It's funny because it's true.

A Cat's Map of the Bed. I share because I laugh.

Today I went to Fushimi Inari and became very, very lost. Fushimi Inari is commonly explained in the dorm as "that one place with all the tori gates," and I really know no better way of putting it. There are several trails there, portions of which are covered with hundreds of tori. Like every four inches, another large tori gate. It was very pretty and horrifically marked. I couldn't even play the match-the-kanji game to any good use.

Long story short, after heading down a hill reminiscent of my Mt. Fuji descent in both its length and pitch, I found myself in the middle of a residential neighborhood. After some failed attempts at understanding Japanese directions (I know "right," "left," and "straight" but have little vocab to assist me in knowing where to do these things), a very kind jogger in his fifties guided me back up said hill (which took 20 minutes, and was reminiscent of my Mt. Fuji ascent, panting and all) and back onto the trail.

This wasn't strictly necessary. But the company was nice anyway. Not that I could understand him at all. Like there was this one bit where he kept saying "buushi" and "irakki" and then repeating "dame ne?" (no good, right?). It took me forever and an age to figure out that he was talking about President Bush and Iraq.

He also had a fanny pack. The End.