Probably the worst thing that happened during my ongoing idyll in Okinawa, was the fire that destroyed Shuri Jo. https://thequietripple.com/2019/11/01/shuri-jo/

The palace is now being rebuilt and one fund raising project is placing containers outside supermarkets into which you can drop unwanted clothes. These clothes are magically transformed into money.

WordPress will not let me add captions at the moment, which is a shame as I enjoyed it.

Anyway, here is the box and you can see my bag of very high quality items. I throw away my two remaining suits and several dress shirts.I have not worn a suit for 3 years. I also donate a very high quality Donegal Tweed jacket, which I have not worn for 10 years.

Can you spot the Donegal Tweed? It pleases me that my jacket is contributing to the restoration of Shuri Jo.

I break my Raybans. In fact I broke them during the Nagano adventure but glued them together. It was never going to be a long lasting solution.

I go to a glasses shop thing that lives in the corridor of one of the local supermarkets.

Naturally there is totally, smiling, let’s have fun, assistant. We have no common language other than Google translate. I choose my glasses and explain that I am shortsighted and will need prescription lenses. She tests my eyes but does not think her machine is precise enough.

This is the machine.

She points out that due to my age, my eyesight, like everything else, is changing. She recommends a proper examination by an ophthalmologist. I am not against this as I had problems with my eyes a couple of years ago in Mexico. https://thequietripple.com/2019/01/20/the-curse/

Using Google Maps, she shows me the whereabouts of the nearest ophthalmologist. Thank you Google, none of this would have been possible without you.

I make a few points to Larry Page back in the day.

The Eye Doctor people take me immediately. I go through a rigorous sequence of tests, again bolstered by Google. I then have a chat with a doctor who says my eyes are old but have no problems. I get a new prescription. Japan’s health service pays.

I scoot back to the supermarket corridor and meet my new friend. I give her the prescription and ask if I can also get a new pair of clear lens glasses for driving on the rare occasion that the sun is not hammering down.

They are ready in 20 minutes. She says she will contact me when the sunglasses are ready.

She does not ask for my phone number. Instead we rub our phones together to establish a LINE connection. LINE is the way to communicate in Japan.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Line_(software)

I love it! It does phone calls, video chats; you can send photos, videos and a whole lot of other stuff. What I really like is that you can add all sorts of playful animations and images. It is free.

Rainy season hypothesis was proved as fact yesterday when it rained like crazy.

Incredible rain!

Kiyuna san and I go down to the boat this morning. We have no worries as my cover is unassailable. We talk starter motor stuff and vaccinations. He will never be vaccinated. In fact most of the people I, er, hang out with refuse vaccination. So strange. I think it is deeply linked to the ongoing respect for non chemical medicine in Japan.

I have a Zoom meeting with my family in the UK. I tell my new glasses story and they oint out that that would be impossible in the UK as opticians have been closed for a year. You can only go to the dentist for emergencies. I realize that many people have had it much tougher than we Okinawans.

The boat post dreadful rain.

I cook my Octopus.

Something out of an alien movie.

Curly wurly.

Cook, cook, cook, that octopus.

I intend to tempura some and serve it on cold, cold soba, to which I have become addicted since the trip to Nagano. The rest, I will turn into Coctel.

I love Octopus.