Osaka, the sniffer dog, and getting my balls squeezed.

march 17th - 19th

So here i am in Osaka airport, and i am waiting for my bag to come around the conveyer belt and i see this sniffer dog come out......oh before i forget, i had to give finger prints at immigration, that was all a bit George Orwell (everyone had to give fingerprints, i am not in trouble or anything).

So anyway, out comes this sniffer dog with these two rock hard looking coppers, and i start panicking that maybe someone in the room at the hostel put some drugs inside my backpack, proper paranoia.

well as you know, my award winning poker face may as well be a neon sign saying what i am thinking, so they must have seen this and made a b line for me and made me put my small bag down for the dog to sniff, and then waited til my rucksack came round the belt.

well you know what it is like, it is bad enough when you pull up next to a policeman or are walking through customs even when you have nothing, so you can imagine me stood there with a sniffer dog and 2 samurai warriors waiting for my bag. I did not know where to look.

Anyway, obviously there was nothing to worry about, but then i got stopped at customs and proper searched. put it this way, afterwards this bloke could tell me if i had testicular cancer, he had a right grab at me cobblers to feel if i had any drugs down there. All that was missing was a strip search. He proper scared me, it was like a ninja Phil Vale.

After that scary start i then had to negotiate the rail system. all the books and websites say it is the best and the easiest.....nope.

the problem here is that everything is in Japanese!

as i stood there scratching my head, a young girl (ooh matron) came up to me and asked me if i needed any help.

Here we go, bubble tea again i thought, but she was fit, so i gave her the benefit of the doubt. But she was genuine and even helped me to buy my ticket.

I can not get over how nice the people here are it makes you realise just how rubbish the UK is.

On the tube an old man kept telling me how many stops i had to go, and then when doing my usual and taking the wrong street to the hostel, a local man on his way in to the shop actually went back to his car to get a map, and an old bloke walked with me 3 streets out of his way to show me where to go.

Everywhere, and i mean everywhere, even from busy people filling shelves in supermarkets you get genuine warmth and something we do not have in the UK, courtesy.

And the women are proper fit too.

The hostel is really nice, it has only been open a month so everything is nice and new, oh and it has those electric toilets! The toilet seat is heated, but the biggest surprise was when i hit the "bum gun" button (it was like the instrument console of a plane) thinking i would get a gentle splash, but i got the shock of my life as it was as powerful as a water canon that the police use in riots,

but,

and here is the thing,

it hit the bullseye better than Robin Hood! It was a proper carry on moment as i went cross eyed.

Every hostel has a resident psycho. Usually a woman, but that is not surprising as they are all mentally ill anyway, just that some cover it better than others (only til they get married anyway) and guess who she took an instant dislike to.....?

How was i to know her room was next to the laundry room and that every time i left the door open it made a noise in her room. I could not understand it, i would nip out to see how long was left, and as soon as i turned the corner i heard it slam shut.

Problem was i had to check not only the wash, but 2 drying cycles as well, so i probably nipped out about 10 times. Well the last slam nearly took the door off it's hinges as she caught me red handed on my way back out, so all i get now is the evils off her.

ha ha. now i know what room she is in i might bang on it then run off later. serve her right.

oh, had a bit of a disaster as well, watch the video clip entitled "UH - OH"

next installment...................the psycho and the kitchen punch up