Rup rup rup, been sitting on this returning train covered in a bit of Chichibu mud. Not quite the 64k 4day-day hike I was planning as the sequel to last weeks trail 100, but am tired n totally dozy so pretty satisfied none the less.
ONE repetative event keeps opening my curious eyes.. the man opposite is fastidiously cleaning himself with Japan's wet wipes. He carefully opens one, rubs his face up and down and finally, using both his hands and all his concentration twists it into a long ring of a wipe and scrudles it neatly into his ear. Now, we're on the fast train and from his station (Tokorazawa) to Tokyo's Ikebukuro it takes 33 mins. But the whole journey is a pile of wipes neurotically opened, folded, unfolded, twisted, scrudled then left as a growing sculpture on the little window pane.
He Never even looked dirty (not only comparatively) and I wonder what he has been doing that makes him feel quite this dirty.
Taking a trip this Friday to Blighty. Torn, an interlude in my Japanese love affair, but ....