Jolly japes and not a little trouble.

I

Car 9 and car 14 decide to be very naughty and have a little off piste adventure today.  Rather than careering around a race track or negotiating an obstacle race, we decide to go to the seaside town of Beppu.  Two Italian crews in hire cars asked to join us.

Beppu has almost 3,000 geo thermal springs and the whole place looks as if it's steaming  and smells of sulphur.  The main reason for visiting was to have a hot sand bath, it being the only place in Japan where that is possible. I'd been before and so knew what to expect, for the others, it was a newexperience as it is not too commonly available in West Sussex or Milan. 

Needless to say, it was fab, if a little coffin like. You change into a yukata, lie down on the hot sand and lovely ladies rake it all over you, just leaving your head poking out. They then proceed to back it all down and you lie there, unable to move for 15 minutes.  I wiggled my toes and was severely admonished at one point.  After your allotted time you shower, move to  another chamber, wash all over with a little bucket perched on a miniature stool and then plunge into the hot spring pool. 

By this time, it was almost 3 and lunch had not happened. Pads, our restaurant guru (I'm attractions guru) researched and found a good sushi restaurant nearby. One of the modern cars offered to lead the way.  All well and good but us oldies lost them. We had a vague idea where it was but the two aged and fat American cars ended up getting stuck down really narrow dead ends and had one hell of a job getting outWe decided to abandon the idea of lunch and finding our Italian friends and instead to head off to drive the 100 or so kms to our home for the night. We were just turning around when a police car pulled up and two policemen demanded to see all Paddy's papers for the car, passport, driving licenses, registration documents - the lot. We showed them all our paperwork, letters of permission ( written in Japanese) and tried to explain what we were in Japan for. They were not happy. We managed to get hold of our local agent on the phone and she spoke to them and explained but still they would not let us go. They were most unhappy about Stanley's number plate. It reminded me of last summer when our British registered Defender was clamped in New ORleans fur having an irregular registration plate. 

Adrian, Pete and I did not seem to worry them as much as that notorious international man of mystery, P Walker. Eventually, after much wrangling, we were allowed to contiI should also mention that we had car trouble a few times during the day - losing power, having to clean out jets and general nonsense. Paddy and Pete didn't have any brakes to speak as we left Beppu, which made the long drive to the hotel in stop/start traffic a little interesting as they got weaker and weaker. 

But what a day we had. High jinks and filled with laughter. We arrived at our massive, anonymous hotel just in time for dinner which, as we had not eaten since our small breakfast we fell upon with gusto - Adrian, Paddy and Pete filling two plates each all washed down with copious beer. 

Next day:

We are making our way to Hiroshima and saying "sayonara" to Kyushu. As I write, we're on the side of the motorway with the same crappy fuel issues and our fabulous  mechanics giving everything a thorough clean through. We have delicious fruitcake, made by Treacy so we're not suffering too much. I had forgotten that we were guardians of the cake yesterday, when we could have done with it, but having broken into it just now, I, along with Adrian, Pete, Paddy, Richard and Charlie can report that it is scrummy!

Later:  all well pipes blown out, carburettor had a spring clean and we've just arrived at our hotel in Hiroshima.  I'm off on a boat to an enchanted island. Mr S. is staying behind to drain the petrol tank and get rid of any remaining filth.