Observations: Only in Moscow

So having been back in Moscow for a couple of weeks now, I have managed to compile a few choice cuts from what I like to call ‘the lifestyle’ here. Firstly I arrived back in the country at one thirty in the morning and was initially pleased to find my Russian hadn’t deserted me completely over the summer as I made short work of getting a reputable taxi sorted out. Now when I say reputable, I mean a genuine one that has an agent and a desk at the airport. I don’t mean one of the plethora of guys who approach as soon as you enter the arrivals hall, trying to close a deal with you by showing you a folded piece of paper that supposedly suggests that such a person is a properly licensed taxi driver.

Despite my taxi being ‘genuine’, it was still ‘genuinely Russian’ in that it kind of goes without saying that the speedometer in the tiny lada/van hybrid thing didn’t work at all. So there we were, my friendly driver and I hurtling along the road into Moscow, chatting pleasantly about how the weather has been in the last six weeks, at a hundred, two hundred maybe a million miles an hour, who knows? What I do know is that the needle on the speedometer stayed at a consistent zero kph for the entire journey!

However I arrived home to our new flat unscathed and in record time. So the new home and a new beginning in this fast, furious and fabulous city. Just prior to going on holiday three of my dear friends and I decided to move into a new flat together. After what felt like several months of searching for the right place for all of us, we eventually settled on a large flat, located inside one of Joe Stalin’s famous ‘Seven Sisters’.

It was unfortunately completely unfurnished, but after a couple of fairly arduous journeys to ‘Ikea’ in the north of the city we managed to at least get a bed for all of us and a few other essentials. Despite the fact that the ongoing homemaking project is continuing rather slowly, the flat did come complete with a twenty metre balcony/veranda type area, one of only four on the whole structure, an actual bar/pub in the flat itself and a famous landlord. Therefore I still feel that all in all, we’ve fallen on our feet really. The obligatory and forthcoming housewarming party has been delayed by a lack of seating, but when it finally does happen, I’m sure it’ll be some bash.

Enough of the boasting, back to a few more amusing observations from my first two weeks in this utterly bonkers environment. Now being as my holiday was such a healthy one and that training has been going so well, I was determined not to fall into ‘the lifestyle’ in the same way I had last year, particularly the earlier part, the less said about that, the better (It’ll just be known as the ‘lost period’).

So during a recent special event to which I had turned up after training, I was desperately hungry and decided to sit and eat a late dinner with a friend. As I continued to shovel copious amounts of pasta into my face, she pointed over my shoulder and said something in her funky Russian/New Yorker accent like “Check it out. That girl’s had a good evening.” Bless this poor sole, I have no idea who she is, and I’m pretty sure she didn’t have much of a clue either, but she remained motionless in this position for quite some time and the photo opportunity was just too hard to resist. Whoever you are, you’re a star, please don’t sue me.

And finally surely only in Moscow would you find this; the kind of man who could only be described as a ‘douche bag’ and would think that to wear something as vulgar as this jumper makes him look cool. And so ladies and gentlemen of this weird and wonderful city I’ll just say in a kind of ‘Ron Bergundy’ way; stay classy, and for the two individuals discovered this time, just please to try to do so.

Today's Inspiration

"A certain swordsman in his declining years said the following:
In one's life, there are levels in the pursuit of study. In the lowest level, a person studies but nothing comes of it, and he feels that both he and others are unskillful. At this point he is worthless. In the middle level he is still useless but is aware of his own insufficiencies and can also see the insufficiencies of others. In a higher level he has pride concerning his own ability, rejoices in praise from others and laments the lack of ability in his fellows. This man has worth. In the highest level a man has the look of knowing nothing.
These are the levels in general. But there is one transcending level, and this is the most excellent of all. This person is aware of the endlessness of entering deeply into a certain 'Way' and never thinks of himself as having finished. He truly knows his own insufficiencies and never in his whole life thinks that he has succeeded. He has no thoughts of pride but with self-abasement knows the 'Way' to the end. It is said that Master Yagyu once remarked, "I do not know the way to defeat others, but the way to defeat myself."
Throughout your life advance daily, becoming more skillful than yesterday, more skillful than today. This is never ending."
- Today's inspiration was brought to by Yamamoto Tsunetomo translated by William Scott Wilson in 'Hagakure: The Book of the Samurai.

Roller-coasters, Rash guards and Riots

Good morning campers, yes the Cap is back. I probably could be considered the worst ‘blogger’ of all time, as it’s pretty much a year since my last entry. Well I have no real excuse, except to say, that as the title suggests, the year has been quite a ride, full of highs and lows.

So let’s begin anew with a brief summary of my recent holiday at home with friends and family. I’d just like to say a big thank you to all those who helped make the last six weeks or so, a truly fabulous time. Touring England and Wales and training with old teachers and old friends was very much the personal highlight for me.

To the guys in my childhood home of Kernow (Cornwall), I really enjoyed my time with you, keep blasting and I wish you all the best for the future. Thanks to Raphael Dos Santos for the guard passing master class. Big thanks to ‘Stormin’ Norman for all the driving as well as the rolling.

Then it was onto Plymouth, Devon – thanks to all the guys there for a very tough workout in what is probably the hottest fan assisted BJJ/MMA oven in the country! Thank you specifically to Tom Barlow for tightening up my leg attacks at his great seminar; these pointers will be particularly useful in dealing with the Russian Sambo players. And good luck to Tom at the forthcoming ADCC event in Nottingham.

Next was a stop in my previously adopted city of Cardiff, Wales for some Filipino martial arts with my old students, Mark ‘Swing-gate’ Springate and Neil ‘the real deal’ Salmoni before being on the receiving end of a good old ass whoopin’ from my bad old friend Rob Taylor.

This was all followed by a northerly trip to Stoke-On-Trent to the Impact Academy, where it was great to see plenty of old faces as well as some new ones, but most of all to see mentor and massive martial arts inspiration, Sifu Dave Carnell once again.

After revisa-ing (look I’ve just made up a word) in London, it was back to sunny Cardiff for another great session with the friendliest and most welcoming guys in the UK BJJ scene and a complete and utter schooling from the legend that is Chris Rees. Thank you to all my martial arts brethren who pushed me and put me back in good shape to make fresh waves in Russia.

Alongside the martial arts there were some great runs and other conditioning sessions both alone and with my oldest and best of friends. And the annual fell running session in the beautiful Brecon Beacons in south Wales is still one of the most therapeutic ways I know of clearing the mind.

And so it’s back to Moscow for another roller-coaster year, there are many things I’ll miss from home including: good old British television (just for the fact that I can understand it… At least most of it anyway – I still haven’t worked out the point of Jeremy Kyle’s existence yet). Salt and vinegar ‘Real McCoys’, actually salt and vinegar crisps in general, being able to drink water directly from the tap, driving a car, seedless grapes, custard creams, fresh unpolluted air, but most of all the friends and family that make my home exactly that, home.

However there are some things that won’t be missed: firstly British television; this time I’m thinking of programming that includes things like Big Brother, X-Factor, the aforementioned Mr. Kyle, and nothing had me more disgusted by my home society than the infamous Geordie Shore – seriously people I’m a notorious idiot, but even I know when and where some lines should be drawn.

However the rioting in parts of London, Birmingham and elsewhere were perhaps the most disturbing sign of a deeper social problem that is possibly only in its infancy. I can’t imagine what my friends from other parts of the world were thinking as they watched the nasty business unfold on the news.

In conclusion, goodbye my fair green country, you are still a wonderful land but please be careful, it seems things are starting to go slightly amiss. I’m left, sitting, enjoying a cup of tea in the departures lounge at Heathrow in anticipation of my imminent return to Moscow.

So then Russia, what have you got for me this time?

I am Sam-urai!

So how do you follow climbing a country's highest mountain? By doing another one the weekend after. This time however, rather than scaling another three thousand plus metre behemouth, I decided that a more leisurely ramble at just over three hundred metres would be enough. This was my 'local' mountain, Gifu City's Mount Kinka, sporting a reconstructed castle at the summit which in it's original form, was of key strategic importance during the warring states period.

Despite being a much smaller undertaking than Mount Fuji, it wasn't exactly undemanding on the old body. This was largely due to the fact that I'd decided to walk out from the city centre to the top of the mountain. That's sounds like a long way, but really as Japan continues to become more and more cluttered with buildings and roads, it's quite easy to walk from cityscape into the 'countryside' in a matter of minutes； depending on the city of course. Anyway the real hardship came from the sweltering heat.

Nobody had warned me before my arrival that barring Okinawa, central Honshu is the hottest part of the country. Anyway leaving in the late afternoon, I figured that I would have avoided the worst of the sun. Of course, I was wrong, as usual, and I found myself hugging the walls of buildings trying desperately to remain in the shade until I reached the heavily forested area at the foot of the mountain range. My skin still hadn't fully recovered from the Fuji sun burn so I didn't want to make it any worse, I now know what vampires must feel like.

There are several trails up through the woods around Mount Kinka, this part was a lot of fun, there was something of an 'Indiana Jonesness' to this place but I wished that I had brought my running shoes instead of my flip flops. Although I was flip flopping and not running, by the time I reached the summit, I was absolutely soaked, rather disgustingly so, to the bone with my own sweat. Luckily the vending machine is never far away in Japan, and after a bottle of the now world famous 'Pocari Sweat', I had all the electrolytes I needed to enjoy the stunning views from the castle's panaromic balcony.

This place is on my shortlist as one of the world's best beer gardens



I decided as the last of the day's light was fading, to take the ropeway (cable car) to return to the bottom. I felt like Roger Moore in 'Moonraker' except for the fact that I wasn't having a desperate fight with a seven foot monster of a man with metal teeth. Taking the ropeway also rewarded me with the opportunty to pose as the famous shogun, Oda Nobunaga, although all the pictures which came out were somewhat dubious.

The Samurai who lost his puppy.

The slightly simple and mischievious samurai who probably has some learning difficulties.

And finally full samurai sporting a big pink third leg (I'm sorry, that obvious knob gag was a bit crude) .

As the knee injury I'd suffered prior to Fuji-san and Kinka-zan began to heal the following weekends have been largely about of making the most of my chance to train at the local Mixed Martial Arts gym. I must admit, it feels quite nice to be the big strong guy here. But in terms of technical skill I'm happy to say that I'm being taken apart. In Russia it was to a certain degree, the other way around. Don't let the appearnaces fool you this little guy has muscles on his muscles. And the reason I had pictures taken here and not a video, is that I can hide the fact that he is clearly kicking my arse, although I've just told everyone so it kind of negates the idea of doing that.

As you can probably tell from the pictures, between training and poorly prepared yomps up various mountains, I've probably sweat more here, than at any other time in my life. And given that I don't drink here really, coupled with the healthy Japanese diet, there can't be a toxin left in my body.

That's all for now. Until next time...

A Fumble Up Fuji-san

I could think of no better way to spend my Japanese 'Obon' summer holiday than attempting to scale the country's highest mountain. Despite carrying a knee injury that I'd picked up a couple of weeks ago, training Jiu-Jitsu, I was determined to make the climb. I'd read a lot of information both online and in guidebooks about how to get to Mount Fuji, but as always, none of it was quite as useful as simply asking people that work in the public transport industry. I was hoping to save money by avoiding the use of the Shinkansen (the famous bullet-train). However the timings for the trains that I was given by the staff in Nagoya were way out. So what would have taken only three hours, had I taken the Shinkansen, took nearly seven!

As typhoon number four of the year (I hadn't even realised there had been a one, two or three this year and I've been here for most of it), swung in from the southwest on Wednesday, it was crucial that I constantly checked the weather reports for the area. It seemed that I would have a small window on Thursday night into Friday morning where the rain would hold off long enough to make the climb under good conditions. As most people attempt the climb during the night in order to avoid the heat of the sun and to watch the sun rise from the summit, I thought I'd do the same. By the time I had finally arrived into Fuji station it was about seven o'clock which I thought would be ideal given that I'd planned to begin climbing at about nine.

However when I arrived I was informed politely by another member of JR staff that I had missed the last bus out to the mountain. To take a taxi would have cost me 10,000 yen, and so it seemed that all the effort in trying to save money by taking the cheaper trains was now undone. I resigned myself to the fact that I was better off finding a cheap hotel for the night and getting the first bus out in the morning. I just had to hope that the weather wouldn't deteriorate, at least until Friday afternoon.

To be honest, I think it turned out for the best, climbing that night would have been extremely difficult as I was already exhausted from the calamitous train journey. So after a brief look around Fuji city and something to eat, I settled into my room at the Fuji Station Hotel. Everything about the hotel was basic, except for the toilet which seemed to have more buttons on it than the average computer keyboard. It reminded me of the 'Alan Partridge' line: "I'd feel like Buck Rogers taking a dump on that... in the twenty-first century".

The morning of Friday the thirteenth: I was up and out first thing to take yet another train ride over to Fuji-nomiya station where the first bus was leaving from. It was on this train that I caught my fist glimpse of the mighty Mount Fuji. After the ninety minute bus ride through the coniferous forests at the foot of the mountain I had finally reached the fifth station, the starting point for most climbers, at 2400 metres above sea-level.

At the beginning...

Now for most people with an average fitness level, the ascent from the fifth station to the summit at 3776 metres should take around six hours. Of course those of you who know me well, will know that in my head, I was saying "but I am no average man!" And so I set off at a blistering pace, deciding that I would rest every hour for about five to ten minutes to take on water, jelly beans and just enjoy the scenery a little. I could see that my relative speed was impressing some of the other climbers and this only spurred me on to go even faster. I would pay for this later.

They start 'em young...

I reached the summit in just under three hours. I then decided to descend into the crater (Mount Fuji is still a volcano after all) to have lunch, which consisted of a packet of mixed nuts. It was here in the crater where the most bizarre and at the same time, wonderful event occurred. I met a young lad called Yuuki who had brought a football with him up the mountain and together we proceeded to have an impromptu kick around in the middle of a volcanic crater.

After the small success that the Japanese had at this year's World Cup they're obviously stepping up the intensity of training at grass roots, making kids climb Mount Fuji before practicing free-kicks on the rocky surface of the crater is hardcore. Anyway after leaving Yuuki alone to practice his free-kicks, I headed back around the perimeter of the crater to begin making my decsent.

Now as I've already mentioned I had climbed the mountain quite quickly and of course, I had seen some people inhailing from aerosol cans of 100% oxygen, but I had thought these to be of little use. I figured that I wouldn't feel the effects of altitude because of my level of fitness and that I would have to go up to at least 8000 metres. However this was a very poorly conceived notion as almost any doctor will tell you it's not about how high you go, but how fast you do it. See -www.traveldoctor.co.uk/altitude.htm.

My descent became an extremely miserable affair, I had a terrible headache, nausia and the temperature had dropped considerably. I was prepared for the cold, but it was still really hard to regulate my body temperature because I had sweat so much on the way up. I was slow and felt a little delirious coming down until between the 7th and 6th stations, I dropped to all fours and vomitted on the side of the mountain. So much for the jelly beans and mixed nuts.

After this however, I felt much better and was able to resume a good pace to get down off the mountain. It wasn't the end of my suffering though. I had decided that for the price it had cost to stay a night in Fuji city, it made more sense to head straight home and at take my inaugural Shinkansen ride. However I was still having difficulty regulating my body temperature and was finding that I was needing to drink a lot of water. Then I discovered that my skin was feeling particularly sensitive and realised that my lack of preparation in the sunscreen department was being brought into question. I'm currently writing this with lobster coloured arms from below the shoulder, legs from below the knee, neck and face.

At the end.

So in conclusion ladies and gentlemen, I do thoroughly recommend a climb up Mount Fuji, you could just be a little better prepared than I was, and please do take the altitude sickness seriously, it's not a nice feeling. However the views were stunning, the people fantastic and it's been without doubt the 'high'light (that was an awful pun, I know) of my time in Japan thus far.

Observations: Fish Knives and Rodent Sweat

That brings us pretty much up to date folks, so I thought I'd share some of the more bizarre, often amusing and at times slightly disturbing discoveries that have been made during my time in Japan. Where to begin... oh I know...

1) The phenomenon of 'Morning Coffee'. Most coffee shops here will have a set menu called a morning coffee set, which is basically what it says, but you'll usually also be served a small salad, a hard-boiled egg and a couple of slices of toast all included in the price. It's not the existence of this very reasonable and pleasant early pick-me-up that is strange. It's the fact that on more than one occasion and at more than one venue, I've been given a fish knife with which to butter my toast. It's not such a big deal, I assume the proprietors felt that it would be apprpriate for their customers to be using a more 'fancy' looking piece of cutlery. However my issue is this: I don't know if anyone else routinely uses a fish knife with which to butter their toast, but if they do, they'll know that the motor skills involved are a little different due to the curvature of the tool and therefore it requires a little practice to get comfortable with this method.

2) The word convenience plays a massive role in Japanese life. The local equivalent of the British off-license or North American 7/11s are known here as 'convenience' stores. And they are very convenient, they are usually open twenty-four hours and stock various groceries and you can even pay your gas and electrticity bills in them. Of course public transport here is world-famous, not only for being convenient but also very easy to use and efficient. However I've never been to any other country in which you can buy pornography in a toy shop! This as I'm sure you'll agree, is a rather disturbing example of convenience being taken a step too far. I can't speak for a anyone else, but personally I like to keep my porn and my 'Lego' very much separated.

3) Anyone who's been to Japan will know about the myriad vending machines and even the phenomenon of people bowing at them in gratitude for serving them a tasty hot or cold beverage. However I think we need to examine some of the products contained within. Firstly the wonderfully titled 'Pocari Sweat'. This is a sports drink made, presumably from the sweat of a Pocari. I'm not exactly sure what a Pocari is, but I think it's a small amphibious rodent that lives in the rainforests of Costa Rica and Belize. Nevetheless, it makes for a refreshing and not unpleasant tasting concoction.

Next the soft drink known as 'Calpis'. Now we all know about the difficulties the Japanese have when it comes to pronouncing certain English letters. For example the English l and r sounds are indistiguishable to the Japanese ear and therefore cause rather amusing problems with pronunciation and spelling. This was so wonderfully demonstrated in the film 'Lost in Translation' and I actually have a student who tells me that his hobby is playing the 'fruit'. I must admit an awful truth, that I've been far too childishly amused by this to work with him on his pronunciation.

However I believe 'Calpis' has been so named to get back at foreigners that giggle at the difficulties Japanese people have with English pronunciation. After all, who in their right mind, would consider half a pint of cow piss a reasonable way to quench one's thirst! As side note, I also have a major issue with Japanese drinks commercials on television. It doesn't matter whether it's a soft drink or an alcoholic beverage, the marketing-men (and women) at 'Calpis', 'Suntory', 'Kirin' and 'Pocari Sweatshop' all believe in the power of hearing the ingestion process in full, and so no drinks advertisement comes without what can only be described as a disgusting, generic 'gulping' sound-effect, as the hero of the ad takes a swig of their product.

4) This little cafe near where I live, goes in my personal collection of pictures of cafes, restaurants, road-signs, shops and other things that have been rather unfortunately titled.

In this particular place you can get much more than just a fish knife and a boiled egg with your coffee. I'm sure you'll all agree, it's quite convenient really.

I'm a Seoul Man!

In May I made a short trip to the Republic of South Korea in order to confirm my legal work status in Japan. Despite the fact that it rained solidly thoughout my time in the capital, I really liked Seoul. It's a chaotic hodge-podge city where tradition and modernity have been brought together so quickly, resulting in ancient temples and palaces sitting right in amongst the sky-scrapers.

　

The subway system is fairly confusing to start with, but you soon get used to it, in fact it has very similar atmosphere to the London Tube. However what is very different from London is the friendliness of the people. The cops all look about twelve but are incredibly helpful whether they speak English or not. I've never been to another city where a businessman will take time out to show a random foreigner which train to take and personally walk you to the platform. And where someone will jump on the wrong train just to give you a street map that fell out of your pocket on the platform.　

I also met a lovely young lad from Singapore, who was remarkably well versed in British comedy. Despite having soaking wet feet for practically the entire time, I had a blast in Seoul, there's always someone around with just what you want or need. It's definitely a place I'd like to return to one day and explore further.