Just yesterday.

My neighbour

(Age three)

Asks what happened.

But I haven't yet read

Japanese for Earthquakes.

Jenni Yau updated her status

11 March at 14:58

"Holy christ that was a big un. all my shit is now on the floor"

Back to work

for the shock

Battling

snow

and falling glass.

We がんばっろう

One ear to ground

7.9

8.4

8.8

Figures creep higher

As we do

Through the wailing school

8.9

What news?

Tsunami...

Silence falls

Twenty miles from shore.

Stephen Yau wrote on your wall

Wing Yun Yau wrote on your wall

Yuk Hung Yau wrote on your wall

Rachel Ng wrote on your wall

Nestor Iwanowicz Machno sent you a message

11 March 2011 at 18:23

Hey,

I'm sorry to bother you, as I'm a stranger, but I've seen your comment on Sam Rosenblums wall, and it indicates that you're in Japan at the moment?

I know Sam very briefly, I'm just a good friend of his good friend. But I'm also a journalist from Poland, and my newspaper is preparing an article about the quake in Japan. I need a few quotes from the people, that are at the spot. Could you please help me out?

If you could write very briefly about how you felt during the quake, what your first thoughts were, what is the life on the streets looking like, and how are the people around you acting, I would be extremely gratefull.

Or maybe, if the phones are working again, could you please pass me your number, so that I could phone you?

Or course, if you don't want to be quoted in the newspaper for any reason, I perfectly understand that, and in that case I'm sorry for bothering you.

Cheers, ...
(that's my real name, the Facebook one is a fake)

Joma West wrote on your wall

Scott Graham Strachan wrote on your wall

Adam Matheson wrote on your wall

Raymond Q Smuckles wrote on your wall

The gaijin union

We are only three.

Seek companions in the dark

Refuge

With students

And strawberries.

Samea Khan wrote on your wall

Peter Wright wrote on your wall

Kirsty Halliday wrote on your wall

Thundering through the gym

Clockwork silence.

Sam Wood wrote on your wall

Adam Wilson wrote on your wall

A generator bursts

Basketball nets quiver in lamplight

Now we see

Whose children cry.

Gregg Francis sent you a message

Sacha Seeruthun wrote on your wall

Steven Watt wrote on your wall

Alan Inkster wrote on your wall

Stuart Dalgliesh wrote on your wall

Hazel Mckendrick wrote on your wall

Joma West wrote on your wall

The morning after

still 2:46

A murmur.

9.0

Stephen Yau wrote on your wall

12 March at 17:26

“I've put you on the Foriegn Embassy's missing persons register...i can't find your mobile number ..i've only got your home number...mum and Yun aren't home or something....bt already asked mum, she'll pass it to me soon.. which evacuation centre are you at?”

Jenni Yau updated her status

12 March at 21:37

"Hey all, thanks for the lovely messages but worry not, I am safe and dry. I live in the mountains so I avoided the tsunami havock but because its rural I have no water or leccy. If someone wouldnt mind donating eother or some jaffa cakes it would be much appreciated."

Clodagh Power wrote on your wall

12 March 2011 at 23:23

"hey jenni have you heard from adele? her family are really worried..."

We four

clasp torches.

The room wobbles

Jonathan snores.

Stephen Yau wrote on your wall

13 March at 06:17

“ok, big earthquake, 30ft tsunami, over 1000 dead/missing, and most damage is around miyagi where you stay - i must have been crazy to panic.. i've notified the embassy. As for jaffa cakes, i'll send you a whole box on condition that you just stay where you are in the hills, and give us a minimum ten word daily update...starting with "I'm ok".”

No light

We cook

By heartbeat

My microwave jumped

Jon's cupboard,

ducked for cover

A boat knocked

on Anna's door.

Everyone saw it

The whirlpool.

Jenni Yau updated her status

13 March 2011 at 11:41

"If anyone has heard from Anna can you let me know? And if anyone wants to contact me my phoneline works but still no electricity or water so... Might go out to get some so dont panic if I don't a answer. 0224 24 5227"

Relatives, not mines.

Ask about grandaughters, brothers, cousins.

I know nothing,

Beyond my village limits

Joma West wrote on your wall

13 March 2011 at 20:23

Btw in case you're retarded and didn't get the message keep the updates rolling in as often as possible. You'll get your jaffa cakes when you come back. Present pile.

Fukushima;

A byword

For disaster.

Stephen Yau wrote on your wall

13 March 2011 at 21:01

"Jennifer, I've just heard on news of a second explosion at the Fukushima nuclear plant, if you're at home in Shiroishi you're less than 30 miles away from it. The BBC reports that Road side security have imposed a 60km evacuation zone, Which puts you in the middle of it. You'll need to leave Shiroishi and go with emergency services to an evacuation centre much further away, its not safe. You're home phones engaged but will keep trying. Staying at home isn't safe, so you and your friends should leave asap. Stay with emergency services where you'll be safe.

Still 2:46.

At least

I'm not late for work

Stephen Yau wrote on your wall

13 March 2011 at 21:54

"The second explosion has not happened yet, but there is a threat of it happening, you'll need to leave shiroishi, i'm not able to get through to your home number for some reason, WY is about to call you"

Primal rumble

I hear it

Before I feel it.

Reconnected.

Ring ring. Ring ring.

It never stops.

A shout from below.

Digits flash.

We blow out candles.

Jenni Yau updated her status

14 March 2011 at 19:43

"apologies for the slow updates. i do live on the boarder of miyagi and fukushima, but we are far enough from the nuclear plants. electricity restored an hour ago. no water yet. food is a vague concern, but there was a food drop. cant leave the village for the forseeable future. gas is... not sure. if it rains it will be acidic. but, we are happy, safe, and flipping lucky not to live at the coast."

My sister demands exodus

But I'm no Israelite.

Flyjin, we're called. 

Ring ring.

Ring ring.

15 March 2011 at 10:09

Jenni wrote a new note: Dear Nestor.

Our fridge empties;

Three lanky carrots

A carton of warm milk.

Jenni Yau updated her status

15 March 2011 at 12:32

“Is anyone from Tohoku Gakuin University? A friend from home is trying to locate a family friend who taught English there so any info would be greatly appreciated"

He calls

We haven't spoken in a year.

Come home.

He calls.

Radioactive spinich.

I could use an extra heart.

Ring ring.

(Anonymous) updated her status

15 March 2011 at 12:53

“All the embassies have been great. Sending out emails and messages to their citizens, personally visiting their citizens in Miyagi, and bussing them to neighbouring prefectures... Except for Canada which has not sent us any information or tried to make contact.

Liam called the embassy this morning, and they told us to fly out of Sendai airport -which is underwater.

When Liam told her it was underwater, she told us to go to Fukushima and fly out of there.

Fukushima is the prefecture with the Nuclear Power Plant, that has evacuated 100,000 people.

So the embassy directed us towards a flooded, tsunami area, and then a Nuclear disaster zone.

Then they told us to ask local authorities instead, saying they were going to wait until after an earthquake hits Tokyo to make any comments or suggestions.”

A six hour queue

for petrol.

Roads torn

Broken like biscuits.

Stranded on land

Jenni Yau updated her status

15 March 2011 at 18:10

"Japan, I am amazed. I live in the sticks, and yet I have electricity, gas, phone and internet. Food exists in some form or another, as does water and sanitation. AND the postman came round this morning. I will never, ever, make fun of your haircut again. In the words of a junior high school student, みんなさん、ガンバッテ!! And you guys at home, if that's what Japan can do, you can surely get some Jaffa cakes in a jiffy bag!"

Inaccurate reports

Reports of inaccuracy

We wade through reportage.

Ring ring.

Jenni Yau updated her status

15 March 2011 at 18:27

Ok, so, as reliable as the BBC is, can people please check reliable sources before they spiral into panic mode: http://www.iaea.org/newscenter/news/tsunamiupdate01.html

No modicum of tact left.

Dirty laundry left to dry.

七十パーセント。

七十パーセント。

What's nanajuu pasento?

Jenni Yau commented on your status

16 March 2011 at 09:21

This is the official line from the Japan Meteorological Agency: Estimating from the occurrence of aftershocks so far, the possibility of aftershocks with maximum JMA Seismic Intensity of 5+ or higher is 40% for the 3-day period from 15:00 JST, 15 March, followed by 20% for the 3-day period from 15:00 JST, 18 March to 15:00 JST, 21 March.

 

Jenni Yau updated her status

16 March 2011 at 18:45

"just spoke to the British consulate rep in Sendai. What a sweetheart. Too bad he was completely useless to me. I wonder if he had jaffa cakes..."

Ring ring.

Jenni Yau updated her status

16 March 2011 at 21:07

after careful consideration and a long chat with my kyoto sensei, i think i might stay to help. i'm not in any immediate danger, apart from a hernia from worried family members. i do not want to talk about the subject of me coming home or leaving miyagi again, so please, you know who you are, do not speak about it unless i bring it up.

Wing Yun Yau commented on your status

16 March 2011 at 03:40

Yep, good job airing your dirty laundry in public. Be careful what you post publicly. We're not happy about your conduct but respect your decision to stay. Drop the attitude, don't forget the updates and take care of yourself and others out there. Sis, Bro and mum X

Adam Matheson commented on your status

17 March 2011 at 10:52

To be fair Jenni I have been worried about you too. But more in terms of running out of food, water and heating than getting radiation poisoning. People hear nuclear and forget the humanitarian crisis, which is a far bigger problem in North East Japan right now.

.

Ring ring.

Ring ring.

Ring ring.

It never stops.

Guilt rises.

Jenni Yau updated her status

17 March 2011 at 16:51

“On my way out. I may be some time.”

Abandonner.

Jenni Yau updated her status

17 March 2011 at 22:42

“Stuck at home for now, will leave tomorrow. In the meantime, it's a hot toddy and a green jumper for me.”

Three.

We hit the back roads west.

Dodging tarmac

Torn from the ground.

Jenni Yau updated her status

18 March 2011 at 23:47

Tsuruoka, Yamagata. 200km from Fukushima.

Neil Anderson updated his status

19 March 2011 at 02:08

Safely in Tokyo with Jenny Arnup.

Thank you to...

The Australian Embassy: For both paying our $130 taxi from Shiroishi to Sendai and setting us up together with a ride down to Tokyo with the Canadians.

The Canadian Embassy: For a comfortable, free ride to Tokyo and a warm welcome by the Canadian ambassador at the embassy followed by dinner and hotel reservations for the night.

The American Embassy: For nothing...

Raymond Q Smuckles commented on your status

19 March 2011 at 03:10

ha, madness. so what's the plan - is that the program pretty much over for you, after kyoto?

Jenni Yau commented on her status

19 March 2011 at 09:57

No, i gotta go back to miyagi, i have a job there still!

Brian 'Simba' Garvey posted a comment

19 March 2011 at 10:43

Sendai getting bleaker? Is it possible?

Christopher Nicholls posted a comment

19 March 2011 at 13:30

I think I saw a zombie earlier. And a werewolf. And Lady Gaga.

Jenni Yau updated her status

19 March 2011 at 19:05

I was called up and offered iodine tablets by my embassy, provided I could come to Sendai and get them. I told them yesterday I was in Yamagata. I'm being put up by friends of friends who are being amazing.

Jenni Yau updated her status

20 March 2011 at 18:29

"being very conscientiously looked after by some lovely strangers. may not have slept in days, but am fine."

Jenni Yau updated her status

21 March 2011 at 18:29

"Realising I haven't updated in a few days - still alive, still being looked after in Tsuruoka. Have been helping with a food drive for supplies for Miyagi."

Jenni Yau updated her status

22 March 2011 at 17:02

(Subbed) Nuclear Boy うんち・おならで例える原発解説

"I remember describing the nuclear situation to you as being this exactly, and all I could think was - FUCK, I've turned Japanese. "

Jenni Yau updated her status

23 March 2011 at 13:06

"Has a numb arse from train hopping. in niigata, on my way to joetsu to visit the lovely adam wilson. in other news, skipping town uses the remainder of my holiday days and then will be considered unpaid leave beyond the remaining days i had. that's the price of peace of mind for the family..."

Jonathan Borja posted on your wall

10 April 2011 at 10:36

Yea local trains were supposed to start last week but got suspended cuz of the earthquake last week but I'm watching it on the news now. Shink goes up to Fukushima starting today n local trains from Fukushima to Sendai are running too.

Jenni Yau updated her status

12^th April 2011 at 15:33

"Ta, ta, ただいま! You know, it really doesn't look so bad... Extreme gas bill aside."

 

Jenni Yau updated her status

14 April 2011 at 18:50

"Dear toaster. I cannot comprehend how you have survived being shaken off the fridge. Twice. I love you; please, never ever change.

Brian 'Simba' Garvey posted on your wall

15 April 2011 at 13:48

I love you so much right now

'Judge not,' 'fly-jin' and savingelectricity: views from readers | The Japan Times Online

Some readers' responses to Roberto De Vido's "Judge not, lest you be judged" (March 22), Darek Gondor's " 'Fly-jin' face fallout from decision to go" (April 5), and Darryl Magree's March 29 letter

Three months on...

A story;

An orphan

born of the whirlpool

just beyond the school gates.

We listen.

We arrange ourselves

By flood depth

Proximity to glowing spinach,

How long it took to flush your loo, and

How many students you lost.

Judge not,

Lest ye judge yourself

cautious,

We suck slowly each word,

Knowing our place

by the weight of our heart.

You, who left,

Flood the room

with weighted air.

Humidity rises

An oil slick

Will not wash

But merely recedes.

Four months have passed,

No more.

Not a day passes

Where we don't

Tie our pulse

To the beat of the ground.

Don't forget, you can still donate to Japan.

Before and After pictures on the BBC

The Exorcism; an explanation

Immediately on publication of the previous entry I felt the need to justify some of the poems. Since none of them were written in my home country, I think they still count as travel writing, to some degree anyway.


Amnesia

Amnesia is a poem I found in one of my notebooks. I scribbled pieces of it down when I was, let's say, not exactly self-aware. I found the rest in the form of a note which a friend had left during that time.


Notebooks

Frank O'Hara is my hero.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2003/jul/12/featuresreviews.guardianreview10


Go-hyaku-en Dama

I think it's quite obvious. But I just hope that it's not as overly sentimental as it could be.

The Exorcism

I have been meaning to update the blog for a few weeks now, but it's been a rather taxing month. I have a few ideas floating around but finding time, love, or patience to write has been difficult to say the very least.

As I am bashing out the next entry or two, I've decided to fill the gap with some poetry I wrote last year. It's kind of an experiment... I'd love to hear what you think of it.

Amnesia 

Room full of galactic spirals

Spread like butter on pages

All lined up. 

Bound in a book

By these stone angels

Pacman angels. 

Gone to Gray Area

For Stuff. Will go 

To Amnesia/Bulldog for quickie

(either wait my return or meet

meet me at Bulldogs)

Lots of love… X

Room full of void

Hosted in the sky.

We're flying,

It's the next Golden Age. 

Amsterdam (naturally), 2010.

Notebooks

I told myself,

I could be a painter,

Painting,

Repainting,

Perfecting. 

O'Hara, he knew

Painters cover blemishes, 

Dissolve them

Remould, reshape, reinvent

And repeat.

Until sardines exist no more,

A painting starves.

I remember

Lines from my teacher.

I will put down my pen.

I will put down my pen.

I will put down my pen.

I will put down my pen.

I will put down my pen.

Japan, 2010

五百円玉 (go-hyaku-en dama; the five hundred yen coin)

I roll the contradiction between my fingers

Perfectly round, yet completely flat. 

'I don't know what "our story" is', he says. 

A feeble excuse.

'There are two sides to every coin', 

But unlike this coin, 

this go-hyaku-en dama,

our value is not yet fixed.

He wants to put "our story" in a box,

shelf it away

between some books

and the shell he found on the beach that day.

Then, he could turn it into a case study.

Or a fairy tale

for a rainy day. 

I want to take "our story" to the jeweller

Have it assessed 

by a professional.

Then, knowing that stories are price-less

I could let it go,

like a red balloon.

'You're a deer', he says, 

Definitively.

Hooves spring from where my hands used to be

(making it only more difficult to write)

that it's easier to divorce that idea you coined

than her,

lying on your bed,

her fingers twisted in your hair. 

Japan, 2011

The holidays are coming...

I arrived back home for an 'indeterminate' period of time. I'm yet to discover what that really means. Setting my employment struggles aside, I'm rather glad to be back. This was my first Christmas in two years. Last year I hopped hundreds of miles of local trains* from Sendai to Nozawa Onsen to spend Christmas day tumbling down the powdery peaks of Nagano.

Day three, I was a small crumpled ball on the tatami floor. (Worth it.)

Christmas passed practically unnoticed by my foetus. I remember it was signalled silently only when I threw my oniisan's Christmas present on him as he slept. We ate a make-do Christmas dinner, neither turkey nor roast potatoes, but a massive bowl of donburi and gently warmed sake. Not a morsel of tasteless tinsel in sight amongst the wood panelling and scrawled kanji menu. There were five of us, including the owner/chef. It being Christmas was irrelevant to the lack of diners in the establishment. Japan brims with stagnant economy although this never seems to press on daily life in the same way that it does in Europe. The threat of British poverty has such force that often times I dread even going outside. But in Japan, a quiet restaurant is just that. They exist, waiting patiently for customers to emerge from the cold.

So that is how I passed Christmas last year. Five people from five different nations, gubbing down rice and bread crumbed pork, watching the figure skating championships. We told the owner in pigeon Japanese that it was Christmas, a holiday in Western culture. Pretending to be interested he enquired politely about customs and celebrations. All I could think of was the Christmas Coca cola advert...


The holidays are coming, the holidays are coming...

The image of a tubby beardy bloke donning a scarlet suit with white trimming winking from the back of a Coca cola lorry has been the start of Christmas to me ever since I was a little girl. I love Christmas. I love watching terrible 80s films in their fuzzy glory while gobbling more turkey than I can physically handle. I love the trees bondage tied by fairy lights in Princes Street,  the smell of sausages being seared on a hot plate, and vats of steaming mulled wine on a constant steamy boil in the German market.

While I was away, I didn't miss Christmas. It is only now that I'm back here that I miss it. Even though I was here celebrating it with my family, I still missed it. But I miss Christmas before everyone grew up. Christmas this year involved me cooking the roast whilst my mother went to church. There were no children ripping open wrapping paper and running around on sugar highs. The saddest thing of all was probably the updated Coca Cola advert. They changed everything in an attempt to revitalise their advertising strategy I suppose. But Christmas relies heavily upon nostalgia. Why celebrate year after year if not to recreate the serenity experienced the years before? What I want from Christmas is to return to childhood, swaddled in the perception of rose tinted safety.

I'm not sure where I will be this time next year. But I hope next year I won't spend my time searching for ghosts of Christmases past.



*Three times a year JR offers a special ticket called the Seishuun Juuhachi Kippu. The ticket costs about 10,000JPY and offers unlimited train travel on local trains for 5 days within a limited period of time. You don't have to take the 5 days consecutively and you can share a ticket between a group, it's really flexible. If you're not in a hurry and can manage frequent train changes, this is the most economical way to get around without hitch hiking.

The Pastry Confession

So, all the stories you've heard are true, I will be carting my plump arse back to Scotland just in time for the onset of the festive season. (My birthday too, don't you forget.) I'm facing my last two weeks in Paris already. I feel a little guilty for not giving it a proper heave-ho, but I don't feel there is good enough reason for me to reasonably stay. I enjoyed autumn here, particularly the dead leaves mobbing the pavement. There are some things I will miss about Paris. In the same way there are many things I missed in Japan. But now, I miss lots of little things about home, most of all.

The thing I missed most about home, when I was in Japan, it was bread. Simple bread. A little diversion to clarify: Japan does have bread, it is sold in packs of slices of 3, 6 or 8. And, it NEVER goes stale. I sometimes left these slices on top of my toaster for weeks at a time (my cleanliness is not even the issue here). They neither grew mould, nor went stale. For its longevity it might have been the perfect disaster food. Admittedly I didn't see a single slice of bread the entire month after the Tohoku Daishinsai, but I stand firm in my beliefs. 

The big problem, however, is that the bread despite it's clearly advantageous life span, is... awful. It's sweet, it's too soft, it sticks to your teeth like toffee. It's just not really bread. I'm not unacquainted with Asian breads being Chinese after all. Now would I ever turn down a nikku-man. There's always room for nikku-man. But the bready famine it wasn't limited to bread, it was pastries, cakes, anything flour based which required an oven. In fact, anything which is readily available in Paris from at least three shops on every street. Paris has spoiled me with the one thing I missed the most and still I have not had enough. I love leaving a boulangerie with a warm baguette in hand, munching one end, trampling crisp dry leaves piled by the roadside. I am quite content with my decision to leave Paris but I know for a fact that bread will yet again become a distant desire. 

So for my last two weeks, I have decided to put myself on a diet. A bread and pastry diet. I'm going to sample one of these butter loaded floury baked goodies daily until I leave. My mouth is already salivating in excitement. I may require two seats on the plane... 

So, I present to you now;

The Pastry of the Day

Feuillette chocolat et banan. Nom nom nom...

Rejoining 21st century Scotland

It has been over a week since I was reunited with the smell of bacon and brown sauce.

One year spent without a decent hangover cure. One entire year with no TV, no nightlife, no Irn Bru, no bacon. And yet, pangs of nostalgia; I already miss Japan. Its perversions, insane working culture and nuclear-tsunami-quake-a-thon aside, it was a fantastic place to live. Even the wild snares of the cicada, the humongous flying cockroaches they are, is something to be missed. There is an atmosphere in Japan like no other. I don't mean the weight of the humidity, which at times bordered on being completely ridiculous. But an atmosphere, a buzz of something great. Something unified. Whereas most of the buzzing here at home can be traced back to a mobile phone.

I have transformed into something of a prude, I think.