One last winding road... A journey to the West.

Mostly a whole lot of nothing happens in Malaysia. Morning training, breakfast, afternoon training, lunch, evening training, dinner, rest, repeat until weekend, clean the clinic, go to town to kill time, overheat, repeat until the final days of the journey.

Somehow Malaysia feels close to home though. I more or less know how to exist here, and the accent and quirks of speech of the locals soaking English sound familiar, whether I can understand them or not. Staying at the clinic is old news, but trying new things at restaurants nearby is not unrewarding.

The five weeks pass by quickly and I make my last stop in Kuala Lumpur with my training brother. A short trip to Port Klang is made, Little India and Chinatown are visited, good times are had. On my last night I enjoy watching a thunderstorm from a high balcony at my friend's apartment.

The next day is spent packing and sending my training brother off to the bus station. After that, all there is left to do is to get myself to the airport and be on my way again. The way home is long, but finally having my own space again will be much appreciated.

Any place under the sun... Maybe next time.

My intention was to go around Taiwan and invest heavily on the East side and its nature. I also wanted to take a nature trail from Sun Moon Lake to Alishan mountain and sleep somewhere in between. However, my biggest fan, the typhoon, found me again, destroyed the road to Alishan and a bridge to the East side, as well as stopping most trains, immobilising me in Douliu.

I do not complain though. My host is just great, and the mood of heavy rain is not bad. After waiting out the rain I visit my host's hometown and am taken to Sun Moon Lake, which is a major disappointment. No nature trail, and the views are mostly ruined by urban design. There is no way I would stay there overnight. My host finds me another place to stay for the night before I go to Kaohsiung.

Moving on to Kaohsiung, I find yet another host who meets me with a friend and they take me to see the sunset at a harbour. We climb a small rock to get a better view, even though people try to stop us, saying it is dangerous. It is not. After sunset we have dinner and my host explains to me that because of family staying over I cannot, but it does not matter because there is again another person to put me up for the night. In the morning I go out with one of the people I met last night to eat a bowl of great beef noodles and I try to commit the taste to memory so I might be able to recreate it at home.

Having left part of my travel belongings to Douliu, I have to stop there to pick them up before returning to Taipei.

My final host turns out to be a nice person, to none of my surprise. With a friend she helps me to gather gifts and we have good foods. My mind is already in Malaysia though, and during my last day in Taiwan I only try to make the time pass faster so that I can more quickly step on the plane and be on my way.

Seeing the natural parts of Taiwan, camping out and wandering did not happen this time. These I will have to leave for another visit.

Typhoon tamer, snake eater.

One day Formosa is beautiful and the sun casts a golden glow over the island. The next day the typhoon strikes. I wonder if it will follow me home when the time comes to return. I move from Taipei to Zhongli, where I have the chance to eat snake in a soup. It is disappointingly stale, but I hear that in one district in Taipei it is possible to find something a little more special. Fortunately I will go to Taipei again later.

While struggling through the spiny meat, a man I come to know only as the Boss joins my and my host's table. He speaks no English, but my host translates. When the Boss was younger, he went to New Zealand where his lack of language skill was a trouble. However, he met a Chinese-speaking man who showed him around and helped him in many ways. He says that because of this, he wants to give me a similar experience and asks if I am free the following day. I am.

In the morning, however, I have another appointment. My host is a high school teacher, and he asked me if I would like to go speak to his class in the morning. He had already promised I would to his students. I gladly go, of course. The students seem thrilled to have a visitor and ask me many questions. Sadly I was not prepared to ask them anything, so when the time comes when they wonder if I want to ask something, in my mind I only have silly things such as "why do young Taiwanese not drink tea" or "why does every Taiwanese consistently want to 'ax' me a question".

After class, an employee of the Boss, accompanied by two of the Boss's kids, picks me up. We go to a farm to meet the Boss and see lotus flowers, after which we go for lunch in a place that serves Hakka cuisine. Then we go to enjoy tea at the Boss's office. He asks which teas I like and then offers me some of them as a gift, not taking a "no" for an answer. I am left with the feeling that the combined worth of these gifts plus the meals of the day is more than my life, but the Boss wants me to think nothing of it.

In the evening the Boss invites my host and his friends for dinner. My host cannot make it because of his work, but five of his friends join me, the Boss and his family. The Boss orders all kinds of animals for us to eat, frog and turtle among the more interesting ones. It seems I am allergic to turtle meat as well. Oh well. One of my host's friends chats with me in Japanese while the rest speak Chinese among themselves.

Throughout the day I have had fierce stomach cramps, which somehow amplify the surreal feel of the day. After returning to my host, they subside and let me sleep peacefully.

Bruce Lee days... To new lands.

In my final days in China I visit a vast tea market to purchase some fine quality goods. Apart from that, most of the final days before Hong Kong are mostly idle waiting, though I manage to find some appropriate gifts.

In Hong Kong I meet friends again, starting with a welcome lunch and being shown around town a little. I managed to shake the typhoon off my trail back in Japan, but it found me again in Hong Kong. Unimpressed by heavy rain and fallen trees, we drop my still cumbersome luggage at my friend's apartment and head to a market to purchase ingredients for the night's dinner. My friends remember my kitchen skills from when they visited my home and I gladly offer to prepare dinner in exchange for lodging.

Despite the weather I go out with one of my friends the next day to see three Avenue of Stars and pose for a picture next to the statue of Bruce Lee. We also visit a marketplace where we strike a bargain for a Bruce Lee T-shirt shirt, which is nice. On the evening I cook again, this time a speciality of mine that turns out to be a modified version of Shanghai dumplings. My friend's mother plays lottery, using my birthyear as one of her lucky numbers.

In the morning my friend's family treats me to a massive breakfast, courtesy of the mother, who won a sum of money from the lottery. I write down dishes that I like in Asia to my journal and ask my friend to also mark down the Chinese names, in proper characters and phonetically, of the Chinese and Hong Kong ones.

After sending my second parcel home, I spend the day in Mong Kok eyeing the shopping district but refraining from buying anything. I check into a guesthouse after slightly haggling the price down. This area would be simply great for practising that particular skill. In the evening I eat some delicious food from street stalls before tucking in for the night.

Come morning, I dig out my deck of cards and work half a Karl Gotch Bible to wake myself up. I meet my friend one more time for lunch and make my way to there airport to catch my flight, only to find out it has been canceled due to weather conditions. I wonder if the sun catches the pilots' eyes in such a terrible way, as the skies are clear in both Hong Kong and Taiwan. After queuing for quite a while, I am transferred to another airline and make it to a new land only an hour later than expected. There I meet friends again, and we drive to a teahouse on a mountain near Taipei to have fine tea under a starry sky. There is nothing more I could ask for.

All the roads we have to walk are winding.

I wake up early to catch the sunrise. After a short time of waiting I start my descent, visiting all other peaks but the West peak in the process. My former fear of heights seems to be almost completely gone.

I am quite happy with my decision to take on the mountains alone. Though the experience is worthy of sharing, climbing alone bears a certain boast and a different feeling of accomplishment. In addition, I cannot think of many others who would agree to sleep on bare stone or keep up with the pace I took to ascend.

After descending from Mt. Hua I read it is considered one of the most dangerous hiking trails in the world. This information changes nothing, and would not have changed a thing even if I had known it before climbing. It is still morning, and after having lunch for breakfast I set out to find a hostel to stay at. I happen into a supremely cheap place, which is approximately the dirtiest place I have ever spent time in. Hardly anything works, but I do not care. I rest for a while before going out to town to kill time and have dinner. In the evening I do some slight training in my grimy room, take a shower and rest.

The next day I return to Zhengzhou to meet my friend at the train station. That day we only rest, and on the following days we spend quite a deal of time only having tea and discussions. We also visit an antique market, where I purchase some curiosities and gifts. A mute artisan carves me a name chop out of onyx, and I am fairly sure I shall scarcely use it.

Before leaving for Guangzhou, I want to take all I can from the discussions , so we stay up late over tea every night until my departure. I find it peculiar that this could happen, though it is what I awaited from the visit. A chance encounter from almost a year ago left me with a dear friend.

Finally it is time to leave early in the morning. There are no hard goodbyes, merely a promise to meet again. My road takes me through Wuhan to Guangzhou, which means spending another whole day in a train. This gives me time to think. Again. The road is long and winding indeed.

Stranger in a strange land... No limit.

I am writing this at the Southern Peak of Mt. Hua, elevation 2154,9 metres. It took me just short of five hours to get here.

During my first days in Henan, I am taken to Luo Yan grottoes to see enough Buddhas for a lifetime, Bai Ma temple to see some more and a family dinner where people immediately make the assumption that I wish to marry my friend. Reminds me of a similar assumption made by certain other people in the past.

I am also taken to Shaolin Temple by my friend and her friends, but at this point relics are not very interesting to me. Also, someone loses our tickets so we cannot go see the monks give a martial arts presentation. I do not much care, as things quickly got to a point where the rest speak Chinese among themselves and I, hating to interrupt, leave myself out of the conversation completely. In the evening, as another person joins, I learn how to make steamed buns and take a long walk. People stare at me on the street quite shamelessly.

In the evening I am informed that the plans of travelling with my friend have changed completely. There would be another person accompanying us to mountains and a trip around China is not going to happen. I think long and hard during the night and wake up early to catch my friend and inform her that all things considered, it is best if I go to the mountains alone. Both of us are upset at how the situation has evolved, but after an argument, discussion and agreement, it is decided that I will take to the mountains alone.

And I am glad that I do. I first go to Mt. Tai. The train trip there is pure torment, nine hours in a car with people with no sense of personal space at all. The mountain is quite disappointing. At first, naturally I am worried if I do it alone, and I think I must be crazy to climb a mountain in the dark. It turns out there is no climbing involved, and it is merely a three-hour hike up some stairs. At the top I rent a coat and sleep on a rock basin for a few hours before waking up to see the sunrise. Sadly it is very cloudy and not much can be seen. I sleep for a while longer in a nook without wind and hike back down to kill time before hopping on a train back to Zhengzhou. Arriving, I get a ride on a flimsy vehicle, the main building materials of which seem to be optimism and the sense of danger. This is not helped by the driver going against the stream on one-way streets.

The next day I take on Mt. Hua, which is considerably less a pleasant walk to scenic places. The climb takes some time and I do not stop for sightseeing as it is already dark, but at last I reach the Southern Peak. There, I dry my clothes a little in the wind, have a modest supper, find a place with the least wind and fall asleep so hard I am sure my body leaves an imprint on the stone.

In transit, in waiting.

Three cheers for The Party, which forbids me from publishing photos while here. I will update these entries from the jurisdiction of Hong Kong.

After waking up, I almost immediately leave for the train station after thanking my host for the night. I buy the first possible ticket for Zhengzhou and set out to kill time, which is a little easier said than done when one does not speak the local language.

I make it to Tiananmen square to check out the sights there a little. As someone who is decidedly unimpressed about sights, especially urban ones, it does not take too long for me to simply start strolling about and thinking about what to do next. It is then that I run into someone offering tours to the great wall and, when I say I have no time for it, to just guide me about town for a while. I agree, and express my wishes for tea. This one takes me to a famed tea house where I gladly drink some Longjing tea. Due to my guide's limited skill of English and my nonexistent skill of Chinese, conversation is not very deep, but good to pass the time nonetheless.

After tea I ask if I could have lunch and am promptly taken to a nearby restaurant to remind myself how much I like Chinese food. I thank my guide and catch a taxi to the train station. It seems I miscalculated and therefore miss the train. I head to the ticket office to exchange my ticket, and when the person behind the glass says the next available ticket is tomorrow, I almost want to start a fight. However, another person manages to inform me that for a small extra fee I can take the train after two hours in first class. I do not need to think twice.

The trip is uneventful. In the evening I meet my friend, who is a sight for sore eyes. Arriving to her home, it is time for supper and soon for rest.

Goodbyes and greetings.

On the day second to last in Japan, I meet a girl who was hosted by my family some seven years ago. Though we merely walk around before a light dinner, I have once again the wonderful feeling that everything is taken care of. After having dinner and exchanging pleasantries we part ways, and before I return to my host's home, I make a final visit to the Weird Café in Osaka Station City. There people there seem surprised and happy to see that I come back alive to redeem the promise I made as I took my leave earlier. I wait until closing time to catch another photo of them. This time I am also in the photo with them.

The next day I send a parcel to myself. I should remember to send a written permission to my friend so that he can pick the parcel up in my place. The rest of the afternoon passes on trains and waiting for check-in.

As a coincidence, the only non-Asian person on there plane sits next to me. We chat for the duration of the flight, transit and next flight, as our destination is the same. Arriving in Beijing, I meet my new, Bosnian acquaintance's two friends, one from Taiwan and the other from China. Everyone speaks Japanese, which is then used as the lingua franca for the evening. These new faces help me check for train schedules. As there is no night train to where I want to be and meet my friend, they invite me to hunt for a hostel to stay at. None can be found, since I have no reservation and most places are fully booked at this time. We divide the group into two, two staying at a hostel where they have a booking and me and the Chinese one continuing our search. After a while of driving around and coming up empty-handed, she makes the judgement that I am not a bad man and says I can stay at her hotel room for the night and that she will help me catch a train in the morning.

The friendliness, shower and comfortable bed are welcome and it does not take long for me to fall asleep. It would be an early morning the next day.

From Dragon Gate back to Comedian's town.

The final days in Kyoto are enjoyable. For the most part I simply enjoy the feeling of the town and Kamogawa river as well as the company of my host and her other guests. We enter a language exchange party, which turns out to be less than thrilling. Mostly people stick to their own tables with people they already know. After eating, I slightly chat with a young man sitting next to me.  He seems bored out of his wits, and I talk him into going somewhere with me. He does not put up a fight.

After all we end up mostly walking around some streets and talking about nothing in particular. Bars seem to be a perfect storm of boring and too expensive so we do not go inside. I am corrected about my blue-eyed assumption that "girls bars" are posh establishments only females may enter. After walking around for a while we exchange contact information and go our separate ways.

The next day promises me one thing and one thing only. Regardless of that, I still visit the Gion area to see a garden and check out shopping possibilities. There I buy two scarves that I end up tying around my messenger bag. They might come in handy as torques, or at least to tie around my hear to prevent sweat from dripping into my eyes when things get hot.

In the evening I go to see a show of Dragon Gate Pro. As expected, it is amazing. After the show I go to exchange a word with the champion trio of Masato Yoshino, Naruki Doi and Pac, asking for a photo together with them as well as Dragon Kid and BxB Hulk. The Englishman takes the lead in the conversation, telling me that if I can wait until they are finished with autographs, he will find me in the arena for the photographs. Indeed he does, and immediately tells me I speak perfect Japanese. He and his teammates briefly lament the absence of an audience in Finland, as they assure me they would want to perform there as well. If only...

Pac then disappears to go find the other two, and quickly comes back to inform me they are coming right up. My language skills are again commended before the pictures. I cannot tell if BxB Hulk is discomfited by the situation, or just playing his heel role very well. Afterwards, I make my way to base to prepare dinner.

The next day I move back to Himeji for two nights. It is mostly uneventful, though I visit a hot spring bath in a nearby town. My host is the same as last time, and he is polite as ever. He seems a little sickly, which makes me feel slightly uncomfortable. I find a host in Osaka for the remainder of my stay in Japan. This one is more lively and reminds me of two people I have met earlier. Without a clear plan I merely walk to a post office nearby to purchase a box in which I can send excess baggage home while my host goes to pick up groceries. Afterwards we have dinner and then talk until I am exhausted and go to sleep.

Nothing like the rain... Ise revisited.

With no clear plan in sight for a day, I head to Ise, where I went near the beginning of my trip. On the way there it starts to rain. Naturally I forgot to take my umbrella with me.

I find my way back to the old part of town near the inner shrine I visited earlier. By this time it is really pouring. I walk around for a while and note that two of the tea shops I saw on the earlier visit are closed. I then sit down to eat at the same restaurant I went to earlier, and have exactly the same Ise speciality noodles with fried prawn I had last time. Before I leave there, my waiter insists that I take an umbrella from the ones they have lying around at the shop. This is a nice surprise.

I then take a look at one of the tea shops. After a long, hard search, I end up buying a small teapot. It is not perfect, but close to it.

When I decide it is time to leave, I ask for directions at a convenience store, promptly being guided to the nearest station. At the parking lot, a man in a car signals me and asks if I am going to the station and says he can give me a ride. For a moment I stall for time and try to figure out if he wants something. Turns out he does, but it is only to save me the trouble of walking to the station. Not all goodwill is gone from the world.

Kyoto hospitality.

I found a host in Kyoto quite easily. Originally I had another as well, so as to take some load off of one host, but the other failed to let me know about contact details and seemed to lose interest in the whole affair. Fortunately the host who could deliver is very open to well-meaning vagrants and lets me stay for a long time. There are also other people in the house when I arrive, which makes the apartment more lively. For better or worse. One of them leaves after one night and the others soon follow.

I have an appointment with a friend the day following my arrival. We meet for the first time, but the atmosphere of the day is not at all like that. We visit the Silver and Gold temples as well as the Zen rock garden. The Kamogawa riverside catches my fancy and we also spend a long time there. In the evening we have the first meal in Japan that I do not fully enjoy, because it is a kind of European style meal and the taste too familiar. Afterwards we part ways, richer for the experience.

The next day I meet another local friend for lunch and another long walk and hangout at the riverside. We also cross the river on rocks, which is nicely cooling as the river washes over the rocks and the feet of those crossing. After parting I wander around for some time, only slightly lost. Eventually I return to my host's apartment, which serves as a base of operations for now. I also make sure that I have a place to go when I return to Himeji one week later.

During the few days of idleness I try to search for the perfect teapot, but much to my chagrin, do not find it. Though visiting more than a handful of stores, I find many good teapots but not a single perfect or even great one.

I do manage to find some other gifts to bring back to myself and others though, so it is not all for naught.

Facing the storm... Iga Ninpouchou!

In the morning a typhoon has come to town. Heavy rain and strong winds send us on our way to pick up the one from Yokkaichi to join us to the ninja village of Iga.

Naturally, upon entering the ninja village, we Don appropriate costumes so as to stay hidden casually. The village is a kind of a tourist tour, but it is fun to try trapdoors and see all kinds of tools and gadgets. After the tour we way lunch and head for a game centre. Sadly there is no Street Fighter IV. We play around with some games but nothing really catches our attention. We also take a look around a shopping mall, but end up buying nothing, though a small electric guitar with a built-in amplifier seems fun. The typhoon reaches some places inside the malls as well. It also destroys my umbrella. Towards the evening we have Japanese style cutlets for dinner and start getting everyone home after making sure that my next stop is Kuwana once again. Throughout the day conversations have been mostly in Japanese. Many times I have had to resort to pretending to understand and then guessing the intended heaving after the fact. But it does not matter, as everything had been fun from start to finish.

Friendly faces, part III

The final day in Tokyo. After some slight trouble, I meet another person I was originally supposed to meet. We stroll Harajuku and I end up buying a kind of coat. The chance to shower the night before was much appreciated, but does not do much good as the day is really hot.

In the evening I go to see a show by Wrestling New Classic at a small venue. As I talk to the owner of the promotion during the break, I am mistaken for a wrestler. An easy mistake to make, I guess. After the show I talk to two of my favourites out of those performing, and when I tell them I came all the way from Finland to see them, their faces are worth seeing. I also get a picture with both of them in hopes of making my namesake in Finland green with envy. The photo with Shuri Kondo looks pollute I am the wrestler and she the fan. An easy mistake to make, I guess. I take the night bus to Nagoya after finding out there are no more trains available. In the morning I am in desperate need of a shower and doing laundry. After a stroll through one part of town I have a meagre breakfast and find an Internet café. Sadly, this I've does not have shower service. I book a room to charge my phone and to take a nap anyway. Afterwards, the staff gladly directs me to a place that has a shower. Unfortunately it is a misleadingly named "relaxation club". After a long time of walking and not being able to take a bath, one would easily think "oh boy, that's exactly what I need", and enter with pure and purifying intentions. Naturally,a relaxation club is actually a place where the staff's faces are concealed, where one can go relieve sexual tension by renting adult material. And they do not even offer the possibility of merely taking a shower without renting a room. Not that it matters, as showering in such a place would be more than slightly disgusting. After a brief consideration I set out to search for a bath house. Only a short while later I enter one, slightly confused about how to exist in such a place. I manage to gather enough information from watching the other patrons, and then start using the facilities as best as I can. And it is absolutely relaxing. Stiffness and grime melt away. There is also a sauna and a cold bath to satisfy a Northern spirit. After purification I set out for the train station to meet a friend and his crony who visited my house earlier this year. Upon seeing him I immediately get the feeling that I am in good hands and that everything is taken care of. This one does not speak much English, and the crony also speaks mostly rudimentary English. It does not matter one bit. We have dinner and go to another bath house where I drink a sparkly drink called "Kamen cider". This is, of course, a pun related to Kamen riders. Funny as all hell. After another cleansing we make it to my friend's house. We have a sleeping space for three on the floor, which reminds me of olden days of sleepovers. In the end, Mr. Sandman quickly drops the People's elbow on me and I am easily knocked out.

A hero, a shinobi and a maid walk into a bar...

The ace in my sleeve is on the table and all bets are off. Mostly that means that I abuse the local train system for all that it's worth.

I made my way back to Tokyo only to idly stroll about the city once again. I did go to see if Roppongi has anything interesting. Sadly the case is that I have hardly any idea what I want to find, so I silently leave for Akasaka. I happen into a bar where an American man is singing while playing a guitar. After his song the owner returns order to the place by playing records. It is just me, the American and the owner in the room. As is usual, I order tea only. The American, visibly drunk, strikes a conversation and spills his guts about how he is fighting the good fight to save Japan from American ideals. A real hero, this one. After he is done giving me sage advice he leaves. I stay behind and the owner of the place displays his impressive collection of old music. I should be more careless about my camera trigger finger, I think.

I then start asking about the famed Ninja restaurant in Akasaka. The owner and a regular patron help me out and even kindly draw me a mayo to get there. On the way I see people standing in line for Hooters. The ninja place is thoroughly entertaining with ninja this and that. From a secret passage entrance shuriken-shaped appetisers to ninja parlor tricks between meals, it is an experience worth having. Everyone is dressed like the people of the shadows one sees in ninja films and the menu is a scroll. Mostly everything is accompanied by mysterious hand gestures and the staff speaks in an even more respectful manner than in other establishments. The one they call a ninja magician displays sleight of hand between courses. As one who is not easily impressed I must be a difficult customer for him. His last trick, though, forces a smile on my face. He proclaims he will disappear, makes more hand gestures and chants a short mantra, then picks up his trick box and calmly walks away.

In true ninja fashion they spy my nationality by bringing in a new waitress towards the end of the course. In idle chat she asks where I am from before my original waitress leads me out through another secret passage. As I turn my back to leave, the kunoichi tells me to wait a moment. When I face her again, she unfolds a scroll that has "see you again" written in Finnish. I take a bow and leave for Asakusa. It is late, and I go to sleep in a capsule hotel. It is surprisingly comfortable, and there is a much needed bathing facility. At some point I have fallen slightly ill, which reduces the quality of my sleep.

The next day I meet yet another friend. Sadly he is quite busy and we only spend a short time. We go to a natural history museum, which is nice for a change. Too bad I cannot read nearly any of the texts accompanying the exhibits. After lunch we say goodbye and I take a ride on the metro again.  I end up in Akihabara, which is kind of the neon light hell I expected Tokyo to be. I spend a few hours going around the interesting hobby stores, and suddenly I want to buy all the battle mechs. Unfortunately my money and luggage are limited, so I let it alone. I also visit the awesomely named Backdrop (or Bakkudoroppu, as the locals would say) store in hopes of finding some wrestling stuff to bring home. Sadly the stuff there is mostly connected to American wrestling, so I choose to not spend my money there. It its back to the streets then.

As the evening starts turning towards night, I decide to visit a maid café, of which there are plenty here, because why not. I would soon see why not. The place is too pink to exist and the music and the maids' voices are like my ears are being filled with cotton candy. The maids also walk up to patrons, making a kind of heart gesture with their hands and trying to get the patrons to follow in a cutesy rhyme. They are not amused by my not being amused by this. After the minimum one order of iced cocoa, I leave. I do not feel comfortable in such a place.

I go to spend the night at yet another a Internet café. So far my lodging has been in a shady motel, a love hotel, slightly suspicious overnight cafés, a capsule hotel and now this place. It is comparatively classy and very quiet. There is not enough space to sleep properly though. It does not matter, as I have the chance to recharge my phone, get in touch with the guy I am meeting the next day and take a shower in the morning. A new day will see me leave Akihabara behind after visiting the Gundam café, which is much less interesting than the name would suggest.

East side.

In Kuwana, there is no adventure. There is, however, a supremely kind host. I feel at ease especially after being allowed to leave my medicine and luggage there. Finally, after this I don't have to care where I spend nights! I also meet my host's friends for two potluck parties. I cook dumplings with my own secret recipe one evening. One morning we also go to a shrine. There is a horse inside a small building, and for some reason I find that amusing. On my last night in Mie prefecture, I go to Yokkaichi for dinner with my friend once more. Like my friend and host before her, my friend's mother also gives me the gift of tea. I have not even made it to a tea shop and I already have four packs of tea in my bag.

I go to Tokyo for a day. It is enough. First I take a walk near the main train station but find nothing particularly interesting, then take off for Harajuku. There, I wander around for a while, enjoy a small dinner and after strolling for a while longer go to spend the night in an Internet café. After hearing warnings of thieves and other unwanted types, I rig the sliding door to my small room with a coat have so that our cannot be fully opened. I sleep well enough and in the morning take off once again.

Judging by my two visits to Asia, once I enter the corner of the world in question, I become a bit of a racist. Other westerners stick out like a clown suit at a funeral. As if I, with my flowing golden hair, would not. Tokyo, for one, seemed to have way too many tourists for my taste. So, contrary to my original plan, I take the train to Sendai.

I stroll the streets until exhaustion again. I finally do make it to some tea shops but leave empty-handed for now. After a while I go to Izumi on a whim, but once again only end up measuring the streets instead of finding an onsen as I wanted. Defeated but not quite beaten, I head back to Sendai in the hopes that I can at least take a shower or bath. Tomorrow, I go back to Tokyo. The thought is not frightfully appealing, but at least I will meet another friend there.

Friendly faces, part II.

In the morning my host takes me to see Himeji castle. I am not very fond of sightseeing, but the castle's and castle grounds' atmosphere is quite relaxing. Walking the castle's hallways, I woe my poor photographing skills, lack of a better camera and a worthy opponent. The hallways and gardens seem like fine grounds for a duel or, failing that, at least for some photographic evidence.

I meet a friend whose last name translates to "Demon grave". It is by my rough estimates the coolest name ever. We talk almost strictly in Japanese, even though I feel like I hardly understand even half of what is being said. By my friend or by myself.

Another day of having a good time and I return to my host in Himeji. I kind of get a little lost at the final stretch, but that just counts for light evening exercise. In the morning I take off for Osaka station once again. It's an early awakening but if I am not mistaken, trains are made for sleeping in them. I wait for my friend at the station for a while and she arrives with cavalry. In a few minutes I am being driven around in a small van towards Ise shrine, listening to fun music and conversing in mixed English, Japanese and a tiny bit of Finnish as well. I fumble through words and especially endings, but friend and cavalry remark my Japanese is very good and sounds like the Osaka dialect at times. What luck.

We visit a charming small town. After lazily walking around its market and checking out different stands and some tea we have Ise udon for lunch after which we find an ATM that gets me back in the game. Then we visit the village's shrine before heading back to the village. My friend wants a posing photo with me and I happily oblige. Afterwards my friends treat me to a gift of tea, we contact my host in Kuwana and go eat a fancy-ish dinner. They hide the check and pay in secret so I have no chance to participate in sharing the costs. Then we go to Kuwana where we say goodbye. I meet my host and her friends and family. We talk for quite a while before tucking in for the night.

Friendly faces.

As my last night at a hotel draws near, I ask my Internet enablers at Wired Café to assume a fighting pose for a keepsake photo. I also assure them that, much like the Terminator, I'll be back. Then I wave them goodbye, leave, come back to get my luggage which I nearly forgot, wave goodbye again and leave for good this time.

There is a small problem with carrying a three-month supply of insulin. Namely, as the savvy might already know, that it should be kept cold. This I have achieved with the help of hotel minibars and a cold bag. This time at the hotel I find out that the minibar does not take kindly to customers' own things. So after washing dirty clothes and a dirtied man in the bathtub, I fill it with cold water and what little ice I have and stick my medicine floating in it in a plastic bag. I stuff the cold bag in the minibar using some violence and hit the sheets hard.

Finally at the dusk of my first week on the road I meet a friend. About time, too. We spend the day doing nothing of importance and I have my first taste of takoyaki, which is immediately something I also want to learn to make at home. I have to give credit to those film characters who are cronies from different countries, who all speak different languages but yet everyone understands everything. Though there was a theoretical possibility of speaking mixed English, Finnish, Japanese and Swedish and being like The Expendables, only not quite, we stuck with boring old English. Maybe next time.

After a tiring day of having a good time, I take my damned luggage and zoom to Himeji, where my first host awaits. The guy is very nice and we talk until battle fatigue takes its toll.

Jump for joy?

So arriving to Japan was not exactly the triumph and joy it might have been. After sitting down at the Kansai international airport to think about my next move, I went to get a ticket to get to Osaka proper. No biggie. After a brief consideration, I decided to buy a four-day Kansai pass and save my all Japan rail pass gambit for later. Turns out one needs to present one's return ticket along with other documents to be eligible for the pass. As I do not possess one, I had to settle for just buying a one-way ticket and go nod off in the train.

Arriving to Osaka I struggled to find a wi-fi connection, which was a doomed attempt. After strolling through the main train station, I found a café which offered use of tablets, those devils' devices. It didn't take me long to find out I had been forgotten by one of my hosts, postponed by another, declined by yet another and ignored by the rest. So let the good times roll again. However, I made my way to Nishinomiya in hopes that one of the hosts would feel the evil pressure of bad karma and contact me. It seems that letting this one be stranded is not such a great source of bad karma.

After cursing this rotten luck, I went to a jolly noodle place for eats. The owner kept on apologising for his slowness and the low quality of the food. It was easy to see he did not mean it, but that was a-OK since the noodle stuff was actually quite good. I then asked the owner about a cheap hotel nearby and he promptly directed me to an expensive one. Not much later I had wandered off and found a considerably cheaper place. The clerk spoke not one word of English, but I struggled to get a room. The place was seedy, one of those places where they offer pay-on-demand adult material on TV. I felt like Fox Mulder for a moment. But taking a bath and brushing my teeth turned the day ever so slightly towards victory. Tomorrow would bring a new challenge.

Leaving Europe after the rain.

Behind lies a marginally exhausting train trip which leaves me earnestly happy that I shan't meet Finnish people in their natural habitat for the next three months. Ahead lies some 24 hours in airplanes and airports. It is five in the morning and there is absolutely no sign of travel stress. I reckon it might kick in after check-in, right before boarding the plane. Maybe later today I will realise I will be gone for three months.

Despite all doubts, check-in was painless and I will board the plane shortly. I will be going to Osaka through Frankfurt and Hong Kong. Good times ahead.

Waiting at airports is boring as always. There is not much room for adventure. Though one who travels with medicine supplies experiences some hindrances at nearly every turn, excitement it is not. Fortunately there is music to keep one's attention away from boredom. Approximately one hour more until I collect my stuff and lazy bones and head for the gate to Hong Kong.

Throw away the trash... 100% power.

During the past few weeks and especially the past few days, I have thrown away more trash, physical and mental, than ever before in my life. Now everything has been cleared up, taken care of, gotten rid of, set aside and laid to rest. Now all there is left to do is take what I need and go.

I have my passport, visa, other necessary papers, medicine, money, a deck of cards, two sets of clothes, a journal, more than enough music and my attitude. What I didn't pack, I can do without or buy. At this point it is useless to worry.

Tomorrow is the day that I leave my home and fortress. By the grace of whatever I go, returning just a little more than a hundred days later. I wonder if anything will change. Right now I feel the tension building up, and as I start my journey I am at 100% power and ready to go from one side of the world to the other.

Late tomorrow afternoon, I shall shake off my shackles and go away like never before.