To Kamikochi and Back: The Finale

The last two days were an absolute sprint out of the mountains and down the coast. I ended up pushing it a little too hard and didn't have the energy to write in the evenings, so I'm writing this post factum.

19/05/04 - Day 7

The mountains I came from

Came out after 48 hours off the bike, ready to get some mileage under my belt. On the way to Kamikochi, I had  been steadily rising for 5 days, barring a few dives into the cities tucked away in the valleys. That meant I had a 67km downhill saunter from 1400m to sea level. The weather was hot, not a cloud in the sky, so I loaded up on sun cream and set out on the road back home.

With the momentum of all my junk balanced on the back, I really flew down. Got to my intended campsite by about 1pm without doing anything you would call cycling. I just sat there, clutching at the breaks occasionally, watching the world go by. My wrists were more sore than my legs.

It would have been a shame to waste such lovely weather, and this seemed a good chance to see how far I could go in a day. I decided to get back on my bike, and powered on another 63km to Kurobe. Arrived as night fell, my first ever sunset to sundown. 130km in a day. Took a quick onsen bath, set up camp in the dark with my head-torch, and promptly passed out.

19/05/05 - Day 8

The Beach

Got up the next day with a measly 46km ride to Itoigawa on the coastal road. Now in my mind, Coastal road means flat easy riding next to the sea. The coastal road between Kurobe and Itoigawa was not like that. In fact, it's basically steep cliffs dropping into the sea. Apparently travelers of old used to camp in caves at the bottom of the cliffs, and would be trapped in them for weeks if the weather turned nasty and the waves rose.

The Cliffs

I was forced to climb back up into these terrifying half-tunnels they have here to protect the roads from snow and falling rocks. Made it to Itoigawa for lunch, back on my home turf in the prefecture of Niigata. I don't think I have a strong Japanese accent, but apparently I do. I had been having trouble getting myself understood for large chunks of the trip, especially in Nagano. I don't know if it was psychological or what, but as soon as I crossed the border line suddenly I was fluent again and everyone could understand what I was saying.

First sign of home.

The last bit of the route I've ridden loads of times before, a lovely bike path along an actual coastal road. Again, I was planning on camping in Itoigawa, but again I decided to push on. The promise of sleeping in my own bed with an actual mattress called me home too strong.

I pulled into town exhausted, quite possibly heat stroked, but victorious, 2 days before schedule. I've spent the last few days recovering, as Sunday I could hardly walk. Turns out I can do 220 km in two days, but I definitely shouldn't.

Post Game Reflections

I love doing this, and will be going full steam ahead with the China plan. When you cycle a long distance, you get into a somewhat zen-like state where you aren't focused on your thoughts. They just kinda float about, sorting out your problems in the background. There are no distractions, just me and the bike and the place I'm going. I hope I can keep up this positive mind set when I'm weeks or months into the long haul. 106 days and counting till I hop on the ferry.

I was mainly worried about being alone for over a week, but actually it's quite refreshing. It has however turned me into one of those weird people who start awkward conversations with you if you sit down next to them for too long. Some of the conversations were less awkward. I met a 60 year old guy walking home from Joetsu to Tokyo, a Mountaineer from Osaka who had been hiking up all the highest peaks in the Japanese Alps, and a couple from Korea who had quit teaching to cycle round Japan for 3 months. I am not alone in being crazy.

I also learned a lot about what is actually important on a long distance ride, and have come out with a whole new packing list. Hopefully I wont have to spend the first week in China buying things I need (or replacing stuff I stupidly forgot at home like my ground sheet.)

Best Stuff

3) Rain gear (jacket and trousers) from a workman's store. Just as good as the North Face #swankycampgear equivalent, at 1/10th of the price.

2) A bag of plastic bin liners, on my Mum's advice, that kept my camp gear dry in the rain and my dirty clothes separate from the clean ones.

1) My bike, I love her.

Worst Stuff

3) Ski Jacket. It's huge, and it never got cold enough to really need it. Walked around with it on in Kamikochi, but ended up carrying it when the sun came out.

2) Those damn shoes I started with. Gave me blisters, and almost lost my toes to frostbite. Much happier with my waterproof lavender abominations.

1) Loving a bike is much like being in love with a person. When you love the bike, everything that goes right re-affirms your affection. Everything that goes wrong... well that's not the bike's fault, it's just a difficult part it has. That said, I have a deep, burning hate for the front derailleur, where you have to be going at Mach 5 to get into the lowest gear. Heading to the bike shop right after this to get it adjusted.

Back in one piece.

To Kamikochi and Back: Part 2

19/04/30 - Day 4

What was originally meant to be a rest day turned out to be my highest mileage day yet. Had a bit of a slow start, because apparently 2 beers is enough to give me a bit of a hangover these days. Got up with the mission of getting a ground sheet and making inroads on the 158. Turns out sports stores in Japan are crap, and only sell ground sheets in with a tent. I guess Japanese people never leave them at home. Ended up getting a rather lovely blue tarp I found at the home center next door. It isn't exactly #swankycampgear, but it will do the job.

Set out towards the mountains, which looked ominously cloudy, foreshadowing what was almost the catastrophic end of my trip. I was trundling up happily enough, when I saw one of those digital signs giving out warnings. It said some fairly confusing things in Japanese, but from what I could gather, the upper part of the 158 was closed for some reason. The only other way through is a toll-tunnel for cars only. Lacking 2 wheels and a motor, I was a tad worried I wouldn't get by.

Got to the nearest information center. The guy there is absolutely lovely, but has no idea what I was talking about. Thankfully he called someone who did. The 158 mountain pass is closed, because it is still completely covered in snow. And it won't open again till the end of may. At this point I'm starting to panic. I really don't want to head back the way I came with my tail between my legs, but it's starting to look unavoidable. In a last ditch attempt to score a lift, I suggest maybe a car could give me and the bike a lift or something... My lovely guy jumps back on the phone. After some quick back and forth excitedly informs me that I can throw my bike on a bus at a stop half way up, as long as I put the bike in a bike bag. Overjoyed that I a) wouldn't have to go home early, and b) wouldn't have to climb the highest and worst bit of the 158 guilt free, I headed back into town to buy said bike bag.

I was so overjoyed in fact, that I pushed through some mental barriers and got even further up than attempt 1. Now camping in a deserted park next to a dam, full of beautiful cherry blossoms with no one but me to see them.
38km + 14km down + 19km back up = 71km! Nice going kid.

19/05/01 - Day 5

Started off the day real early, all packed and ready to go by 7. See I had woken up at 5 and couldn't get back to sleep on account of the nerves starting to grow in the pit of my stomach. From the Dam to the bus stop, I'd have to pass through 9 tunnels, two of which were over 1000m long.

Fear is a funny thing. I was anxious about the tunnels all the way up, cresting into full blown dread as I prepared to enter the first one. They are long, narrow, dark, and a good fifth of the traffic here is giant tour buses lugging people up to the nature. The reality though is often far better than what your fear builds it up to be. I could do with remembering that a little more often in everyday life. Going to work on Monday mornings, big parties with loads of people, doing the dishes... its never as bad as you imagined it would be.

Anyway, I'd come this far, and there was no other way round. I waited for a break in the traffic and took the plunge. Adrenaline kicked in big time, so I didn't stop and flew through as fast as I could all the way out the top.*

After the tunnels, everything was peachy. Well, comparatively so. It started chucking it down with rain, but I was so relieved to be alive that I didn't care. Made it to the bus stop, had a much needed bath at an onsen, then stuffed my bike in a bag to get on the bus. Got to Hirayu, where I dropped off my unneeded stuff and bike at the place I'd be staying on the 3rd.

The next two days I'd be camping up in Kamikochi, which meant another bus into the national park. Everyone at the bottom told me not to bother going with all the rain, but I had no where else to be, so I figured I'd risk it. Things were looking pretty grim, but the rain let up at 6pm, so I seized my chance and set up camp. 2 beers later, I was fast asleep in every single piece of clothing I'd brought, as the temperature dropped to about 2°C overnight.**

19/05/02 - Day 6

Woke up in the National park, glad to see the sun peaking through the clouds. I thought about sleeping and lounging about the tent all day, but it would have been a real sin not to walk around a bit after coming all this way. Ended up hiking about 15km up and down the river, but compared to the daily 45km+ up to this point, it felt pretty easy on the legs.

Where winter meets spring

When I planned this trip, a few people told me I was going too early. Turns out they were for the most part right. Spring takes a long time to make it this far up the river, and had only just really arrived. Snow still sat in the shadows, and none of the spring flowers had yet come into bloom.

As I am alone, I spent the larger part of the day people watching. Kamikochi is an interesting place. Near the center, there are a bunch of ridiculously expensive hotels and lodges for the super rich to experience The Nature™. The paths are flat and easy. Everyone on them is out in their prada and gucci. It really is the wild, cornered off and made safe for easy consumption. Capitalism's commodification of nature, exhibit A.

Spotted these two mad lads
hiking up with full packs AND snowboards

Step 20 minutes outside the center, and it's a completely different story. There you see the real pros, dressed to the nines, ready to take on the mountains. Helmets, ice picks, crampons, #swankycampgear galore. Kamikochi for them is just the first checkpoint on long treks up to the nearby peaks.

I felt under dressed for both camps, so resorted to watching the two tribes mingle and eating a bunch of ice cream.***

19/05/03 - Day 7

Took it even easier today, and mozied on out of Kamikochi at about 3. Good bye, you've been good to me. I headed back down to Hirayu to stay in a fancy ryokan, before charging down to the coast for the home stretch. I've had little internet or phone charge for the last two days, so I haven't been replying to messages, or keeping up with the world in general. It's been bliss. Now I'm back, so I'm writing this. Stay tuned for the final chapter. Who knows, I may not even have to go shopping next time.

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*Anyone who is foolish enough to bike anywhere in Japan will inevitably hit tunnels. Unless there is a really wide hard shoulder, my advice is to take an

aggressive line and make cars go round you wide into the other lane. Unless it is a giant tour bus. Then you hug the wall and pray.

** Thank you Lorna for getting me that giant -10°C sleeping bag! When it first came I thought it was a tad unnecessarily bulky, but now I'm in love. Top 5 birthday presents ever.

*** Of course, I am being rather hyperbolic. I'm sure plenty of visitors were just normal people up for the day to get some fresh mountain air. Kamikochi's accessibility gives everyone a chance to see the Japanese Alps in all their glory without having to invest thousands of pounds in camp-wear.

To Kamikochi and Back: Part 1

Google maps is doing my head in, so if anyone has a
better way of mapping and showing you guys my route, let me know!

19/04/27 - Day 1

First day. Almost didn't happen on account of absolutely torrential rain all morning. I kept popping my head out, hoping it would go away, but it just kept coming. Came to about 2pm and I decided I just had to risk it, or I wouldn't get to Lake Nojiri before it was dark. I encased all my camping stuff in plastic bin liners and set out into the maelstrom, ready for the worst. However 30 minutes in the rain slowed down to a drizzle and eventually petered out. Thank the heavens for small mercies.

Most of the way, I snook up a little side street, but about halfway up I had to join the 18, a fairly major road up to the ski fields. Now what you don't notice when driving up in a car, is that it really is "up". You separate the bits of road, not by climb and flat, but by climbing and climbing a lot. Its strange being half way down your gears, chugging up a mountain, thankful for the rest, because you're only slightly having to fight gravity. I knew it would be a challenge with a fully loaded bicycle, but I don't think I appreciated before I got going how annoying it is to be dragging a whole other person's worth of weight up mountains.

As I got to Myoko Kogen, I started to realise that my toes were freezing. I had some pretty durable shoes, but the tops were canvas, so the whole inside was soaked. There is nothing worse than wet socks. Went past a sign that said it was about 5 deg. C. Then it started full on snowing. Thankfully with all the climbing I was doing, my upper body was like a furnace in my rain gear, but my toes...  Oh lordy. Finally made it to Lake Nojiri, which is beautiful, but I had absolutely no energy to look around. About half way up, I'd realised how bad the weather was, so I knabbed a last minute hostel near the lake half way up. They even had an onsen to defrost the remaining toes I had left. Ate a huge pizza, had a beer, now I'm writing this, but exhausted, so I'm just gonna go to bed. So glad I managed to get started today after everything. Hoping for an early morning tomorrow, cause I have to detour a bit and cut through Nagano city to see about getting some shoes a bit more waterproof than today's pair.

19/04/28 - Day 2

Lake Nojiri in the morning

What a day. Had a brilliant breakfast at the guest house before setting off nice and early. From Nojiriko to Nagano city, it was all down hill. Except I couldn't enjoy it so much, cause in this part of the country what goes down must come back up. Nagano city sprawls out in a river basin sandwiched between mountains on either side. The road in is spectacular, as it runs through hundreds of apple orchards. Although sakura is all the rage in Japan, turns out apple blossoms are pretty gorgeous too. I stayed mostly on the outside of the city with the levy road looking down to the river, but nipped in for lunch and an extremely successful trip to Sports DEPO. After yesterday's close call with toelessness, I thought it would be a good idea to get some waterproof shoes. I also wanted to get my bike checked.

For those of you who haven't ridden a bike in years, the front three gears are the main ones, while the back gears let you alter your speed within the limits of those front gears. Yesterday I discovered, predictably while on a fairly steep hill, that I couldn't push down into my lowest front gear for some reason (which is an absolutely terrible place to discover such things.) Got to Sports DEPO, and had a guy have a look at it. Turns out there's absolutely nothing wrong with it. I just need to stop being a wimp and pedal faster. You have to be turning your legs at a certain speed for it to work, particularly hard to do half way up a hill. Secret is to go all the way down to bottom gear as soon as you sniff an incline coming.

I also had to take care of my feet. There was this absolutely beautiful pair of orange wide fitting waterproof "GUARENTEED" shoes. I need wide fitting cause I have fat feet. This has no effect on my other body parts, only me feet are... chode-y. Anyway, they didn't have any in my size, so I had to settle for the same shoe in a strange lavender color my mum would love. It's been sunshine all day, but I'm sure they'll be a worthwhile purchase.

After lunch I faced the mountains. I kinda knew it was coming, but didn't quite imagine how climbing 800m in 11km would feel. Every time I saw the 10% slope sign I died a little more inside. There was definitely a point quite near the start where I didn't think I'd make it. Instead of packing in and heading home I just took a ridiculous amount of breaks, and tried to look like I was having a good time for all the incredulous faces peeping out at me from the passing cars.

Group Photo

3/4ths of the way up, I went round a corner and stumbled upon a golf course and clubhouse, all the way up in the mountains. I'd lost the last bit of my pride around the 10th break, so I decided to go in and fill up my water-bottles. I have never felt so dirty, or received so many dirty looks in my life. Finally made it up to the campsite, only to find I'd forgotten my ground sheet at home. Thankfully its nice and dry, but I'll have to try and find a stand-in during my free day in Matsumoto. I'm knaked. Night.

19/04/29 - Day 3

I wrote way too much yesterday, so gonna keep it short. Come on Richard, no one want's to hear about shoes!

The least cool pair of shoes I've ever bought

As a reward for day 2's climb, I followed a couple of canyon and river roads to Matsumoto, for the most part downhill. Got to the Guesthouse at 1pm, way before check-in, but they let me in early cause I know Japanese and smile a lot. Took a well needed shower, washed my clothes, and had an extremely satisfying 2 hour nap.

I was thinking of taking a rest day tomorrow, but instead I'll rest this afternoon and skip it. The 158 up to Kamikochi looks absolutely savage, so I want to get as far up it as I can to break up the climb.

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Sorry this post isn't as well edited as usual. I'm writing on the go. Still working out how much detail is really necessary when I do a daily log instead of my usual one-a-year post. Bear with me while I get the balance right. Next installment is the make or break of the trip, climbing another 1000+ meters to Kamikochi. Wish me luck.

Feeling Blue: Climbing Mountains

Tom came to visit, we had a great time
getting drunk under the cherry blossoms.

I spent January crawling in and out of the cave in my room, avoiding the future, and generally feeling sorry for myself. By the end of the month though, I was sick of being blue. It was time to face up to the mountain, and answer the ever-present question: "So what are you gonna do next?"* Somewhere between here and there a plan has sprouted. But it's not the kind of plan I can just come out and say without sounding absolutely insane. It needs a bit of a preamble.
 
Picking Ladders

Working out the next step was a mountain-like-problem for me because of two mainly self-imposed reasons. For one, I had grown complacent out here teaching Japanese, leaving me completely unprepared to go back into the job hunt world. I hadn't updated my CV in 6 years, and Linkedin still felt like Facebook for parents. I had no idea what jobs were out there, let alone whether they'd take someone like me.

Secondly, I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. I don't know now either, but back then I really didn't. I couldn't even choose a country. Japan? The UK? And everyone who I spoke to added more choices. "Why don't you come live with me in Australia?" "There's a job here in Canada you'd be perfect for."

Even if I was able to settle on a country, what about the career? It felt like I'd reached that point in life where you have to choose a ladder. A ladder I'd spend the rest of my adult life climbing. Except I'd have to pick the ladder blindfolded, and no one could quite tell me where the ladders went, or whether it was really that great up at the top when you got there. I was so inundated with fairly identical looking ladders, that I almost gave up and crawled back in the cave.

Apparently this is a problem that a lot of people out here teaching in Japan face, so much so that the JET programme set up a two day "After JET conference" to help us make up our minds. First day, a bunch of talks on different industries. Day two, a job fair. I went into it excited, full of optimism that I'd find thousands of exciting prospects for the future, and that one of them would catch my imagination.

It was not like that. The people there weren't even speaking my language. I mean sure, they were speaking English. But rather than talking about job satisfaction and meaning and fulfillment, they spoke about advancement, and how to get ahead of the competition, and the money you could make doing so.

Throughout the course of the two days, it slowly dawned on me that I don't really want to get on many of these ladders. Which is lucky, because if I did want to, turns out I'm not qualified to get on most of them. Rather than helping me find new prospects, the conference slowly killed off various different day dreams I'd had about the future. Translation companies want people with better Japanese. The Olympics wants people with event planning experience. Engineering companies want Science graduates. The only people who did want me were English cram schools. A fair profession, but one without much room to make a career of it. Less a ladder and more of a footstool.

Until I had my one on one "career counseling session". I spoke to this absolutely lovely person who taught at a school in Canada. After listening to hundreds of people talking the foreign language of business and finance, I finally found someone who spoke my language. She spoke about job satisfaction and meaning and fulfillment. A breath of fresh air.

I left the conference, resolved to go back to the UK and become a Primary school teacher. That means getting teacher qualified, either on the job or back at Uni. I got home, ready to make it happen, only to find I had missed the application deadline. By a whole 3 months. And the next application period isn't until October, for programmes starting in September 2020. Another plan, dashed before it even began. Now what am I gonna do?

On the brink of existential crisis, I was saved by some wise words, which I have a feeling my mother would prefer not to take credit for considering the result. She told me to see this time as an opportunity, not an obstacle. An opportunity? My life has no meaning or direction! An opportunity to do what? Well, to do whatever I really want to do. Which is nominally the case for everyone every day, but having a whole year free to fill definitely threw it into relief for me.

I took a look at my life, and thought about what I really wanted to do. Which was a bit awkward, because I had just recently done that and landed on being a Primary school teacher

Climbing Mountains

It's hard to track how an idea came to be. A speech about taking time traveling to work out what you want in life. A friend mentioning a guy who cycled in Asia on his way back home. A random Reese Witherspoon movie about solo hiking from southern California to Oregon, sparking the idea of doing a big solo trip like that. Or the boys here in Japan that somehow talked me into buying a road-bike 4 and a bit years ago. Whatever its origins, the idea took root and started to grow.

I should cycle.
Cycle a long way.
All the way home in fact.

I'd hop on the ferry from Osaka to Shanghai, cycle through China, up into Kazakhstan, down to Azerbaijan and Georgia, through Turkey into Europe, then across the Channel from France. 13,000km,  15ish countries, in a little under a year, poetically taking me from my miniature apartment in Japan, all the way back to the green shores of Albion.

The Long Way Home on the Northern Silk Road

Over the last 3 months I have nurtured this idea lovingly in the hope that it blooms and becomes a fully-fledged plan. Every day, I've been reading cycle touring blogs, pouring over "recommended" lists of every type of camping gear, and plotting out routes through China. I've even been studying Chinese. 我叫Richard. 很高兴认识你!

Now, I will be the first to admit that this plan is a tad ambitious. There are a lot of question marks that really can't be answered now and will just have to be dealt with when I get there. I don't know how it will work out, or if I'll even make it past the first hurdle of the cycle down to Osaka, but I'm rearing to give it a real good go.

I'm starting to feel comfortable with the idea of doing this, as I've been cultivating it up there in the back of my head for months, but there remained the tricky proposition of convincing my Mum and Dad it's a good idea. I was so nervous about what they might think that I kept putting it off, and only ended up telling them because I wanted to write this. I figured I should probably tell them directly that I'm planning on being voluntarily homeless for the next 300 days, rather than hear it second-hand from a blog.

Turns out my parents are brilliant people who will cautiously support me whatever stupid thing I decide to do next. At first impression, Dad seems quite excited, Mum mildly panicked. She's mostly concerned that I'm doing it alone, and that I'm gonna get mugged in Kazakhstan which is completely valid. Thankfully though I will have at least one constant companion with me. I bought a new bike and she's an absolute beauty (which is lucky cause we are going a long way together.)

I'm taking her on a long distance 12 day test run over Golden Week.** This is of course to make sure I don't go insane being alone for that long, and that I actually enjoy cycling up hills carrying half my life on the back of my bike. I was thinking of keeping the blog updated every few days or so about my progress. If this goes well, I'll be buying a ferry ticket, and heading out to China sometime mid August.

 So there it is. That's the plan. I'm gonna cycle home from Japan. Then I'm gonna get qualified and teach small children. Everything is gonna be fine.

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*Getting out, and staying out of caves is not always an easy process. I've found maintaining to do lists, keeping a daily schedule, and trying to instigate good habits (without beating myself up so much when they don't stick) has been working pretty nicely. Exercise and proper sleep is also doing wonders.

**Golden week is this glorious time of year where a few public holidays line up to give us five or six days off work. But this year, through some divine stroke of luck, the Emperor is abdicating. There is an extra day off for that, and a day for the start of the new Reiwa era, and because the Emperor is so nice, the extra day in between is being given to us too, making 10 consecutive days off. My teachers are going nuts. A 54-year old English teacher told me yesterday, this is the longest he's had off work since he started.

Feeling Blue: The Cave

In the week following New Years I found I'd gotten myself into a bit of a pickle. Sat, cocooned in blankets, with the same pajamas I'd been wearing for who knows how long, smelling like I hadn't showered in days.. because I hadn't showered in days. Every item of clothing I owned was out of the cupboards, strewn about on the floor, and dirty. It had been at least 48 hours since I'd seen or spoken to a flesh and blood real life person. The only food left, a jar of peanut-butter. My transformation complete, I was finally ready to live out the rest of the winter as a hibernating bear.

Except niggling at the back of my mind was the thorny knowledge that I wasn't happy, and everything was not okay. The month before Christmas my long-term girlfriend broke up with me - thankfully before I'd bought a present, but unfortunately after we booked flights to see my family over the holidays*.

From the beginning, this relationship had been a bit of an outlier for me. My usual pattern is to fall deeply in lust with someone, so much so that I unconsciously change who I am to fit what I think they'd like, then put them up on a pedestal, ignoring their faults and painting them perfection itself. The one.

At some point, sometimes a mere week or two later, the shine wears off and I remember who I am, and see who they are... and my over-puritanical mind goes, - "Are you really gonna marry her though?"

The answer has almost always been no, and I kinda just ghost out of there with as little mess as possible.

In this case, things were different. It was the first time I said I love you, and she said it back, and I thought it was true for both of us. It was my first time getting jealous, needy, emotionally vulnerable, all that couple-y stuff. It was the first time I started planning a two person future instead of looking for a route out when things got serious. So of course, it is fitting that it ended up being my first time being broken up with.

To double down on self loathing, I'd let myself believe things were going well. I was fully intending on finding work in Japan next year and making things work here. A plan. A plan for the future. Almost as rare for me as having a long-term girlfriend. Losing both at the same time.. well it's safe to say I was not dealing with it well. I fell into the black hole.

I have said to a lot of people over the years, "Sorry, I fell into the black hole." It sometimes happens that for all intensive purposes, I disappear from  the face of the earth for a few days. Usually this means defaulting on plans, not answering their messages, then appearing 3 days later with a guilty grin on my face. But "black hole" isn't quite right. A black hole is a big, powerful, cosmic, ripping force. Where I actually go, there's no movement, no action. It's life on mute.

Maybe a more accurate metaphor then, is that I tuck my knees up and crawl into the cave. For those of you with healthy coping mechanisms, let me explain.

The Cave

It goes like this.
You see a problem in the distance. It would usually be nothing, but every once in a while the brain goes all Alice-in-wonderland syndrome-y about your problems. They stretch and grow to monstrous sizes, you getting smaller and smaller in comparison, until you can't imagine where to make the first cut. There it stands, a humongous thing in the distance, inevitable yet impassable. Well, it's sometimes one humongous problem. Other times, it's a million little ones stacked up on top of each other in an enormous trench-coat.

No one believes they can climb a mountain when they see it from far away. So you crawl into the cave. Bury your head. Sit and wait with your eyes closed, hoping it will pass you on by.

Occasionally, you peek round the mouth of the cave, just a sliver to check, but all you catch is a glimpse of shadows, big things in the distance. More shadows. Each time more numerous and even more impossibly large, so you close your eyes, and find anything to avoid thinking. Thinking about the shadows. Thinking about the big things in the distance, immovable and cold.

To the point where you've got no food left. Well no food that doesn't need cooking. Cooking takes pre-planning and organisation and action. It requires you to get up from where you're sat, eyes closed, waiting for it all to pass. So you rummage through the kitchen for anything remotely edible and end up eating spaghetti with ketchup on top. Peanut-butter with a spoon. A whole pack of omiyage you were fully intending on bringing to school and giving to your teachers.**

Reminders from the outside world keep poking their head through the window, carried on the wings of Hermes.*** On your phone is 10 unread messages.  You can't open then, because then you'd have to act, open your eyes and get up. You'd have to answer, because that's what people expect. More shadows, bigger and bigger. So you keep on distracting yourself with familiar things. Nothing new, nothing moving forwards.

The game you've played for years.
The music you've heard a million times.

Old shows, where you know how it starts and how it ends. As each joke is set up, you laugh, reassured because you've heard the punchline before. Its static. It can't surprise you. No new shadows. No new calls to action. It's three in the morning. Looks like you've ruined tomorrow too. Good. There's no way you can do anything tomorrow, with so little sleep. You'll have to stay in the cave, hidden away. It may sound like a sad place to be, but its not. Sadness is just another one of those things casting shadows in the distance. See, you crawled into the cave to avoid feeling. To escape it. The calm from the storm outside.

Wrapped in Cotton

For a lot of people this wouldn't work. I don't know whether it's duty, or strength on their part, but the outside world calls to them too strongly. They cannot keep their head buried for long, it only reminds them of what has to be done, like covering a burning coal with a cotton scarf. For me though it is perfect. I have some issues with attention anyway, so at times like these I just put something flashy on a screen in front of me... and I'm away. Youtube, to reddit, to game, to video, to movie, and back again. With that much variety, there's no time to be thinking, much less feel.

And then it just stretches on and on until... Its all boring. I binge until I'm sick of it. Until my revulsion with watching one more mindless one hour youtube compilation video outweighs how afraid I am of the humongous thing on the horizon.

Things have to change. No one can remain in the cave forever. The mountains come ever closer, as sure as night follows day. Even we, with our head firmly thrust in the earth can feel it. You cannot stand still. Time pushes you forward, into the mountains, onto the climb. And if your legs falter, and you trip, it passes you by. It has places to be, regardless of whether you are ready for the ascent.

I open eyes and look to the mountains. I am absolutely exhausted from doing absolutely nothing.

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Its been so long since I wrote last, and I'm afraid I've forgotten how to be funny, so sorry if missed some jokes this time.

This post doesn't have a witty roundness to it, because I don't know how it finishes yet. Hopefully I'll add a part II in the coming months, but I'll make no promises as I'm known to break them when it comes to writing. Rest assured though, that I'm feeling much better.

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* Thankfully she didn't come out to Malaysia, but I was in a terrible mood the whole time, and got in a fight with my Mum cause I was pushing everyone away, and ended up crying a bunch. Sorry for almost ruining Christmas. I love you guys.

** In Japan, it is traditional to bring a small, individually wrapped cake or snack called omiyage to school after you take paid leave. It's a nice gesture to the people who have covered for you and picked up your slack while you've been gone. They do take it too far though. A co-worker missed some work to go to their father's funeral, and brought in strawberry tarts to apologise.

*** Even though the messages go unread for days at a time, I am eternally grateful to the people who reach out to me when I disappear. To the angels of mine who go out of their way to include me, no matter how unresponsive and unreachable I may seem - thank you for being brilliant people.