How it usually works is that we live about a twenty minute drive from the train station. It's a bit of a walk. So we rent a parking place there and my husband usually drives there, parks, walks to the station (what? five minutes?), then takes the train to work. His office is like right next to the station.
On this particular morning I went into town with him so I could sit in Starbucks and sip lattes with my friend who was gone for the summer. I usually then take the car home with me and go to pick up my husband from the station when he calls later in the evening. This day, though, I said, "No problem, I'll leave the car and walk home." I even brought the camera to take pictures. This will be fun, I thought.
I begin the trek home.
Here is a big public bath. I haven't been in myself. I think they divide up the men and women these days. But you never know...look at that picture.
On the front door is a sign..."No drunks or tattoo'd people allowed inside!" This comes from the days when only the Japanese mafia got inked. I used to think it was funny that no one with tattoos could enter a public pool, bath, or hotspring. Any establishment where clothes are required can't make such a demand, can they? Lift up that shirt, buddy! Just as I thought! Giitouttahere!
Once I was in a public pool (it had a similar sign on its front door) and there was a guy who was most likely with the yakuza. He had the full body tattoo, all faded blue and sagging. He had the hairdo. He just kinda sat on the side of the pool and watched everyone. I found it amusing that none of the staff were brave enough to tell him he had to leave. Not that he did anything to be told to leave, except sporting his tats.
Twenty minutes into the walk ,and I took a picture of this. A fire hydrant. No red sticky up things here. They are built flush into the ground on sidewalks. A lot of the times they use river water too. There are rivers everywhere.
You can tell that thirty minutes into the walk I am still looking at my feet. A manhole cover. Our town is all about fish. See those fish. And seagulls too.
Forty minutes of walking in the hot sun and I am starting to melt. My extra sensory perception finds this nice coffee shop...giant puddings and giant shaved ice...that's condensed milk on the top on strawberry sauce btw.
Okay, I've been hoovin' it for fifty minutes now and things are starting to go whacky Here is a little tree donned with slippers and men's underwear.
One hour. My legs have begun to become a vibrating jelly at this point (yes, I am a wimp). But at least I'm out of the sun. I begin to hallucinate that I'm Frodo and this camera around my neck is really a ring.
I pass through the trees, trek another twenty minutes, chased briefly by dark smelly men on horses...eventually to reach...home?