oh ninjas, how you disappointed me.

Yay for another long weekend! This time, it we were celebrating Labour day, which meant another opportunity to leave our lovely quiet prefecture (read: boring) and go elsewhere. Though, as tradition would dictate, it meant that we only decided the previous week that we wanted to go somewhere new, by which time, everyone else in Japan - being the organised, overzealous type of country - had already decided months in advance they were going to take advantage of the weekend too, and book out all the accomodation for the places we wanted to go. But, rather than drowning my sorrows in numerous cups of vanilla lattes and frappucinos like I usually do, I thought it was a good idea to try driving to a new prefecture. So, we ended up deciding on going to Shiga, a prefecture just next door to Gifu.

But what to do in Shiga? Well, visiting Japan's largest lake seemed so cliché and well, not my cup of tea. I've found out I'm not really one for nature, surprisingly (as I write this on my blog while listening to my iPod). And, all that the city of Nagahama seemed to have on offer, other than the usual temples and castles, was just a really, really old train station. Meh. So, trying to forge new ground, we ended up settling on Koka, the city known for its ninja clan in its heyday. Granted, I wasn't expecting it to be littered with ninjas, (after all, they would be all stealthy anyways if they were good ninjas) but we were hoping to visit Ninja Village, which, as you'd expect, was meant to be a village full of ninja-related crap.

After our two hour drive to Koga, turns out, we arrived a little too late. Like, 10-15 years too late. My super high expectations of the ninja village were a little bit more than shattered when we got there and found that it wasn't really that well maintained. Like, dead crickets and other insects littering the cases of old ninja weapons in the museum. And a tea house that looked like it had collapsed, and was left as it was.  The only redeeming part of the museum turned out to be the ninja star throwing range. It's sad to say when I thought about ninja stars, I immediately thought of Three Ninjas Kick Back, where one of the three was learning to throw ninja stars accurately, was given the wise advice by his uncle to stare at the target until it became the size of a watermelon, and aim at it. So, I did try that technique, though turns out, I can't tell the difference between that technique and squinting, so I wasn't that good.

The one redeeming thing from our trip to Shiga? Marimokkori! Yep, an overpriced ¥420 phone strap made my weekend. I guess that may be a sign of a not-so-successful trip. But nonetheless, as we stopped at a rest stop on the highway between Kyoto and Tokyo, the huge rest stop was stocked with souvenirs from everywhere in between, for the Japanese people who had forgotten to get any presents on the way back from holidaying. Which meant that I was able to buy some Marimokkori from places I had been to before I started my collection! wooo!!

 

Shachihoko (Lion carp), Nagoya

  

Pagoda, Nara

  

 Tanuki (Racoon Dog), Shiga

not meant to be...

Oh unreliable Rusty, I hardly knew ye.

It seems like I've been fighting an uphill battle against the Powers That Be for the last year or so in Japan. As much as I try to go against their plans for me, they seem to try and give me a sign that I'm doing what they don't think I should be doing. The latest sign came today, as I was leaving my house and getting ready for my bike ride to school.

I haven't ridden my bike to school in ages, partially because I've now got a car, and also partially because I'm lazy. But, after the sugarfest and food-gorging-fest known as a weekend in, I decided to try and ride my bike and do something remotely healthy.

Alas, it was not meant to be. Decked out in my coolest biking clothes ever (read: matching tracksuit, since a whole matching tracksuit isn't as lame as it may be back home) and grabbing a bag for my work clothes from my car, I was walking to the apartment's bike parking area, looking for my "Yes We Can!"-branded bike, with its bright blue bike rope wrapped around the back bike rack.

Huh. That's weird. I don't see the blue bike rope thingy. Maybe someone stole my bike rope thing. It's not that uncommon really, since it wasn't like it was locked to the bike. It's already been stolen a few times, but it didn't bother me too much, since it was just from the hundred yen store. Wait a minute. I don't feel as inspired looking through these bikes,  with the one bike sticking out with a name that also doubles as a good life motto...

Yes, my bike was gone. Despite being locked, it seems as if someone with their professional thievery skills has broken my inpenetrable bike lock. And, instead of getting mad or really annoyed, I just shrugged and went back inside my place to get changed into my less cooler, less coordinated work clothes.

I think I'm not as annoyed as I should be because I'm kinda second-doubting myself and my ability to pick out my bike from a lineup of 5 bikes. Plus, I'm also the person who freaked out thinking my car was stolen when my friend said my car wasn't parked outside my house (despite the fact I drove to my other friend's house the previous day and was staying at their place at the time), and I also tried to withdraw 300 bucks from an ATM, only to take my ATM card and my receipt and forget to take out the money sticking out of the machine.

But partially, I'm not annoyed because I know the powers that be have not been wanting me to ride my bike for a long, long time. 

Case in Point: Bike Number 1: aka Rusty red bike. It was free, a hand me down from the person who worked as the English teacher before me at school. Not the best bike, but did manage to get me from A to B. Even though it did get around two flat tires in less than 6 months. In both cases, the tire got punctured on the way to school, which meant I still had to ride my bike to get to school in time.  I also decked it out with a fancy gel-like seat cushion, which was subsequently stolen during a visit to my elementary school, and had multiple bike ropes taken from it as well. The final straw for Rusty was the day a spoke was sticking out as I was riding it. Not wanting to lose momentum, I tried to stick the spoke back in with my foot as I was riding.

After regaining consciousness, and cautiously trying to ride my now-broken bike home and simultaneously alleviating pressure from my foot, I found that it'd cost around 50 bucks to fix my free bike, and take up to a few weeks or so, which, wouldn't have worked with my now purple foot. So, I forked out an extra 25 bucks and got myself a new, shiny one, aka Yes We Can!

While Yes We Can! was shiny and new, it was still plagued with flat tires, flimsy basket, and a missing cap for where you inflate the tire. It had begun to rust after just a few months, leading me to believe that Rusty may have been a Yes We Can! in a previous life.  It's hard for me to compare though, since soon after Yes We Can! was purchased, Rusty mysteriously disappeared from the communal bike area as well.

So, after two bikes, 5-6 flat tires, a broken spokes, a purple foot, 3 stolen bike ropes and a stolen fancy seat cushion, I think the Powers that Be have won.

I just hope they don't have anything against me driving...