1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
We five make the trip in Barry’s car, travelling first on the highway to
Mashiko, then turning off somewhere to proceed down a winding road through the
countryside. We’ve all eaten supper and will arrive before long since our journey
won’t be interrupted every few minutes by bus stops.
Barry is enjoying the road! He himself is now Sterling Moss racing his
Mercedes 350 SLR in the “Mille Miglia” against other steely-eyed maniacs
hurtling madly from Brescia in Ferraris, Maseratis, Lancias, and Alpha Romeos:
double-clutch downshifts, heel-and-toe braking, wheels turned wide opposing
understeer in every turn. Legends never die! Barry the Intrepid applies just the
right finesse to avoid a violent crash into vineyard or down Appen precipice. Dirt
flys. Exhaust sings. Engine screams. Black thick clouds of dust boil high behind.
Fortunately for them, the cheering throngs of Italian (and Japanese) peasants have
all gone safely home for supper. At last, we career round a corner, then glide onto
the crunchy gravel path leading to Knapper’s home. Coming to a stop, Barry
switches off the key. His old Honda heaves a sigh.
Like everyone in our group, Gurd Knapper is also in his mid twenties:a big
German with wavy shorter blonde hair that seems slightly unnatural, as if it had
been waved; a big square face; and a big constant toothy grin that also seems
slightly unnatural. Trying too hard, I sense. Like Randy, Knapper-san has been in
Japan for many years. Far from his place of birth, Japan would be his life-long
home.
Knapper-san leads us round the corner to stairs into the house. Sandra and
Yoshimi carry some snacks they have made. Randy, Barry, and I carry the beer
(biru). This is ‘Kirin Biru’ (“Giraffe” brand beer), contained in two litre ‘garasu
bin’ (glass bottles) — as opposed to ‘kan-biru’ (canned beer), a recent invention.
by Morley Evans