They say bad things happen in threes and as drove back through the mikan orchards I was wondering what the third would be when I thankfully remembered that I had left my lights on the days before and had had to get a jump start from the guys at the service station. This is not the first time this has happened. Japan is a mountainous country and there are lots of very long tunnels, often 2-3km long. Its very easy to forget to turn your lights off after you come out of a tunnel into broad daylight.
Number two had happened that morning: the first day of perhaps my only holidays this year, I had woken up with an evil cold, mixed in with a generous dosage of allergies. My back and shoulders had been aching for the past week and of course the virus chose this of all mornings to ambush my system.
My planned destination was the other side of the island to catch a ferry to Kyushu for a golden week of camping and hiking. My main priority was to visit Aso San, a smouldering caldera with a propensity to spit at the uninitiated... so much so that they have built concrete bunkers at the top for protection.
However after sniffing, sneezing, packing up my car and driving for a couple of hours whilst trying to ignore the jackhammer in my head, I was a little concerned by the lack of distance I was making. I was getting tired and wondering how much effort catching the ferry was going to take. Moreover, an earlier drink stop and glance at the map and guidebook had put the idea of Uchiko in my head; maybe I could see it and hope there was a boat to catch the next day. Then I passed the turnoff for Ishizuchi San, the highest mountain on Shikoku and another place I wanted to see. By this time hunger was jostling my increasing tiredness and it was time to find a nice spot for lunch. I pulled off the main road and headed towards the foothills.
I drove around the back of some mikan fields, ran into a dead end and whilst manoevering too quickly, dropped my back wheel into a three foot concrete ditch. My mother immediately turned around towards me, screamed "I told you so", pissed herself laughing and disappeared. Thanks mum. I needed that!
Sat there for a couple of minutes trying to grope my way through the enmeshing tiredness and come to terms with having to walk all the way back to the main road, flag down a passing car and try to explain my situation in bad Japanese. Imagined having to get a tow truck out here, the time and money it would cost and said goodbye to the boat there and then! Thank God this is Japan though and pretty much anyone could be guaranteed to help me.
Instead I found a nearby farmer and dragged him away from his orchard with many bows and pleas for assistance. I think with a mixture of broken sentences and hilarious gestures I even managed to communicate the embasarrasing fix I was in, which was something of an odd triumph considering the stupidity of my situation!
We jumped in his k-truck and headed back to inspect the damage; my back wheel hanging in mid air still trying to make up its mind whether to take on a forlorn or comical aspect.
My friendly farmer scratched his head and jumped down into the ditch from where he tried to lift the back of my car. Nothing happened to the car but I had a sudden image of him collapsing with a hernia. Luckily nothing happened to him either. He jumped back out of the ditch, scratched his head again, pulled out his keitai and called his mate who arrived shortly thereafter in an identical white k-truck. It bears mentioning at this time that farmers in Japan are an endangered species. I for one, have never seen one under sixty, and these guys were no exception.
After some discussion about the impossibility of using a jack, the second guy scratches his head,jumps down into the ditch and lifts... there's a reason why the first guy called this guy. The only problem is the handbrake is on! With it released, and me and the first guy pushing sideways, our friendly strongman succeeds in tossing my car out of the ditch and almost into the one on the opposite side of the road. I barely managed to jump nimbly into the front seat and yank the handbrake back on just in time.
Rumaging through my camping food I found some apples to give them, which they finally accepted after much insistance, and drove away pissing myself laughing. I'm absolutely positive I gave them a much more valuable present in the story they will probably being telling for years to come about the crazy gaigin girl driving into ditches across Shikoku. As I sat in my ent that night I smiled as I imagined them then and there telling the first version of the story to their farmer friends over glasses of sake.
