Contemplations of a Closet Curmudgeon

Slept very well to the sound of the river Daiwa and woke feeling ready to find my way to Tokyo. The Tobu Nikko runs a limited express line straight into Asakusa and I splurged a little for that. They don't call it first class, but that's basically what it was: quiet, and comfortable. Plus the scenery coming out of the mountains was worth staring out the window at.

The ryokan/hotel I picked was easy to find: straight out of the train station and down a shotengai that runs for three or four blocks, cross another big street, and hang a right, say 10 minutes or so from the Asakusa Tobu station. The man at the front desk looked a little like Ken Watanabe, cheerfully signed me in and accepted custody of my bags. I told him I had kabuki tickets but expected to be in before 10 PM to finish check in and he assured me that would be fine.

I walked a few blocks to pick up a bus to Ueno in hopes of killing a few hours at the Tokyo National Museum. Getting there means wending one's way from Ueno Station through the park of the same name, which houses other museums and a zoo, not unlike Central Park in New York. After the delicious cool of Nikko, I was back to gently marinading in my own perspiration, but it was a nice walk. The Museum is currently hosting a special exhibition of Imperial Treasures from the Shosoin Collection and I hoped to see that and maybe have time to stroll through the permanent collection, before heading to Ginza for the 4:30 kabuki performance.

With the time spent in line, this meant I had to rush through the exhibition. If it was an Important Document that I can't read, I skipped it. If it was a replica of the actual treasure in the case next to the real thing, I skipped it. That said, it was totally worth it to see so many of the extant textiles. Things I've seen in books and on the internet. Actually seeing them up close was pretty special, even with all the jostling shoulders.

I decided not to buy the exhibition catalogue. It was an inch and a half thick and had good pictures, but it's of things I can see online or in books I already have. One less thing to carry.

We were treated to three plays. https://www.kabuki21.com/kikubatake.php was first, then there was a 35 minute interval in which to enjoy one's bento or shop for souvenirs. I had a delicious little bento with rice, mackerel and pickled veg. (Outside the auditorium they had people taking the dinner trash away, I made time for a red bean ice cream sandwich before heading back to my seat. 

https://www.kabuki21.com/renjishi.php was a dance piece in three movements. The opening section featured some of the most breathtaking dance I have ever witnessed. The comic interlude was comic and I could follow it well enough even with my terrible Japanese. The final dance of the lions was the spectacular climax. 

I cannot find a great online summary of the third play, as it was written in the 1970s and does not appear to be part of the kabuki canon, so this is what was on the theater's website.

ICHIMATSUKOZO NO ONNA. This is a play written by Ikenami Shotaro in the late 1970s, set in the Edo period. The draper Juemon has two daughters: Ochiyo, by his deceased first wife, and Oyuki, by his second wife. Ochiyo is skilled in swordsmanship and Juemon intends to find a husband for her, but his second wife hopes that her own child Oyuki will inherit the business instead, and so husband and wife are at odds. Thinking that if she leaves her father will give up his idea, Ohiyo goes to live at the house of her former wet nurse. Here she meets a pickpocket called Matakichi with whom she becomes intimate. Her fellow swordsman Yogoro promises to mediate between then and Ochiyo's father. Two years later, the now married couple run a successful haberdashery. But when Ochiyo hears that matakichi has started pickpocketing again she... [Yes, it cuts off right there.]   Ochiyo, who has given up her mannish hakama for domestic bliss, well, she goes for a carving knife and tries to cut Matakichi's pickpocketing hand off, but loses her will to do so, for she still loves him.  As far as I can tell at this point, Matakichi repents, Yogoro promises not to take him away, and the play ends with Ochiyo weeping on her knees and thanking Amida Buddha for his mercy.

This last play was interesting. The makeup was more naturalistic and the acting, while stylized was less so than in  the first play, presumably because it was a modern work. 

Of the three plays presented, the second, Renjishi, was my favorite, because the dancing was so dazzling.

Performance over, it was time to find my way back to the ryokan and I was sent by way of a different subway stop from the Ginza. Google Maps not only did not get me turned in circles this time, it sent me past the place we stayed in 2014, which turned out to be quite close to where I was this time.

Slept very comfortably and a little later than usual as I had a late flight and nowhere I had to be for a few hours, then I checked out, hauled my things to the coin lockers at Asakusa station, and decided to explore Sensoji Temple and the surrounding neighborhood before heading to the airport.

I discovered that I had forgotten to charge the camera battery - so it was all cell phone photos for the final batch.

On a Saturday morning, even early, it was busy, and became even more so. Vendors in all directions leading to the temple, hawking food and souvenirs, tourists taking photos, worshipers burning incense and queueing to make offerings. And November or not, it was still pretty warm.

I stopped for a refreshing ice cream sandwich made with crispy lantern shaped wafers and red bean ice cream, then decided to explore the shotengai a little. I found a kimono seller that had some nice men's yukata obi, and I used the last of my folding cash to buy one. It'll make a nice fighting obi.

Finally, it was time to retrieve my luggage and take the subway to Haneda airport. Yes, I got there a bit early, but I'd found it was good policy to allow for backtracking, delays and getting turned around as a matter of principle. I checked the carry-on so I didn't have to drag it around, leaving me with the backpack. I found some decent yakisoba for lunch, and bought a box of tea flavored Kit Kats at the duty free, then started on this blog entry before boarding.

The flight was on time and relatively uneventful except for a crying baby three seats behind me. I found a three part TV documentary in which Sir Ranulf Fiennes and his cousin actor Joseph Fiennes explore Egypt together and watched that, then did some reading and tried to nap.

Got into SFO more or less on time, collected my bag, took BART to Oakland, then the 19 bus home.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/70104978@N00/albums/72157711593031656

Some final random thoughts on the trip

It may be 2019, but the Japanese still observe the seasons in their dress. It may be 80 degrees with 80 percent humidity, but the calendar says autumn and everyone wears their heavy sweaters or suit jackets!

Oakland, why U so dirty? I almost never saw litter. Even in the big cities, even though you have to hunt to find a place to get rid of your trash. Cleanliness is instilled in the Japanese from birth and it shows. That said, the vending machine culture means they generate an awful lot of plastic bottles. I hope their recycling programs are as vigorous.

My Japanese language skills remain abysmal. Part of that is my own nervousness about them. Part of that is that I was rarely in a situation where I was completely stuck. I was traveling in places that mostly get a lot of foreign tourists, my face proclaimed it, and that often meant that the Japanese on the other side of any transaction would jump in in English. I found I could get by with greetings and a few words, a lot of smiles and enthusiasm. That doesn't mean I don't wish I could have done better.

This itinerary was ambitious. I had a lot I wanted to see and do - and the second week had me moving somewhere new every day. I curtailed my shopping because I had to decide, "Do I want to carry that for the next ___ days?"  I realized early on that I could not fit in everything, so go see the one thing you absolutely must see in that place, and then see how much you can reasonably manage.

This was hard on me physically and mentally. I walked as much as possible because that allowed me to see and do more, but that meant I was footsore all the time. Wheels don't help when you have to get that suitcase down a flight of subway stairs and not miss your train. Squat toilets are the devil and thank God I only had to deal with two of them.

And I was alone, in places I didn't know my way around, with limited communications skills. I had to be "on" in front of strangers all the time. I had to be mindful of social niceties that are not my norm so as not to offend. For example, blowing one's nose in public is gross. Sniff it all into your head until you can get to the ladies room. While I'm reasonably used to being on my own at home, this was different.

All that said, I think I did ok. Because I planned carefully, I didn't overpack and I still had what I needed. I allowed myself time to get places. I allowed myself down time when I needed it. I met some lovely, amazing people. I saw and experienced new things. I got to know my new-to-me camera better.

Will I do it again? I don't know. I'd like to. Only time can tell.

Kamakura was the headquarters of the shogun's military government from the late 12th century until Tokugawa Ieyasu came to power around 1603. That's where I was headed as I boarded the train this morning. Yesterday's rain had been replaced with bright sunshine and I got very lucky glancing out a window on my train and spotted Mount Fuji, impressively big even though we were moving east of it.

Thank goodness for my travel apps, they make getting around the transit systems a lot easier. Hyperdia does the major train lines and Google Maps can pitch in on local transit. I alighted at Kamakura, slung things into a coin locker, and decided my must see (and therefore do first) was the Daibutsu of Kotoku-in. It didn't look like a bad walk, only a kilometer or two, and it was a gorgeous day. On my way through town I passed multiple groups of school children (including a group of pre-schoolers who were enjoying the massive echo in a tunnel underpass. I made a point of smiling and saying "Konnichiwa!" to each group I passed. I got a random assortment of responses ranging from too-wrapped-up-in-their-own-stuff, to them saying "Konnichiwa" or even "Hello." 

I am going to make a brief digression here, because my day ended up including three major figures of Japanese Buddhism that require introduction.

First, Amitabha Buddha, or Amida Butsu as he is known in Japan, is the principal figure in Pure Land Buddhism. One can be reborn into the Pure Land by repeating his name. (Click on the links to see more.)

Then there is Kannon (originally Guanyin in China), the gender fluid buddha of compassion, depicted and described both as a male or female.

Finally, we'll meet Jizo, a buddha who is a guardian of children.

The road between Kotoku-in and Hasedera was lined with cafes and souvenir shops, as befits a pilgrimage/tourist neighborhood. The Daibutsu (Great Buddha) has been a draw for visitors since the late 13th century and it is pretty impressive. For a small fee, one can even line up to go inside it - you'll see photos of the back of the statue showing windows out of the Buddha's back. (I gave that a pass.) 

I did discover that the hillsides around the temple were prime habitat for the local raptor species, the black kite. I attempted to catch some of them in my photos with limited success, because autofocus can't keep up with them and trying to track and manually focus with the 35mm lens was tricky. That I got anything at all is kind of amazing.

From Kotoku-in, I walked down to Hasedera, a temple devoted to Kannon since the 8th century. There are also hundreds of Jizo images and a side temple to him, representing prayers for deceased children. (In addition to more traditional representations of Jizo as a monk, he is sometimes represented as a cute, almost childlike figure himself.) Jizo is also a figure venerated for protection in childbirth and a patron of travelers. 

Hasedera's location gives it spectacular views of the beach at Enoshima and its gardens are lovely. I also visited their small museum of precious temple treasures - photography was permitted. (Yay!)

I decided to treat myself to a gelato on the way back down to the other side of town. It gave me a moment to sit and get my bearings. I was on my way to try to find the bus stop when I saw a sign just as a Japanese lady had stopped to look at it as well. It turns out Kamakura as a Noh theater and museum, so we walked up to check it out.

The doors were locked, but a lady came to the door, explained in Japanese and broken English that the museum consisted of some masks and fans, and we could come in and see the theater. It sounded disappointing, but she knocked herself out trying to explain Noh to me and I did my best to convey the bits with which I was familiar and meet her in the middle. It was wonderful, and she filled up a bag with pamphlets postcards and even a lavish color calendar all for me for free because I'd been interested. (I'm going to write to them when I get home to thank her.) 

Hopped a bus back to Kamakura Station, then walked up the shopping street that led to Tsurugaoka Hachimangu shrine. By the time I got there it was pretty late and it looked like they were ready to wrap things up for the evening, but it was beautiful and I made the climb up to the main shrine. (The light was lovely for photography too!)

Back down into town to look for dinner. I couldn't face trying to go into Tokyo too early, because it would be rush hour. I ended up finding a little place off the main shopping street and had a rice bowl with salmon, salmon roe, shirasu (tiny white fish)and tuna, a bowl of udon in broth, pickled and vinegared vegetables and a hot tea, for less than $12 US.

By the time I got on the train, things weren't too bad and I even managed to snag a seat. It's about 70 minutes from Kamakura to Shin-Nihonbashi where I had to get off and it really didn't get jammed until we hit Tokyo Station just before my last stop.

Tonight I am in a capsule hotel three blocks from the subway. For about $30 US, my shoes are being held hostage in a locker on the ground floor, for which I traded a locker key. Said locker included a mesh bag containing cotton pajamas that don't fit me and towels for the shower. My suitcase won't fit the locker, so it's standing in a corner in the hallway. All the valuable stuff will stay in the capsule with me for the night and I'm leaving early in the morning.

It seems my sleeping arrangements keep getting smaller and smaller, but the inn in Nikko should be nice, and this really isn't bad. Light to read and write by, comfortable, clean bedding, and outlet and USB port for charging things, and an alarm clock built into the wall. I wouldn't recommend this to anyone with claustrophobia, but it's comforbable enough. Now, you CAN hear everything around you because the only thing between me and the hallway is a rolldown curtain, but people are being fairly quiet and considerate.

Nikko's going to take a couple hours to get to in the morning, so I'd better wrap this up and get some sleep! 

 https://www.flickr.com/photos/70104978@N00/albums/72157711565695893

[Dreamwidth ate my first attempt at this post, so we're going to try again.)

Hinode Ryokan served my traditional Japanese breakfast promptly at 7:30 as ordered. The lady brought a fresh pot of green tea, then a tray of lovely things: salmon, rice, julienned carrot and lotus root (I think), vinegared shirasu (tiny whitebait fish), a dollop of creamy potato salad, two pieces of tamago (a sweet, thinly rolled omelette), pickled cucumber, daikon and ginger, a green salad with ham and tomato in sesame dressing, and a dark miso soup with tofu and green onion. I did the best I could, but could not finish the rice. 

My host presented me with a complimentary pen of the pre-printed business sort on check out. I ended up taking a later train because the early one was not covered by my JR Pass, and why blow money you don't have to. So, it was after eleven by the time I got to Nagoya, begged a cigarette vendor for 100y coins for the luggage locker, stowed my crap and hopped a local train down to Arimatsu.

If you have a nodding acquaintance with Japanese woodblock prints of the Edo period, you've heard of Hiroshige's '53 Stations of the Tokaido Road.' Well, Arimatsu was one of the little post towns during that period. The Tokaido was a major road linking Edo (now Tokyo) and the then capital, Kyoto. The stations were shogunate and provincially administered checkpoints through which travelers (mostly on foot) had to pass, and "rest stops" furnishing food, drink and lodging sprang up around them. Arimatsu, a bit south of Nagoya proper was on the Tokaido and was one of those places. It became well known for its brightly died shibori cloth in the early 17th century, and a portion of the townscape has been preserved. Basically it's one long street running parallel to the train tracks with buildings dating from the 17th and 18th century, some of which are local craftspeople selling shibori clothing and other items. Even the cigarette shop on the corner had shibori pieces for sale.

I found the Shibori museum, which consists of a ground floor shop and the exhibit itself on the second floor. For 300 yen you get a video about how shibori is done, how many specialized artisans are involved, pattern designers, shibori artists - each type of fabric manipulation, be it stitched, clamped, folded or any combination thereof may be the only thing done by one artist, but that artist will be a master of that style. Then the dyers and the people who take out all the threads, and the people who steam and set the final fabric. There's also great display of shibori tools, and gorgeous examples of how many patterns can be made by this process. The real treat for me, however, was the little old lady sitting just outside the display area, deftly wrapping thread around tiny dots of pre-marked cotton fabric. Between her almost nonexistent English and my mangled Japanglish, we were still able to communicate and she was more than happy to slow down and show me how her style of shibori was done.

The good news is that I did not break the bank on shopping. When all the clothing items are practically guaranteed to be too small, you go for a nice silk shibori tote bag and a cotton tenugui that will look just great as a scarf.

Arimatsu being nearly 30 minutes from downtown Nagoya, I got back later than expected and realized that with the castle closing at 4;30, there just wasn't going to be enough time to do it. So I got my stuff out of the train station locker, fired up Google Maps, and struggled to find my hostel because there were enough tall buildings in the neighborhood the GPS couldn't keep my with my phone's live position. I think I backtracked at least twice.

LeoStar Hostel is no Kyoto Hana. It's too slick and modern. I was greeted by two young women who probably would be at home fending off invaders with naginata, given a laminated room card with a floor map, what times check in and check out are, when things are open, what amenites were where, and I evidently cannot be trusted to put my own shoes away, because they were whisked onto a shelf matching my room number and I was issued slippers that would fit Shaquille O'Neill. I was also admonished not to eat or drink in my room because there's a too brightly lit cafe area in the lobby with relentlessly cheerful Jpop videos on a little too loudly. There is also, Buddha enlighten us, a throwing star corner (currently holding several bicycles when I passed just now).

My room locks with a combination pad, which means I have to take my glasses and the slip I wrote the combo on every time I go out. It's tiny and bare, with just enough room to walk in, dump bags in the corner and flop on a bed. The coat tree in the other corner a mere six feet away comes with one wooden hanger and a flashlight, because I'm three floors up in a country which has earthquakes. So, zero charm, but it's clean sheets and hot water and what the front desk warriors don't know about the bottle of water in my backpack won't kill anyone.

I have now written all this twice because Dreamwidth ate the first version. I did head out in search of food and found a loud, brightly lit,cheerful place about two blocks away with cheap, delicious seafood. I ordered an unfiltered sake, local crab with miso simmered in its own shell on a grill right in front of me at the bar, and a rice bowl with assorted sashimi and fresh wasabi.

Photos are up at https://www.flickr.com/photos/70104978@N00/albums/72157711532580023

On to Hakone tomorrow. It's supposed to be gorgeous there, but rain is predicted. Hopefully it won't be a washout. I want to see Mount Fuji!

Early train leaves Nagoya at 7:29 and gets me there a bit after 10.

Bade goodbye to Emiko-san and the gang at Kyoto Hana Hostel. (She was floored when I handed over a bag containing four packages of Jelly Bellies and a card for her and the rest of the staff, but tipping is just not done in Japan. Small gifts called omiyage, however, are and since it was my longest stay, I came prepared.) Not a bad way to spend a few days in the city: clean, simple amenities and a useful location within a couple blocks of the train station and bus stops.

I dumped my suitcase and backpack in a coin locker at Kyoto Station, then went to the nearby central post office with a shopping bag full of stuff I wanted to ship. I had to visit the counter three times because the explanations of what I had to do in terms of describing the contents and value of what was in the box had not been clear the first time. They wanted each thing itemized separately and I had a pretty random assortment in there. However, I finally got the shipping label sorted to the satisfaction of the lady at the desk on my third shot back in the line and hopefully my package will hit Alameda Central Post Office in a couple of weeks.

I had originally bought a ticket for reserved seating for Kyoto's Jidai Matsuri (Festival of the Eras) online, but they'd given me a back row in a reviewing stand at the middle of the route. This meant (a) I was likely to be stuck behind people who wanted to take pictures on tablets and (b) I might not get down to Nara early enough to hit the museum exhibition I wanted to attend. So I decided instead to take a loss on the ticket, catch the subway to the Imperial Palace, find a spot to stand and watch before noon, Then back onto the subway, grab my stuff out of the locker and take the train to Nara after.

For this to work, I needed to get there early enough to stake out a spot, and I was there some time after 10 AM. Attendees were already gathering, vendors were selling all sorts of souvenir sweets - the trade in edible gifts is huge in a country where people tend to live in small homes and apartments. Not surprisingly, the press area had the best spot, with the palace framed at the top of a gravel drive, but there was a nice stretch along the curve leading to the gate out to the street that was facing a row of trees, so I picked a spot behind some people who were already seated on polythene mats right next to the ropes and waited.

I took a few test shots and decided I would use the 55-200mm zoom. The sky was overcast, which I tend to like for photography because you don't get weird shadows or blown out images if it's too bright. (That said, I just spent an awful lot of time adjusting contrast on the photos I downloaded because the light level kept changing!)

I even managed to snag a few pre-parade shots of the equestrian participants heading for the staging area, and a couple of mounted police officers in pastel robes and kanmuri (court hats) who would be leading the marchers out into the city. People filled in around us quickly. Behind me were a group of young Japanese guys who looked like students, to my right was an old man in a bucket hat armed with a point and shoot camera, who was soon crowded in upon by a couple of Chinese girls, one of whom evidently was going to loudly live-blog the whole shindig while waving her selfie stick around in as many people's way as possible while shooting it with her cell phone. I was just trying not to step on the woman immediately in front of me or the one sitting one rank back reading a book. The Japanese are pretty inured to crowds and no personal space, but I'm not and I really didn't want to be That Tourist.

Even with the Chinese chick and bucket-hat man leaning out as the parade approached, I managed to take over 500 photos of the costumed figures representing 1000 years of Kyoto's (and Japan's) history. I also managed to ignore Selfie Stick Girl and her companion who finally got up from where she was sitting on the ground and banged her head into my arm in the process. Didn't even act like I was there, much less apologize.

Finally, it was time to follow the crowd out the palace gates and down into the subway and onto a packed train back to Kyoto Station. I grabbed a sandwich and water from a convenience store after collecting my bags and dashed for the Kintetsu train line to Nara.

Note: In addition to Japan Rail, there are other private companies running rail routes throughout the country. JR and Kintetsu both have service to Nara, and because I was heading to Ise on the Kintetsu line in the AM, I had selected a hostel near THAT train station.] I ended up on a slow local train instead of the faster Limited Express, but that gave me a chance to sit after standing for nearly four hours.

Takama Guest House was three blocks from the station and I arrived about 4:30 so I could check right in. The proprietor served me a cup of chilled tea as I filled out my registration and that was a nice touch on a humid day. I was in a tiny 4-bunk  female dorm this time, shared toilet and sink right outside, shower on the ground floor.

I took a bus to the Nara National Museum instead of trying to walk there - it's only about a kilometer, but I was already footsore enough. There was no wait for admittance, so going late on opening day of the exhibition worked out nicely, especially since they had extended hours.  I still had to queue to see things, but that's normal, and frankly,  there's something pretty nice about how much interest the Japanese have in their history.

Note: In 756 CE, the Emperor of Japan died. His Empress donated his favorite things to Todaiji Temple in Nara in a series of bequests beginning in the year he passed. Over 9000 objects and more than a millennia later, the Imperial Household and the Nara National Museum get together each year and decide which artifacts will be displayed to the public that fall. This year's exhibition included beautifully carved ivory rulers, furniture, fittings and beads from what survives of the "crowns" worn by the Emperor and Empress, a belt covered with lapis lazuli plates, ornate boxes, a set of beautiful paintings, furniture, documents, and other artifacts. Well worth seeing, and I'm glad I could fit it in.

On the off chance that it might be lit up, I figured I'd walk up to Todaiji. It was not - I jumped about a foot when one of the sika deer who roam loose through parts of the area let out this noise. Even realizing what it was, it's unnerving on a dark street.

I was tired enough that a walk around the neighborhood near the train station left me unable to decide where I wanted to eat. I grabbed another convenience store sandwich and ate it at the hostel.

There are two French women in the room with me. One of them has finally shut up and gone to brush her teeth, so maybe sleep will happen.

I took some Advil. Tomorrow's Ise. The train takes a little under two hours, and again, I'm staying someplace near the train station, so getting around shouldn't be crazy if I pace myself.

www.flickr.com/photos/70104978@N00/albums/72157711508234763

Rain was predicted for today and I'd heard it during the night, but it wasn't doing anything when I went out. Got breakfast at KohiKan again. This time I decided to try a hotcake. It was like eating a pillow. Perfectly browned on each side, 3/4" thick and fluffy on the inside, served with a pat of butter, a scoop of whipped cream and syrup. Thank God I didn't order the stack of two. Tasty, tasty pillow. It's like the white bread here. Hey, there's this food the Westerners do and it's good, but how can we make it better? Like that.

I forgot to mention in yesterday's entry that I was sitting near the dock where they do river tours of Osaka working on my hydration, when four Men Of A Certain Age and Type rounded the corner. The accents would've been a dead giveaway without the All Blacks jersey the oldest guy was wearing or the one guy's Maori sleeve tattoos.  We chatted for a few, I said, "I take it you're here for the [Rugby] World Cup." The one said, "We're taking it back," with a laugh. They were nice, and funny, and I wished them luck. Since then, I'm seeing lots of people in gear that says they're fans, or possibly even with teams - and there seemed to be an awful lot of them on the train this morning.

I had to transfer trains in Osaka to get to Himeji and the Osaka-to-Himeji leg was standing room only in the cars which didn't require reserved seats. I managed to snag the last seat in the car next to an elderly Japanese lady, but a friend of hers got on at another stop and I had to be very insistent that she take the seat next to her friend. Not that bad - the trains are so smooth, even decellerating.

Himeji Station faces the castle down a main road. You can't possibly get lost and the maps say it's a whopping 1.3km (about .8 of a mile), so I headed there in my crappy packable rain jacket (which turned out to get me completely soaked across shoulders and arms and the hood is pretty useless).

I spotted an antique shop that was just opening its doors and hesitantly poked my nose in for a look. The proprietor had very little English. I'd barely had a chance to look around when four school kids spotted me and it was "Can We Practice Our English" Time. I think it may be SOP that when Japanese children go on field trips to places where they're likely to run into tourists, they're supposed to "interview" a native English speaker. It's happened twice this trip now - remember the girls at Sanjusangendo - and it goes like this: one or more students asks in hesitant, polite and sometimes definitely ragged English if you will answer their questions - and proffers a notebook with three or four questions for you to write answers to. It's usually, "How do you like Japan?" "What are you doing today?" Simple stuff. So I print my answers neatly because I know they're going to have to figure out what it means as part of their assignment. It usually ends with pictures and everyone throwing peace signs or making hearts with their hands.

I was a bit damp by the time I got to the entrance to the castle. I have to say Himeji is as beautiful as they say, even on a grey, wet day - and a lot more the sort of castle experience than Osaka. After wending your way up sloping approaches and into the main building, we were instructed to take off our shoes and carry them with us in plastic bags. This means continuing your ascent up several steep, dimly lit stairways in your stocking feet "like a samurai." If you consider that the average Japanese in 1600 or so was probably my height (5'6") or shorter, the rise on those stairs was HIGH. Those people must have had legs of steel.  Each level had racks for bows built into the walls, each set of windows had a raised platform directly under them. (I am kind of amazed that I had as many good interior photos as I did - the light was extremely challenging.) 

The top of the tower contains a small Shrine, which I saw a number of the school kids stop to do reverence. The views were about what you'd expect from that height, even in the rain, but due to the potential for tourist logjams, a guard was there to herd people through before it got bad.

Down was somewhat harder than up - I had to take the stairs slightly sideways - and you have to duck frequently to get down below the ceiling of the level you're descending to.

On the downward trip, there are cases with some of the older roof tile decorations from previous restoration efforts, and a large model which shows the timber structure of the castle, which was used during a restoration. The castle suffered bombing in 1945, but restoration efforts continue (one side was under scaffolding for current work).

After you exit the keep into the rain, you can circle a section of ramparts and pass the legendary Okiku's well. I've told a variant of this famous ghost story in SCA settings, so I treated it as I would a Shinto shrine, tossed a coin in, said, "Nine, my sister," and made gassho. One does not mess with Japanese ghosts.

Soggy and thoroughly disgusted with my leaky rain jacket, I stopped at one of the souvenir stands long enough to grab a bottled water and drink it under an overhanging roof, then started back down towards the train station. Nothing was quite interesting me enough to go in for lunch, though I was considering finding some place to get coffee or tea or something. I saw a covered shopping arcade and went down it, then discovered that it included a cross street that went all the way down to the block the train station was on, so I could get my stupid hood out of my eyes and walk where it was dry.

I checked the train schedule and had enough time to grab a roast beef sandwich from the 7/11 in the station and eat it on the platform before my train left. 7/11's roast beef on white was made with horseradish and soy sauce - good rare roast beef and more of that better-than-it-has-a-right-to-be crustless white bread.

Train ride back was swift and uneventful and I hit Kyoto about 3pm to find it raining steadily. Instead of trying to go someplace that would involve more getting wet, I decided that the complex that is Kyoto Station was worth exploring. The architecture is kind of interesting, so I could kill some time taking pictures and walking around the upper levels. Also, there's all kinds of shopping and dining in and around the station complex. The ten-story Isetan department store has a level devoted to "Japanese goods." These ranged from some very high end, gorgeous crafts to more souvenir-ish items like carved kanji charms and ocarinas. There was a lady with some gorgeous kasuri pieces and she was trying to convince me how comfortable all-cotton would be and I could see that none of it would fit me....

I started thinking I might actually want a proper dinner tonight and began exploring the upper "Eat Paradise" levels. And then I saw that "Ramen Street" was one level down, so I had to go check that out. After circling the "block" and looking at signboards, I settled on Hakata Ikkousha, mainly because they had black garlic oil ramen. I bought my ticket at the machine with help from a cheerful young man who took my ticket to the kitchen, showed me to a spot at a counter with a glass of water ready and served me a Coke. A bowl of steaming ramen floating in inky, rich broth appeared almost as fast. After a day in the rain, it was soooo good and I finished the noodles, boiled egg, four pieces of pork, pickles and onions and only left a little broth when I finally stood up. The lusty cheers of "Arigato Gozaimasu!" from the kitchen accompanied my exit.

It's supposed to rain in the morning tomorrow and then clear. I need to figure out what I want to do. I was hoping to do the Kitano Tenmangu flea market in the morning. We'll see what it's doing at that point. At least the hostel has loaner umbrellas.

Hostel to Sanjusangendo Temple 1.2 km.
Kyoto National Museum (across the street) to Kiyomizudera 1.8 km (uphill much of the way).
Kiyomizudera to Kongoji (monkey temple) 1 km.
Kongoji to Shorenin 1.4km
Shorenin to Kyoto Crafts Centre  1.7 km
Kyoto Handicrafts Centre to Higashiyama Station 1 km.

Total walked 8.1 km = 5.033 miles. Does not count subway stairs or the last three blocks from Kyoto Station to the hostel.

Woke up, grabbed a shower and walked across the street to grab a carton of apple/orange juice and an egg salad sandwich from the Lawson's. It had rained overnight and was considerably cooler OUTSIDE the hostel, so I sat on the bench out next to the umbrella rack and found out what Anthony Bourdain had raved about. The egg salad was just eggs and mayo, I didn't taste any salt or other seasoning. The bread had the crusts cut off, and it was white and spongy and I got a hint of subtle sweetness out of each bite. I could see it being 3 am drunk food, but it made a perfectly lovely, easy, inexpensive breakfast that didn't test my stomach capacity.

The weather report had been predicting rain, though it looked like it was clearing. After struggling with Google Maps the previous day, I tried an app called MapsMe, which can't seem to play nice with my phone GPS-wise, but if I plug in a starting location and destination, gives up a decent map. Anyway, it was a straight shot due east to the Kyoto National Museum and I wanted to see the "Thirty Six Immortal Poets" exhibition, so off I went, stupidly early because I didn't trust the map and also because I remembered that Sanjusangendo was nearby and I figured I could make a pass through there while I waited for the museum to open.

I seemed to be on the streets with a lot of students headed to school, but it wasn't a bad walk, though pretty humid. The uniformed parking lot attendants where on hand to direct me where I should walk to enter, I paid my entrance and was waved to an area in front of the hall to remove my shoes and put them on a shelf. No photography is permitted inside and frankly I don't know how I'd begin to do justice to the golden ranks of over a thousand different statues of Kannon-bosatsu.

It was early enough that it was reasonably quiet and I stood listening to the chanting of the monk before the Buddha for awhile and made an offering so I could light a candle. Lighting candles was a Mom thing, so I did it. I wandered the gardens a bit and was taking some pictures when I was accosted by three Japanese girls in school uniforms who wanted me to sign their books and let them practice their English. We got a couple photos with one of the girls' cameras and I asked their teacher to take a couple with mine - and when I got home to download, they weren't on here, so I don't know what happened. (Pretty disappointed, they were sweet kids.)

Crossed the street to take in a museum exhibition that was pretty packed for first thing in the morning on a week day, mostly with Japanese. They sent us up to the third floor and we worked our way down from there. The third floor made me feel like a complete illiterate, because it was all poetry texts, either as mounted fragments or on scrolls. Some of the papers were beautifully decorated, and I did look at everything as best I could because it was fairly crowded, as mentioned.  There were several paintings of Kakinomoto no Hitomaro, the "patron saint" of poetry, which were interesting. You could see who was copying previous works, and there were a few depicting him in poses that said, "Stand back, I'ma make a poem." As you work your way downstairs, you are presented with the paintings from the 13th c. Satake manuscript, which was cut up and sold off to collectors in 1919 (!!!!) In addition to the lovely Ono no Kamachi, I got to "meet" Sei Shonagon's father and Murasaki Shikibu's grandfather. There were some amazing picture scrolls from the period as well! The exhibition ends with some Edo period representations of the 36 Immortals, including a painting by Suzuki Kiitsu which looks like quite a party.

Faced with a 2 inch thick museum catalog I was going to have to haul along with the camera and the rain jacket and the wallet full of Japanese coins, I decided not to buy it - I think I can order it online and get it shipped instead. I did buy a museum tote bag (which came in handy) and a couple of fude pens and things.

As l left via the museum gates, the guard insisted on using my camera to get pictures of me standing in front of the Western looking Meiji era pile (which is currently closed for renovations). (Looked at them later, I look sweaty and disheveled, so they aren't getting shared.) Sweet of him to try though. He meant well.

I pulled out my cell phone for a "where am I?" check and figured I could get to Kiyomizudera from where I was pretty easily. I forgot one thing, it's a zoo. I got to one intersection and there was a swarm of young people, a lot of them in rented kimono. Oh, and the approach is uphill. You'll see how crowded it was in the photos, trust me.

I found a little place on the way up, ordered a plate of curry rice and a Coke and managed to eat a decent amount of it. The place was deserted when I went in, but people started coming in while I was sitting there (two of whom sat down at the table next to mine and lit cigarettes - we're so not in California). I continued my slog uphill through crowds of tourists, past an endless variety of sweet shops and ceramic sellers - the street is named Chawan-zaka or Tea Bowl Path. I went up to the top of the stairs just below the shrine entrance and since I'd been there on my last visit and it was teeming, I decided to take one of the other paths downhill. More souvenir shops, more sweets, pickles, and the odd shop selling Buddhist statuary and prayer beads.

I'd read about a shrine called Kongoji somewhere in the neighborhood and successfully found it using the MapsMe app again. It was again packed with girls in kimono and there was no way I was going to get in line for a monkey ball votive, but I did make an offering from my monkeys to theirs at the shrine. I saw a sign pointing the way to Yasaka Jinja shrine in Gion and I was pretty sure if I could get there, I could find my way to the neighborhood we'd stayed in in 2014. So I got a slightly different view of Gion coming from the direction I did. I sat down on the edge of a stone wall to catch my breath and even though I was footsore, I thought I could go further.

Through lovely Maruyama Park, past the massive Chionin, and quiet Shorenin and there I was on Sanjo-dori again! I did kind of want to find the Kyoto Handicraft Centre again - last time, I'd bought some inlaid pendants as gifts for my sisters and Mom and I have been kicking myself that I didn't get something for myself. I cut down a back street until I hit the canal, then paralleled it straight into the Handicraft Centre with no problems. It's a weird place. They have show rooms on two floors in one building and another in the building next door, plus they do classes. I selected a pair of inlay earrings with a gingko leaf design. I ended up buying a tenugui towel and a hand fan in the other building - if it stays like it was today, I want a fan.

Then it was back to the subway station on Sanjo-dori and back here by mass transit.

Not hungry for dinner, but I am drinking plenty of water, so not too worried about it.

Tomorrow, Osaka!

Photos are at: https://www.flickr.com/photos/70104978@N00/albums/72157711448976993

Haneda Airport was a sweatbox. Picked up my wifi hotspot (which is cheerfully humming on the charger as I type this) with no problems. Stuck in an endless hellish line of tourists waiting to trade vouchers for actual train passes and when I finally got to the head of the line, we discovered that JapanRail had mailed me a voucher that had expired two days ago, which boggles the mind since I had to furnish use dates to order it in the first place. So, it being a Sunday, I could not get it fixed there and had to plunk down the equivalent of $140 for a bullet train ticket to Kyoto and I will have to try to straighten it out at the JR station in Kyoto later today.

Train ride was uneventful but it was WELL after dark when I arrived at Kyoto Station - and I came out the wrong side and Google Maps took me for an urban hike with rolly suitcase before I finally found the hostel. Fortunately Kotaro, the young man on the desk, speaks excellent English and got me settled in. Dinner was a bottle of lemon soda from the vending machine out front simply because I just wasn't hungry - and no point in eating if I'm not.  I got a well enjoyed shower, and managed to sleep reasonably well in my curtained off top bunk.

Other hostel guests have been polite but keeping to themselves and not sure if that's just the mix of who's here or not, but it's what it is and frankly, I was exhausted.

It's a little too early to go out, so I will do a little reading and check email, then off to the temple for my calligraphy thing. I figure I'll hit the JR office and fight with them afterward. I really hope they can just trade me a new voucher - that was a lot of money for something I can't use otherwise.

More tomorrow.