The Frisians

We found a hostel on the outskirts of Kyoto called Green Peace, which had nothing to do with the Rainbow Warrior, only a peaceful green area. Chikako ran the house and she was out of the norm for a Japanese female, as she was apparently independent. She had worked at the Japanese Okra Hotel in Amsterdam and also spoke Dutch.

We had a room with four beds to ourselves and in the other room were a couple who were living there on a long term basis.The man was a tall Frisian from the Northern Province of the Netherlands and worked in Japan translating manuals for Sony. In other words, he translated already translated manuals from German to Dutch. That is the reason one can never understand these guides.

A Frisian girl lived with him and they came to Japan together. The Frisian asked us if we could take the girlfriend with us on a cycling trip as he had a very busy work schedule.

We planned a trip for the next day and was delighted that she joined us. After half-a-dozen temples and the temperature rising to the mid-30s, she suggested that we go swimming. There was a dam, not far from the hostel, that had a spill-off and formed a swimming hole among large boulders.

After changing into our bathing suits, we cycled to the swimming hole. As I leant my bike again a tree, I looked down below and spotted the large boulders. Also visible was the Frisian spread out on the surface with his arm wrapped around an American girl.

A Frisian confrontation followed and after a swim, we returned to the hostel. The following day the girlfriend was visibly upset and was contemplating returning to the Netherlands. Now, one would think that this is the end of this story, but it wasn’t.

Unaware, our lives crossed again in the Caribbean eight years ago, as I was crewing on his boat. He was much older, less attractive and fewer broken hearts in his wake.

But a Frisian never change his spots.