Four Days in Fukuoka
Four minutes after meeting Greg, it felt like the 8 months apart were gone. The time had melted away over the hot starbucks coffee. Our drinks were repeated like an ancient incantation: coffee, water, beer, water, coffee, water, beer, water, on and on it went as we talked about past, present, future, past, present, future. Japan and Korea were compared and judged, Canada and the U.S. were weighed and discussed as Manitoba and Texas merged into one place and then became different again.
Beers by the river turned into a live rock show featuring CCR covers. Friendly gang members showed us an Internet cafe where we could sleep. A hike to the beach was rewarded with cola from the big yellow joint. A late train to Nagasaki resulted in a war memorial seen on a dark rainy night. No room at the inn, no room at the internet cafe, no room at the onsen, no sleep that night.
Returned to Fukuoka by the very first train, and we were reenergized by the onsen. Every hotel in town is called and reservations made. Greg’s old friend is met and a pub crawl began at 3pm and ends at midnight. A proper bed means a ten hour coma.
A ten hour coma ends and a city explored. Two copters and one firetruck is an emergancy rescue team. Twenty men called to rescue one. ‘”The water is still too cold to swim in” is the lesson the man learned. Mentai pizza at the big yellow joint. Stuffed crust pizza at Domino’s. It turns out that any distance can be walked if you have the time. Sleep like the dead. Feet feel dead. Morning is met and ways parted over starbucks coffee. The time had melted away.
