A Year in Japan
A Year in JapanFebruary 2003
Since completing the Tsukuba marathon in November, I had only been out on 4 jogs. On February 2nd, I was up early on a freezing morning to scrape the ice off the car before driving to Moriya half an hour away. Over 3000 people turned up to run the Half Marathon. I set off at the back at an average pace with US Kip who soon took off to "run me into the ground". Despite the freezing air, it was a nice flat course with the occasional slope. I ran consistently. 5km (30 mins), 10Km (60 mins). But a hard road took it`s toll on the calf muscles. The return route was back along the same road, and Kip came past a long way in front of me. I had teamed up with an American at 5km but he slowed dramatically as we passed 15km in 1 hour 34. I felt ok and pushed on past a lot of entrants walking ahead of me. There was also a lot of locals out on the streets who yelled support at me. (probably `Get a move on you fat bastard` in Japanese). I finished 21km in 2 hours 9 minutes and was very pleased considering my lack of training. Must be all those bottles of red wine! Kip told me later that his legs died on the hard road and at 18km he was reduced to walking. He still finished in a respectacle 1 hour 50, but nowhere near the time he`d drunkenly bragged about over the weeks before!
The following morning was the `Setsuban Festival`. Feb 3rd is the traditional `beginning of Spring` festival in Japan, when a kind of `Jack and the Beanstalk` ceremony is performed, with beans thrown out of the door. No mythological giants in the sky await a magical beanstalk to reach them, however, as this tradition is meant to keep the `giants` (demons) from entering into one`s home and bringing bad luck. "Oni wa soto, fuku wa uchi" ("Demons (stay) outside, happiness (come) inside") is the phrase chanted as the `setsuba` (literally `dividing of the seasons`) beans are tossed out the door. Mt Tsukuba apparently had a small festival but it was already over by the time I got there.
I made a second visit to Tokyo Bay Area, walking over Rainbow Bridge on the southern side with the frame of the Fuji TV Building dominating the horizon. At Decks Shopping Mall, I visited Daiba Little Hong Kong on the 6/7th floors of Island Mall. This `Japanese version` was a few neon lights with Chinese characters flashing in front of dull looking grey Chinese concrete and the waft of Chinese incense all around. There were lots of Chinese restaurants packed with Japanese lunch goers. At one restaurant, you sat up at a counter while the dishes came past on a little conveyor belt and you picked what you wanted until you were full. There was a long line of people waiting to enter this place. At another, you bought a meal ticket from a machine and handed it over at the counter. Not so much Hong Kong as a large converted loft full of Chinese tat. On the ground floor was `Gardener`s World`; this was another restaurant designed to a theme. There were standard British garden seats and tables to eat at and you ordered at a garden shed with corregated iron walls. Spades and forks hung off the walls. It looked rather surrealistic in a modern shopping mall.
Photo of Daiba Little Hong Kong
Next door was Aqua City, another large multifloor shopping mall. The bottom two levels were dedicated to the 13 movie theatres (the largest Cineplex in Tokyo). These were positioned around an impressively tall atrium with a huge false glittery Xmas tree as the centrepiece. `Sony Style` was a fabulous state of the art demo showroom to show the Japanese how they should equip their homes with vast TV screens. I watched the `Spiderman` movie on one which must have been 4ft long while accessing the internet on one of the many free laptops.
The Beatles `Yellow Submarine` exhibit had been closed (due to a lack of drugs in Japan?). I was gutted. I`d read up about it. “This attraction exists only in Japan and Berlin, Germany up to now, and is a conversation type simulation ride that takes you on an enjoyable tour of the Beatles' yellow submarine adventure. Once upon a time, there was a paradise called Pepper Land full of happiness and music in Beatles' hometown, Liverpool, but Blue meanies, leading flying groups and troops, declared war to destroy it, and the Beatles took up arms to defend their paradise against the enemy. Their weapons were humour, songs, Yellow Submarine, and nothing more, but they had to fight all across 4 beautiful but dangerous seas to beat down the evil Blue Kingdom. Before you ride in 'The Yellow Submarine', Captain Fred will give you detailed instructions as to how and what to do to save the paradise together with the Beatles. You can directly talk with Captain Fred on the screen and he will answer all the questions you raise, and finally Captain Fred will tell you the key words to save Pepper Land. OK OK! I know this is corny and a product of typical crazy Japanese imagination, but hey, its fun! After you finish the ride, just outside the exit, there is Japan's first 'The Yellow Submarine' official shop in which different articles, wares, clothes, etc. are sold."
On the 4th floor, I found the Tezuka Osamu World Art Square. Osamu Tezuka (1928-1989) was (the blurb read) "a world famous Japanese cartoonist and animator with remarkable imagination and sharp wit. Almost all of his works were around the main theme of true essence and sacredness of life and the images of the characters in his works have been deeply etched into people's mind. It is a theme shop characterised by silkscreen vivid reproductions and commercialised items of Tezuka's works and the characters in his works. Tezuka's main works are on sale there and the animations are replayed by special video TV displaying system with fantastic acoustics. Tezuka's works includes Astro Boy, Mighty Atom, Jungle Emperor Leo, Black Jack, etc". Disneyworld had a huge shop where Winnie the Poohs were on sale. The top floor contained `The World of Coca Cola` which contained lots of old Coke antiques as well as selling anything you could possibly imagine with the logo on it. There were great views from the outside balcony looking down over the `Statue of Liberty` with the Rainbow Bridge as a backdrop.
After revisiting the Fuji TV Building for more photographic possibilities, I strolled to the Shiokaze Koen (Sea Breeze Park), the largest park on the island, which had a stylish brick terrace with strange white modern sculptures. Down to the Maritime Museum, I checked the outside exhibits including a vast flying boat and lighthouse. Revisited the Museum of Emerging Science (MESCI). Nearby, the brand new expensive onsen resort (`The Odeo Spa Story`) had not yet opened. Revisiting Palette Town, I took in Venus Fort again and Toyota Car Showroom.
Photo of Venus Fort Shopping Mall
Another Photo of Venus Fort Shopping Mall
I also explored Sun Walk; this was another vast shopping mall within Palette City. `Sports Authority` had shops dedicated to the English Soccer Team, Manchester United FC and David Beckham. which sold their relevant gear and posters etc. A soccer shirt cost £60. `Pet World` had everything you`d ever need to buy your pet and a lot you wouldn`t, like Dog nappies (daipers in the US). I`m not kidding. I took a photo of a toy dog wearing one just to prove it. It was packed with Japanese all looking at the dogs etc on sale stuck inside small plastic containers. A Chihuahua puppy was on sale for over £1200. They are currently the most fashionable dog in Japan. 40,000 of them were sold last year alone. Not so much a dog as a shaven rat with legs. Small dogs for small Japanese apartments. Everyone should have one. Not! Ferrets were on sale for £200. Nice Pets!
Revisiting the Panasonic Centre, I checked out the `Lifestyles` section on the 2nd floor with gadgets like the automatic `Clothes Dresser`. You stored your clothes in a self contained wardrobe that pumped odour remover and kept your clothes free from insect and moisture attack. You could type in what the weather was like and it would produce the relevant clothing and also give you `fashion advice`. The ultimate Japanese accessory; a computer that gives you fashion advice so that you don`t have to use your brain. Give me a break. It was not pointed out on the blurb that you were the person stocking the clothes dresser to start with and obviously your fashion tastes might not blend with the computer program. If it couldn`t find anything fashionable would the computer start smoking and beeping with `Shut down imminent`. Maybe it had a Fashion Police Utility; that would boom through a loudspeaker "Fashion Police. You cannot wear those shoes with that skirt".
There was also a `Robotic Cleaner`, a small plastic chunk of vacuum cleaner with onboard cameras so that it didn`t crash into anything in the house while cleaning (table legs, the dog etc). If I had one of those, it would think it was in a minefield as it tried to negotiate itself around the empty beer cans and wine bottles scattered over the floor. You could dial it up outside the house using your mobile phone. `Useful as a security device` the blurb said. Thanks a lot. I have enough time at work to call it up and eventually, one day, get to watch my house getting plundered on live cameras and someone stealing my state of the art vacuum cleaner.
Then there was the `Ergonomic Bed`, a computerised mattress that propped itself up during the day and as you fell asleep, the mattress would be programmed to mould into the ideal shape for your sleeping habits. I noticed that there was nothing about snoring habits. If I had one of these, the mattress would be smothering my face if anyone else was staying over. Above the beds was a canvas screen so you could sleep with your kids and play them an animated children`s story so you could watch it together in bed. I called it the `Gary Glitter Home Entertainment Centre`. "Brings the family together" and "Improves family bonding" the blurb said. Not in my brother`s house. He`d be playing something like `The Return of the Living Dead`, scaring the shit out of his kids. "Daddy, daddy, you promised to show us the story of the `Three Little Pigs`". "Not today kids. Now watch out for this bit when the corpse`s face melts like a candle" "Arrrrggggghhh". I`m an ordinary guy, but I found it quite scary that people would feel the need to let all this technology take over their lives. Personally, I find that my sofa seems to bond with my body position when I pass out in front of a video.
Last stop. The Rainbow Sewer Museum. Ok, not everyone`s idea of a good time, but I`d never visited a sewer museum before. It was on the 5th floor of another brand new space age designed building. I was welcomed by an animated `Kame Jii`, the `Turtle of the Grand Pa` (or should that be Poo). He was holding what looked like a huge lump of shit on the end of a stick. The blurb said "He has inhabited Tokyo Bay from ancient times and has been watching the growth of Tokyo for a long time. So he knows everything about `sewerage in Tokyo`". Cut to the chase, he knows Shit!
There were a couple of problems. I arrived only 20 minutes before closing and many of the displays had been turned off. Everything was also in Japanese, though they gave me an English leaflet. Displays included `Recycling Resources`, which had various materials like bricks (`Such goods are made from sewage sludge! What a surprise!"). I assume the expression `To shit a brick` comes from this recycling process. The `Historical Transition ` section had a chronological table of Tokyo`s sewerage history and old manhole covers built into the floor. `Fun Devices` including pedalling an exercise bike to power a scaled down treatment plant (turned off). There was a large map of Tokyo and you fired a laser beam at it "to find the wastewater flow and treatment plant of your targeted area". When I fired, half of Tokyo lit up which suggests that it is one big sewage plant. A teddy bear doll showed me the layout of underground drainage and the sewage flow. Which was nice of it. I can`t say that you should rush to see this place, but if you`re passing the neighbourhood, you should plop in. I felt it only apt to sign the Visitors Book with the comment "If it looks like shit, and it smells like shit... then it`s shit!". I also added "Shit happens!" before I was escorted off the premises.
Tuesday February 11th was a national holiday and it was a cold wet day in which to attempt my 21st marathon. The location was Katsura, near Mito, the prefecture capital, which lay about 2 hours away. 7000 runners had entered the marathon (4 westerners) and another 4000 for the 10km race. The place was heaving with people jogging around and looking, er, a lot more prepared than me. The start took place on the main street. I joined what I thought was the back of the field, only to discover that I was on a side road and joined the crowd half way up. It was still drizzling and the roads were soaked. The course was more undulating than the Tsukuba marathon with long gradual slopes every few kilometres. As we ran out of town with thousands of cheering spectators, I attempted to find a pacemaker. Passing 5km at 31 minutes, I realised I was running much too quickly and then spotted a runner dressed as Winnie The Pooh (wearing a pooh mask and yellow/red running gear). he seemed to be running at a comfortable pace so I latched onto him for the next 20km. I ran on the softer pavements where ever possible, keeping off the hard roads which really sapped the legs. I was comforted to see some runners walking by 10km. I came through 10km at 64 minutes wondering what I`d have left for the second half of the race but hung onto Pooh San (as he is called in Japan; he got constant yells from delighted mothers and kids). During the Tsukuba Marathon, they had started dishing out bananas and chocolate at 27km, but today it started at 17km and was a godsend in the cold weather. I stuffed myself full of bananas, apple slices, Ritz crackers and filled my pockets with chocolate. I came through halfway (21km) in 2 hours 23 mins (7 mins faster than at Tsukuba Marathon), but my legs were already tired. The previous half marathon 10 days before, was taking its toll.
I decided to stick with Pooh San for as long as possible, who didn`t seem to be suffering (it might have been the fact he was about 50lbs lighter than me). At 27km, I slowed and away he jogged. In the previous marathon, I had been reduced to jogging/short walks from 27km but today decided to try and keep going without stopping. I would last another 10km apart from a pee, removing a stone from my shoe and getting my legs sprayed down with `deep heat` (another excellent idea I had not seen before). The back of my right ankle was worn raw by my running shoe and blood tickled into it (ouch!). 30km passed in about 4 hours. The course seemed full of runners walking or stretching their limbs. I had never seen so many people grinding to a halt in a race. There was so much food on offer, even I gave up filling my fat face at every opportunity. At 30km, I passed someone dressed in a full monkey suit (including tail) who was walking. Yesss! I thought as I ambled past him. I was rather gutted when he trotted past me at 35km with renewed energy. (Bugger!, I`m being beaten by Winnie the Pooh and bloody Bubbles the chimp). There were large flags on the pavements which were gusting in the wind. I ran too close to one and it smashed my glasses off. Fortunately, a girl behind me stopped before she stood on them. Blind as well as fat and stupid would have not been ideal to finishing the race. The last 5km were the usual painful ordeal of watching people pass you while you attempted to pass others. We had started at 11am It was getting dark by the time I finished. I was very pleased to finish the 42 kilometres in 5 hours and 23 minutes, 26 mins faster than the Tsukuba marathon. The next day I came down with a dreadful cold and cough but my legs had made a full recovery.
The Rough Guide says "Japan`s unique contribution to the hotel scene is the capsule hotel which originated in the early 1970s to cater for office workers who missed their last train home. Inside, ranks of plastic or fibreglass cubicles contain everything the stranded, often inebriated, salaryman could want... but it is definitely not for claustrophobics". One Saturday night after teaching, I met US Kip and UK Matthew. We caught a train to Tokyo and walked to the Asakusa district and checked into the Riverside Capsule Hotel. Entering on the second floor, we removed our shoes, left them in shoe lockers and slipped on, er, slippers. Checking in, we were a key and given capsules on the fifth floor. A door sealed off the room from the outside world and toilets. On the other side of the door, it was dark and deadly silent. It was like entering a morgue. There were 26 capsules double deckered in two lines with about 3 metre corridor. We had ‘upper’ capsules, the floor of which was about head height. In the darkness, I assumed there would be a glass door entrance to unlock with my key. I searched for a lock in the dark, only to have Kip stick his hand through the `door’ and smirk “No Bob. Look. No glass”. Doh!
Leaving my slippers on the floor, I climbed the short ladder and crawled into the plastic coffin. It was actually larger than I imagined; about 8 x 4 feet. There was a mattress with eiderdown/pillow folded up, ready to make your bed. A TV was at the entrance in one corner. It was already on with 8 channels of Japanese crap available. At the other end, I found , in the darkness, a consule and pressed buttons until a spotlight came on and I could see the TV/radio controls and an alarm clock all built in. A flimsy curtain was dropped over the entrance for privacy.
Arriving at 11.30pm, it was busy. Japanese men walked around in hired cotton dressing gowns, (`yukata`), sat in lobby areas full of vending machines, smoking and watching TV. Some were also dressed in green medical tunics. While we waited for the small lift to come, the door opened. Four Japanese men all in greentunics, a couple with facemasks, one with a white bandana, stared blankly back at us. They looked like a cross between surgeons and orderlies from a mental hospital. "Oh No!", exclaimed Matthew, "They`ve finally come to get me!", taken aback by the sight. As soon as the lift door closed, we just creased up with laughter. After the last hour of drinking at an izekaya, we returned around 1am. I slept very well, even if I felt like Major Tom in a large plastic coffin/mini space lab.
Photo of Typical Capsule Hotel
Another Photo of Typical Capsule Hotel
Yet Another Photo of Typical Capsule Hotel
Early the next morning, I found an onsen on the top (9th) floor. Probably my last onsen in Japan, I enjoyed a great view of the Asahi Brewery Headquarters building with the huge `golden turd` on the roof.
Photo of Aahi Brewery Headquarters
I walked down by the river past the homeless colony which lived in small tidy shacks. They may be poor, but they still left their shoes outside their huts! It was unbelievably tidy with large plastic bags of crushed pop cans. It looked like the Japanese version of `The Wombles of Wimbledon Common`. (1970s UK Children`s TV Show). Around 8am, I met up with UK Jamie, who had been nightclubbing in Tokyo all night and Yuka from Shimodate school and her friend who had both got up at 4am to get down to Tokyo.
Terue, the Japanese teacher at Bernard School (who had invited me to the Ishioka festival in September), had a friend who was a sumo wrestler. She had arranged for us to visit a Sumo `stable` to watch them train. We had an address, but the crazy Japanese address system even threw Yuka. Eventually, a local lady (`are you local?`) guided us for 20 minutes through the backstreets. We passed the Edo Tokyo Museum, which standing on four huge pillars looked like a gigantic concrete spaceship had landed in downtown Tokyo.
360` 3D Panning Shot of Edo Tokyo Museum
Another Photo of Edo Tokyo Museum
Inevitably, when we arrived at 8.45am, noone was there. We knocked up someone who told us of another stable where they were training and we jumped in a taxi (my first in Japan) to save hours trying to find it. Removing our shoes, we were invited to sit on tatami mats and watch the training which had been underway for some time. Just to the right of the front door was a pit with a Dohyo (the circular area in which they battle). This was a hard clay platform with a thin layer of sand spread over it. About 15 sumo wrestlers of different sizes were congregated around it. On our level, half a dozen trainers sat cross legged and yelled instructions/advice at their trainees.
It was a completely different experience to the sumo tournament where we watched the decorative rituals from a distance. Today it was a group of sweating grunting monsters of men going through their paces a few feet away. They just wore a basic `mawashi` belt (the giant sumo jockstrap) and had their long jet black hair pulled back tightly over their heads and tied at the back. Someone would be put into the ring to compete against all comers. No rest. He`d wrestle someone, win or lose and line up to take on the next contender, rapidly getting exhausted. There was no `pysching up`. It was heads down and charge.
When we arrived, the `victim` was the smallest sumo wrestler I had seen. He was about my size and weight but had legs like tree trunks. He was like a pit bull terrier game for anything. He took on wrestlers three times his weight and threw them out of the ring through quicker speed and sheer strength. But he took a beating. His ears were bleeding badly, as were his knees and elbows, from crashing down onto the hard clay. It looked a brutal sport. You could hear the bones crack with the force of impact. He must have fought 15 bouts before someone else took over.
Periodically, they would take a sip of water, but were not allowed to swallow it. The sweat was coming off them in buckets. Most of the wrestlers had their feet and knees strapped up with plasters. I noticed a couple of apprentices who were not participating but still stood around as part of the communal support. One had his entire thigh in a strap and all the skin had been torn off his shoulder. The other was badly bruised, black and blue all over. They had both obviously taken a beating. The larger guys spent a lot of time stretching, and practising moves off to the side before they went up each other. The pounding slap of bone and skin echoed around the room as they crashed into each other. It was like hitting a wall of skin/fat/muscle with all your strength and trying to stay balanced enough to push the opponent out of the ring.
During one period, one of the larger wrestlers would stand, feet apart in a grappling position and the chosen `opponent` would have to charge into them and push them back to the edge of the ring, both still standing. The larger`s guy feet would slide across the sand It was like a human version of those American football battering rams. If the `victim` failed, they were given a half roll over the sand and have to snap back to their feet and do it again. They did this a dozen times, getting exhausted and taking one roll after another.
We sat and watched the training for 90 minutes. I felt different emotions; absolutely riveted by the spectacle, feeling very small and very weak but also feeling very privileged to be watching it. Not many westerners get to see the training which is renowned as `torturous`. Whenever I watch sumo wrestling on TV, I will know what they went through to get where they are.
Series of Photos of Sumu Wrestlers Training Stable
I was reluctantly dragged out by the girls. Jamie went home to sleep having been up for 24 hours. We walked in the rain to Senso Ji to have our fortunes read. The last time I had pulled a stick out of the box, it was a terrible forecast. But today I got No85. Best Fortune.”Even if your desire will be slow to come, its better for you not to be anxious so much. You will gradually become famous and peaceful. You getting good help, your wishes will be finally realized. Your way goes to the Paradise of the saints and you can live long at ease.
*Your wishes will be realized
*The patient will get well
*The lost article will be found
*The person you are waiting for will come
*Building a new house and removal are both good
*It is good to make a trip
*Both marriage and employment are good.
The girls headed for lunch and I headed to Nishigahara to check out the Earthquake Science Museum at the Tokyo Northern Disaster Research Centre which is geared up for disaster prevention training for children/students. Everything was in Japanese but they had information on `what causes earthquakes`, an online seismic recorder and advice on how to secure your furniture in preparation. This even involved tying string across your shelves of glasses and plates (this may be great if there was some warning of an earthquake, but imagine living for years whereby every time you needed some crockery you had to untie the string!). There was good video footage of the 1995 Kobe earthquake and all the destruction; one entire section of elevated freeway was toppled onto its side along with lots of fires everywhere caused by the giant quake. Some grainy footage of the 1923 Great Tokyo (Kanto) Earthquake (when 200,000 people were killed.) had horrific footage of piles of dead bodies on the streets that looked like scenes from a Jewish concentration camp in World War Two.
I had come specifically for one thing; the earthquake simulator that lets you experience the exact magnitude and duration of the 1923 Kanto Earthquake and the 1995 Kobe Earthquake. Since I was the only person there, I had to find someone to come and operate it. A 3 room apartment had been set up on a large wooden platform. I had to remove my shoes before I stepped up to sit on the tatami mats. The man stood by a console and narrated in Japanese, but I got the gist of it. Firstly, he demonstrated the different levels of earthquakes from 2 to 8 on the Richter Scale. Two was just a judder, three was about the same as when tea had spilt from my cup during a tremor last summer (the heaviest I have felt in Japan). Then it got worse until 8 when I was sitting on my knees, but being thrown about, gritting my teeth with an inane smile because there was nothing I could do until the motion stopped.
Then he played a simulation of the 1923 Kanto earthquake which was like being on a rollercoaster without moving forwards. It started with a great magnitude of movement. I was seriously thrown about before recovering during a quiet period of seconds before it went off again. It rumbled along for minutes and I became completely disorientated and wondered how any building could withstand the stress of this movement. Obviously they didn`t. This was followed by a 1995 Kobe simulation. It started with a huge judder, died down and then there was another massive jolt. Much quicker than Tokyo`s, but I was still recovering from that. It was great entertainment but also educational. I`ve never seen something like before but thoroughly recommend it.
Teaching wise, I was increasingly going through the motions. There was a light at the end of the tunnel and I started to count down the days. There were lots of absences by teenagers doing their end of year exams. Other High School students dropped out to prepare for their University entrance exams. Some adults changed jobs, had to relocate and also disappeared. And yet, new children and adults also came to observe and joined my classes. I never had anyone who didn`t join. I enjoyed teaching new kids (because I knew what I was doing) and meeting new adults to chat about different things. I was averaging about 25 hours a week, cruising and had every Wednesday off in February.
I did, however, due to my `popularity` with the 4 year olds, have to return to Daiho kindergarten in Shimotsuma for two more 45 minute lessons with the little monsters (see previous email for first experience). It was awful. 22 kids. 8 would hang off my legs like humping dogs, others trying to stick their hands in my pockets, others just sitting around completely disinterested while the Japanese staff tried to get them to join in. Total bedlam. I just kept them running around. I was an entertainer, not a teacher. I would drag my weary arse out of there, ready to go home but have to drive on to Shimodate school for a full day`s teaching. Who said teaching was fun?
February 14th was Valentines Day. Inevitably, the Japanese do it backwards. It is the women that give men and other girlfriends cards and presents. I lucked in with boxes of chocolates from various mothers and teaching assistants. On February 22nd, I turned 43. It was no big deal. I taught for 6 hours during the Saturday afternoon and later in the evening a handful of teachers came around for a drink and a chat into the early hours.
I was conscious that I would soon be walking around every major National Park in South Korea and needed to start training for the trip. On my Wednesdays off, I walked around the Mt Tsukuba mountain ranges along the `Skyline` toll road, which was an undulating strip of bitumen across the top of the range which had splendid views down over the plains and over at the other ranges. After a late February snowstorm, the hills were covered in snow. There was no sign of greenery yet. I also started jogging most days around the empty rice paddies near Grimdale.
As February ended, I`d been in Japan for 350 days. I had 20 days left....
1. Chain oil/lubricants are strictly prohibited.
2. Bells may not be used.
3. Only grey or burgundy paint is allowed.
4. All bikes must be parked within 3ft. of convenience store entranceways, within 1 ft. of a public phone, or randomly along the sidewalk.
5. Replacing your bike prematurely is also prohibited - you must keep it for at least 15 years.
6. Riding in a straight line is punishable by law.
7. All women over the age of 30, while riding their bikes, must have a daikon (root vegetable) longer than 2ft. in their baskets (can be replaced with spring onions).
8. All bicycles must be fitted with a 'pedestrian homing device'.
9. It is also punishable by law to have a light.
10. No less than six people/students should be riding on the sidewalk side-by-side
11. (and this is a TRUE rule in Japan) .... All seats must be COMPLETELY lowered so that you ride with your knees smacking your nostrils (the reasoning for this rule is that little kids in Japan are taught that it is safer if they can put their feet flat on the ground when stopped despite the pain experienced when riding)
12. You must ride your bike at night on the darkest street with no lights against the traffic
13. Ride with at least four of your friends strategically placed on your bike (preferably those from your high school who wear their skirts the shortest)
