Baji Zhandao Kung-Fu

Weekend well spent.

Another Ninjutsu seminar with Kacem in London Hounslow — and the feeling never gets old.

Ten years on from my first seminar, the excitement is still there. Still making a few of the same mistakes too… just hopefully with better structure and awareness.

There’s something satisfying about reaching the stage where a simple “not bad” from your teacher actually means something. No hype. Just honest progress.

What I value most is the sense of tribe — training together, swapping stories from Japan, remembering Ishizuka Sensei and Takamatsu, and feeling that the ninja spirit is still alive in 2026, even as a new generation steps in.

A great way to close out January. Less about belts these days — more about showing up and remembering that the training itself is the reward.

Grateful. Aches and pains included.

Earlier this year I was fortunate enough to travel to Taiwan — a genuine once-in-a-lifetime opportunity — to meet Master Ji, an outstanding Bajiquan master.

It was deeply meaningful to experience his interpretation of the art, especially in contrast to what we learned from our former Grandmaster Chen. Where Grandmaster Chen’s approach carried immense power and presence, Master Ji’s style was strikingly academic: precise, methodical, and exceptionally refined. Every movement was intentional. Every correction thoughtful.

What stood out most, though, was his generosity. We were the first foreigners ever welcomed into his school, invited to meet his students, exchange stories, and train together — navigating language barriers between Westerners and Mandarin speakers with mutual respect, laughter, and shared understanding through the art itself. Martial arts, at its best, really is a universal language.

Returning home, reality reasserted itself rather sharply. An ankle injury forced me to slow down and respect recovery, alongside a number of other personal challenges. It’s been a humbling and, at times, frustrating road back. But it also reminded me why I chose this path 15 years ago when I first committed myself to martial arts — not just for physical ability, but for resilience, perspective, and character.

That journey carried me through the injury, the setbacks, and the quieter lessons that only time can teach. I feel wiser for it — not just for myself, but for my students as well.

I’ve now returned to teaching, with renewed appreciation for patience, fundamentals, and the long game. Looking back, 2025 was very much a year of learning. I intend to carry those lessons forward with fresh energy into 2026.

Wishing everyone a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year when it comes.

🌀 The Illusion of “Advanced” – What I Learned from Training with Kacem Zoughari

Everyone’s looking for that secret move.
The hidden technique.
The “one weird trick” that wins a fight.

But after three days with Kacem Zoughari at last weekend’s Ninjutsu seminar, one truth hit me hard:

There are no secrets.

What’s advanced… is just the basics done properly.

We’re talking Sanshin (foundational movement) and Kihon Happō (the eight basic techniques)—practised with real awareness, under pressure, and in constantly changing conditions.

That means:

Training them both left and right side

Applying them against different weapons

Pressure testing them in motion, not in static poses

Reflecting on them outside class

And repeating, failing, refining, and rediscovering them… again and again.

Kacem also drew a sharp line between training and practice:

👉 Training is showing up to class.
👉 Practice is what you do beyond that—when you obsess over details, question your habits, and push yourself mentally and physically.

It’s not sexy.
It’s not flashy.
But in a real situation?
It’s those basics that will keep you standing.

🥋 If you’re curious to try out Ninjutsu for yourself in London, check out:
👉 https://ninjutsulondon.com