I wake up and immediately understand that the game plan has changed. I am sick again. I spend 3 days asleep and coughing in San Francisco.
Yum
Rather than riding over the purple sage in new truck, I only shuffle from bed to toilet. I eat nothing and drink water, which is extremely painful as someone has wire brushed my larynx. Ben and James look after me very well but I am unconscious most of the time.
Happy New Year to all.
The very well defined objective of this trip was to drive down to Death Valley and spend some days in the Geologist’s Cabin.
No-one goes here except me
It is very nice there. You can pretend to be a gold miner and we had got together the appropriate costumes. The cabin looks over an empty space about the same size as Luxembourg.
Hunting Jack Rabbits
This space is infested with feral mules whose forebears were abandoned by miners. They now only eat meat and it is difficult to form a meaningful relationship with them.
To get to the cabin you need a seriously4wheel drive thing. No success contacting Topher and anyroadupwards his truck is unlikely to be insured, registered or anything. https://quietripple.wordpress.com/2015/01/05/are-there-any-weapons-in-the-vehicle-guns-knives/
We look into renting something but this is not fruitful. Ben says, “Let’s buy a truck, I mean we are always going to need one.” Yay! Well done Ben.
We go to Craigslist, find the perfect truck in San Jose and buy it from a guy called Targ. It takes 25 minutes.
What a beautiful truck!
Targ throws in a camper shell that he bought for his dog
The reason that buying a truck becomes a sensible, well probably not sensible, but certainly feasible option is that parking on Fell is now reserved for residents, er like us. In the old days I would spend forever driving around trying to find a spot. Now you just park in front of the house. It makes all the difference.
It is a beautiful truck. Adventure time. Happy, happy, joy, joy!
Yay, James cooks an amazing cassoulet for Christmas dinner. It contains, pigs feet, a whole duck, chorizo, belly pork and the usual beans and stuff. It is a cold, brisk San Francisco night but we are snug in the Fell St house.
Very Cosy
Not for the fainthearted
We eat ferociously
L’entree
Ben buys 4 bottles of red at prices ranging from $2.99 to $34.99. He covers the bottles and we have to er guess which is the most to the least expensive. We all get it totally wrong . It is humiliating and revealing. I said that the $2.99 bottle was the second best.
Wine is a mocker
Lo, he abhors not the virgin’s womb
I always get to airports late. I usually get on the plane red faced and panting. Today’s flight leaves at 11:35. As it takes about a hour to get to Naha airport, I would normally leave my house at 10:00 ish. For some unknown reason I ask for the cab to come at 9:00. I think it was because my mental arithmetic is getting worse.
Anyway, my faithful buddy Kinjo San shows up at 9:00. He knows me well and we go through the ritual of passport? Ticket? Money? Everything daijuboo Neil sensei ? I say goodbye to my house, my car, my Scaffie, my truckette and my plumeria.
Off we go. I feel a little miffed asI will get to the airport far too early. Kinjo San puts on his shades as it is a beautiful, sunny morning. This prompts me to realize that I have forgotten my glasses, both light and dark. We are 15 minutes from the house so we turn around and go back to fetch them.
Off we go again. We are at Kitanakagusuku on the expressway when I realize that my Green Card is in my desk drawer. I do desperate calculation of chances of getting into U.S. without Green Card and realize I have no option. Gommenasai Kinjo San, Maeda onegaishimasu!
Kinjo San thinks this is the best fun and teases me cruelly all the way back to the house.
Kinjo san with Green Card
What larks! Thanks Kinjo san.
Off we go for the third time. There is little time but we make it and I get on the plane, red faced and panting.
What made me book the cab an hour early? Should I read significance into this?
Close run thing
Yay! Apparently that is what I am. Japan now has a new category of work visa. I amazingly get one. I drop off my application to the wonderful Kadena immigration office on Tuesday and on Thursday they call to tell me my visa is ready. I love Japan – everything works here.
Hooray!
I have heard it said that this visa simplifies application for resident status. This is my goal as it would allow me to grow old in Okinawa. Ok, I am already old but I intend to get somewhat older. Why stay in Okinawa in old age? Here are some arguments.
23 December
23 December
23 December
23 December. I think these are Little Stints. If so, they are right, dead, rare.
If I am going to stay here I need some kind of shelter. I drive North to talk to amazing architect Masak.
Something like this.
Inside
Outside
Sweet dreams are made of this.
I do very little all weekend other than watch the ospreys that fish in front of the house.
These are wonderful birds
Have you ever seen a rainbow like this?
Grey Tailed Tattler. Why Tattler?
Nice to do very little.
Big day today. Lots of action in Tokyo.
Uber VIP room Naha airport
A room in the Cabinet Office
Uber VIP room Haneda airport
This will probably have some impact on my future.
Rumi. Sebastien took this photo.
The very graceful Rumi san, even she of baby turtle fame,
https://quietripple.wordpress.com/2016/07/24/scramble/
He took this one also.
left a big bunch of bananas outside my door this morning. Thanks Rumi san.
She also left me more plumeria cuttings.
Rumi’s banana and plumeria trees.
I was invited to the Gakush Happyo Kai, well this is what it sounded like anyway,at the Onna elementary school. I think it means ‘ What we have been learning’ . It was truly happy making. Japanese kids are adorable.
The programme
Parents sit on floor
Nice day.
This is the name of a bike I have inherited. It is a very fine bike. You will remember it from ancient history in Okinawa. https://quietripple.wordpress.com/2011/06/11/la-zanahoria/
Anyroadupwards, this incredibly high quality instrument has now become mine. I am very happy. What about Big Red you ask?
Big Red just after I purchased her in San Francisco in 2010
Big Red was my companion through one of the healthiest periods of my life. She powered me all around San Francisco and subsequently around Okinawa.
She never done me no wrong
I got lazy, I cycled less, the real crunch was my knee operation which rendered me old and creaky. I left poor Big Red outside in the howling storm.
Japanese are bikeheads
A very fine pump
I ride my bike.
Big Blue?
Susy? As in supersymmetry.
New bike, I will keep you inside away from the invisible worm. I promise
So Tricolor are a very accomplished and creative bunch. It has been my privilege to spend time with them. They play Irish music that is so Japanese. Check out this video. Incidentally they do all the filming and direction.
Anyway they are in Okinawa. I play with them on Saturday night. This actually puts severe strain on my abilities. Musically clearly, as these people are seriously skilled musicians who understand stuff like harmony, playing in tune, different keys and stuff. I do not. The real strain comes from driving down to Naha in a continual traffic jam and then trying to find somewhere to park.
Peace and love
We play in a bar and it is incredible. Very good Irish traditional music for hours in Naha, Okinawa. How does that happen?
I drive home, having drunk water all night. I go to bed at 2:00 am. This is very unhealthy.
The next day, or today if you wish, is Open Campus at OIST. 5,000 people show up. Tricolor play in a corner.
Peace and love
Ani san wants me to shut up. Nakatoh san and Tomoko san are typically indulgent.
Anyway great fun and it is restorative to be with such creative people who are totally devoid of vanity. Not many scientists are like that.
Anyway buy all Tricolors albums.
Just for my own archive, my sporran went to it recently. I bought her in 1980 in Glasgow in the full flush of my youth. Okinawa did not agree with her and the sealskin, of which she is made, shed. Trying to strap her onto my huge bulk recently was too much for her and one of the straps broke. RIP faithful sporran.
Not on these green hills of Tyrol
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The Quiet Ripple Defines The Pond 