Tokyo: Toothpicks, Zero km, Department Store, CameraTown - Day 1.5, Tuesday, February 26

Okay, for simplicity's sake we will call this Day One. This morning I learned that the time difference between Japan and California is -17 hours. So, resolved, this IS the future. Also, with that kind of clock math I should be able to go back to sleep easier. What I mean is this. There's a good sleep inducing technique that involves counting backwards from one thousand by threes. The tedium, and the losing of one's place and having to begin again are what defeats awake-mind. I will replace this method with trying to figure out what time it is in California.

Last night we tried to have pizza and ended up at a sushi place after considerable switching on and off of the cellular data network. Was it intimidating to look inside, see a few people sitting at the sushi bar, duck under the banners, open the not-quiet door to the tiny place and announce our American-tourist-we-know-no-Japanese-selves to the entire operation? Yes it was! But of course we were seated graciously with the hostess scrambling to bring out the Englishy menus from somewhere in the back. We split a 10-piece special plate - an interesting experience if you've never tried to split a piece of sushi before and you're worried about looking like an idiot (spoiler: you will) - with a surprising twist: baby sardines! They look like small eels, do have eyes, and taste pretty good. That one was especially interesting to split. Hotel breakfast was delicious: kale-egg-(good but just the other side of raw)-bacon toast with a flat white coffee. Make that two flat white coffees. Met and had a nice chat with Stephanie, a friendly, ambitious traveller from Belgium. She has a movie that should be out soon, to which I will link if she reads this and sends me its address. Off for our day... Nihonbashi bridge, Map Camera, Tokyo toilets are the planned destinations.

Tokyo: Cool Department Store, First Ramen, Camera Madness (Otaku) - Day 2, February 27, Wednesday

First off, a correction is warranted. Regarding the baby sardines of yesterday's entry, I erroneously noted that they were "especially interesting to spit." Though that also probably would have been true, in fact they were "especially interesting to SPLIT." So, Freudian error or not, the correction has been made.

Another fine hotel breakfast and a new and interesting fellow-traveller, a very friendly German woman (did not get her name) staying a couple of unanticipated extra days because of a flight cancellation. Took a photo of Stephanie, Monika and Y (can't use X any more) that came out pretty nice.

Yesterday was our first, well my first, walking around Tokyo. Everything was fresh and new until about Step 17,000. The first few of those steps took us to a quaint little street where we discovered a shop with a man with a cleaver making toothpicks from the wood of a "Black Character" plant. He sat on a stool at one side of the shop and above him hung a verbal/pictorial history of the ancient craft of making toothpicks. Minty in smell, pliant in flex, relatively small in price -- we made our first Tourist Purchase. Little known to us, this turned out to be a pretty famous shop. Good discovery!

Nihonbashi Bridge. I probably don't have this right but this bridge first existed in 1603 as a wooden structure. In 1911 it was converted to stone. Now I'm not sure what it is but it takes a bit of imagination to place this as the one-time central market and business hub of Old Tokyo. I think that may be a requirement for much of the sightseeing of antique Japan: imaginative re-creation. That works. We got a special stamp from the Tourist info center there, proceeding to the Mitsukoshi department store, the oldest in Japan (I think).

This was the first of two or three department stores we entered yesterday. We would not necessarily have chosen to enter more than one but developers have done a remarkable job of integrating access to trains directly through giant department stores. But this one was not part of a train station. Instead, it was delightful in that "What century are we in?" kind of way. Answer: early 20th (1914). And full of women. I mean FULL. One floor had a "pop-up store" with a kind of maker's market and craft workshop and seniorwear and ... and was absolutely jammed. Not a man, except in the mirror, to be seen. In seven enormous floors we finally found the ten men - all in lounge chairs on a mezzanine overlooking a giant atrium with a four-story wooden statue of the Celestial Maiden carved from the "good wood" of a 500 year old cypress tree. Some incredible red linoleum-covered stairs leading to the ground floor probably dating from 1914 or thereabouts. An incredible set of escalators, dating same I think. The first in Japan. The handrails of the escalators were spotless! And on the seventh floor, a beautiful roof garden.

Next stop, Tokyo Station. Outside, an old plum tree was in bloom, surrounded by people posing and picturing with an old plum tree. Inside? Thank you Sue and Tom for the heads-up on Tokyo Station. More people in that station than on all the streets combined. Some serious walking, but the signage was great and because it was not rush hour, the crowds manageable. We found our destination - "Ramen Street" - and made our first vending machine meal ticket purchase for, in my case, a teriyaki pork tonkatsu ramen. THAT was an excellent purchase!

Train to Shinjuku section of the city. Tokyo is large, apparently. I qualify that because much of the time I couldn't actually see the city. I know we were on a train for about a half hour in much the same way I was in a plane for ever and when we arrived we were in a different place. Destination? Map Camera, accomplished. And then Yodabashi Camera. And then MiniMini Camera. And then, ultimately, punctuationaly, Camera Box. In all, I tried one lens (discounted because of a microscopic ding and the fact that the previous owner "was a smoker"), and actually purchased an SD card ($50) and four rolls of film ($90). Monika bought a power bank for the phone from a grumpy guy for some amount of money. Not cheap. If Japan is, as everyone claims, "cheap" right now I'd hate to come when it's expensive.

Tokyo: Shinjuku Scramble, First Two Toilets, Conveyor Belt Sushi, - Day 3, Thursday February 28

Previous day addendum. Monika wanted me to mention that her black garlic ramen was also excellent, and arguably better than mine. What I did appreciate was her broth which met with "Delicious! Like drinking gravy!" from me.

Tokyo: 1964 Olympics, Three(!) Toilets, - Day 4

To start, yesterday's entry was a bit hurried to post. I made a few corrections to typos, a few edits, and maybe it's better now. You can be the judge. And though I'm making no reference to world events so far, they are not going unnoticed by us. Just uncommented. Except to say I feel incredible sadness and anger. The return to Great America will be happening with the deepest of mixed feelings. America has never been the Shining City on the Hill, but never has it wallowed in this level of avarice and ineptitude but - I definitely digress.

Last day in Tokyo at this point in the trip. Our plan is to return again at the end of the trip for two days, which I suspect will be interesting by comparison. Today, the Plan was for Imperial Palace, Yoyogi National Gymnasium, the Mei-Ji Shine, and of course, Toilets. I wouldn't say we strictly adhered to the Plan, but we didn't do badly.

Shinkansen & Slow Train to Murakami - Day 5

First Shinkansen travel day. Tokyo to Niigata. Then local train from Niigata to Murakami. We purchased tickets the day before at the ticket office, receiving three or four tickets with very clear instructions about when and in what order to use each of the identical-looking tickets. When faced with the actual use of those tickets in an automated gate with a very patient line of twenty or thirty people behind us, we folded. We decided to get in the line to see "the man" who would stamp the appropriate tickets. He asked us about our "IC card." This meant nothing to us. He stamped, we proceeded through and up the stairs to find our train. With six minutes to departure (and those trains DO leave on time!) Monika remarked, "I think we never got our Suica cards punched through an exit." Fearing massive charges to the cards when we exited hundreds of miles later, what followed was something that might have looked good in a Chaplin movie. Down the multi-level stairway, back to see "the man", a completely ridiculous panic-attempt to communicate the problem, a scan of our Suica cards, aka, apparently, "IC cards", a sprint up the multi-level staircase (no escalators for us!) all with packs and masks on, to find our line now much longer but still on the platform. A long entry for getting on the train.

Once on that train, things proceeded smoothly. Took a while to exit the Tokyo metropolis but then we started getting up to full Shinkansen speed. Impressive! Fast yet smooth and somehow it was much easier to still see the landscape than it is on the high speed European trains I've been on. Hit the mountains and the snow - beautiful - and finally to Niigata, where we switched to the already waiting train that goes to Murakami. Great coordination! Out of the mountains and down to the coast of the Sea of Japan (not yet renamed) and into Murakami where we were met by Monika's friend from Heidelberg, Anja, and her husband, Masayuki. They would be our companions in all things Murakami.

What a relief to not have to make so many decisions! Especially the "left or right" decisions. Anja helped us check into our authentic ryokan and that was a very good thing. I think zero English is a pretty fair estimation for this establishment. But a beautiful tatami mat room with low table and futon mattresses and sliding doors and too-small slippers and he-baths and she-baths and a little garden - as I said, the real deal. My low-table stamina is improving, and I did subsequently enjoy sleeping on the futon. A definite step up from the backpacking air mattress and I slept better, but not entirely differently than I do when backpacking.

The Sea of Japan and Murakami Doll Day- Day 6

Anja cooked breakfast for us (pretty much all homemade): miso bread, soy milk soup with veggies, fruit salad, yogurt with kiwi jam, cheese, cucumber, coffee, and much happiness.

Drove for a few minutes to see the west coast and Sea of Japan. "Straight across is North Korea." We could not see it. Drove further north, along the coast, and the light was beautiful. Stopped two or three times for photos, including once at a rock shrine. I know nothing about the religious practices that would have designated a rock outcropping as a shrine but I LOVE that! I'm totally guessing that unusual natural formations are evidence of a certain kind of spirit at work in(?) or on(?) that place and that those spirits are recognized and honored. I climbed up the rock to a small collection spot and deposited the go-en (5 yen coin) Anja gave me (word play on 'significant connection' if I remember properly what Anja said). Then on to the harbor, where we bought salt, and back to Murakami.

Walked through streets and some important historical houses of Murakami, open to the public for Dolls Day or Girl's Day, a national holiday celebrating, yes, girls. I'm sure it goes much, much deeper than that. I don't know the tradition, but the craftsmanship and creativity in these dolls are apparent. On the wall of one house hung a photo of President Kennedy in Japan receiving one of the dolls as a gift from the Prime Minister.

Masayuki made a delicious dinner: homemade udon noodles (dough kneading accomplished by placing in a plastic bag, putting the bag on the floor, and stepping on it!), tsuyu (soy-based udon broth), Anja-made tempura (shiitake, lotus root, burdock root), salad with greens, wasabi greens, shredded carrots, yuzu-soy-oil dressing. More of Anja's cheesecake for dessert.

Evening at Gakuya, Masayuki's place, listening to another great selection of jazz: Victor Feldman (never heard of), the Animals (okay, some rock mixed in), Patti Smith, Nina Simone, and more. Such a cool place, and like many, a one-person show.

Slow Trains, Faster & Fastest: Murakami to Kanazawa, First Bus - Day 7

Breakfast made by Masayukii: Japanese omelet, Murakami-style salmon, grated daikon, two flavors of homemade onagiri (rice balls for our travels), soup, kombu sheets, strawberries. I probably missed something. Fantastic Japanese breakfast! These guys prepared a welcome feast fit for royalty, all the while either working (in Masayuki's case), tour-guiding (in Anja's case) and packing (in both their cases) for a long-awaited, much-deserved and I'm sure too brief vacation of their own. A big thank you! (Domo?) Arigato gozaimasu!

Three trains and a bus to Kanazawa. Great day for people and speeding scenery watching. Kanazawa Gate outside the station is enormous! First of many, many artworks in this city. First bus in Japan. Much more nerve-wracking than the trains, which provide decent international signage or announcements. Not so for the busses and communicating our desired stop was a challenge.

And, side comment, the whole tech side of the trip (Maps, Translate) was iffy. Prepare to ASK A HUMAN! That can also be challenging, of course, but someone willing to spend a little time communicating (as was almost everyone we approached) was ALWAYS better than an app.

Arrived at the "Old-fashioned good time 1960's style ryokan" for one of our GCEs (Genuine Cultural Experiences). About $60 per night and worn but definitely workable. Upside? The price! The bathing room (with all the hot water) was first-come, first served and private (never too busy). Location, magnificent. Everything clean. Room cleaned, futons made (including an increasing number of blankets on one -- mine) and fresh yakutas (robes) every day. Downsides? Very thin futons, very hard floor, heater shuts down at night, I have to bend down through every doorway (Jim! How did you do it?). Low table, floor-level seating. Five nights here with the little bad and much good.

Dinner downstairs at arbitrarily-selected Haru, a pretty typical one-person show and a hungry second choice after being turned away from a packed izakaya Itaru (looks fantastic and very crowded). Few people in here but our chancing it turned out well. Pretty simple bar food: okonomiyaki and sobayaki. The okonomiyaki (a fluffy pancake-like dish) was one of Sue's favorite and soon became one of ours.

After dinner walk took us through the samurai district at night, a great time to see it. Ended at York, a jazz bar we had seen earlier on our walk, where I sat (unknowingly) in the (former) master's bar chair (a low barber's chair) and listened to some vinyl spun by the not very communicative current owner-operator of the bar. The collection, and knowledge of the collection (in which the printing on most of the album spines were worn off) was pretty impressive.

Kanazawa: Garden, Pool, Hamachi - Day 8

Cold, hard night's sleep. Breakfast at Café Merzbau, a recommendation of Anja's where she said we would find reliably good food. True. And great atmosphere. Two-person operation (with an invisible dishwasher I think). Turntable with a quiet mix of music, lots of books. Pretty simple, toast-based menu, or at least that's what I could understand. Places often have English menus but I've found them just marginally easier. That's on me. Brown rice toast, boiled egg, yogurt with jam. Coffee. Monika had a delicious cinnamon toast with hot slices of banana. And tea.

Cool-looking camera shop across the street w old Fujifilm sign. Surely I would find the "goods" in here! Looking for a Pentax 28 lens or a Contax AX camera. A pretty quick "nope" and we were off to see something tourist...

Which would turn out to be the famous Kenrokuen Garden, a guidebook "top three" in Japan. Well, it was spectacular in scope, in site, in its care, its artistry, but not, unfortunately, in its color or its photogeneity. The latter is not really the garden's fault, but rather a combination of dark skies backgrounding dark plants and a general lack of skill on the part of the photographer.

Kanazawa: Meltdown, Books, Catch-Up, & Mystery - Day 9

Kanazawa: Sleep!! And Nice Breakfast Chat, Big Purchase, Castle, Soba/Udon, Geiki, Gold Leaf Ice Cream, Shopping Center Tempura - Day 10

I'll bet you can guess where we had breakfast. Right, Café Merzbau. Tried to order the exact same breakfast but we were confronted with a problem. Today was the day for a special menu, and for only the special menu. We noticed the usual main cook sitting at a table. We asked her if it was her day off. She said, "Yes. I am a customer today." We ordered from the special menu. Turned out to be delicious, and I think used up some of the leftovers from the breakfast and lunch services from the week prior. They would - oh no! - be closed tomorrow!

Pretty soon the main cook/customer came over to talk with us a bit. We found out that the "main cook," Rika, was the owner of the restaurant she took over from her husband after he died. He had been an art student in Kanazawa, and wanted a cool café where he and his buddies could hang out. He built one. This is it. Just the greatest kind of place, run by someone friendly and kind, with care shown in everything, including her conversation with us. Turns out she lives in the apartment above the café, as was common at one time. We thought we would not see her again, so said some sad goodbyes. I asked about the camera shop across the street. Was it any good? "Oh yes. It's for professionals."

And that, along with a birthday donation from my daughter, and some patience and a transposition of the first two digits of the price by Monika during her conversion calculations, were all I needed to impulse-buy a 1950's vintage Contax IIa rangefinder with a 50 mm 1.4 Zeiss Jena lens from the cool little camera shop across the street from Café Merzbau. The owner of that store and I had a little chat of course, and with as much as you can tell from a 100% pocket translator conversation, he seemed very down to earth, very honest, very knowledgeable, and very happy to see me go. I had pestered him with questions about the camera - mostly how to operate it, which is a bit different than most modern cameras - and bought a roll of film. He threw in another. It's a small camera, weighs a ton, and has a sweet shutter sound that just feels and sounds like it's from another time. I love it!

To the Castle we stormed! Or walked. Maybe trudged, but something more peppy I think. The castle turned out to be mostly one reconstructed part and the story of that reconstruction - which was fascinating in its way but not exactly the original castle feel I was looking for. But no nails in this beast!

Made our way to Kanazawa's geisha (known here as geiki) district and were hungry. Very hungry. Went into a restaurant chain we knew from the library and were disappointed to find it served only ice cream. I asked the woman working there where we could find something good to eat. "Do you like soba?" "Sure. Yes," was my partially true answer. It was late in the afternoon, many places closed, we were hungry, and we had never before eaten soba noodles. Of course we/I would like them. She directed us to a small place off the Main Street where I ordered soba noodle soup, Monika stuck with an udon noodle soup, and we were both happy. The place had a large stone grinder to make the soba (and probably) udon noodle flour. Delicious.

After lunch we hit the geiki district, which turned out to be a bit less interesting than we hoped. The houses weren't terribly ornate or distinctive, the geiki themselves invisible, and the tourists mildly plentiful. Shops were open of course with many selling one form or another of gold leaf covered ice cream. Most of the gold leaf in Japan comes from Kanazawa, so something of a Kanazawa industry and a tourist gimmick. We bought some from the woman who told us about the soba. I can now authoritatively say that gold leaf tastes a lot like whatever ice cream is under it.

We made reservations for a fancy-looking restaurant for the next night, and started our search for our next meal. Somehow, that meal turned out to be in a shopping center. Tired, hungry, we opted for a tempura place ("We haven't had that yet") that turned out to be excellent. One thing of note for me. Pretty much every restaurant we've been in has toothpicks at the table. Often they are nothing to write home about, but TempuraLand turned out to have the same kind of "black character" toothpicks as the special store in Nihonbashi. Had I known that before leaving the table I would have had gifts for everyone back home! They really ARE great toothpicks.

No Sleep, German Bakery (Sort of), D.T. Suzuki, Market & Conveyor Sushi, Reprise Contemporary Art, Dinner Trouble, Began Futon "Msstery" - Day 11 - Friday

With Café Merzbau not a breakfast option, we headed to the "German Bakery" for a pretty loose interpretation of German baked goods. As we perused the offerings, another couple walked in to do the same. "This looks pretty healthy," I said eying a solid-looking dark colored roll. "And it looks vaguely German" said Monika. "Very vaguely" said the German tourist behind us. We all agreed to agree, and it turns out we were right. Vaguely. I barely remember what else we got. Something with an egg I think. Middling cup of coffee. No Merzbau that's for sure.

D.T. Suzuki Museum was one of my highlights. It's was really intrigued to go here because at one time in my life I had several of Suzuki's books about Buddhism and its influence on the Japanese culture. I even read at least two of them. And I had not thought about him for many, many years after that until I read that there was a museum dedicated to him in Kanazawa, his home town. I read the reviews and all seemed to agree: the building and the pond is cool but otherwise "there's nothing there." E-x-a-c-t-l-y. A wonderful embodiment of a Zen koan, the building and its surroundings seem built around a concept of nothing. And at this point in there trip that was exactly what I craved. Beautiful nothingness.

But neither the day nor the trip ended there. Plenty of something to go. We headed to the Kanazawa marketplace to see everything a traditional marketplace has to offer: fresh fish, shellfish, vegetables, fruits, and food. We were hungry and this was supposedly the place to find good conveyor-belt sushi. We looked all over, and climbing to the second floor and looking down spotted a long line of people waiting for a restaurant below. We headed down and yes, indeed, we could wait in that line for conveyor-belt sushi. We did, and had an improved version of our earlier experience. Certainly livelier too. The tables were served with little Shinkansen trains headed out to their tables. The chefs work hard in these places!

Headed back to Museum of Contemporary Art to see Olafur Eliasson's chromatic piece in the sunlight. Also saw a cool composting teepee on the museum grounds. Thought about going back in to see the pool from above but it either started raining again or the museum was closing. Or both. Don't quite remember as I write this.

Dinner at the fancy restaurant we had reserved the prior day was spectacular - in decor. And the surprise seating on the floor with a low table located very close to my crossed legs? Not spectacular. Five minutes, maybe ten I endured the pain. The sides of my feet digging into the not-at-all-soft tatami mat, My back screaming. My knees nowhere near the floor. Scrunched into a pain ball. Something had to be done. It was pretty obvious I would not be enjoying the decor nor the dinner.

Monika asked for a chair. How embarrassing! I was thrilled to find out that yes, they would bring a chair. "Two," says Monika. Misery loves company. I can see why they don't provide chairs - the table height remained the same. So eating now became a bit of a chopstick skill test: how far could I transport this object I'm holding between two small round surfaces? Long enough to reach the height of a man sitting in a (low) chair? Sometimes! The dinner, a broth warmed by candle in what amount to a beaker, and three different courses of ingredients to add to the broth, was certainly beautiful and memorable. And with the chair, tolerable. Two other couples shared our room, much younger, but I know they had chair-envy.

Three Trains & a Taxi, Survived Choking on Cold Soba, House of Light Baby!, More Futon Mastery - Day 12 - Saturday

Before leaving Kanazawa we managed one final breakfast at the Merzbau. Rika back in the kitchen, we ordered our usual, all was right with the world, said real good-byes, and away we went for our big adventureA: the House of Light in Tokamachi. One of my favorite things about going to Tokamachi is the fact that most people we talked to had never heard of it, or if they had they were probably confusing it with some other town with a similar name. We were going because we could stay in the House of Light, a traditional Japanese house designed by the light artist James Turrell for the Echigo-Tsumari Triennial Art Field.

But before we could do that we had to take three decreasingly fast trains to arrive in the city of Tokamachi. The snow levels increased each leg of the journey, as did our hunger. When we finally arrived lunchtime was nearly over. We asked the Visitor Information person where she recommended we eat for lunch and were directed to a couple of places, both offering the regional specialty - soba noodles. Easy. I enjoyed my previous soba, so, yes. We picked the closest place.

Like many dishes in Japan, soba noodles can be served in several ways, the principal difference being hot or cold. My previous experience was hot. This one was not. And instead of being presented in a soup, they were presented in maybe a dozen nicely shaped nests. Some cold broth was brought in small bowls. Maybe some pickles, I don't remember. But what I do remember is I had NO idea how we were supposed to eat this platter of cold noodle nests. And here's another thing about soba noodles. They are made of buckwheat, have no gluten, and thus no way to bind the flour together. So the flour is held together with seaweed. And there you have the full picture: a platter full of a dozen cold, fist-sized, seaweed-bound noodles along with a small cup of cold broth of indeterminate purpose. No other customers in the restaurant to watch and imitate. What would you do?

Down the hatch was my approach to this gustatory conundrum as it was to every other unknown ingredient I had previously encountered. I wrangled that noodle nest onto my chopsticks and into my mouth, whole, cold, slimey, and attempted to chew. It didn't go well. Details are not necessary. Somehow, I subsequently learned that the nest went into the broth and then a FEW noodles went into my mouth, an approach that minimized choking considerably.

After the choking lunch, we returned to the station to get a taxi ride to the House of Light. Despite recent heavy snowfall, the roads were clear thanks to a rather ingenious method of snow removal: hot water. In many of the snow-friendly cities the roads plumbed with outlets (like pop-up sprinklers) where (hot?) water flows out from the middle of the street to melt any fallen snow! Saw this in Murakami, Kanazawa, and now Tokamachi, all with recent snowfall, all with clear roads. I think the same technique works for the railroads to some extent. In one station I saw rainbird sprinklers deployed between the tracks. Of course, I also saw several snow-plough engines in the more remote regions but what a simple, brilliant idea!

Leaving House of Light, Tokamachi Monet Art Museum, Echigo-Yuzawa, Accidental Octopus Balls & Cross-Legged Discovery, Split-Sex Onsen, Massage Chair! - Day 13 - Sunday

We got up EARLY the next morning to watch the sunrise light program, something I am not much prone to do. One of our tentative plans for the trip had us going to a monastery in Nara where we would sleep and them be awakened at 5 or 6 (can't remember which) so that we could sit on the floor and listen to a half hour or so of prayer chanting. While a GCE (Genuine Cultural Experience), this idea did not hold enough interest for me to make the cut. This (the morning sunrise light program), however, did. Barely. Again, the open roof would have added another dimension to the experience (including a lot of cold air), but to just sit quietly and watch the subtle changes in light as sunrise approached was interesting and satisfying on its own.

Breakfast, photos, goodbyes, and a taxi back to town. Had a bit of time before catching our next train. Without high expectations, we decided to visit the Tokamachi Museum of Contemporary Art Monet, a short walk from the train station. I don't know what the "Monet" part of the museum was (didn't see any) but otherwise this place exceeded our low expectations a million times over. Our first experience was the shouts and laughter of kids and adults playing with the artworks. What!?! A ping-pong table shaped like an irregular checkerboard with catch-basins as targets (inspired by beer-pong?). A teeter-totter with a xylophone in the middle and a rolling metal ball playing tunes at every up and down of the seats. Squishy balls to throw. Variable height blocks to traverse. Split-level basketball hoops. In another area, crazy percussive machines we were invited to roll down the sidewalk. In the central, open-air space, a snow-maze. This is a museum?!? Yes, please!

Echigo-Yuzawa: Looking for a River, Strawberries, Station Ramen, Station Sake Onsen Skipping, First 7-11 Dinner, Onsen Bubble Bath, Reprise of the Massage Chair - Day 14 - Monday, March 10

Echigo-Yuzawa is in the Japanese Alps and known for its snow and its hot springs. We weren't skiing this trip and our hotel was equipped with his and hers onsens, so we wondered what we were going to do on this rather warm but very snow-surrounded day. We thought about going cross country skiing, but when we mentioned that in a couple of places they looked at us like we were from Mars. It's definitely not a thing there. Snowshoes could be had but, well, why? Where would we walk anyway? There were some snowshoe "tours" you could do at the ski resorts but you had to take a tram to get there. I was not feeling it. We decided to walk "to the river."

To get to the river, you walked through the city, which, for its size, had a remarkable number of cars and heavy trucks moving at very high rates of speed. We walked and walked, listening to traffic, and finally found one possible path to the river at an underpass. All we needed to do was climb a six-foot-high snow embankment and then posthole through about a quarter mile of snow (where were our snowshoes?!?) to reach it. We decided against this course. Walked some more and came to a bridge with someone painting the river scene. We had arrived!

We could not walk along the river, but we enjoyed the view from the bridge and the sound of dump trucks hauling and depositing excess town-snow into the river. Ah memories of season before last in Mammoth! We walked over the bridge and found a strawberry farm. Under glass (or plastic). Greenhouse strawberries in March? Pick your own greenhouse strawberries with snow outside and a pretty stiff wind? Of course. Light lunch of "we picked our own strawberries and enjoyed them, thank you very much." Eventually, with hunger increasing, we found a proper lunch with train station ramen. Not Tokyo Station ramen, but good enough. The station is pretty large, and we noted, but did not partake of, the Sake Museum, which boasted its own hot pool of sake for bathing. The region is known for producing excellent sake. And, as I said, its hot springs. So why not combine the two?!?

Dinner from 7-11, microwave yakisoba, and no need for a long journal entry.

Bath time brought me to the other onsen (the his and hers pools get switched every day for some reason), this one a bubble bath - meaning high-intensity bubble jets instead of the waterfall. The pre-soak drill was the same, except this time I put my shoes in the locker with my robe. Smart. Again, ten minutes and into the massage chair. Monika had given me 6 100-yen coins so that I could get a double session this time. But through one, my body said, "That's enough."

Travel to Kyoto: Full Speed Shinkansen Through Station (Wow!), Hotel Mume, Hot Pot (Oden) Dinner, No-Geisha Night Walk, Yamatoya, The Jazz Bar - Day 15, Western Bed! - Tuesday, March 11

Ate some kind of breakfast somewhere (7-11?) because the coffee shop we found yesterday was not open until 11. Today was travel day, we had our luggage, and headed to the station for the bullet train to Tokyo and another to Kyoto, our penultimate destination. While waiting on the platform, another bullet train came into the station on the central express tracks at absolutely full speed! I have never been that close to something moving at that speed. Felt like a little kid, mouth agape, the only words that I could muster were, "Wow! Just wow!" Unforgettable sight.

One thing I might mention about the Japanese train stations, and the platforms specifically. People waiting to get on the trains line up at specific (marked) spots, where the train will stop and open its doors. Those spots are about three feet back from the edge of the platform, and everyone pays attention to them. Between the lined up people and the edge of the platform (and the tracks on which the train rides) is a three or four foot wall with sliding steel doors which are CLOSED until the train enters the station and STOPS at the proper location. Then, only then, do the steel doors open and the train doors open. When the train doors close, so do the platform doors! Safety!!! New York???

Three hours, two Shinkansen trains, and a lot of countryside later, we were out of the Alps, through Tokyo, and into Kyoto and catching a bus to Hotel Mume, a New York Times 2017 36 Hours in Kyoto recommendation for a "boutique" hotel in Kyoto. Most importantly to me, we would have a king-sized western bed for the first time since day 3 in Tokyo. To say I was looking forward to this would be a massive understatement.

I do not believe any other guests of the Hotel Mume have ever arrived by public bus. Our backpack-suitcases and in my case, neck-hanging Samsonite overnight bag doubling as my camera bag must have been a pretty remarkable sight. But to the credit of this incredibly well-trained and welcoming staff we got not the slightest whiff of amusement or condescension. The front desk staff were all slight young women, and when one insisted on taking the 40 pound suitcase off my back I wondered how that would go. They are apparently as strong as they are well-trained. No problem.

"Western Breakfast," Searching for a Rock Garden, Izakaya Cooking Class, More Western Bed- Day 16 - Wednesday, March 12

The "Western Breakfast" at Hotel Mume consisted of yogurt, fruit salad, three kinds of rolls (different each day), a hard-boiled egg, three kinds of jam (different every day), some kind of vegetable soup (different every day) and a beverage of our choice (n my case always the same: coffee with hot milk). Excellent. Off for our day of Zen Rock Gardens and a temple with 1000 statues and a cooking class!

It's My Birthday!, Gratitude: The Side Road Up Mt. Inari, Yakiniku or Japanese Barbecue at Maruhiru - Day 17 - Thursday, March 13

This was a significant birthday for me, and I wanted to stretch myself with something I would remember for the rest of my viable mental life. I had never been to Japan (or any other part of Asia), had been interested for a long time, but "konichiwa" and "arigato" were the extent of my knowledge of the Japanese language. I had no clue how to interpret a Kanji character, and though I had been to some big cities, my understanding was that Tokyo was "next level." It seemed like it would be an adventure.

The trip ultimately had plenty of adventure and novelty, but for my birthday itself I had limited ideas as to what I wanted to do. The only thing I really wanted was to do something a little physically and maybe mentally strenuous. My idea was that we could accomplish this with a hike through the famous Torij gates on the way up to Fushimi Inari-taisha Shinto shrine, at the base of Mt. Inari. So this was the main reason we were in Kyoto. The main route to the top has about 800 of the reddish-orange gates, set closely together to form a kind of tunnel. The shrine as a whole has some 10,000 Torij gates. These are the subject of countless photographs by even more countless tourists, including us.

I don't think I was aware of why exactly this appealed to me. From the outset it was clear that we wouldn't be doing this in reflective solitude. Wikipedia said that over the three days(!) of the Japanese New Year in 2006, the shrine received over two and a half million worshipers. (We did not see quite that many but it must have been close.) I had been told by friends who visited previously that the "crowds thin out the higher you go." This was patently not true. Or if true, so minimal a falling off as to be indiscernible to me.

I had my own plan for the gates. I remembered seeing people bow before they went through, so I decided I would do that, and would say silent and sincere words of gratitude at each gate. Seemed like a very appropriate Big Birthday thing to do, which I did for the first maybe dozen gates or so. After that, I maintained my gratitude, but felt that our progress would be significantly delayed by bowing at all 800.

Sometimes people have a hard time telling if I am serious or if I'm joking. I think that might be an issue here, so let me just say that my most true and sincerest birthday wish was to feel deep gratitude for the life I've been given, and for the love and friendship that has been given to me through my life. I feel so lucky to have been loved by, and to have been able to love, so many people. I wanted to use this occasion to remember and celebrate that. And that's my serious paragraph.

We got lost on the way up the mountain, and that too, it turns out was fortunate. We hung a right when we should have made a left, abandoning the Torij gates pretty much altogether, which brought us to a dirt trail, mostly devoid of people, skirting the edge of a bamboo forest. There we found several mall shrines and moss-covered cemetery stones, and spent some moments in, yes, quiet reflection. Memento mori is not a bad thing to do on one's birthday. Up top, we met up with some decent portion of the million or so other visitors, tossed a few coins into the offering box, and descended the 800 gate tunnel at the pace of the other tourists back down to the entrance.

We returned to Hotel Mume just in time for some complimentary birthday bubbly and a gift of sweets from Hotel Mume owner. Then we were off to the dinner they had set up at a family-run, and as we had repeatedly heard, cash-only, Japanese "barbecue" restaurant. We were surprised to find ourselves the only customers in the place, something the owner/chef says happens to him "about once a month." And though the custom is for the customers to grill their own Waygu meals, this evening he would cook for us himself.

Our attempts at communication with the owner and his wife/girlfriend/employee/waitress/bartender (any and all of the above???) were difficult and conducted entirely via translation device, and often met with mixed success. The actual dinner proceeded more smoothly, though we had some initial concerns.

We had zero experience with Japanese barbecue so it was unclear to us how the meal would proceed. We knew how much cash we were expected to bring and that's it. As soon as we sat down the chef rubbed the grill in front of us with a big chunk of beef tallow and two quarter-inch -thick slices of heavily marbled Grade A5 Waygu beef went on. Add a slice of green pepper and about two minutes and our tastings could begin. Immediately, two more slices of beef went on. Then two more. So three pieces each, about 10 minutes to eat delicious pieces of beef (our FIRST beef of the trip), dipped in Japanese barbeque sauce and accompanied by a green pepper and wasabi. Fast and furious! I think the Japanese tend to eat meals quickly, but then I think that of most people, so maybe that's not true.

At this point we were concerned about two things. First, if our meal had just finished, well, it was delicious but very brief, and very expensive. Second, if we had more courses coming, the pace would be difficult to sustain. Monika said, "We like to eat slowly," which resulted in a nod of possible comprehension and a very slight change in tempo. We had a delicious sweet onion steamed in a foil packet and then another round of three different (but equally sized) cuts of Waygu. These would be dipped into a different sauce, almost like a French dip sauce, with a mound of grated daikon radish topped with yuzu, This was all stirred together for the beef dip, and accompanied with a grilled shiitake mushroom. Mushroom, daikon and yuzu was a flavor combination I'd never experienced before and was outstanding.

A delicious tomato (everything seasonal and of high quality) made an appearance between one of the rounds of beef. Then came our final round of three pieces each of Waygu loin, the location of which on the animal was demonstrated by the owner grabbing the lower back of his wife/gf/waitress/bartender, who, as we laughed, said, "That's my job!" This course was the trickiest for me. I picked up the cooked beef with chopsticks, dipped it into beaten egg, and then placed it on top of some rice and scooped the rice up into the outstretched beef, sealed the whole "enchilada" and popped it into my mouth. The chef demonstrated this technique and Monika picked it up pretty quickly. The other one of us had some trouble.

By the end, we were certainly full, and definitely feeling the effects of nine pieces of exquisitely marbled beef. I was happy to learn that dessert was a strawberry. Of course it was a large strawberry, and was told, via translator, "It's best eaten whole." As I attempted this feat, some laughter and a more detailed explanation ensued. Apparently "whole" was Google's understanding of "without interspersing other foods in between bites." That would have lessened my level of achievement considerably.

Birthday beef-dreams in a Western bed.

Sanjusangendo Temple, A Pagoda or Two, SO MANY PEOPLE, Travel to Tokyo - Day 18 - Friday, March 14

Since we had not been able to visit the ancient Sanjusangendo Temple a couple of days earlier, and because it was our last day, we decided to give it a go first thing in the morning, which for us, is about 10 a.m. A fifteen minute bus ride and a short walk brought us to the longest wooden building in Japan, 120-meters long and housing an impressively large wooden statue of Kannon, goddess of mercy, surrounded by 1000 human-sized statues. Each statue has 11 heads and 42 arms, all the better to fully witness, and then fight, human suffering. Again, on a serious note, I found myself deeply moved here, thinking about the suffering that continues seemingly unabated, and even perhaps increasing, in our world right now. The past two days felt very grounding to me, appropriate, as our trip was nearing a close.

After the temple we decided to walk back to the hotel and managed to see not one but two pagodas. To this point in the trip, pagodas had not entered our view at all, and we were excited to see them. This excitement was shared with most of the rest of the visitors to Kyoto - all those who were not climbing up Mt. Inari that is. We took a few photos, dodged thousands of fellow tourists, and made it back to the hotel, where we readily accepted the hotel's offer to call us a cab to go to Kyoto Station, where we caught our train to Tokyo and the Sotetsu Fresa Hotel in Ueno, home of one more (slightly cozier) western bed.

Dinner across the street from the hotel was another ramen restaurant where we ordered by vending machine. Decent but no Tokyo Station ramen. Outside the neighborhood had a bit of nightlife. Several young ladies had signs with prices with time for "Cat or Nurse." Our internet search was not conclusive on the activities involved in Cat or Nurse, but apparently a gentle patting on the head may or may not be part of this. We just don't know.

Ueno Park, Ameyoko (America) Street, Döner Kebab, Cool Cafe, Kappabasha dori, Ginza Shopping (Itoya, Muji, Mitzukoshi) - Day 19 - Saturday, March 15

Light breakfast (7-11 yogurt with a few apple pieces) then Ueno Park to see the beautiful pond and, unbeknownst to only us, cherry trees. The cherry trees, though almost as plentiful as the hopeful sightseers, were not, alas, in bloom. Indications are that some may look soon though: the walkways were organized with cones and designated areas for picnics on asphalt under the trees, and people thronged the walkways in the appropriate directions. Food vendors offer their specialties and we sampled three meats on three sticks for 500 yen.

We sauntered around the pond, which in this season lacked some of the charms to which the guidebooks had alluded. Spent lotus stems dominated the views, except for some open water occupied by paddle-boats of a waterfowl design. Around the back side of the pond, hundreds of 5 year old girls-with-entourage lined up to perform some kind of (dance?) routine on a giant stage.

We headed to our main goal for the day, Kappabashi dori Street. Dori means street, so it's street-street. Like Alice Keck Park Park in Santa Barbara, sort of. This street, more accurately, this few blocks of streets, are FULL of food related items. They sell no food, but EVERYTHING that surrounds the food. And here's the magic: one store = one category of food-related product. Examples? Glad to provide. One store sells signs for restaurants. Another sells ceramic plates. Another sells metal bowls and whisks. Another coffee grinders of every conceivable size and type. You think of something to put on or around a table, there's a store for every one of those things. An appliance? One store for each. Or more than one store. Knives are HUGE on this street. Many knife shops. In one we heard the salesman ask What is the largest cut of meat that you work with? When you cut vegetables, do you rock or chop with the knife? The answers led to a specific shelf of maybe 20 knives from which the customer might want to begin his evaluation. I was interested in having a Japanese chef's knife but after listening to and watching a bit of that, nope. Too much. It seems like a great experience though if you have some idea of what you want. No doubt undoubtedly you will find it on Kappabashi dori Street.

Still hungry. Monika found a cool coffee place nearby. We split a small piece of delicious "Sakura" (cherry) cake and each had our own incredibly competent coffee. So many cool small businesses in Japan! Nice music, great decor (old tube radios, among other stuff), maybe a dozen or so seats, upstairs and down.

Off to the Ginza for serious shopping! I had a couple of requests to fill, and the Ginza was just the place for it -- every luxury brand in the world has a flagship-level presence on the Ginza. I was after pencils and soy sauce. Monika wanted to go to the Muji flagship. Also, I was still hungry.

First stop, Itoya, probably the largest (at seven floors and counting) and certainly the fanciest stationery store in Japan. Memory fails at what was on each floor - fancy pens on one, stationery on another - but memory does not fail in recalling where 90% of the people were: the cheap pen and, yes, pencil floor. Truly an OMG experience, we navigated through the madness of pen-samplers of every order (ball points, every kind of felt and roller tip, every color, all being sampled by somebody, everybody! Finally we found a shelf of pencils, relatively devoid of Samplers (because there were no pencils open to "try") and made my selection. Unfortunately this was the same floor that had the cartridge ink Monika needed, so back we went into the thicket and managed to find our way to the ink. Mission Accomplished.

Still hungry. Off to Muji. Again, flagship, lots of floors. Monika went to women's. I went to men's. She ultimately bought a stick of sandalwood perfume. I bought nothing. More hungry. Did you know that the Muji Flagship has a restaurant? They do! They also had salmon and dill lasagne, for which we luxuriously placed two orders. We've never had that may have been said. What came to the table DID taste good. Did it look like the lasagne anyone might think of when presented with the word lasagne? In a way it did. It had lasagne noodles, two, one top and one bottom, and in between it had filling - salmon flakes, a hint of dill, and béchamel sauce. A flat lasagne, let's call it. Filling? You guess.

Finally, Mitsukoshi, a cousin, a fancy cousin, of the store we visited our first day in Tokyo. We got the tip that good soy sauce can usually be found in the basement of department stores, so in we went. To the third basement! Such is the Ginza. Not content with just one basement... The woman I asked about "special" soy sauce understood my question as "Where is the soy sauce I'm standing right in front of?" And once again my lack of Japanese did not do me any favors. I tried Google Translate but not much progress. With perseverance, and remembering I had to pack this stuff out, we made a selection and moved on to head back to the hotel.

Scheisswetter, 7-11 Breakfast, Tokyo Museum of Photographic Art (TOP Museum), The Final Toilets for this Trip, A FLOWERING CHERRY TREE! - Day 20 - Sunday, March 16

Eight degrees (Celsius) and raining is Monika's idea of the most horrible weather. Such was today. We'd seen it on the weather app and made a plan. We would visit the Tokyo Museum of Photographic Art or TOP Museum, a pretty good acronym, for an exhibition entitled War. I was particularly attracted to this exhibition for two reasons. First, plain and simple, Robert Capa was a great photographer, and that's about all I knew. The second reason was one of those silly things. When Robert Capa landed in Normandy on D-Day his camera was a Contax II. The camera I purchased in Kanazawa was a Contax IIa, the successor to the II. I was curious what kind of photos I could look forward to taking, minus the immediate exposure to death and the lack of disciplined training in the field, of course.

But before we could execute our plan we would need breakfast and we had no food in the room. Strangely, I was hungry. Generally business do not open until 10 or 11 but a reliable exception is 7-11, which happened to be close to the Sotetsu Fresa Ueno. They also happen to have a reliable selection of breakfast food, which is the same as the food for lunch and dinner. We chose onigiri, sticky rice balls, and decided to do some rapid-fire furtive public eating (frowned upon) huddled in a somewhat less visible corned just outside the store. I was hungry, as I have repeatedly said, and ate the sticky rice too quickly. It did its job and stuck to my throat. Whatever public shame I might have felt about eating in public diminished significantly while I pursued my next throat-clearing operations in public. I survived, as did Japan, not much worse for the shame.

The TOP Museum, a 45-minute subway ride away (like every other Tokyo destination), did not disappoint. One hundred and forty Capa photos from the Spanish Civil War, the French Occupation and Liberation, the Normandy and Tunisia and Italy and Belgian invasions, the Second Sino-Japanese War, and finally the IndoChina (French war in Vietnam and Laos) War where he was killed stepping on a landmine. Texts were brief and clear, describing the significance of the moment captured in each photo. All black and white prints, cream mat board, brown frames. And the photos just dynamite. We bought hard-bound, Japanese-language catalog if anyone is interested in taking a look.

Ate some lunch in the TOP café, took in a second exhibition briefly, then back out into the same weather. But more wind. Destination? After a bit of conversation about the weather, several dance steps around the should-we/should-we-not floor, we decided to go. Yes, more Tokyo Toilets! Checked four more off our list! My favorite had the roofline of an old Japanese house and was close to a playground with a big octopus slide, giving rise the name Octopus Park. The park also had two beautiful cherry trees in full bloom! Number of people there to enjoy them? Two! Amazing!

For a final dinner in Japan we wanted to reprise our most enjoyable Tokyo meal: tonkatsu (pork-bone broth) ramen at Ramen Street, Tokyo Station. Now fearless, intrepid, hungry, we whizzed through Tokyo Station, right through the throngs of humanity in Character Street (shops and walkways FULL of anime fans), down Ramen Street and into Tonkatsu line. Had a bit of trouble figuring out the vending machine, got help from a Japanese machine-veteran, (it wants cash BEFORE the selection), got our tickets, waited five minutes in line, and in! Teriyaki pork for me, black garlic with pork for Monika, both happy.

One more shopping to go. Back to Character Street and into the masses, in search of the Ghibli shop, which turned out to surprisingly elusive. Eventually we found it, its line, and its merchandise, made the grab, and headed back to Sotetsu Fresa Ueno for a solid couple of hours' sleep.

Homeward Bound: Three Subways, One Domestic Flight, One International, One Bus, One Bus, Bed - Day 21 - Monday, March 17

It all started innocently enough. We had packed the night before, taking our time to arrange everything very carefully so that the not-too numerous items we had collected and purchased (specifically for their flatness and compatibility with our carry-on luggage) would still allow our backpacks and other bags to close. Big check mark!

We got out of bed, through the morning routines, dressed, saddled up and out the hotel in plenty of time to make our domestic flight at Haneda Airport to Osaka, where we would have about three hours or so to kill before the flight to LAX. Why such a long layover? they wondered. The subway connections were less than clear and could have easily gone very wrong but for the help of a man Monika had previously asked whether we were getting on the right train. He motioned yes so we got on, as did he, and rode blissfully on to Haneda Airport. But at the next stop, the man frantically motioned us off the train. We looked dubious. He insisted. And we obeyed. Thank you to one more of the anonymous kind and helpful Japanese people we've encountered every step through this country! We got onto the next train which was the one actually headed to Haneda.

At the airport things got just a bit more complicated. I had six rolls of shot film to hand-inspect (no x-ray) and the kind gentleman at airport security immediately understood what I wanted. No yelling, no questioning of motives. Understood. Film? Hand-inspect. But - what about film cameras? Ah, yes, indeed I did have film cameras, now counting three, all carefully packed in a camera bag under even more carefully packed gifts and assorted odds and ends that I needed for the plane. I have to get those out?Yes.You might be able to imagine the havoc, the panic that would be ensuing at LAX or JFK. NONE of that. Take your time. There's no rush. Clearly I am in a different land! Still, I forgot to take off my boots (which need to come off because they are BOOTS not ordinary shoes) and was given one final pair of undersized slippers to wear through the metal detector. But -- there was no rush, no problem, no people behind me. Easy. I was asked to demonstrate that the cameras functioned by taking pictures of the floor, which, because there was no film in the cameras, did not feel wasteful.