For over a year, residents of Beeston in Nottinghamshire, England, have been tormented by a truly baffling mystery.
On the second day of every month, a plate of 15-20 peeled bananas—sometimes drizzled with honey—appears across the street from a church on the corner of Abbey Road and Wensor Avenue. No one knows why. No one knows who. And no one has ever seen it happen.
Local resident Claire Fenwick has grown accustomed to the phenomenon. “My friend will message me to say, ‘oh, the bananas are back today,’” she told The Guardian.
Others, however, are far less amused. Josh Trentham described the ritual to the Daily Mail as “very annoying,” while Jill Dowling went a step further, calling it “so strange and disgusting.” Some neighbors even told the Mail that they are “freaked out” enough to have reported it to the police.
Many theories have been tossed around. Some believe it’s a religious offering, citing Hindu traditions where bananas symbolize abundance and good fortune, while honey represents nourishment.
Others think it’s a well-meaning but ineffective attempt to feed the local wildlife—though as 81-year-old Janet Hutchison pointed out, “The bananas are clearly just bought, and the wildlife doesn’t touch them.”
Instead, they sit there, slowly rotting, until someone inevitably gives up and tosses them in a hedge.
Enter local hero Clare Short, a volunteer litter-picker who decided enough was enough. In December she put up a polite but firm sign: “Please, respectfully, no more bananas! The uncollected plates and rotting bananas leave such a mess!”
The town collectively held its breath… and then, on Jan. 2, the bananas reappeared.
Clare, unwilling to escalate a full-scale fruit feud, removed the sign. She told The Guardian that it must be a “special thing” for whoever left them and she “wished them well” before adding, “but if they could come back and clean up the mess a few days later that would be lovely.”
So, the bananas remain, a symbol of either devotion, defiance, or deeply misunderstood performance art. One thing’s for sure— Beeston will never look at bananas the same way again.
Sax and the City
A mysterious “samurai” has been roaming the streets of Nagoya, Japan, armed not with a sword but with a saxophone.
Dressed in a traditional kimono with a woven straw hat obscuring his face, the so-called “Sax Samurai” delivers soulful melodies instead of slicing enemies in half.
Over the past four years, the Sax Samurai has turned into an unexpected tourist attraction. Crowds quickly form around him, enchanted by the bizarre yet oddly compelling sight of a lone, faceless samurai playing smooth jazz on busy city streets.
Behind the mysterious persona is a mild-mannered, 40-something Nagoya resident who leads a double life. By day, he works a regular job. By night, he transforms into the masked jazz vigilante no one knew they needed.
He told the local Mainichi newspaper that his musical journey began in middle school when he was struck by the divine revelation that was American saxophone legend Kenny G. But his early performances as an ordinary street musician were met with deafening silence.
“No one stopped to listen,” he said, “and I felt on the verge of losing heart.” Turns out, people commuting home from work aren’t that into random sax solos from a dude in business casual.
Salvation came when a teary-eyed woman told him his music brought her comfort during a tough time. It was then that he realized, “My music can provide comfort to someone.”
Then inspiration struck during the COVID-19 pandemic, when he needed a way to cover his face. The moment he combined the hat and kimono with his delicate sax playing, the internet collectively lost its mind.
Now, with over 100,000 social media followers, people line up for photos and autographs as if he’s a celebrity instead of a guy covering Japanese pop classics in full feudal-era cosplay.
He even performs through Nagoya’s unforgiving summers, because, in his words, “Knowing there are people waiting for me keeps me going.”
His dream? “I’d love to be featured in guidebooks someday.” At this rate, he might just get his own action figure. RB
