祭り Festival

Well, after my brief and uncommented entry concerning my yukata, I made a long cycle from Namba to Kyobashi station (if anyone other than Shun is understanding these places I'll be astronomically impressed. To be honest, they're only for him) to meet Yayoi and her friends today. The intention was karaoke, but the presence of millions of matsuri festival goers convinced us to take a turn towards the river and observe the spectacle.

Being asked what kind of festivals we have in London, aside from Notting Hill, which I have never frequented, I was drawn ablank. The only comparative display of bright and colourful illuminations were the Oxford Street Christmas lights, which hardly held the same allure. The four of us walked through the open air food market, acquiring various festival delicacies, all of which were bought and then offered to me, with all suggestions of recompense being vehemently denied. I once again partook in takoyaki, to which the aforementioned Shun claims resemblance, and an odd oval shaped piece of biscuit bread, with a topping of apparent puffed rice and a heart shaped fried egg, laden with criss crossing mayonnaise. Yayoi bought this, and we shared it. As well as these cultural delights, a frankfurter on as stick was also shared among us.

The true star of the night was the amazing display of pyrotechnics. On the way, the fireworks were hidden from view, so we just heard their crackle, followed by tremendous thuds of sound, explosions loud enough to shake us. After this bout had subsided, a car alarm was wailing, which made the whole sequence seem like a cliche. It was amusement that transcended language barriers. It is impossible to describe the fireworks themselves, so I will only let you know of my reaction, that of amazement and at times, almost hypnosis at the visuals before me.

The evening could not last long, as most people right now are still working, but I'm seeing at least Yayoi again tomorrow for her English lesson, and hopefully our prearranged karaoke can be undertaken on Wednesday.

I also spent a few hours waiting in the front doorway as I had forgotten my key, and I had been warned that if I woke anyone while they slept, I would die. I chose life.

But I had such a feeling of safety, as I always do and have done everyday in this country, that I'm really pitying those in London on the tubes and buses. Terror worked. Shame. I hope it doesn't last.

This holiday is reaching the half way point. I am very seriously enjoying it here, and hope it does not go by quicker. Emma will probably speed things up just because she's fun. Karaoke will probably also fly by, because you pay by the hour. Anyway, I maintain elevated hopes, and hold the same desire for my friends at home to enjoy themselves and not be scared, wherever they are located.