Biei Police Box

Day 40, July 2nd: Set out for Asahikawa via Patchwork Road. The weather was perfect, the odd farmer, the odd tractor, perfectly rolled bales of hay, and cows lying next to a mountain of manure. I decided to move on around three o’clock, but felt I’d forgotten something.

Early Morning, Patchwork Road

In all the excitement of seeing an idyllic field complete with hay bales, I lost my camera. Must’ve left it on the rear pannier, put in the earphones and cycled off. Two hours later I walked into Biei police box. Nobody there. I rang the bell round the side. A guy told me to go in, pick up the phone and I would be through to a policeman.
I did as I was told. Sat down behind the desk and picked up the phone.
“Moshi moshi.”
“Moshi moshi, sumimasen, eigo o hanashimasu ka (do you speak English?)”
“Chotto matte o kudasai (just a moment).”

I waited. A guy walked in holding some kind of fisherman’s anorak and saw me on the phone. That must have confused the hell out of him.
Then the local policeman appeared. I put the phone down and stood up like I was at a job interview. After explaining my situation, I was asked to sit down. I was then asked to show my passport. He photocopied it and tried to fax it somewhere. The phone rang. The policeman said it was for me.

“Ah hello. Sorry for your waiting. I am from Foreign Affairs. The policeman cannot understand your passport; he is faxing it to us. Please wait. Sorry.”

Foreign Affairs? The phone rang again five minutes later.

“Do you have your alien card?”
“Uhhh no—uhhh, I dunno—yes, I think so.”
“Please show to policeman. Sorry for your waiting; we are just seeing if you can stay in Japan. Sorry.”

I sat there watching the guy take a whole hour to figure out the fax machine. The phone rang again.

“Okay no problem Mr Norrie, you can stay in Japan.”
“And, uhhh, my camera?”
“Oh camera. Hai, we will call you if found, so what are you doing in Hokkaido?”
“Oh, just cycling around, it’s a project of mine, should be finished in Okinawa by January… uh July… yes July actually… next week in fact. Uh… Hokkaido! It’s lovely here, have you been?” Totally not enabling the filter function in my brain. Not having a job to go to, I should've spared the details.
“Yes I have. So, enjoy your time in Japan. Good luck.”
“Yeah, arigato… anata mo (you too).”

I snatched all my shit back from the highly technical police officer and went to eat. I slurped down the miso-based fuel at the ramen shop, asking for water every couple of minutes to have an excuse to talk to the girl.

It was dark. Sat outside 7 Eleven, people-watching until two o’clock: mostly dudes with dyed orange hair, and girls in come-fuck-me boots getting in and out of cars.