DAY 32: Strolling Into the Country

Walking. It is completely different from cycling. When I was on my bike I was able to get to places fast, make mistakes, had time to rethink my plans and more. But walking is a whole other story. First and foremost, this is the means of transportation that immerses you into the culture the most. It also allows you to not worry about your belongings being stolen either. Your backpack is always on you. Finally, it does not feel like a race. It is quite relaxing actually.

The Level of Detail
As I walk out of Nagoya's busy streets and into a small town, I realize the beauties of walking the rest of the way. Going 5kms per hour gives you time to appreciate every little thing you might have otherwise missed.

The quiet streets are empty and an air of peace surrounds me. There is not a cloud in the sky. Two workers talk to each other next to a truck full of goods. They seems to have some kind of issue to sort out with the shipment. Further down, an old man listens to a game on his old fashioned radio, sitting alone in his backyard. Craftsmen bang and shape the various products in their small shops, breaking the relaxing silence from time to time. I notice a small rivulet of water coming out of a wooden case; an old torn down warehouse is full of wild bushes sitting next to all the wooden works of production that were left behind. The sun hits the inside of the warehouse beautifully, lighting up the sad old place and giving it an air of magic and mistique. These are just some examples of what I mean by detail. It is like cycling...but in slow motion, and in HD.

Troubles Ahead
The day goes fine until the last two hours. Yes, my collar bone is still broken, so it hurts...but thankfully I have a massive stash of painkillers in my bag jto get me all the way down to the end. What really hurts all day is my other shoulder actually. Imagine carrying a heavy backpack all on one shoulder. Now imagine doing that all day long through all sorts of terrain. Quite tiring...plus the meds make me drousy and sort of spacey, so I take many breaks just to get through the day. But all this is not even trouble as far as I am concerned. Trouble starts when one of the few working body parts you have left starts to hurt. My left foot. I find myself on a long bridge that spans over 2 rivers, when my foot's arch begins to throb in pain. Fantastic, I think to myself. I try to go forward a bit but the pain is unbearable....and I am on painkillers! What the hell! When will my luck change.....

I continue on the bridge limping from the bad foot, swinging my chest from the bad shoulder....and that's when I stop and say to myself "when in the world did I become the hunchback of Notredame......... and why can't I just go on vacation like everybody else..." and the list continues on and on, gradually becoming more and more inappropriate and angry. I try to stop and take a break but it is not allowed on the bridge. Workers are fixing it and they want me to keep going. I limp my way to the end but not before turning around and telling the bridge to go f itself. I have cursed at numerous inanimate objects and landscapes while here on my adventure. Mountains, tunnels, rain, wind...cursed them all. They all deserved it.

May I Have Seconds Please?
Limping for miles is not fun, but a double dose of ass-kicking from Lady Luck comes my way once I realize my destination is a hotel-less town. Wonderful. You see...on bike I would have just said "next town"...or at most I would have wipped out the tent and just parked myself right there. On foot with no tent? No such options. So I keep going. I eventually reach Kuwana. I get a hotel that is over my budget. No other options...other than laying my hurting back onto the hard asphalt and keeping the bums company. I am angry. My patience...yes, one of the few positive character traits I have an endless supply of....runs out. This is because I managed to stop in the only ATM-less city in Japan. Now imagine me with my chestrap on, limping, shifting my shoulders back and forth while also mumbling curses with an angry look on my face. This is what the locals saw today.

Broke, hurting and shamed, here I am in my overly expensive but quite crappy hotel room. I want to emphasize crappy as this is the cherry on the cake. I won't even talk about the super expensive restaurant I managed to pick by accident soon after, nor the abnogcious flamboyantly gay waiter who hit on me throughout the whole meal and followed me out of the restaurant hoping to get the digits or something. I haven't slept in three days! I am going back to my hotel room to sleep. You're not on the guest list! I should have said all this, but that would have been rude...so instead I just hopped away like a angry forest troll back to the hotel.

In all seriousness, I feel like the tiny ant who is being tortured by a giant but cruel child. The pressure pushes down, and I don't know how much longer I can hold myself up.

PS: Tomorrow's menu: Rain... so no hitchhiking. Foot pain...so no walking. Lack of ATMs...so no staying here either. Now...call me crazy, but did my life just become impossible?

...at least I have a good view from my window. Ha! One good thing! Take that Lady Luck...ya wench. .....................................well, it's not that good really. It's just a street.

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