Walking before I can run (a car)

Yesterday, the humidity was getting to me so I headed off on my trusty 13-year-old mountain bike to the electronic superstore down the road and bought two fans, as well as some lightbulbs and 100 coffee filters,  then tied them to the handlebars and saddle and wheeled my bike through the backstreets home. In the stifling humidity (I don't know how humid it was, but even thinking about doing anything that requires any movement at all drenches my brow in sweat) I felt like a Viet Cong foot soldier wheeling his Chinese-made supplies down the Ho Chi Minh trail.  We've lived in Japan now for over a year, and I think I can safely say that I don't miss owning a car. It wasn't an eco-conscious decision when we moved here, simply a lack of money that meant buying a car was way down the list of priorities (somewhere behind adding a veranda to the house and digging a wine cellar in the front garden). We've had to turn to public transport (which is no hardship in ultra-punctual Japan) and take advantage a lot more of pedal power. At first we had withdrawal symptoms. "My feet are hurting" was a constant refrain from the kids, but now the car is a distant memory of life in suburban Mickleover. Mind you, I wouldn't object to a quick air-conditioned spin up into the cool of the mountains right about now.