Borrowed Cutlery

Finding the group faced with a critical paper-cup shortage that could cripple our plans to spend the sea crossing from Japan finishing an entire two litre carton of Ume-shu, I headed upstairs to search for a solution. As the kitchen was closed, I headed around the back and knocked on a bulkhead, which opened to display a very confused looking chef. “Uh, can I borrow some cups please?” I asked in Japanese, to an entirely blank face. There was an awkward pause and then he announced “I. AM. KOREAN!” with a huge smile, and presented me with some cups. We were in business. I headed downstairs, only to realise that I needed something to cut the quite sizeable piece of Brie I had bought for half-price in Shimonoseki.

I tromped back upstairs and asked for a plastic knife. “Hmm, maybe no plastic” he said, and disappeared into the kitchen. I heard some rummaging and he wanders back with an enormous, very sharp, metal knife. “Is Ok?” I assured him that it was more than equal to the task of cutting cheese and set off back through the ship, trying to look as much like an innocent nobody as possible and, hopefully, not so much like a six foot four white person stalking homicidally through a ferry with a huge knife.

After that though, everything went exactly as we had forseen, except for the part where an old Israeli woman stole our beds. But, as they say, that’s a story for another day.

Posted in Travel on Sunday April 30, 2006.