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Japan, The Hombu and all that Stuff (Part One) Well, OK the tickets were cheap and the Shri Lankan airline was really good but it was ten hours flying time to Colombo with a seven hour stopover! Despite the very fact that a major proportion of the stopover was spent in high spirits in the Hangover Bar in Colombo airport followed by an unknown and on our part an unplanned one and a half hour flight in the wrong direction to Male only to spend another hour at least onboard the aircraft while being deloused by cabin crew with chemical spray in full accordance with World Health regulations whilst waiting for a small army of Japanese tourists to climb cheerily on board. It was then and only then that the pilot just prior to take off teased all the tired ninja that there was still ten hours flying time to Japan, twenty two hours in total! I was still extremely peeved when I fell asleep but woke to fatalistic reason and a Bridget Jones movie. The Shri Lankan people are a very poor yet friendly bunch unless you are a Tamil Tiger of course. For on this our first time in Shri Lanka a suicide bomb had been detonated just outside Colombo in which over 100 soldiers were killed, we had just arrived at the edge of a war zone, nice, just what we wanted. In the shops and in the only bar in the airport the locals are for more keen on foreign currency, any currency rather than their own. Their currency is so worthless that they hand you back small change in the form of sweets or chocolate, Alex did rather well with a lengthy supply of orange flavoured polo mints. Now, there is a man, a small Shri Lankan man in official dress in the only male toilet to be found by those of a desperate nature who earns his daily bread principally though gratuities for handing out the toilet paper, sheet by tiny sheet. That is a first for me, definitely a first. The flying fiasco is only 2nd on the list of unplanned cock ups. Michelle and I both simultaneously forgot our pin number for our most useful only credit card, how stupid do we feel? We need to sort some cash out in Noda that is if we are ever get there before I wither into babbling senility. The major light relief occurred when Alex was pointedly and officially asked if he had anything to declare at the immigration desk in Tokyo airport, to which he replied ‘No’ only to have the Japanese official point at the English belly and ask ‘In there, in there!’ so poor old Alex had to lift his shirt and explain that he was indeed just fat and that it was a common enough condition back in Newbury.
Friday 6th Ashibe is very clean and pleasant but not particularly traditional. The old lady gave a whirlwind tour and showed us to our rooms which were situated up the steepest staircase that I could recall this side of a bunk bed and then without any warning she had disappeared like a small bent ancient Kunoichi through her door on her side of the one and only shower room, this left Michelle Michael, Ryan and Alex waiting by the door to our side of the one and only shower room and it was there that they waited and they waited…and they waited…I immediately went for a lay down in my new room because I know what a shut door means.
Naguchi Sensei was his usual bundle of fun smiles and devastation with untold numbers of techniques and variations at his disposal to befuddle the brains and bodies of any Ninja, let alone the weary British variety. My red eyes could not help but notice that the class was very busy, it gets busier each year which is a total mystery because I always leave Japan believing that the Honbu just cannot get any busier but… Met a nice chap from Exeter (since lost all details, sorry for that) who runs his own class under the renowned Phil Lagare. Norman Smithers and my West Country boys did not show as I believe they went to the class of Samaya Sensei. I expect that I will meet up with them all this evening at the Hatsumi Soke class. Rain, rain go away. It was still tipping it down outside Ashibe and I decided to wake Michelle as hunger was now master so it was off to Saizeria for a superb lunch. It was a wet walk back past the ‘Noda specials’ sword shop, well the old gent actually seems to specialise in selling everything from umbrellas to watches to swords. Alex treated himself to a Noda Special and then we all stacked up on goodies for a midnight feast. BIG SPIDER! Huge spider above the Hombu Dojo doorway, massive web big spider it looked like something to avoid and everyone did. We all got drenched to the skin walking the fifteen minutes to the Honbu Dojo. By the time we had got inside the water was literally dripping of us causing minor puddles on the matted floor. Hatsumi Soke was on very fine form despite of the number of damp and wet students pressed inside the thin wooded walls. I cannot remember what I learned that evening apart from being a little more picky as to who I stand behind. Met up with the Truro and Plymouth Massive also met Richard (Spooky from MAP) but I did not recognise him until I was leaving the dojo and so I felt mighty embarrassed. Good buddy Ilja Hoffmann from Nottingham was also there, it was his first session of his latest trip. Only two for the Godan test and Hatsumi Soke did not take any of the cuts but instructed the various non Japanese top ranked to do so. I spoke to one of the guys who passed and he expressed disappointment that neither Hatsumi Soke or any of the Japanese Shihan had performed the test, I suppose change is inevitable but I understood how he felt. It was a totally soggy exuberant walk back to Ashibe after the lesson of Hatsumi Soke for our midnight feast including vending machine beer! Apart from Michelle and I none of the other captives had ever been to Japan before and so were suitably excited after all they had seen topped off with a lesson from the Grandmaster. At 3am we called a halt and went to bed.
Just made it on time to the Honbu Dojo for the class of Senou Sensei, Michael did not make it out of bed, poor lanky lad was jet lagged out. I like the quiet understated violence of Senou Sensei he is a real bruiser for those who take the time to look. At last a break in the weather and it is now very warm and sunny if a little windy still. It was a very busy and lively class and I met up with Simon Gaunt now living in New Zealand, I had not seen him for a couple of years at least. Ryan stayed on for the Oguri Sensei class Michelle and I headed off to Ashibe to change and then on to the library with Michael, Alex was not at all well and was still in bed. After our allotted time on the internet we left the library and all met up for eats at Saizeria, then up to the Very for pitchers of cheep Japanese beer and in bed in Ashibe for 8.30, we were all cream crackered apart from Michael who had had more sleep than the rest of us he went exploring the delights of Noda. I told him he would be back within half an hour but he managed to last a whole hour, I was mightily impressed that he was so easily entertained. Sunday 8th I have been awake since 1.30am and Michelle was sleeping in fits and starts. Had my shower at 5.30am and I wanted to treat my face to a good shave but I had left my razor back home. At precisely 6am what sounded like continuous cannon fire greeted the new day, for a short shocking moment I thought the Koreans had finally had enough and invaded! But it turned out to be the start of a Japanese equivalent of a bank holiday weekend and so what if it started on a Sunday, it is Japan after all. Nagato Sensei was not his usual self as he seemed rather quiet but he was very pleased with the book of photos of the Forest of Dean than we gave to him and he asked lots of questions about where Michelle and I lived, he also chatted much about my time as a bodyguard. There was a slightly different approach to the running of the Nagato Sensei class in which many with dubious standards of training were illuminated more than usual. The Hatsumi Soke class was extremely crowded but Michelle and I had fun with the funny feet techniques that was a real hoot! It was fascinating stuff and Hatsumi Soke never looses the ability to surprise with his incredible taijutsu and the use of space and timing. Michelle and I marched Michael and Ryan off to Jusco as poor Alex was downed by man flu. Met up with Ilja for a slow trawl around the hypermarket and Michelle bought another pair of shoes to add to her collection back home. Also we got a bumper pack of Japanese lemsips for Alex, the flu boy. 6.30pm everyone rejuvenated and off to the Very where we all got a little drunk apart from Michael who got very drunk indeed after about half a dozen of the viciously diminutive and yet extremely elegant blue bottled sake. We talked of forming our very own political party The Nights of Ninja and Michelle would be PR and chief Spin Doctor, Michael would head communications, Alex MI5 and Ryan MI6 while I of course would be President! Michael knocked back the Sake at such an alarming rate that we all too bets as to whether he could make the walk to Saizeria unaided, in the end even after our level best we could not dissuade him from heading straight (perhaps more of a prolonged zigzag) back to Ashibe, all bets were off.
Monday 9th
With the aid of my secret short cut we got to the picturesque Shinto Shrine and the lads did the tourist type stuff with cameras and all and after another healthy walk we found ourselves back at Saizeria for beers and more beers. Back at Ashibe Michelle and I were joined by Michael drinking his now favourite beverage Calpis in our room for an enlightening discussion about history (social and military) and comedy in all its forms. Looking back it was more fun that it sounds right now but you will have to trust me on that one.
Tuesday 10th Another hot and sunny day, it took about two hours to get to Suidabashi and to the two budo shops. Ryan and Michael had some serious spending to do as did Alex who concentrated more on the DVD’s, while Michelle and I were saintly as we spent no money at all as having no pin number made it easier than we might have thought. After refreshments in the New York Coffee Bar and after Ryan had succumbed to the high pressure selling techniques of an antiquated Japanese lady who specialised in flogging embroidered black belts we parted in high spirits. Alex and Ryan bumbled off to Ayase and the Budokan for the Hatsumi class, Michael decided that the electrical delights of Akihabara were too tempting to miss while Michelle and me headed back to our security blankets in Noda with the express promise not to bother with Suidabashi again, we must have gone there at least ten times over the years and enough is enough. We found a cheaper way back to Noda but not much quicker but have now sadly forgotten what it was. I tried my very best Japanese in the Very by ordering a chicken curry but it only seemed to alarm the young waitress who slowly backed away into the kitchen where she presumably sent the big burly chef to check out the gaijin but the chef and I are great mates who have ever only communicated via ham-fisted sign language, it turned out that they did not do chicken curry after all so we all settled for an up marked KFC!
Wednesday 11th Sharaishi Sensei was his usual softly spoken, informative and fun self and now evidently teaches regularly at the Honbu Dojo. I learned a great deal today off a great Master. He instructed everyone to train with a smile and gave out tips on breathing and told us never to train too hard because you will always miss the subtleties. I finished off my training for the day with a fine Nagato Sensei class, gone are the days when I was one of his regular uke when I was in Japan maybe we have both got passed that or maybe it is the fact that there are no constants apart from change and adaptation. At Ashibe we got to wrestle with the washing machine in the garden eventually we won on points and afterwards it worked like a dream but I must confess that I have had better dreams. Ryan marched off to the Naguchi Sensei class while Michelle and I were still captured by the workings of an underpowered East Asian washing machine. Michael who had been out all day returned later to tell of his latest Japanese discovery, he had stumbled on a proper English style pub in Kashiwa were he ate fish and chips off printed copies of English newspapers and there was British beer aplenty but he was the only English person in the pub on either side of the counter. Worth a look next time me thinks. I had hoped to wave a teary farewell to the West Country Ninja but they had to fly and my fat old face was not a sufficient enough distraction for them. Met Mark Lithgoe in Saizeria but not too much chance to speak as he was fully with company, instead the whole Ashibe tribe went the fifty yards to the Ichidai Bar for the best in yakitori and massive beer infusion. We staggered away sometime after midnight. |
Saturday 7th
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