The 'Betsu.

Helmet and life-jacket: Montbell; Rash guard: Quicksilver; Trunks: Mizuno; Sandals: Crocs; Attitude; model's own.

"Man, we're not going up that goddamn river, man. No way, man. I'm too short, man.

"I can't feel my legs! Man, what the ...."

"Did you squash it?" "Yeah, I squashed it".

"INCOMING!!!!!!!!"

Forest Kozan.

Forest Goddamn Kozan.

This time they had us trekking through 80 yards of unrelenting, watery hell.

The bastards.

70 desperate parents and kids battling for survival in the bear-ridden, snake-plagued forests of Noboribetsu. Or 'the 'Betsu' as us 1000-yard stare vets of that campaign have come to call it.

Man, you don't know what it was like. You weren't there.

Man.

Actually it was a great day out. Organized by our local communist cooperative, sorry, residents' association, 'the chonaikai', the trip was designed as a day out amidst nature's splendor for the kids in the area. There is something to be said for living in a predominantly retired community whose members have the time and motivation to put together such a wonderful day. Not only did they organize the river trekking / falling down/ flailing in the water activities, but they also prepared, cooked and served a heart meal of curry rice; they also organized the bus, the equipment, the post-lunch competitions (Cian being the surprise winner of the much coveted "Who can kick their shoe the furthest" competition); the sugary snacks for when energy levels began to slip; and they did all this for free. Yes, free.

And to all that I say, "God/Buddha/various Shinto deities of indeterminate origin, bless this country I currently call home".