Japan thinks I'm secretly French too (Part III)

[timeripple]

Have you read The Tough Guide to Fantasyland? You should read The Tough Guide to Fantasyland. It is hysterical and generally accurate about a number of fantasy cliches, and also by Dianna Wynne Jones, which should sell you on it even if you somehow passed up “hysterical” and “generally accurate.”

It also contains a few useful observations about travel, be it in Fantasyland or otherwise. For example, The Tough Guide to Fantasyland has this to say about WEATHER:

WEATHER is always wrong for what you are doing at the time. It varies from heat/drought if you must travel quickly, to heavy rain if you need just to travel. If you need to sleep rough, there is always a frost; invariably, if you have to cross MOUNTAINS, there will be a thunderstorm or a blizzard. Some of the reason for this is that, despite obvious drawbacks, the Management nearly always arranges for Tours to set out in late autumn or early winter... The rest is natural perversity.

It has this to say about BATHS:

BATH is something all Tourists crave for quite soon. After very few days of slogging along in all weathers and sleeping in your clothes, you will be ready to kill for a Bath. You will crave to wash your hair. The Management is reasonable on this issue. Before long, you will find either a deep POOL in a RIVER of icy water ... or an INN with a heated bathhouse.

And finally, on the subject of BIRDS:

There are remarkably few Birds in Fantasyland, either in WOODS or on moorland. The reason is probably that, when any bird is seen, if is promptly shot by a Tourist desperate for something else to eat besides STEW.



January 6: I had stocked up on energy jelly at the train station conbini, and could thus revive myself throughout the day. We went to Kiyomizudera. We walked through the old, traditional, super-exclusive section of Kyoto, halfway up a mountain, and past the ubiquitous tourist shops to this huge, amazing Buddhist temple. Kiyomizudera!

It was incredible. The trees on the mountainside were so beautiful in the light. We walked around, drank the water and made a wish, and got lunch at this udon shop within the temple grounds. (It was automatically vegetarian. Yay!) The little old waitress ladies thought we were adorable and were highly amused by our chopstick proficiency. Then they asked if we were French.

I cracked up.

This was perhaps not the response they were expecting. But I should perhaps explain that wherever I go, random people tend to walk up to me and ask if I’m French. Boston, LA (well, Random Dude thought I was more generally European), and now halfway up a mountain in Japan.

Rachel speculated that it was my coat, which is rather well-cut if I do say so myself.

We made it back down the mountain without incident, unless you count buying little mochi balls on a stick with sauce, because saying “mochi” within earshot of Rachel is like saying “Worm” to a Kamen Rider or “brains” to a zombie or “chocolate” or "books" (or, now, “energy jelly”) to me. One of the tourist shops had little things and knick-knacks made out of kimono scraps, which I deemed Notably Cool.

That afternoon we ninjaed our way through the train system to Osaka, where we walked around and met up with a friend of Rachel’s and took purikura. (They turned out adorable, but we have the slightly manic look of people who are utterly exhausted but also hyper thanks to a high of sugar, energy jelly, and Kansai fashion. Except for the sleepy-pose picture, in which we just look exhausted.) We ate more fried mochi and things. We walked around the covered shopping streets and saw a Bae Yong Joon cutout advertising an optical store. (Yonsamaaaa!) We walked through a Johnny's store. We stood in front of a traffic camera display screen, which put cartoon heads on random passersby.

Oh, Japan.

Finally we dropped Rachel’s friend off at Yamapi’s solo concert, which just happened to be in town that night, and walked around the back to Osaka Castle. We didn’t go all the way up-- it was late and just about closing time-- but we crossed two of the three moats and climbed some stairs and took pictures of the castle all lighted up. It was very pretty. I briefly considered posing on the bridge, but decided it would look silly since I wasn’t a heartbroken umbrella vendor in a movie about an aspiring samurai.

On the way back, we bought and were given free delicious cream-filled festival food things. I’m not entirely clear on why there were festival booths next to Yamapi’s concert, or whether the two were even related, but anyway the festival food was tasty.

Back in downtown Osaka, we met up with Rachel’s former pupil R, who was absolutely lovely to hang out with. Dinner: okonomiyaki! I have been curious about okonomiyaki ever since watching Ranma 1/2 in college. It’s like a cabbage-and-egg pancake, with whatever extras added on top. Okonomiyaki has a very distinct sauce, and I think it’s probably an acquired taste. I ate everything, and I think I enjoyed it, but it was a very strange taste that I had no way of being prepared for.

Back to Kyoto, collapse. It was a long day. Sweet, sweet futons!

January 7: We bade a fond farewell to Kyoto and its legendary futons. R, intrepid driver, brave of soul and true of heart, drove us through a blizzard across the mountains to the Sea of Japan and Amenohashidate. I practiced my Japanese on R throughout the day, which she took in good humor (especially considering that my Japanese that day was limited to variations on arigatou and dame desu!) She quickly learned to take in stride exchanges such as the following:

R: *turns on CD player*
ME: Ahhh-- I know this song! Ayaka! *sings along*
R & RACHEL: EHH?
RACHEL: Why do you even know that?
ME (sheepishly): Theme song to Absolute Boyfriend.
RACHEL: Dramas. I should have known.

You can learn a lot from dramas. As I explained over dinner that evening, waving my buffet chopsticks for emphasis, the advantage to learning a language solely through dramas and music is that you pick up stuff at real speed. None of this learning grammar and then being unable to understand a single word of a movie *coughhighschoolspanishcough* business. I don’t know much, but what I do know I know at any speed.

It’s very important to know if somebody’s just called you a moron, even if they’re speaking really fast.

We landed in a little town full of pine trees, where it was raining and there was water dripping off everything and I loved it. From there, we walked two kilometers across the landbridge that is called the Bridge of Heaven. It was gorgeous, especially when it stopped raining.

On the other side, we hiked and then rode a tram-thing up the mountain to the viewing station. You’re supposed to stand at designated places and look at the Bridge of Heaven through your legs upside-down, at which point the name makes sense. Rachel bent over backwards instead, because she is Irish. I just looked the normal way.

We took the ferry back. Because she is insane obsessed with birds, Rachel bought birdfood to throw to the seagulls trailing the ferry. The common gull (Larus canus), as it turns out, is R’s nemesis. She hid behind me while Rachel cackled unsympathetically and cooed over the seagulls. The very ordinary, loud, uncouth seagulls.

I wearily snapped a picture.

One of the mysterious things about Japan is that sometimes the place where you have delicious tofu udon for lunch also has an indoor hot spring.

Back across the mountains (no longer blizzarding) for strange but tasty buffet and a fond farewell to R.

We took the train to Nara, where everyone rides bikes. Our ryokan wasn’t as nice as the one in Kyoto (futonsssssssss), but at this point neither of us cared.

And so to sleep.

To Be Continued (but not much longer)

Comments

[snowqueenofhoth.livejournal.com]

HEEEEEEEEEE. *LOOLLL*

[timeripple.livejournal.com]

♥