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I'm in Kyoto now, a day early, at the wonderfully stylish Miyako. Had a great time in Minakami. More later!

Pictures from Minakami here and Kyoto here.

And here, for your enjoyment, is a picture of a Japanese-style toilet, which is basically a hole in the floor:

(Catching up.)

I awoke early this morning with an aching leg. I slept very well--about 10 hours--on my big squishy pile of futons. My knee is a bit swollen and I don't yet have full range of motion in that joint, so I got into my knee brace and am still wearing it.

Hisako made a delicious breakfast and then generously drove me the 45 minutes to Jomo Kogen station where I was to catch the train. We chatted the whole way. I complimented her on her wonderful hospitality, beautiful chalet and delicious meals.

"When I was talking to you on email I saw your website", she said. "You must miss your dogs."

I said that I did. "You knew what I looked like before I arrived, then?" I asked.

"Yes", she replied. "You are very beautiful. That is what I thought."

Telling me that I am beautiful is at the top of the list of how to make my day.

I asked her where she learned to cook. She said she had learned from a chef and from books, but that she did not know how to cook Western food. "I am sorry you are leaving today", she said. "All of the other guests are gone and I wanted you to teach me how to make Canadian food". At that point, I, too, regretted leaving early: I think it would have been fun to cook together. Another time, for sure.

The train to Tokyo took about 90 minutes. I changed at Tokyo station for the train to Kyoto, directed by a very kind policeman who walked me to the gate to the Shinkansen tracks after I asked him for help. He bowed, I bowed. I climbed on the train and engaged with my iPod, where I finished up the audio book version of Bill Clinton's My Life. The conductor walked through the train car after each stop, making sure that the people on board had the proper reserved ticket. As he walked through the door at the end of the car to move on to the next one, he would turn to the car and bow. Again with the bowing.

A list of the number of times I have bowed today:

1. When Hisako brought my breakfast
2. When Hisako brought me coffee
3. While on the phone to the Miyako Kyoto, confirming that I could arrive a day early. Who bows to someone while you're on the phone with them??
4. When I paid my bill at La Neige
5. When Hisako dropped me off at the station and said goodbye
6. When I got to Tokyo and the police officer showed me where to catch the train to Kyoto
7. When the guy came through the train and stamped my ticket
8. After saying hello to the Miyako concierge at the Kyoto station
9. Repeated bows while many women in kimonos disembarked from a bus in front of Kyoto station and walked past me
10. When the driver for the Miyako shuttle bus arrived and took my luggage
11. When I got off of the bus at the Miyako and the porter took my bags
12. When the porter handed my bags to another porter
13. When that porter handed my bags to a third porter
14. When the person told me which hotel front desk staff would check me in
15. When the front desk person gave me my key
16. When the porter took my key and my luggage
17. When the porter left my room after dropping off my luggage
18. When the room service person left my meal

Not bad, given that I am gaijin, it's only 5pm, and I have no idea what the bowing etiquette actually is. The act seriously is contagious. I'll probably still be bowing when I get back to Canada, so I'm warning my friends and cow-orkers in advance that you are well within your rights to make fun of me if I can't kick the habit before I arrive.

I was awake and ambulatory around 5:15am today after crashing around 10pm, indicating that I'm now pretty much on the same local schedule as I am in Toronto. I've just enjoyed the complimentary buffet breakfast downstairs (I'll try the Japanese set breakfast tomorrow) and am getting ready to go walkabout in Kyoto for the day. I have a better range of motion in my injured knee this morning after resting and icing it yesterday. I'll see how much walking I can get in, but I'm not going to push it because I don't want to spend the rest of my vacation laid up in bed because I wasn't willing to take it easy when necessary.

I can tell already that Kyoto is not the same sort of city as Tokyo. It's... older, more organic, in the way that, say, Barcelona compares to Berlin. There are lots of narrow little winding streets lined with shops, and every other building is a wooden structure that looks like it came straight out of a movie about feudal Japan. There are something like 2000 temples and shrines within Kyoto itself, a city of about 1.5 million people. At the same time, it seems to be better organized: Kyoto at least has road signs, whereas I am not sure that Tokyo even bothers naming their roads.

Nobody knows how to get around in Tokyo, even people who live there, and the addresses are a complete nightmare: they divide the Ku (wards) into different Chome (sections), and then the street address (without the street, mind you) has three numbers. The first is the chome, the second is the subsection of the chome, and the third is the building. Which you'd expect to be numbered sequentially, like it is in North America and Europe, but no: it's the order in which the building was built. For example, the address of the Miyako where I was staying was 1-1-50 Shirokanedai, Tokyo, meaning that it was 1-chome, subsection 1, and in the building arbitrarily numbered 50. If I were a postal carrier in Tokyo I think I would just kill myself.

Anyway, there's your little Tokyo digression for the day. Off to see this ancient capital. Back later with pictures and stories!

Schoolchildren in Kyoto

It's now pissing down rain, but I have just returned from a morning of walking around Kyoto. I spent most of the time in Higashiyama-ku, a neighbourhood on the eastern side of Kyoto adjacent to Maruyama Park. I have seen many beautiful cities in my travels, but after this morning I have to say that Kyoto ranks among the most beautiful of all. That might be my predilection for Japanese architecture talking, but the narrow cobbled streets of Higashiyama-ku are lined with temples and shops in traditionally styled buildings. The effect is really quite magical.

Kyoto, like Tokyo, has different transit lines run by different companies. The guidebook doesn't mention this at all, so I bought a handful of subway tickets with the intention of going to Shichijo station. I discovered--after repeatedly feeding my subway tickets into the machine and having my overtures ignominiously spurned by the computer--that those tickets don't work on the Keihan line, which is apparently a rail line, not a subway. Most signs, of course, are in Japanese, so I simply stood in Sanjo station staring bemusedly at the signs in the hope that they would spontaneously translate themselves to English and guide my way. Nope. Eventually, after a last-ditch gesticulatory conversation with a white-gloved attendant, I figured out that I needed to buy a new ticket and managed to find the right train.

Rengeoin Temple

Next I stopped at the Kyoto National Museum and saw what they had to offer. It was opened to create a place to house artifacts gathered from across Japan and China that might have otherwise been lost or dispersed. I then walked along Gojo-zaka, a windy street leading uphill to Kiyomizu Temple, which was easily the highlight of the walk.

A stroll through Kiyomizu

I retraced my stroll along Gojo-zaka, eventually turning off and walking down Sannanzaka. I'd planned on seeing a couple more temples but they were closed, so I continued to wander until the overcast sky started dumping buckets of water on me.

I'm going to hang out in the hotel until the weather either chills out or I decide to grab a taxi somewhere interesting.

I have just returned from Junsei, a vegetarian restaurant just down from Nanzenji temple. It was a many-course kaiseki meal with tofu in every dish except the sashimi. The restaurant consisted of a few different buildings spread across an open grounds run through with a garden. The building to which I was escorted was a tatami-style room with antique pieces on the wall, so I followed the tatami practice, removed my shoes and went inside. A kimono-clad server showed my to my low table and served me a cup of green tea, then they piled my table high with tofu dish after tofu dish, small servings of very tasty soybean curd presented in wonderful kaiseki style, and it has inspired me to figure out more interesting stuff to do with tofu when I get back to Toronto.

After dinner I walked around their garden and then took a stroll through Kyoto again. A light drizzle had started, but I didn't care because that just made the whole experience even more romantic. Lenore observed that I love every place I go, but I'm rapidly coming to the conclusion that Kyoto is my favourite city on earth. It has some ugly modern parts, for sure, but much of eastern Kyoto is....

I could go on, but you just have to see it for yourself to understand how gorgeous it is. I think that Lisa can vouch for me on this.

I dropped my laundry off with the hotel this morning. When I returned to my room just now I found my clean, pressed clothes neatly folded on my bed. Including my thong underwear. I know that it's different because I live alone, but I'm not used to having other people do my laundry, much less fold and press my underwear.

(This is mostly for the benefit of Brad and Paul.)

I'm up! And still struggling with the horrible nightmare that I'd dropped and broken my 28-200mm zoom lens, which I haven't used at all on this trip, and anyway I have my 18-55mm and my 50mm prime lenses so it wouldn't have been a huge deal. See? Even in the face of imagined adversity, I'm positive.

I did dash to my camera bag just to make sure my baby was fine, though. :)

I was seated on the tatami in Mier-do at Eikando for no good reason other than time to contemplate my navel when I saw a young monk wearing a black robe enter the shrine area and begin lighting candles and incense. He looked briefly at me but did not acknowledge me, and I continued to sit there cross-legged and watch him. He was quite methodical in his work and did not stray from it.

After several minutes another monk, this one in green, entered from the front, leading two older straight couples. He allowed them to pass through the gate and set out stools for them. I continued to watch silently as he explained and demonstrated to them some process that involved approaching the altar, for what reason I am still not certain. This monk walked around the back of the shrine to the other side of the room and knelt in front of a drum, removing its cloth cover and beginning to beat a rhythm. Several other monks entered, two taking up a position in front of the altar, four lined up at the opposite side, and one stationed himself in front of the bell. They began to chant to the rhythm set out by the monk in front of the bell, who then switched to creating a rhythm with two sticks he clicked together.

Eikando monks

The monks filed out again to the sounds of the drum. Two of them remained behind: one to present the guests with an envelope of papers and two long sticks with kanji on them, and the other to extinguish the candles. I continued watching the event until everybody had departed, then sat for another few minutes and thought about it. As I left the temple, I saw two of the young monks walking together along the path, lightly shrouded in mist.

I am not a religious or even remotely spiritual woman, but the whole thing was quite magical.

Off to score some yakitori.

Incidentally, when you come to Japan, remember to bring toilet paper, paper towels and soap. Their public washrooms provide none of these (apparently luxury) items. This public service announcement brought to you by the pants-wiping woman whose purse is largely stuffed with tissues and free hotel soap.

I went to Kushi Kura, a yakitori place, for dinner. It's a few blocks east of Karasuma-Oike station, on the west side of Takakura just north of Oike. "This yakitori-ya serves specially raised chicken grilled over top-grade coal, with an English language menu offering various set meals and a la carte selections", says the guide book. Moderately priced, English language menu, real yakitori... sounds great! I should have known something was up when I noticed that I'd forgotten to write down the kanji characters that were the name of the restaurant, and had to walk up and down the street to find it.

I got there and removed my shoes. The hostess led me to the bar where I could watch the chefs do their stuff. At this point I discover that there is not only no English language menu, nobody there speaks English at all, and I had optimistically (and foolishly) left my phrase book back at the hotel. Somehow I managed to order an eight course yakitori meal. I'm still not sure how I did it. The conversation went something like this:

Her: unintelligible
Me: "Um, sumimasen, Nihongo was wakarimasen." (Sorry, I don't speak Japanese)
Her: "Sorry, no English."
Me: "Yakitori?"
Her: "Yakitori. Course."
Me: helpless look
Her: helpless look
Me: "Sumimasen." (sorry)
Her: "Sorry, sorry."
Me: helpless look
Her: helpless look, calls somebody else over
New person: unintelligible
Me: helpless look
Her: helpless look
New person: helpless look
Her: calls the owner over
Owner: unintelligible
Me: helpless look
Her: helpless look
New person: helpless look
Owner: helpless look

Eventually they just accepted me pointing at something on the menu. I got the kneeling, head to the ground bow from the server, which I could not return, but I did make up for it by apologizing over and over. The food was quite delicious and I would recommend it to anybody. Order the set yakitori dinner on the right side of the menu. Even if you don't know what it is, you can trust me: it was very good.

After paying my bill, the hostess walked me out to the front and gave me my shoes. And bowed. I put on my shoes and stood up. She thanked me for coming and wished me a good night and bowed, so I bowed. Then she opened the outside door and bowed and let me out. She followed me into the street bowing, the super deep bow that's just one step above the nose plant bow I'd gotten when they finally figured out what I wanted to order.

Later, on the way back to the hotel, I stopped by the Daimaru department store and managed to purchase a camera tripod without speaking a word of English, and by only saying "hai" and "arigato" in Japanese. The eight story department store is bizarrely organized. Maybe it makes sense in Japan to have the Nintendo section on the women's lingerie floor, but I never would have figured it out.

BTW, Lisa, I looked for offensive stationery and was unable to find any there. I'll try another store tomorrow.

Japanese people are so wonderfully tolerant of and patient with idiots like me.

As a North American, Japan takes some getting used to. They drive on the other side of the road, walk on the other side of the sidewalk, and--most perplexingly--their maps don't face north. Neither is their country littered with ATMs. ATMs have replaced the maple leaf as the national symbol of Canada. They are everywhere in Toronto: sometimes two or three in a block.

This morning I borrowed a bike from the hotel and rode around Kyoto trying to find an ATM. First of all, there just aren't as many ATMs here as there are back home. Second, only a few accept cards on the Plus network, which is what my bank uses. Third, Plus or not, just a subset of those few actually accept TD: ATMs operated by Citibank.

Foreigners are supposed to be able to use ATMs located at every post office. And, to be fair, there are quite a few post offices. I've tried half a dozen in Tokyo and Kyoto with no luck, so I'm pretty sure it's just Citibank that's the ticket for me. There is EXACTLY ONE CITIBANK in Kyoto, and it's not where everybody tells me it is. I rode around for quite a while looking for it, finally giving up and returning to the hotel to borrow a map. I took the subway to the right station and spent a good two minutes staring at the map to orient myself so that I would leave by the correct exit. Oh, that's another thing: subway stations often have a crapload of exits. There's one in Tokyo with sixty-odd exits. It's amazing that anybody gets anywhere in this country.

There was a guard positioned at the entrance to the bank atrium, which is weird given how totally law-abiding the Japanese are. Which reminds me: nobody locks their bikes here, and if they do, it's purely ornamental. I come from Toronto, the city of the bike thieves. At home, if I lock my bike in a radioactive waste vault buried a thousand feet underground in solid bedrock that is sealed with poured concrete and guarded by an angry mongoose and two divorced, bitter grizzly bears with hemorrhoids, I'd still awaken the next morning to find my bike missing, replaced a calling card from the thief saying "nice try, sucker!"

I've been going like a mad woman for the last week, so I have declared tonight to be my chillaxin' evening. I'm going to go for a swim, then a teppanyaki dinner, and then I'm going to sit in my room and read a book.

I've just had a teppanyaki meal here at the hotel. While significantly less flashy than the US/Canadian version of the meal, it was far tastier. It featured the exquisitely marbled hokkaido beef (which I have had before at North 44) and abalone, which I have never had before in my life.

Also, I've just had an entire bottle of sake all by myself.

I just got an email from Indigo announcing same-day delivery within the GTA. Order by 10am, receive your book by 6pm. This satisfies my burning desire for instant gratification.

Today I check out of the hotel and into Hiiragiya ryokan. On Saturday morning I will check out of Hiiragiya and catch a train to Koya-san where I will stay at Sekisho-in for the night, returning to Tokyo on Sunday afternooon.

The guidebook warns that the monks at Koya-san temples expect you to go to bed early and wake you up early to attend their morning prayers. Me, I'm thinking, sleep in until 6am? That sounds fucking awesome!

As usual, Rick, Krista and Angie know how to get in touch with me.

Sayonara!

I am at Kyoto station waiting for my luggage to arrive. Ryokan was great, and I am looking forward to visiting Koya-san. Back online in a day or so with pics and updates!

My garden at Hiiragiya

I arrived at Hiiragiya Ryokan around 4pm on Friday, removing my shoes at the door and putting the slippers provided to me for walking around. I checked in and informed them of two things: when I would like to take my bath and when I would like to take my dinner. Because I had left most of my luggage with the hotel for them to drop off at the concierge at Kyoto station, I asked for a bath at 5pm and dinner at 6.

I was shown to my lodging, a small tatami room with a wonderful garden view near the front of the ryokan. They seated me in front of the table and brought me a pot of tea, and I sipped on that and read my book until 5pm when I received a call from the front desk. "Your bath is ready", they said, so I slipped into my yukata and went to the bath. After scrubbing, I sat in this wonderful wooden ofuro and got totally relaxed. Upon returning to my room, they fed me a multi-course meal that provided so much food that I couldn't eat it all. I was reduced to tasting little bits of each dish and apologizing for not being able to finish them.

The hostess does this weird thing where she shuffles into your room on her knees, apparently showing deference, while carrying the tray with your food. I'm still not used to that.

After dinner, she moved the table out of the way and asked me to remain seated while she made up my bed. Because I love sleeping, I crawled onto the futon as soon as she left and read my book until I went to sleep.

Breakfast went much the same way: bath followed by entirely too much food. I'm puzzled by how much food they serve. I am a North American and I can't possibly conceive of eating as much as they put in front of me. How is it possible that the Japanese--who, by the way, average out around "downright skinny"--are able to consume that volume?

I'm off. Bye!

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