This week, I moved from Kansai (western Japan) to Kanto (eastern Japan).
Osaka and the rest of Kansai has been really good to me. In the way grandmothers are good to you because they constantly ask you to eat more cake. I stuffed my face with all of the fried, baked, generally not-all-that-healthy things the region’s famous for. And then a bit more, because it was delicious.
Moving on has been sad, partly because I miss the food.
The area I now live in translates into English as ‘summit of a large hill’. I figured that wasn’t too accurate. Osaka means ‘big hill’ and it’s reasonably flat.
As it turns out, the place I’m staying is in fact up a hill. And then up a set of stairs… and then up another hill. Google Street View didn’t make that particularly clear.
Go back to a post I made a few months ago and you’ll remember I’ve put on weight here in Japan. Flat roads and abundant calories more than cancel out the amount of walking I did. That post was three months in. It’s now another three months down the attractively flat road. I dread to think what I tip the scales at now.
Oh, you may scoff. But Kady, you’re a wisp of a thing! I may be short, but that just means less places for the fat to try and even itself out. I am so unfit. Add in some childhood asthma and a persistent cough, and I’m in trouble.
This hill is determined to do me in. It spotted my weak lungs and clogged arteries a mile off. It was a dark night, so for all I know this hill also rubbed its hands with glee as I approached.
I almost didn’t make it up here at all. My suitcase was kicking and screaming more than I was.
Let’s hope this isn’t the literal hill I chose to die on…
