飛島et al

[stormsewer]

A couple months ago I took a little trip out one of the satellite islands of The Rock, one of these places that only has a hundred people living on it, most of them over the age of fifty. Now this place really IS a rock. It's a stop on the way of one of the ferries that goes to the mainland (the one that passed by the little island pair, in fact).



On the way out, I took MORE pictures of the pair. I can't seem to stop photographing these little punks.



Here's some satellites to the satellite. I always think of pirates when I see these islands, somehow.





Here's the ferry leaving me behind.



Here's the ferry coming to get me again on its way back from the mainland (with the Pair in the background again!).



Another satellite of the satellite, which forms a nice little natural bay (keitai shot):



Here's another one of the pair on the way back. They're off to the left and The Rock is on the right.



Pictures of The Rock, taken on the way back that evening:





Yeah, sorry, not much in the way of pictures of the place itself.



What did I do there, you ask? Well, I only had an hour there. I was planning to use it to explore, but I ended up spending the whole time talking to a colorful native, a fisherman (what else could he possibly be?) who's lived on that chunk of stone his whole life. He wouldn’t tell me his name or let me take his picture, but he was probably about fifty, charmingly grizzled and missing all his front teeth. He was also somewhat drunk and at first threatened to kill me, though he ended up giving me Pocari Sweat to drink (that's a nice thing). We ate tomatos together, biting into them as if they were apples.

He talked extensively about Bush. He seemed to think that whoever takes the oil gets the oil and therefore the Iraq war is justified (from a might makes right perspective). He said I could never be president because I would get assassinated and therefore the fact that I disagreed with Bush was of no consequence. I didn't understand what he was saying well enough to argue with him, not that there would have been much point...

His favorite topics, though, were Miyamoto Musashi (who caught flies with his chopsticks), Sasaki Kojiro (who did something called “suwame gaeshi” for 120 kilometers), Billy the Kid (who marked his victims with an X), and Van Gogh. He claimed that Sasaki was actually the more skilled swordsman, but that Miyamoto was smarter.

Upon learning that I didn’t have a girlfriend, he said 当然や。おまえみたいなやつ、女にとってもてじゃなか。("That goes without saying. Women don't think guys who look like you are sexy.") He then added, おや女興味なかばい。いい女おらんばい。おらん！ ("I've no interest in women. There are no good women. None!") He also told me いい人って価値ないや。("There's no worth in being a good person.") One of the last things he told me was おや酒飲むと絶対倒れる。でもこの緑はたおれん。("When I drink, I will absolutely fall over. But the beauty of this island will never fall.")

He was quite a character, though I didn’t understand half of what he said, as he was drunk and spoke in thick dialect. He seemed to really enjoy having a new audience for his ravings, though. For now I think I'll just call him "Pappy." I'll have to go back and see him again sometime.

Comments

[sweetevangeline.livejournal.com]

Those islands are totally pirate-y.

[stormsewer]

ARR!