Friday, May 27, 2011
Blood on the tracks
An interesting employment opportunity has had me spending rather a lot more time on trains recently. I spotted a train called ‘The Virgin Invader’ at Euston last night and sniggered duly.
-- Rewind, last Thursday --
As our train zooms through Milton Keynes Central station, there is suddenly a nasty juddering, rattling sort of a sound and we slow swiftly to a halt. I suspect that someone has just put an end to their misery. Furthermore, I suspect mine is just beginning.
An announcement: there has been ‘an incident’ at Milton Keynes and our driver is ‘in no fit state to continue’. We are stuck, some two hundred yards past the station, and we are going nowhere fast.
Most people in the carriage have likewise concluded that the ‘incident’ must have been a suicide. “What a pity,” they lament: “if only he’d waited for the next train.”
The woman across from me is talking into her phone about ‘the selfish bastard’ who’s just brought our journey to its hiatus, all the while shovelling crisps into her face. I haven’t had dinner and wouldn’t mind a crisp. She doesn’t offer me one.
I am tormented by jumpers and Walkers. Later, more fortunate trains thunder past and on into the oblivious night, unhindered by the torsos of the broken hearted.
-- Rewind, last Thursday --
As our train zooms through Milton Keynes Central station, there is suddenly a nasty juddering, rattling sort of a sound and we slow swiftly to a halt. I suspect that someone has just put an end to their misery. Furthermore, I suspect mine is just beginning.
An announcement: there has been ‘an incident’ at Milton Keynes and our driver is ‘in no fit state to continue’. We are stuck, some two hundred yards past the station, and we are going nowhere fast.
Most people in the carriage have likewise concluded that the ‘incident’ must have been a suicide. “What a pity,” they lament: “if only he’d waited for the next train.”
The woman across from me is talking into her phone about ‘the selfish bastard’ who’s just brought our journey to its hiatus, all the while shovelling crisps into her face. I haven’t had dinner and wouldn’t mind a crisp. She doesn’t offer me one.
I am tormented by jumpers and Walkers. Later, more fortunate trains thunder past and on into the oblivious night, unhindered by the torsos of the broken hearted.
Labels: IMPENDING DOOM, MOMENTS, TRAVEL
Monday, October 05, 2009
Pigeons on public transport
Sitting on the train at London Bridge, about to depart into the Saturday night for destinations which have only previously occupied my consciousness as Carter USM lyrics and the space on my mental map marked 'here be dragons'.
One of London's feral pigeons flutters through the still-open train door and waddles regally under a seat, opposite which a girl is reading.
Unwilling to share a carriage for three stops with noxious guano-spilling vermin, I grab my notepad (practising shorthand) and head over.
"Excuse me," I say in passing to the girl, who ignores me entirely.
I crouch down and flap my notepad under the seat.
"Go on, fuck off out of it you fucker. Jesus fucking Christ..."
The pigeon, discomfited by my flailing (or unimpressed with my language) leaves huffily.
"Sorry about that," I say to the girl, standing up. Her ignorance of me redoubles.
I return to my seat and my reflections. London is a foreign country.
One of London's feral pigeons flutters through the still-open train door and waddles regally under a seat, opposite which a girl is reading.
Unwilling to share a carriage for three stops with noxious guano-spilling vermin, I grab my notepad (practising shorthand) and head over.
"Excuse me," I say in passing to the girl, who ignores me entirely.
I crouch down and flap my notepad under the seat.
"Go on, fuck off out of it you fucker. Jesus fucking Christ..."
The pigeon, discomfited by my flailing (or unimpressed with my language) leaves huffily.
"Sorry about that," I say to the girl, standing up. Her ignorance of me redoubles.
I return to my seat and my reflections. London is a foreign country.
Labels: MOMENTS, NATURE, TRAVEL
Friday, August 21, 2009
Snowdonia 2009: the Welsh 3000s
Big Dave mentioned that Bailey was coming back from Japan for a visit and would I be interested in going on a walking trip in Snowdonia?
For sure, I said, thinking of my 15th and 16th birthdays spent on school camping trips with cold tinned curry and warm tinned beer.
It then came out that what Dave had in mind was The Welsh 3000s:
Sod, I said, and tapped up the dad for a new set of walking boots.
***
We arrived at Gwern Gof Uchaf Camp Site on the Friday evening, then Other Dave and I drove to drop his car at where we projected our walk would end. Our plan of action for the Saturday was:
Team Snowdonia 2009: (L to R) Other Dave, Big Dave, Bailey, Dan
***
FIRST VIDEO CLIP:
Discretion being the better part of valour and none of us eager to take on the treacherous Crib Goch ridge in 50 mph sideways rain, we went for a revised schedule:
***
The Saturday walk was beset with bad weather and navigational difficulties, perhaps the worst of which was the bit when a mischievous gust of wind deprived us of the protective sheet for our map. The map ended up the consistency of damp tissue and proved a right bugger to read.
Our one break in the weather came when we made it back to the camp site and broke out the barbecue:
Red sky at night, shepherd's delight;
mince and potato, shepherd's pie.
With the evening drawing in and the weather turning nasty again, we hit the hay, ready for another tough day's walking.
***
Sunday, to my frank horror, dawned very clear and bright. I say "horror" because I was more than ready for grey skies, rain and a valid excuse to get back into my sleeping bag and lay down some Zs. No such luck.
We drove to the foot of Snowdon and began our ascent up the Pyg Track. We then had the question of whether or not we'd bother with Crib Goch. Other Dave wanted to, Bailey and Big Dave voiced doubts about the wind, which was picking up quite nicely. Suffering from a surplus of testosterone, I volunteered to accompany Other Dave, while our comrades would go directly to the summit of Snowdon and meet us there.
I had ample cause to question the wisdom of my decision as we ascended: cloud closed in around us, the wind picked up and walking became scrambling. At first, scrambling up facing nothing but rock and exercising a rigid policy of not looking down, it wasn't too bad. Eventually, though, we reached a point where we were scrambling up the intersection of two rock faces with the blank void of infinity dropping away on either side.
It fairly did my head in, I can tell you. My world suddenly seemed to have a great deal more "down" than "up."
Then there was the ridge itself: the wrong step on the left-hand side and there'd be a trail of Dan to the bottom of the mountain; the right-hand side had the debatable attraction that at least I wouldn't bounce so many times before reaching the bottom. The most disheartening bit was when we had to shimmy along a ledge where the rock face went in underneath, adding that extra little frisson of standing above empty air, a couple of thousand feet above sea level.
Not unnaturally, we took all this at a fairly conservative pace, no doubt giving our comrades some worry when we didn't reach the top of Snowdon within our projected time frame.
"Thank fook for that!" exclaimed Big Dave when we finally showed up; "I thought you were dead!"
Happily, we weren't. Here's a video of Other Dave conquering the summit of Snowdon, while Big Dave and Bailey had already made tracks for the Halfway House cafe, halfway down the mountain:
***
Descending Snowdon a couple of hours behind schedule, we decided to take a shortcut off the beaten track and shave a couple of mountains (Elidir Fawr and Y Garn) off our route:
The masterplan was to go over the Glyders (Fach and Fawr) and bag Tryfan before heading back down to camp. Unfortunately, the weather did us wrong once again with dense cloud making a mockery of our attempts to find our way around at altitude. We made it to the summit of Glyder Fach, but then spent about an hour looking for Glyder Fawr, which would have been a cinch if we'd been able to see more than about thirty yards.
Wearying of this (to say nothing of the walking group who were shadowing us, hoping thereby to overcome their own navigational woes), we sacked the whole business off and began our descent towards the camp site.
***
Although we were unable to reach our goal of all 15 peaks in 24 hours, we walked ten hours on both days and I'm pretty confident that, had we been more fortunate with conditions / less inept with our navigation, we would have been able to make it round within the time limit.
I was pleased to have lasted the distance on the walking (and more pleased still not to have plunged to my death from Suicide Pass) but it was a shame not to have been able to finish our walk at the two iconic standing stones at the summit of Tryfan.
The other downside of not finishing the job is that Big Dave is pretty eager to have another go at it next year.
FACEBOOK ALBUM!
For sure, I said, thinking of my 15th and 16th birthdays spent on school camping trips with cold tinned curry and warm tinned beer.
It then came out that what Dave had in mind was The Welsh 3000s:
In order to complete the Welsh 3000s Challenge you are required to have been at the top of all 15 of the mountains over 3000 ft in Wales within the space of 24 hours, without using any form of transport.
The length is about 24 miles, but the walks to the start point and down from the finish point can take it to over 30 miles in total.
The walk is also known as "The 14 Peaks" (although there are officially 15, or possibly 16).
from http://www.welsh3000s.co.uk/
Sod, I said, and tapped up the dad for a new set of walking boots.
***
We arrived at Gwern Gof Uchaf Camp Site on the Friday evening, then Other Dave and I drove to drop his car at where we projected our walk would end. Our plan of action for the Saturday was:
- Get up dead early.
- Drive to the foot of Snowdon and ascend via Crib Goch, then follow a route across the Glyders to Tryfan.
- Take a break at our camp site.
- Get stuck into the second half of our walk (Carnedd section on the Welsh 3000s page.)
- Reach Other Dave's car at Abergwyngregyn (or "Aber-thingy" as it became when we had to ask for directions.)
- Get on the keg.
Team Snowdonia 2009: (L to R) Other Dave, Big Dave, Bailey, Dan
***
FIRST VIDEO CLIP:
Discretion being the better part of valour and none of us eager to take on the treacherous Crib Goch ridge in 50 mph sideways rain, we went for a revised schedule:
- Go back to bed for a few hours.
- Do the Carnedd section.
- Leave the hard stuff for the morrow and hope for better weather.
- Get on the keg.
***
The Saturday walk was beset with bad weather and navigational difficulties, perhaps the worst of which was the bit when a mischievous gust of wind deprived us of the protective sheet for our map. The map ended up the consistency of damp tissue and proved a right bugger to read.
Our one break in the weather came when we made it back to the camp site and broke out the barbecue:
Red sky at night, shepherd's delight;
mince and potato, shepherd's pie.
With the evening drawing in and the weather turning nasty again, we hit the hay, ready for another tough day's walking.
***
Sunday, to my frank horror, dawned very clear and bright. I say "horror" because I was more than ready for grey skies, rain and a valid excuse to get back into my sleeping bag and lay down some Zs. No such luck.
We drove to the foot of Snowdon and began our ascent up the Pyg Track. We then had the question of whether or not we'd bother with Crib Goch. Other Dave wanted to, Bailey and Big Dave voiced doubts about the wind, which was picking up quite nicely. Suffering from a surplus of testosterone, I volunteered to accompany Other Dave, while our comrades would go directly to the summit of Snowdon and meet us there.
I had ample cause to question the wisdom of my decision as we ascended: cloud closed in around us, the wind picked up and walking became scrambling. At first, scrambling up facing nothing but rock and exercising a rigid policy of not looking down, it wasn't too bad. Eventually, though, we reached a point where we were scrambling up the intersection of two rock faces with the blank void of infinity dropping away on either side.
It fairly did my head in, I can tell you. My world suddenly seemed to have a great deal more "down" than "up."
Then there was the ridge itself: the wrong step on the left-hand side and there'd be a trail of Dan to the bottom of the mountain; the right-hand side had the debatable attraction that at least I wouldn't bounce so many times before reaching the bottom. The most disheartening bit was when we had to shimmy along a ledge where the rock face went in underneath, adding that extra little frisson of standing above empty air, a couple of thousand feet above sea level.
Not unnaturally, we took all this at a fairly conservative pace, no doubt giving our comrades some worry when we didn't reach the top of Snowdon within our projected time frame.
"Thank fook for that!" exclaimed Big Dave when we finally showed up; "I thought you were dead!"
Happily, we weren't. Here's a video of Other Dave conquering the summit of Snowdon, while Big Dave and Bailey had already made tracks for the Halfway House cafe, halfway down the mountain:
***
Descending Snowdon a couple of hours behind schedule, we decided to take a shortcut off the beaten track and shave a couple of mountains (Elidir Fawr and Y Garn) off our route:
Running a bit behind schedule on our Snowdonia walking challenge, we hop over a hedge and Hobbit our way to safety. THRILL as we hide from Nazgul! SQUEAL as we evade voracious Velociraptors! CHEER when this pointless shambles of a video draws to a close!(Youtube blurb)
The masterplan was to go over the Glyders (Fach and Fawr) and bag Tryfan before heading back down to camp. Unfortunately, the weather did us wrong once again with dense cloud making a mockery of our attempts to find our way around at altitude. We made it to the summit of Glyder Fach, but then spent about an hour looking for Glyder Fawr, which would have been a cinch if we'd been able to see more than about thirty yards.
Wearying of this (to say nothing of the walking group who were shadowing us, hoping thereby to overcome their own navigational woes), we sacked the whole business off and began our descent towards the camp site.
***
Although we were unable to reach our goal of all 15 peaks in 24 hours, we walked ten hours on both days and I'm pretty confident that, had we been more fortunate with conditions / less inept with our navigation, we would have been able to make it round within the time limit.
I was pleased to have lasted the distance on the walking (and more pleased still not to have plunged to my death from Suicide Pass) but it was a shame not to have been able to finish our walk at the two iconic standing stones at the summit of Tryfan.
The other downside of not finishing the job is that Big Dave is pretty eager to have another go at it next year.
FACEBOOK ALBUM!
Labels: COMRADES, SELF IMPROVEMENT, TRAVEL, U-TUBE
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Facebook photo fest
I have discovered a new love of Facebook. Originally I was opposed to the removal of the automatic "is" from the status bar, reasoning that tighter rules of composition can sometimes stimulate creativity; take Haiku, for example.
However, being able to set my status to "has removed you from his friends list" has kept me laughing since this time yesterday. Genius, if I do say so myself.
Oh, anyway, there's photos too:
Kyushu with Joe
Kobe and Kyoto with Joe
Hanami with a hangover
However, being able to set my status to "has removed you from his friends list" has kept me laughing since this time yesterday. Genius, if I do say so myself.
Oh, anyway, there's photos too:
Kyushu with Joe
Kobe and Kyoto with Joe
Hanami with a hangover
Labels: BUNKA, CLAN, COMRADES, IMAGES, TRAVEL
Friday, April 04, 2008
Kyushu photos
Here's a few snaps of me and Joe on our Kyushu jaunt. We visited Fukuoka and Nagasaki. There'll be more to follow on facebook and this page after I'm finally rid of the shag-haired villain and able to get down to some serious geekery again.
Notes for the non-Nippon literate: Kyushu is the southernmost of Japan's four main islands. It takes about twelve hours by ferry from Osaka. And the Softbank Hawks suck.
The boat to Moji.
Joe's bed.
My bed.
(We got upgraded from economy floorspace!)
Fukuoka: Joe was suitably impressed with the o-hanami.
Nagasaki: a temple.
The Japanese phrase for "two peas in a pod" is uri futatsu, meaning "two melons."
Go on, say it...
Fine weather in Nagasaki peace park (peace statue in the background.)
The one-legged torii gate in Nagasaki. No prizes for guessing what happened to the other leg.
The 26 Christian martyrs of Japan (go on, count them!)
These were crucified in Nagasaki in 1597 after the shogunate had decided that having Christians about the place wasn't a good idea.
More snaps to follow!
Notes for the non-Nippon literate: Kyushu is the southernmost of Japan's four main islands. It takes about twelve hours by ferry from Osaka. And the Softbank Hawks suck.
The boat to Moji.
Joe's bed.
My bed.
(We got upgraded from economy floorspace!)
Fukuoka: Joe was suitably impressed with the o-hanami.
Nagasaki: a temple.
The Japanese phrase for "two peas in a pod" is uri futatsu, meaning "two melons."
Go on, say it...
Fine weather in Nagasaki peace park (peace statue in the background.)
The one-legged torii gate in Nagasaki. No prizes for guessing what happened to the other leg.
The 26 Christian martyrs of Japan (go on, count them!)
These were crucified in Nagasaki in 1597 after the shogunate had decided that having Christians about the place wasn't a good idea.
More snaps to follow!
Monday, October 08, 2007
Oh my goodness...
I just noticed the date: I've been in Japan for exactly four years!
To commemorate the occasion, I would like to issue the following statement:
Attention, worms: from now on, things are going to be very different around here. I'm going to bring a new zest to my teaching and studying, and a new meaning to the word "fear."
I am going to rise to greater heights of tomfoolery than ever and my savings are going to amount to a damn sight more than what's in my penny jar.
And sushi is not, nor ever will be, "very delicious." It's acceptable at best.
But first, I'm going to raise a glass.
To commemorate the occasion, I would like to issue the following statement:
Attention, worms: from now on, things are going to be very different around here. I'm going to bring a new zest to my teaching and studying, and a new meaning to the word "fear."
I am going to rise to greater heights of tomfoolery than ever and my savings are going to amount to a damn sight more than what's in my penny jar.
And sushi is not, nor ever will be, "very delicious." It's acceptable at best.
But first, I'm going to raise a glass.
Labels: TRAVEL
Friday, August 31, 2007
3-day weekend, no actual breakages
Vivre was closed for a stock-take and Dan got a three-day weekend. Here's how it went:
Thursday
Off to Mount Fuji! I'd been meaning to do this since I came to Japan, but never quite got round to it.
Arrived at Shin-Fuji station and my first thought was: Damn, that's a big mountain. Came out of the station and thought: Hey, where did it go? It seems that in the summer Fuji is only fleetingly visible, disappearing behind cloud for long stretches of time.
I climbed Fuji on the Fujinomiya-Mishima route, starting from the 5th station. It should be noted that I win zero points for originality here- everyone climbs from 5th station, because it's a lot less hassle; and everyone from western Japan climbs the Fujinomiya route because it's a heinous pain in the anus to get to any of the other routes. I was deeply saddened not to be able to take the purportedly-scenic Yoshida route, as orgasmed over relentlessly by the Lonely Planet.
Full of zest, I set off from 5th station at 8pm and fairly hoofed it up the mountain. It wasn't too cold, but there was a kind of nasty, persistent sideways moisture that was making light work of my laughably-titled waterproofs.
Maybe due to speed of ascent/ lack of acclimatisation, I started to get a bit of a headache just before the 8th station, but I decided to press on to the 9th before taking shelter, which would leave me an easier walk in the morning. The temperature dropped as I blundered about groggily on the damp rocks in the murky darkness, but I had the best torch a thousand yen can buy. Plus, there was lightning. Did I mention the lightning? It was cool.
Finally got to the 9th station and coughed up half my wallet for the chance to bed down in the crawlspace with some complete strangers.
Friday
Alarm woke me up at 0245 hours and I enjoyed(!) a light breakfast of "Topvalu" (sic) shortbread, before setting out at 0320 in frankly minging conditions (plus the sodden clothes I'd been only too happy to divest myself of a few short hours previously.) Although it was bitterly cold and windy, the fleeting glimpses of the stars above, mirroring the lights of early-morning Fuji city below, were probably the best view of the weekend.
I got to the top at 0415, and parked my arse in the nearest available cabin, surrounded by weedy jackasses slurping oxygen out of expensive cannisters. I had it on good authority that the sun would come up at 0430 on the dot. (Ah Japanese sun: is very punctual Gaijin-san.) As to whether it did or not, I really couldn't say: the dense clouds swilling around the summit frustrated my hopes of seeing the dawn from Mount Fuji. I didn't really mind though. I did a couple of laps of the crater (second was much easier: the conditions were beginning to improve.) The cloud started to thin out and I got a decent view of the forests way down at the bottom of the mountain.
Sadly, my camera crapped out on me, so the following farcical photos are courtesy of the Ferrari phone:
Having had my fill of Fuji-san, I hopped it back down the Fujinomiya trail, noting the ant-like procession of people on their way up.
Reasons why doing a night-climb is a good idea:
-Less traffic.
-Not so hot.
-You can't see anything, least of all how much of the bloody mountain you've got left to climb.
-You don't have to talk to anybody.
Got back to Shin-Fuji station around 2pm, turned round to steal a last glimpse of Fuji-san, but, true to form, the mountain was hidden from sight once more behind the veil of cloud.
***
Friday was far from finished though: there was still BEER NIGHT at the Osaka Dome. In order to take the patrons' minds off the paucity of baseball on display, the Osaka Dome infrequently holds Beer Nights (200 yen a beer, son!)
Sadly, it was a low-scoring game, but we did get the unlooked-for bonus of the 10th innings, by which time I was well and truly sozzled.
Saturday
The opening of the Athletics World Championships in Osaka! Overslept, but still made it down to Osaka-jo park in time to watch the leaders of the marathon come through. Went for breakfast with Adam, got back to the park and found that my bicycle had been nicked. The Stag was a freebie present from Andrew when I moved into the Chez Shinsaibashi. Even so, I was a bit miffed to be parted from it. I sincerely hope that it was stolen by the last-placed runner, who just couldn't be asked to persevere in the inhumanely warm Osaka conditions.
***
Three-day weekend damage report:
Extremely sore legs: 2
Remaining bicylcles: 0
Remaining cash: don't ask
Mystery gash and bruising on one arm, presumably sustained during or after Beer Night.
Actual breakages: 0
Thursday
Off to Mount Fuji! I'd been meaning to do this since I came to Japan, but never quite got round to it.
Arrived at Shin-Fuji station and my first thought was: Damn, that's a big mountain. Came out of the station and thought: Hey, where did it go? It seems that in the summer Fuji is only fleetingly visible, disappearing behind cloud for long stretches of time.
I climbed Fuji on the Fujinomiya-Mishima route, starting from the 5th station. It should be noted that I win zero points for originality here- everyone climbs from 5th station, because it's a lot less hassle; and everyone from western Japan climbs the Fujinomiya route because it's a heinous pain in the anus to get to any of the other routes. I was deeply saddened not to be able to take the purportedly-scenic Yoshida route, as orgasmed over relentlessly by the Lonely Planet.
Full of zest, I set off from 5th station at 8pm and fairly hoofed it up the mountain. It wasn't too cold, but there was a kind of nasty, persistent sideways moisture that was making light work of my laughably-titled waterproofs.
Maybe due to speed of ascent/ lack of acclimatisation, I started to get a bit of a headache just before the 8th station, but I decided to press on to the 9th before taking shelter, which would leave me an easier walk in the morning. The temperature dropped as I blundered about groggily on the damp rocks in the murky darkness, but I had the best torch a thousand yen can buy. Plus, there was lightning. Did I mention the lightning? It was cool.
Finally got to the 9th station and coughed up half my wallet for the chance to bed down in the crawlspace with some complete strangers.
Friday
Alarm woke me up at 0245 hours and I enjoyed(!) a light breakfast of "Topvalu" (sic) shortbread, before setting out at 0320 in frankly minging conditions (plus the sodden clothes I'd been only too happy to divest myself of a few short hours previously.) Although it was bitterly cold and windy, the fleeting glimpses of the stars above, mirroring the lights of early-morning Fuji city below, were probably the best view of the weekend.
I got to the top at 0415, and parked my arse in the nearest available cabin, surrounded by weedy jackasses slurping oxygen out of expensive cannisters. I had it on good authority that the sun would come up at 0430 on the dot. (Ah Japanese sun: is very punctual Gaijin-san.) As to whether it did or not, I really couldn't say: the dense clouds swilling around the summit frustrated my hopes of seeing the dawn from Mount Fuji. I didn't really mind though. I did a couple of laps of the crater (second was much easier: the conditions were beginning to improve.) The cloud started to thin out and I got a decent view of the forests way down at the bottom of the mountain.
Sadly, my camera crapped out on me, so the following farcical photos are courtesy of the Ferrari phone:
 | A torii gate on the mountain, far above the clouds. |
 | The unprepossessing arrangement of pebbles which marks the very highest point of Fuji-san. |
 | Dan, sporting Canucks hat and kag-in-a-bag over jacket from "What Everyone Wants" |
Having had my fill of Fuji-san, I hopped it back down the Fujinomiya trail, noting the ant-like procession of people on their way up.
Reasons why doing a night-climb is a good idea:
-Less traffic.
-Not so hot.
-You can't see anything, least of all how much of the bloody mountain you've got left to climb.
-You don't have to talk to anybody.
Got back to Shin-Fuji station around 2pm, turned round to steal a last glimpse of Fuji-san, but, true to form, the mountain was hidden from sight once more behind the veil of cloud.
***
Friday was far from finished though: there was still BEER NIGHT at the Osaka Dome. In order to take the patrons' minds off the paucity of baseball on display, the Osaka Dome infrequently holds Beer Nights (200 yen a beer, son!)
Sadly, it was a low-scoring game, but we did get the unlooked-for bonus of the 10th innings, by which time I was well and truly sozzled.
Saturday
The opening of the Athletics World Championships in Osaka! Overslept, but still made it down to Osaka-jo park in time to watch the leaders of the marathon come through. Went for breakfast with Adam, got back to the park and found that my bicycle had been nicked. The Stag was a freebie present from Andrew when I moved into the Chez Shinsaibashi. Even so, I was a bit miffed to be parted from it. I sincerely hope that it was stolen by the last-placed runner, who just couldn't be asked to persevere in the inhumanely warm Osaka conditions.
***
Three-day weekend damage report:
Extremely sore legs: 2
Remaining bicylcles: 0
Remaining cash: don't ask
Mystery gash and bruising on one arm, presumably sustained during or after Beer Night.
Actual breakages: 0
Labels: IMAGES, MISDEEDS, NATURE, TRAVEL
Friday, June 15, 2007
The return of the native 2007
Big news: I'll be back in England from the 5th to the 17th of July. Anyone who can grab some free time to party with that man Dan from Japan: come one, come all.
Bad news is I'll be flying in aboard the airborne Expoland rollercoaster of death that is KLM.
Watch the skies!
Dan
***
10 injured as KLM plane hits turbulence, goes into free fall
By The Yomiuri Shimbun
OSAKA, Japan — Ten people aboard a KLM Royal Dutch Airlines plane heading to Japan's Kansai Airport suffered injuries after the plane hit air turbulence at about 33,000 feet above St. Petersburg, Russia, early today. The Boeing 777-200 plane, carrying 276 passengers and crew members from Amsterdam, continued its flight after the 12:43 a.m. incident and made a safe landing about eight hours later at Kansai Airport in Osaka.
There was no damage to the airplane. Seven passengers in their 40s to 60s, including five women, and three Dutch crew members, suffered minor injuries.
According to passengers, the plane began pitching soon after an announcement was made instructing passengers to fasten their seat belts. After the announcement, the plane reportedly went into a free fall, causing some passengers to hit their heads on the ceiling.
The pitching lasted for about three minutes, scattering food and drinks that burned some passengers. A male doctor among the passengers reportedly attended to the injured.
Kiyoko Nishikawa, 62, of Shimamotocho, Japan, who suffered head injuries, was returning from a 10-day vacation.
"I felt the plane rolling and free falling," she said. "People screamed, and wine splashed on the ceiling. A flying cup and a plate fell on my head."
Bad news is I'll be flying in aboard the airborne Expoland rollercoaster of death that is KLM.
Watch the skies!
Dan
***
10 injured as KLM plane hits turbulence, goes into free fall
By The Yomiuri Shimbun
OSAKA, Japan — Ten people aboard a KLM Royal Dutch Airlines plane heading to Japan's Kansai Airport suffered injuries after the plane hit air turbulence at about 33,000 feet above St. Petersburg, Russia, early today. The Boeing 777-200 plane, carrying 276 passengers and crew members from Amsterdam, continued its flight after the 12:43 a.m. incident and made a safe landing about eight hours later at Kansai Airport in Osaka.
There was no damage to the airplane. Seven passengers in their 40s to 60s, including five women, and three Dutch crew members, suffered minor injuries.
According to passengers, the plane began pitching soon after an announcement was made instructing passengers to fasten their seat belts. After the announcement, the plane reportedly went into a free fall, causing some passengers to hit their heads on the ceiling.
The pitching lasted for about three minutes, scattering food and drinks that burned some passengers. A male doctor among the passengers reportedly attended to the injured.
Kiyoko Nishikawa, 62, of Shimamotocho, Japan, who suffered head injuries, was returning from a 10-day vacation.
"I felt the plane rolling and free falling," she said. "People screamed, and wine splashed on the ceiling. A flying cup and a plate fell on my head."
Labels: CLAN, COMRADES, NEWS, TRAVEL
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Snake? Snake?! SNAAAAA-AKE!!
Woke up on the boat with a raging headache, an injured hand and zero memory. It seemed we had arrived in Kyushu and Doris Day on the boat wanted us to disembark. One of them was bustling round our cabin. I greeted her with the sort of growl that you don't want to hear behind you suddenly when you're climbing a mountain.
"Daniel McKeown-sama, you don't have your wallet, do you?"
I checked.
"Actually, I don't even have my trousers."
***
We saw Aso and it was good, but Caesar had to bail back to blighty due to an attack of Liquid Snake and The Man in the High Castle was close behind, thus our quartet has been shrunk down to two.
Nico and I are now on a revised schedule- Sakurajima will have to wait for another time, but we've done pretty well thus far. We're starting in Fukuoka today and we're planning a leisurely tour home along the inland sea.
And now we'd best get cracking.
"Daniel McKeown-sama, you don't have your wallet, do you?"
I checked.
"Actually, I don't even have my trousers."
***
We saw Aso and it was good, but Caesar had to bail back to blighty due to an attack of Liquid Snake and The Man in the High Castle was close behind, thus our quartet has been shrunk down to two.
Nico and I are now on a revised schedule- Sakurajima will have to wait for another time, but we've done pretty well thus far. We're starting in Fukuoka today and we're planning a leisurely tour home along the inland sea.
And now we'd best get cracking.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Plan K2
In the beginning, there was Plan K: Korea. Of our original four pack, one dropped out at the last minute due to chicken pox, prompting the following legendary observation from Caitlin (sic):
"Chicken pox?! What, was he breastfed until he was, like, 12 or something?"
Barring the mumps or nappy rash or any other belated health issues, however, all four are going to be in attendance for Plan K2: Kyushu!
Just as K2 is widely recognised as being an extremely dangerous mountain, we intend to entertain ourselves by checking out a couple of Japan's volcanoes in our whistle-stop tour of the southernmost of the country's four main islands.
Just to whet my appetite, a student drew me a map of Kagoshima, including its famous volcano, Sakurajima (lit: cherry blossom island) a volcano which rises menacingly out of the sea. I noticed a bit of false advertising.
"Hang on- it's joined to the mainland. Shouldn't it be called Sakurahanto (lit: cherry blossom peninsula)?"
The student told me that it had been an island until a particularly enthusiastic eruption had sent enough lava into the sea to join it to the mainland.
I'm there. I can feel the flecks of lava singeing my cheeks and the ash blocking out the sunlight. I am there.
Remember kids: duck and cover.
"Chicken pox?! What, was he breastfed until he was, like, 12 or something?"
Barring the mumps or nappy rash or any other belated health issues, however, all four are going to be in attendance for Plan K2: Kyushu!
Just as K2 is widely recognised as being an extremely dangerous mountain, we intend to entertain ourselves by checking out a couple of Japan's volcanoes in our whistle-stop tour of the southernmost of the country's four main islands.
Just to whet my appetite, a student drew me a map of Kagoshima, including its famous volcano, Sakurajima (lit: cherry blossom island) a volcano which rises menacingly out of the sea. I noticed a bit of false advertising.
"Hang on- it's joined to the mainland. Shouldn't it be called Sakurahanto (lit: cherry blossom peninsula)?"
The student told me that it had been an island until a particularly enthusiastic eruption had sent enough lava into the sea to join it to the mainland.
I'm there. I can feel the flecks of lava singeing my cheeks and the ash blocking out the sunlight. I am there.
Remember kids: duck and cover.
