Day 3
Today we had to do the painstakingly awful rigmarole of breakfast again. Sitting, surrounded by all happy chirpy families, talking about the events of their trips, both past and future. It'd be lovely at any other part of the day, aside from when you'd be much happier dreaming away beneath the blankets. The plan for today was to see the Fushimi Inari-Taisha (the big orange gates off Memoirs of a Geisha) along with seeing a Golden Temple before having another go at finding the Gion Walking Tour (of where the Geikos live).
We set off with all manner of gay abandon south-bound towards the Fushimi Inari-Taisha shrine. It was during this time we got our first taste of public transport in Japan. It's confusing. Some lines are shown on some maps and some aren't. I don't know who thought that would be a good idea, but they're an idiot. Anyways, we found our way to the shrine with relative ease, due largely to the fact that we're well-travelled all-knowing wanderers of the East. At the main entrance to the shrine a man asked me if I'd take a picture of him. I made a joke about walking off with his phone but he didn't understand (at least that it was a joke) so I just took the photo and he took his phone and walked off pretty sharpish. Walking up the OCD-ly neat main walkway (driveway really) to another set of massive gates. Just off to the left of Massive Gates 2: The Gates Strike Back there was a little pond/water fountain piece. We saw people walking over to it so thought we'd have a gander. On closer inspection it was used by people to wash their hands and mouths out. There were two large wooden containers of water with a stone drainage system all around it. People would use large sticks with little bowls on the end to pour the water into their hands and their mouths. The Turtle was well up for it, I was less excited. I washed my hands but I wasn't putting a stick/bowl contraption that could well have just had some snotty kid that had come to be healed slobbering all over it near my face; it repulsed me no end. What's wrong with a hand sanitiser and some Listerine??
The midday heat bore down on us with little reprieve as we sought shelter under the Massive Gates 3: Return of the Massive Gates. It was by these gates we saw some people ringing bells and clapping before doing a little prayer. I'd like to have known where such a ritual came from. Without knowing much of the religion it seems as if they're more just trying to get their God's attention. Suppose it's only fair. If we have to deal with Jehovah Witnesses ringing bells he's got Shinto fellas doing similar. Behind Gate 3 we also found a wall where people had left tiny gate replicas (which couldn't have been any larger than six inches tall) on hooks all along the wall. People had left the usual drivel, such as "Greetings from USA!!", "I wish all the sick would get better right away", "Good will and hope will set you free". I wanted to get one and write "I wish no bollockpain on anyone" as a nice message for all. Turtle said she'd advice against it, using her "Go on, try it Punk" stare. I didn't have a pen on me, otherwise I definitely would have... Or definitely thought about doing it some more...
On our way up some more immaculately well-kept steps, despite our nativeness to these lands, we came over all stupid touristish and ended up buying our own Yukatas for a far too expensive price. We continued up some steps and came to the main event: The big orange gates. There were absolutely millions of them, winding off into the forest, up and over hills. We spent a good forty minutes walking past slower, less able, tourist groups and soaking in as much of the scenery as possible. The trail of gates went on for absolute miles but given our rather hectic schedule we concluded that after nearly three quarters of an hour of gates, we'd probably seen all the gates we'd needed to see and made a quick dash back to the train station. Outside the train station we stopped at a shop and got a bottle of what we believed to be orange juice because we were both comprehensively parched. Despite this Christian Aid appeal level of thirst, we didn't finish the juice because it was absolutely disgusting. I have no idea what fruit makes juice as impossibly unpalatable but I've had bad relationships with less bitter aftertastes. Think I'll stick to water next time.
After valiantly forging a path through downtown Kyoto, which definitely did not include me falling asleep with my face up against the window, we arrived at Kinkakuji Temple, otherwise known as the Golden Temple. We weren't disappointed. It was in a secluded area on the outskirts of Kyoto surrounded on three side by deep green rolling hills
and a small lake protruding from the feet of the landscape nicely in front of the temple. It would have been lovely if approximately 45 million tourists hadn't been hogging all the nice view spots. Nevertheless we tried to keep our distance from the rowdy crowds of excitable subcontinental Asians, the Japanese exploring their own culture and history, and the Americans screaming "OH WHADDA FANTASTIC PHOTO OP" every other millisecond whilst halting the progress of the masses and deathglaring any foe who dared to walk past the aging chubbies as they tried to take their photos.
The Turtle and I made good progress until we came to a little alcove in the lake where we saw some Koi carp. At this moment I feel it appropriate to attest to knowing literally nothing of Japanese culture, especially with regards to what animals are seen as sacred and what religious beliefs they may withhold. APPARENTLY the Koi carp is seen more as a pet and a symbol of friendship or something in Japanese culture. It should also be noted that English speaking people in Japan are a lot more common than in Korea. As a result of living in Korea, I've become accustomed to making crude jokes, often talking about people in the room "Jesus, what's wrong with her face?!" and nobody bats an eyelid because I'm just being foreign and indecipherable. In Japan, they know what you're saying.
Anyways, we got quite a nice spot in this quiet corner of the lake, we watched the Koi splash about in the shallow waters just beneath our feet as we stood next to a mother and her two young children. I thought they (the fish, not the mother and kids) looked quite fat
with a decent amount of meat on them, so without thinking, I commented that they "looked delicious". The mother of the children turned to me with a complete look of surprise and horror and repeated "Delicious?!" with a rather highly raised intonation. At this point I could see the Turtle absolutely die of embarrassment. Before I could dig myself any deeper she promptly told us we should "probably move on", which was probably a very good idea.
After destroying some more American photos we made our way around and came to the exit of the little walk. It was another beautifully serene place, it's just a shame it didn't feel like it.
A quick relaxation period in our room and we were off again, on our way due south east to the area of Kyoto known as Gion, the hope of potentially finding the Walking Tour we'd so massively failed at just 24 hours previously. We found them with ease. A rather international bunch led by a woman called Mary or Molly (I couldn't tell, she even said it like three times, I still had no idea). We walked around much the same route as we had done the day previous whilst trying to actually find the tour, which made me feel like I knew a little bit more than everyone else. Getting a decent bit of background knowledge of the history of the area, the culture and the rise to prominence of the whole Geiko community was fascinating. What was less wonderful was actually being part of such a big, very obviously touristic, group. I truly hated being part of such a big group of people who were herded around much like sheep, just saying the same "wwooowww that's fantaaaastic" and "PHOTO OP" whilst intruding into people's personal lives with a 8x zoom. It was made worse by the fact there was a really stupid person in the tour who asked too many questions. Questions that need not be asked if one has even the slightest hint of common sense. Nay, I'd go one further; questions that one need not ask if one has not yet been lobotomized. The tour lasted about 1 hour forty minutes, but it probably should have only been about twenty five had we have avoided dragging round that human spanner. My least favourite moment came when a Geiko walked past the group and Molly/Mary immediately burst into the loudest whisper I've ever heard that we should all take pictures. And like gawping zombies most of us did.
Overall though it was very pretty and the tour was actually quite interesting, just a bit awkward.
We walked back into the main part of Kyoto on a promise of some wonderful sushi from a restaurant we'd seen high praise for on the internet. After a good while of looking, we had no luck and asked a passing business man. He showed us the place and it turns out we must have got the wrong name or something, so instead of just leaving it at that and getting on with his day, he walked us a good ten minutes or so to a sushi restaurant he thought would be of excellent quality at a relatively cheap price. What a nice man.
It was my first sushi experience, and I was nervous. I'd only just managed picking bits of fried chicken up with chopsticks and now I was being asked to pick up bits of uncooked fish perched (fish pun count [FPC]: 1) on bits of rice with my sticks! In my mind I was going to cause haddock (FPC: 2) and be asked to leave after ruining the furniture. I didn't know how I was going to manage so I was a little hesitant to enter the plaice (FPC: 3). We were shown to our seats in a booth next to the conveyor belt of oceanic goods. Looking up at the assorted buffet upon us, I codn't (FPC: 4) believe the variety on offer. There was green stuff, blue stuff, red stuff, pink stuff, all manner of stuff! I decided to play safe and went for a salmon mayo arrangement. After two or three of those I became more adventurous and got some other stuff, including some outrageously spicy things. Once we'd got trout (FPC: 5) of there we both agreed that we'd had a halibut (FPC: 6) time and that we should head back to the hotel and use the baths.
I am now at wizard level with Asian bathing. I washed, scrubbed and rinsed everything like an absolute pro before waltzing over to the roasting pit of bubbliness. It was a lot hotter than I remembered it being and consequently had to do a little bouncing act as the water levels rose up my legs to the sensitive regions to try and acclimatize myself as quickly as possible whilst refraining from turning my goolies into third degree burnies.
Went back to Earl's Bar and Restaurant to drink Pimms.
Today was good.
We set off with all manner of gay abandon south-bound towards the Fushimi Inari-Taisha shrine. It was during this time we got our first taste of public transport in Japan. It's confusing. Some lines are shown on some maps and some aren't. I don't know who thought that would be a good idea, but they're an idiot. Anyways, we found our way to the shrine with relative ease, due largely to the fact that we're well-travelled all-knowing wanderers of the East. At the main entrance to the shrine a man asked me if I'd take a picture of him. I made a joke about walking off with his phone but he didn't understand (at least that it was a joke) so I just took the photo and he took his phone and walked off pretty sharpish. Walking up the OCD-ly neat main walkway (driveway really) to another set of massive gates. Just off to the left of Massive Gates 2: The Gates Strike Back there was a little pond/water fountain piece. We saw people walking over to it so thought we'd have a gander. On closer inspection it was used by people to wash their hands and mouths out. There were two large wooden containers of water with a stone drainage system all around it. People would use large sticks with little bowls on the end to pour the water into their hands and their mouths. The Turtle was well up for it, I was less excited. I washed my hands but I wasn't putting a stick/bowl contraption that could well have just had some snotty kid that had come to be healed slobbering all over it near my face; it repulsed me no end. What's wrong with a hand sanitiser and some Listerine??
The midday heat bore down on us with little reprieve as we sought shelter under the Massive Gates 3: Return of the Massive Gates. It was by these gates we saw some people ringing bells and clapping before doing a little prayer. I'd like to have known where such a ritual came from. Without knowing much of the religion it seems as if they're more just trying to get their God's attention. Suppose it's only fair. If we have to deal with Jehovah Witnesses ringing bells he's got Shinto fellas doing similar. Behind Gate 3 we also found a wall where people had left tiny gate replicas (which couldn't have been any larger than six inches tall) on hooks all along the wall. People had left the usual drivel, such as "Greetings from USA!!", "I wish all the sick would get better right away", "Good will and hope will set you free". I wanted to get one and write "I wish no bollockpain on anyone" as a nice message for all. Turtle said she'd advice against it, using her "Go on, try it Punk" stare. I didn't have a pen on me, otherwise I definitely would have... Or definitely thought about doing it some more...
On our way up some more immaculately well-kept steps, despite our nativeness to these lands, we came over all stupid touristish and ended up buying our own Yukatas for a far too expensive price. We continued up some steps and came to the main event: The big orange gates. There were absolutely millions of them, winding off into the forest, up and over hills. We spent a good forty minutes walking past slower, less able, tourist groups and soaking in as much of the scenery as possible. The trail of gates went on for absolute miles but given our rather hectic schedule we concluded that after nearly three quarters of an hour of gates, we'd probably seen all the gates we'd needed to see and made a quick dash back to the train station. Outside the train station we stopped at a shop and got a bottle of what we believed to be orange juice because we were both comprehensively parched. Despite this Christian Aid appeal level of thirst, we didn't finish the juice because it was absolutely disgusting. I have no idea what fruit makes juice as impossibly unpalatable but I've had bad relationships with less bitter aftertastes. Think I'll stick to water next time.
and a small lake protruding from the feet of the landscape nicely in front of the temple. It would have been lovely if approximately 45 million tourists hadn't been hogging all the nice view spots. Nevertheless we tried to keep our distance from the rowdy crowds of excitable subcontinental Asians, the Japanese exploring their own culture and history, and the Americans screaming "OH WHADDA FANTASTIC PHOTO OP" every other millisecond whilst halting the progress of the masses and deathglaring any foe who dared to walk past the aging chubbies as they tried to take their photos.
The Turtle and I made good progress until we came to a little alcove in the lake where we saw some Koi carp. At this moment I feel it appropriate to attest to knowing literally nothing of Japanese culture, especially with regards to what animals are seen as sacred and what religious beliefs they may withhold. APPARENTLY the Koi carp is seen more as a pet and a symbol of friendship or something in Japanese culture. It should also be noted that English speaking people in Japan are a lot more common than in Korea. As a result of living in Korea, I've become accustomed to making crude jokes, often talking about people in the room "Jesus, what's wrong with her face?!" and nobody bats an eyelid because I'm just being foreign and indecipherable. In Japan, they know what you're saying.
with a decent amount of meat on them, so without thinking, I commented that they "looked delicious". The mother of the children turned to me with a complete look of surprise and horror and repeated "Delicious?!" with a rather highly raised intonation. At this point I could see the Turtle absolutely die of embarrassment. Before I could dig myself any deeper she promptly told us we should "probably move on", which was probably a very good idea.
After destroying some more American photos we made our way around and came to the exit of the little walk. It was another beautifully serene place, it's just a shame it didn't feel like it.
A quick relaxation period in our room and we were off again, on our way due south east to the area of Kyoto known as Gion, the hope of potentially finding the Walking Tour we'd so massively failed at just 24 hours previously. We found them with ease. A rather international bunch led by a woman called Mary or Molly (I couldn't tell, she even said it like three times, I still had no idea). We walked around much the same route as we had done the day previous whilst trying to actually find the tour, which made me feel like I knew a little bit more than everyone else. Getting a decent bit of background knowledge of the history of the area, the culture and the rise to prominence of the whole Geiko community was fascinating. What was less wonderful was actually being part of such a big, very obviously touristic, group. I truly hated being part of such a big group of people who were herded around much like sheep, just saying the same "wwooowww that's fantaaaastic" and "PHOTO OP" whilst intruding into people's personal lives with a 8x zoom. It was made worse by the fact there was a really stupid person in the tour who asked too many questions. Questions that need not be asked if one has even the slightest hint of common sense. Nay, I'd go one further; questions that one need not ask if one has not yet been lobotomized. The tour lasted about 1 hour forty minutes, but it probably should have only been about twenty five had we have avoided dragging round that human spanner. My least favourite moment came when a Geiko walked past the group and Molly/Mary immediately burst into the loudest whisper I've ever heard that we should all take pictures. And like gawping zombies most of us did.
Overall though it was very pretty and the tour was actually quite interesting, just a bit awkward.
We walked back into the main part of Kyoto on a promise of some wonderful sushi from a restaurant we'd seen high praise for on the internet. After a good while of looking, we had no luck and asked a passing business man. He showed us the place and it turns out we must have got the wrong name or something, so instead of just leaving it at that and getting on with his day, he walked us a good ten minutes or so to a sushi restaurant he thought would be of excellent quality at a relatively cheap price. What a nice man.
It was my first sushi experience, and I was nervous. I'd only just managed picking bits of fried chicken up with chopsticks and now I was being asked to pick up bits of uncooked fish perched (fish pun count [FPC]: 1) on bits of rice with my sticks! In my mind I was going to cause haddock (FPC: 2) and be asked to leave after ruining the furniture. I didn't know how I was going to manage so I was a little hesitant to enter the plaice (FPC: 3). We were shown to our seats in a booth next to the conveyor belt of oceanic goods. Looking up at the assorted buffet upon us, I codn't (FPC: 4) believe the variety on offer. There was green stuff, blue stuff, red stuff, pink stuff, all manner of stuff! I decided to play safe and went for a salmon mayo arrangement. After two or three of those I became more adventurous and got some other stuff, including some outrageously spicy things. Once we'd got trout (FPC: 5) of there we both agreed that we'd had a halibut (FPC: 6) time and that we should head back to the hotel and use the baths.
I am now at wizard level with Asian bathing. I washed, scrubbed and rinsed everything like an absolute pro before waltzing over to the roasting pit of bubbliness. It was a lot hotter than I remembered it being and consequently had to do a little bouncing act as the water levels rose up my legs to the sensitive regions to try and acclimatize myself as quickly as possible whilst refraining from turning my goolies into third degree burnies.
Went back to Earl's Bar and Restaurant to drink Pimms.
Today was good.
Day 4
Did the same miserable breakfast shite. Had the diced egg and some tiny sausages whilst trying to make sure blinks didn't evolve into tiny naptimes. Today the plan was to mosey on down to the Nishiki Market before dallying up to the Philosopher's Walk.
The thing I first noticed about the market was that large portions of it smelt like socks during a particularly bad dose of fungal infection. It wasn't conducive to browsing. The closer to the centre of the market we got, though, the more things opened up and stopped making me wish sinusitis upon myself. An assortment of shops ranging from those selling high-end bags to gypsy traders selling tourist tat to those seeing Kyoto for the first time. I cannot comment on whether or not I bought relatives' Christmas or birthday gifts in the latter section of this market. We bought the Turtle a couple of quite nice rucksacks as she's now a Tour De Korea contender and her basket just isn't big enough for a decent bunch of bananas (steady now) let alone any proper shopping. She seemed happy so all was well.
After a mild but entirely expected issue with public transport I.E. the bus driver didn't want to let us on, we taxi'd our way over, somewhat ironically to the Philosopher's Walk. One thing that really miffs my nuggets is the fact that Japanese maps won't necessarily point north; and if they don't they'll seldom make it clear which direction is up. As a result of this bloody madness I got irate and suggested we stop for lunch before we'd started. A beer and some wonderful pizza later, accompanied by some sun-position judging and intensive map scouring, we found the walk. We'd already been on it, at least part of it anyways, whilst finding a map to tell us where it was. It was basically a path that ran parallel to a little stream along the north eastern outskirts of Kyoto. As it was a 'philosopher's walk after all, I kept quiet and contemplative. I was philosophising. Some highlights include:
He who scrambles may not dunk the soldiers.
He who does not sleep much can not dream well, nor can they get the required REM cycles required to feel perky the next morning.
He who eats the jam does not leave the bread.
A laptop is like a tray for those without WiFi.
When a man peels onions, he will cry. When a woman has a baby, she will cry. Peeling onions and having babies are the same.
He who cooks the pizza twice burns the pizza. Don't eat at his house, he can't cook.
Those who look to the stars for inspiration, may walk into doors accidentally.
He who wishes to be a she, may tuck it betwixt his legs and just pretend that his name's Barbara.
By the end of the walk the Turtle seemed quite relieved just to be going back to the hotel, I have no idea why though. The walk itself, or what I noticed of it when I wasn't being all wisdomic and stuff, was actually really nice. It was a very peaceful part of town and it was just pleasantly understated, which is definitely not something Korea has cottoned onto just yet.
It was our last evening in Kyoto tonight. So what did we do? Did we go traditional sushi place? Did we go Kobe beef? No and no. We went to Earl's Bar and Restaurant. Why? Because they did a Sunday Roast on Saturdays and Sundays. It was glorious. Whilst the absence of Yorkshire puddings was a heavy blow, it nevertheless transported me back to dinnertime at the Carr residence. The potatoes weren't quite as nice as Papa Carr's, but they were still rather pleasing. We were given a free plate of chips before our mains because we'd been such loyal customers. I think the real reason we were given anything was to make us feel better after being told the awful news that we'd drank all their Pimms. A night on the cocktails wasn't a bad way to round off our time in Kyoto though, all things considered.
The thing I first noticed about the market was that large portions of it smelt like socks during a particularly bad dose of fungal infection. It wasn't conducive to browsing. The closer to the centre of the market we got, though, the more things opened up and stopped making me wish sinusitis upon myself. An assortment of shops ranging from those selling high-end bags to gypsy traders selling tourist tat to those seeing Kyoto for the first time. I cannot comment on whether or not I bought relatives' Christmas or birthday gifts in the latter section of this market. We bought the Turtle a couple of quite nice rucksacks as she's now a Tour De Korea contender and her basket just isn't big enough for a decent bunch of bananas (steady now) let alone any proper shopping. She seemed happy so all was well.
After a mild but entirely expected issue with public transport I.E. the bus driver didn't want to let us on, we taxi'd our way over, somewhat ironically to the Philosopher's Walk. One thing that really miffs my nuggets is the fact that Japanese maps won't necessarily point north; and if they don't they'll seldom make it clear which direction is up. As a result of this bloody madness I got irate and suggested we stop for lunch before we'd started. A beer and some wonderful pizza later, accompanied by some sun-position judging and intensive map scouring, we found the walk. We'd already been on it, at least part of it anyways, whilst finding a map to tell us where it was. It was basically a path that ran parallel to a little stream along the north eastern outskirts of Kyoto. As it was a 'philosopher's walk after all, I kept quiet and contemplative. I was philosophising. Some highlights include:He who scrambles may not dunk the soldiers.
He who does not sleep much can not dream well, nor can they get the required REM cycles required to feel perky the next morning.
He who eats the jam does not leave the bread.
A laptop is like a tray for those without WiFi.
When a man peels onions, he will cry. When a woman has a baby, she will cry. Peeling onions and having babies are the same.
He who cooks the pizza twice burns the pizza. Don't eat at his house, he can't cook.
Those who look to the stars for inspiration, may walk into doors accidentally.
He who wishes to be a she, may tuck it betwixt his legs and just pretend that his name's Barbara.
By the end of the walk the Turtle seemed quite relieved just to be going back to the hotel, I have no idea why though. The walk itself, or what I noticed of it when I wasn't being all wisdomic and stuff, was actually really nice. It was a very peaceful part of town and it was just pleasantly understated, which is definitely not something Korea has cottoned onto just yet.
It was our last evening in Kyoto tonight. So what did we do? Did we go traditional sushi place? Did we go Kobe beef? No and no. We went to Earl's Bar and Restaurant. Why? Because they did a Sunday Roast on Saturdays and Sundays. It was glorious. Whilst the absence of Yorkshire puddings was a heavy blow, it nevertheless transported me back to dinnertime at the Carr residence. The potatoes weren't quite as nice as Papa Carr's, but they were still rather pleasing. We were given a free plate of chips before our mains because we'd been such loyal customers. I think the real reason we were given anything was to make us feel better after being told the awful news that we'd drank all their Pimms. A night on the cocktails wasn't a bad way to round off our time in Kyoto though, all things considered.
Day 5
Went to the corner shop, cried because they had loads of delicious cheese. Bought a lot of spices we can't get back in Korea before calling it a day and heading back to the station. We did have a minor incident which involved ending up on the fifth floor of Osaka's train station. Quite why a train station needs so many floors is beyond me. Though our intentions were entirely innocent: we really did just want to get across to the bus station, we did walk in on a rather intimate photo shoot including a very well dressed (in terms of quality of clothing, most definitely not quantity) young Japanese woman and a much older, warmer looking gentleman clutching an undoubtedly quite expensive camera. He looked cross that we'd walked in on their little shoot. Never mind. After making our way back through the station, a place as well sign-posted as Mid-Wales, we made the bus with one minute to go. Feeling like absolute heroes, we settled down and fell asleep until the airport.
Saw a storm cloud from the window of the plane. Terrifying scenes. Squeezed my box of juice and it squirted all over the headrest of the guy in front.
I hate flying.
