Repeating myself
This is a hard one to write a caption for
It was an action-packed week (again).
That is, if you count the worst two days of the year as action-packed.
Last Sunday night I was up until quite late (and quite sober, I might add) working- mainly email/scheduling stuff. I had to get up early on Monday morning because of the trip that we (graf) were going on. We all had to be at graf by 08:45, where we’d get on the bus and head off to Fukui, and then Kanazawa.
Problem was I woke up (quite naturally) and when I looked at my clock nearly had a heart attack. It was 08:51,
Several panicky telephone calls later, I was somehow up, packed and sprinting for a taxi. I ended up being 45 minutes late. That was “Bad Event Number 1” (or BEN1).
I profusely apologised to my fellow 33 passengers, bus driver and bus companion and we were on our way. We were barely on the expressway when the beers were opened. The day was looking good after all.
BEN2 came shortly thereafter. At a modern art museum several hours later I realised that when I walked I was tilting to the right. I checked my boots (the waterproof GoreTex Zamberlans that I had chosen to wear that day because it was really raining hard) and realised that the sole was disintegrating. There I was in a modern art museum and the only deconstructivism was at the bottom of my feet. I mean really. I was leaving dark brown rubber dust (and occasional chunks of foam) wherever I walked. This was getting embarrassing. The right sole peeled off. I devised a method of looping my shoelaces up, over and under my shoes to try to keep them together. It seemed to be working.
It must have been because I hadn’t worn the shoes for almost a year; apparently (as everyone seemed to know as they delighted in telling me) you have to “wear your shoes often otherwise this is what happens”.
BEN3 happened at the same museum when it was discovered that nobody had brought the cables needed for the video projector to show my film. But I was so worn down, I could have handled anything by this stage.
We made it to our ryokan, rested and then were off for dinner. Much merriment ensued. Copious quantities of fine sake was drunk. Much seafood was eaten. Our hosts then took us to a wine bar (we were in Kanazawa by this point) where inexplicably, we ordered many bottles of Belgian beer and Spanish wine. What started out as 34 people (plus guests) was gradually getting whittled down. Eventually, around 01:00 on Tuesday morning, there were 7 of us left. Naturally we decided to go to karaoke. I needn’t explain what happened next.
Sometime around 04:00 we arrived back at our ryokan and now there two. People that is. Again, quite inexplicably, we decided that we couldn’t possibly call it another night until we had another beer. Thanks to the 24 hour beer vending machine of which we promptly availed ourselves, we were in luck, sitting in the dark, sipping our lagers and trying not to wake anyone.
We went to bed.
And then BEN4.
I woke up. I felt bad. I rushed to the toilet. I filled my sinuses with bile. It was the terrible.
BEN5 of course is directly connected to this; the hangover. I have always gotten off lightly in the hangover department. I may feel a little tired or washed out after drinking too much, but that’s usually about the extent of it. On Tuesday 16 November this changed.
Despite visiting the “21st Century Museum” in Kanazawa, which I would like to add was the most stimulating modern art museum I have ever been to, I had a hangover so bad that just remembering it makes me… oh gosh, stop, I have to…