As I walked towards my bicycle and noticed the rain cover of my front bag missing and the front bag's zipper wide open, I remembered what the ice climbing guy told us a few months ago: "there's always something at the end of the trip that will come and bite you in the ass just when you think you're safe".
My bike tool got stolen. For some reason the thief opened my front bike bag, took the bag's rain cover and the bike tool that I had forgotten inside, but left my lights and the pump, which were surely worth more than an old rusty bike tool. Nevertheless, not having a bike tool means that I cannot take my bike apart, and that means that I can't take it on the plane tomorrow. CRISIS.
The first order of business in these kind of situations is always to get incredibly mad and angry and frustrated. I actually only realized that the bike tool was missing after a short cycle to a restaurant. Before realizing that I was merely slightly annoyed that on the very last day of my trip someone would steal something from me, but when I realized that it was in fact one of the most important things that I brought with me, I just got really really mad. Uselessly mad, I might add. As I'm typing this I'm still mad, but I have nowhere to direct it to except myself. I'm all ready to blame a population group or nationality in a blind fit of rage-ism, but fact is that I have no idea who did it. It's easy to point the blame at the foreigners, who are so incredibly superfluous in Narita compared to every other town in Japan, or to the homeless guy that I noticed in the afternoon, sleeping not too far from the parking lot from where my bicycle was standing, or the Japanese school children, who were always hanging out at the bus stop in front of the parking lot. Failing evidence I have no one else to blame but me, for leaving it in there in the first place. I'm angry at everyone, I blame myself and I'm disappointed in Japan for not being more safe. It's ridiculous, I know.
It was evening already, not a bike shop nearby, and even if there was it would have closed already. I'd have to leave too early in the morning so there was no way I could buy a new tool and get to the airport in time. Then I remembered: I brought a small spare bike tool! I always kept it in my backpack during the beginning of the trip but after a while it somehow got misplaced and I had no idea where it went. I turned my backpack and two of my panniers inside-out and didn't find anything, but finally I looked inside one of the pannier's side zippers and discovered it. I immediately ran to my bicycle to confirm that the bike tool does indeed fit on all the bolts, and it does! Crisis averted, but only barely. I took off the bike carrier bag and took it with me to my hotel. It's sad but I'm in full paranoia mode again. The time of trust is over. Perhaps it's all too well that I'm remembering this lesson now and not in London, where the consequences would be worse.
I really don't understand thieves. I just don't get what mindset a person has to be in to make it acceptable to claim someone else's thing as their own. Severe punishment is required for this kind of thing. Too bad the law doesn't allow it.