Yup, life is cruisy, Marugame so far . . .

Definitely landed on my feet.

I'm living in the City of Marugame, Shikoku, which is more like a big town. It's got everything you could want but is surrounded by rice paddies, some dotted around the houses too. At the moment its planting season and legions of old women can be seen bent over in the nasty looking run off water which comprises the paddies, surrounded by slimy algae with lots of CO2 mixed in for good effect. They wash the rice here thoroughly! I'm so looking forward to the luminecent lushness of a couple of months to come. Young rice, so pretty.

Marugame means Circle Turtle. An odd name to be sure. I can guess that it refers to the circle of tu\rtles that surrounds the castle, but it would only be a guess. Yes, you read right. I'm living one minute away from a castle. One of twelve remaining Edo style castles in Japan, or something like that. The castle itself is a replica, and only the size of a small house, but the walls climb a hill that imposes itself over the whole town. Last week I climbed to the top and took some photos of the surrounding area. To be posted soon, just getting them put on CD. The Castle is also surrounded by a real live moat, teeming with real live turtles, swans, carp, cranes, ducks and these funny little bobbing diving birds that I've never seen before, maybe because of their timidity. The grounds around the castle boast a couple of amazing gates, a dodgy zoo and some beautiful park land and trees. Perfect for running around in the mornings before it gets too hot and mushiatsui.

Mushiatsui is my word of the week. Sensei taught it to me and it means humid. The perfect example of onomatopaia. Atsui means hot in Japanese, so you have mushy hotness: humidity. I love it! I've finally embarked on my dream of learning a martial art. I wanted to learn Shorinji Kempo, which has its international headquarters in the next town, Tadotsu, and is all zen and spiritual and idealistic. But Tyler, the teacher I'm replacing, took me along to his Karate class to check out and I'm loving it. Three hours, twice a week of full contact sweat and pain. Its hardcore, very focused and the guys there are really nice. More so than sailing, when in class I'm totally focussed and nothing else matters.

Tyler took me for a drive up the coast last week and its absolutely beautiful. Old style villages, dramatic mountains, its so . . . Japanese. That sounds kinda dumb I realise, but after my time in Korea I'm suprised at how "authentic" things look. There are rice paddies, vending machines and the houses l;ook old style, have proper Japanese style gardens with trees poodle polished into strange shapes that look like a caligraphy painting!

When Tyler goes in a couple of weeks I get his car, so I can get to class on Saturdays. That will be awesome though I'll miss him a lot. Camping stuff is really cheap here, as are some clothes. $50 for a pair of Carhartt shorts, but over $200 for a pair of Levis. Go figure, not that most people reading this would care anyway! But, I'm gonna get me some camping gear and go check out this island in my copious free time.

Right now I'm off for a swim. Nettie, my boss, paid for the first couple of months of a gym membership for me. They have nice equipment, but most importantly, a really nice pool that almost always empty. I've been doing laps almost everyday and then soaking in the attached Onsen, japanese style bath.

Some days it's better to stay in bed . . .

Unfortunately, when those days coincide with an international flight, trouble is bound to strike. But maybe it was for the best after all!!

So I've spent a couple of days hanging out in Bangkok, picked up some stuff I wanted for my computer, eaten yummy spring rolls and black sticky rice at May Kaidees vego restaurant, freaked out a little bit about how schmick Koh San Road has become; everything paved, new, even a new Starbucks aggrhhh. I wandered down to the flower market, one of my favourite places, and then over to Wat Po, my very favourite place, to chill out and get the best massage ever. When the guy tells me to turn over I realise to my embarrassment that I'm drooling over the pillow. Oops!

So all this is good until it comes time to leave on Sunday. I run out of the hotel quickly before leaving to pick up a copy of Kid A (I've lost mine) and some special Thai toothpaste. VCan't get either. No biggie.

I get a taxi to the airport and everything is fine until he doesn't have any change and sends me off to wander around with my Four Bags to find some. No one is helpful and I'm not in the mood for this. For the first time I find myself getting short with people. Time for a reality check and decent swig of Emergency Essence. This is Thailand. At check in I can't get a window seat. I'm two and a half hours early and despite all pleas and protest the woman won't be moved. Damn Japanese package tourists must have checked in at first daylight or something. An interesting lesson methinks for Japan, me who always wings it at the last minute but is rarely late.

At the other end, I have 50 minutes to get out of the airport and onto a train to stay at a friend of my bosses that night. So I'm kinda stressed, not really wanting to be stuck in Osaka with too much stuff! At quarantine I get drilled about where I'm staying. At immigration, when I finally get there: 2 people for 200 foreigners, it gets worse. I accidentally wrote 3 months on my card, but only have a 35 day ticket. I also wrote teacher as occupation but am coming in on a tourist visa. Alarm bells start ringing (metaphorically) and I wonder if it would be worse if I had written my usual "international espionage" on my arrival card.

I get taken off to the immigration holding cell, the little white room where they leave you to sweat whilst working out what to do with you. By now I'm in panicky tears realising that missing the last train isn't the worst option. What if I get deported?

Finally, I get released after a big lecture and promises not to work illegally. Phew!

The courier place to send my bags has closed. I can't get change for the equivalent of a $100 note I have in yen and need to ring my boss. Eventually someone helps me spend a lot of money getting an expensive hotel next to the airport.

I ring Nettie, my boss, and discover she's been trying to get hold of me for the last week; apparently if I'd caught that train I would have been really screwed. Kathy, her friend, has gone back to Australia because her grandmother passed away.

It can only get better, I think, as I drink my first Asahi in Japan and settle into a hot bath.