Crystal Symphony -- May 1 - 15

Thursday morning, May 1st, we were filled with excitement to be heading to a new cruise line, and a new ship - the Crystal Symphony. We loaded all our worldly (and getting oh so boring and repetitive) goods into a taxi, and headed to the cruise terminal where the ship and 500 of our new best friends awaited us.

For both of us this was a new ship and we were looking forward to exploring every deck, but before we could do this we had to wait on the Lido deck sipping Japanese beers while waiting for our rooms to ready. Right away we met the Crystal Cult. These are the people for whom Crystal is the ONLY way to cruise. They kept telling us that after the next 16 days we'd never go on another liner - ever. The service was impeccable, the staff engaging and the food amazing. And of course the free alcohol, and lack of tacked-on gratuities added to the splendor of it all. People were acknowledging each other, and bragging to each other as they proudly said how many Crystal cruises they had been on. It was like notches on the belt and we felt like the new kids on the block with no notches to speak of.

Here's what I'll say now, having been on board for two weeks: it is true the staff are engaging and their ability to know all our names after only a few interactions is a sign of good training; the food in the main dining room is good, and in the two specialty restaurants (Prego and Silk Road) it is terrific; the almost non-existent need to sign a chit for wine, beer, any cocktail of your choice, specialty coffees, or other amenities is delightful; the cabaret singer-pianist, Mark Farris, who plays in the intimate and dark lounge is delightful; the well-thought-out storage in our cabin is excellent (the bathroom design is the best of any ship we have been on),and the attentiveness of our room stewardess (Eldie) and our breakfast butler (Marvin) - is delightful.

But here's what I'll also say: our fellow passengers - all Crystal Aficionados are a distinctly aging population, with entirely too many walkers and oxygen issues; the entertainment (like Oceania) is well hyped but not great in execution; the stores as on all cruise ships are too expensive; the lecturers (most with a Fox News slant) are somewhat ho-hum; the ship's decor is early Italian rococo and boring; and the freedom of dining at will ("by reservation", as the liner proudly advertises) has not yet been successfully implemented. 

Considering that this is a luxury level cruise line with a clientele who are not worried about the next recession, the whole thing somehow lacks real "class". The surface of elegant dress, and plenty of white linen is there, but it just doesn't compare to the QM2 where the decor, the lectures, the clientele and the ambience reek of true class.

We may be jaded, or we may simply be ready to be home, but we have not yet joined the Crystal Cult. Long and leisurely days at sea are delightful as we stare at endlessly blue waters uninterrupted by other ships; late morning coffee in our cabin is relaxing as we once more advance our clocks and cross the International Date Line and watch CNN on our TV; stopping by The Bistro for a cappuccino, or eating sushi in Silk Road is appealing; and the pure pleasure of having someone serve whatever food whim comes into your head does have its charms (not to mention no cooking duties) but I think we will return to this cruise line based purely on itinerary - and NOT because it is the ONLY way to cruise.

But having completed my rant, I will acknowledge that our one port of call - Honolulu - after ten days at sea was a pure delight. None of the tours caught our interest since we both know this city fairly well, and have visited the Arizona Memorial site more than a few times. But in this city lives a fellow alumni of University High School in Ann Arbor, class of 1962. His name is David Bailey and he is the owner of the Aloha Shirt Store - an amazing emporium of over 15,000 new and used, historic and colorful, Hawaiian shirts. David himself has led a most storied life with which he is only too ready to regale you. From getting arrested in Russia during the Fisher/Spasky chess match; hitch-hiking across Afghanistan and Iran; selling forged student passes to fellow travelers; teaching English in small villages while living in Buddhist temples; almost winning gliding competitions in Switzerland and almost losing his life when his glider crashed....it was one tale after the other. Somewhere along the road of adventures, having dropped out of numerous institutions of higher learning, David found himself starting this crazy shirt business. And now, 25 years later, he has clientele like Anthony Bourdain, Jimmy Buffett and Nicholas Cage, to mention a few who are walking advertisements for his unique product. His shirts can range from $5000.00 to $ 5.00 and it is hard for us novices to know exactly what makes this range possible. But Bob and I were totally engaged by our two+ hour visit to this wacky place where we purchased some wonderful shirts for summertime wear. And I would tell anyone to stop by - not only because the owner is a wonderful long white-haired, pony-tailed gentle raconteur, but because no where else will the eyes be so wonderfully assaulted by color and design in a store where shirts were crammed into racks, piled in three foot towers on the floor, hanging from the rafters (the high priced goods) and stuck in every nook and cranny. David has cornered this market and while organization seemed lacking, and on-line marketing seemed impossible, it was a pure delight to catch up with someone whom I hadn't seen since 1962 and whose life certainly took a unique and different path.

This visit made our day and to top it off before returning to our ship we sat, for old times sake at the outside bar of the Royal Hawaiian (aka the Pink Palace) and had pina coladas and hamburgers as we watched an infinite variety of people strolling the beaches in front of Waikiki enjoying warm water, sunshine and the laid back world of Honolulu.

And now, as the days count down and the hours advance nightly, our minds turn towards home both with happy anticipation and only a little bit of sadness that this last leg of our Journey is coming to an end.

Last Days in Japan - April 25-30

For those who have been following this blog for the last six years, this is pretty much the last travel entry, just as it was for the boys. They were starting across the Pacific and knew that their last letters would only reach their parents at home long after they had already been welcomed back to Germany. And for us, eighty-five years later things haven't changed much. This is our last blog entry since internet service on the ship when one is mid-ocean is as unreliable as traditional mail was in 1928.

Our last days in Tokyo were filled with new discoveries. Having arrived on a busy Friday right before Golden Week, we found the city filled with Japanese tourists. Golden Week is a series of days starting with the Emperor's birthday and ending with Children's Day (renamed from Boy's Day - when one praised the young men of the family but which is now a very non-PC concept and has thus been re-named). The days in between are a series of 'made up' holidays to force Japanese to take time off from work. It is considered by the government important that workers take time off and so they glued together a week of 'holidays' to encourage families to go out and enjoy the country. For us this was reflected in higher rates at our hotel and crowds everywhere. To join in this melee, Narumi and I went shopping for a gift for Joe: an official cotton kimono or yukata. Of course there are official places to buy these 'robes' along with the obi and other accouterments associated. We went to the men's Kimono shop and then went to a different store in the mall which was the women's Kimono shop to pay our invoice. The whole process of how to wrap the kimono, how to tie the obi, how to place the fan all were part of our learning experience. I made only one faux pas which was to step onto the carpet in front of the mirror (where I wanted to try on the kimono) with my shoes on! Everyone jumped and quickly pulled me off this small green carpet as if I had stepped in front of an on-rushing car. One just plan doesn't soil the carpet in front of the mirror with your street shoes! Ah yes, cleanliness is truly the word to describe this country.

It is amazing. There is practically no litter in a city larger in population than New York City. The streets are immaculate as are all train stations, train platforms, bathrooms, all taxi cars, all stores. To find a wastepaper basket on the street is almost impossible. There are plenty of recycling containers for plastic, but practically none for paper. Like a good doobie, at the end of any day I would un-load all pockets and purses of stray paper wrappers, tissues, ticket stubs, you name it. And of course there are the moist hand towels one receives at the start of any meal and which are left with your table setting until you depart to ensure that your hands are always clean. (Bob and I are trying to figure out how we can keep this concept going in Peacham Vermont).

Narumi and I went on to visit a shrine in the northern part of Tokyo where I wanted to purchase a unique omamori (good luck charm associated with a particular wish you hope will be acknowledged by the gods of that shrine). Then back to the hotel through a maze of subway lines which reminded me of the London Tube where one walks miles below ground to get between different lines. It is so much easier in Tokyo when following someone who actually can read the signs and knows where she's going. Between the crowds of shoppers, crowds in the metro, and crowds in the shrine, one knew it was Golden Week. Our last stop was a return to our favorite sushi restaurant where we collected a nice tower of plates before calling it quits.

To continue following in the footsteps of the boys, our next adventure was a day-long bus tour of Kamakura and Yokohama. We met our 11 other English-speaking tourists and hopped on our bus with Emiko, an entusiastic, energetic tour guide who regaled us with tales as we drove south along Tokyo Bay to our first destination of the day - Hasadera Temple in Kamakura. While the goal was to see the eleven-headed statue of Hase Kannon (from which Canon camera takes its name), Bob and I being templed-out, chose instead to stroll through the gardens and to visit the Benten-kutsu Cave where a series of statues are carved out of the walls of the cave. The cave honors Benzaiten, a sea goddess, and the only female among the seven Lucky Gods of Japan. Her temples are always near water - and thus Kamakura. In the poorly lit path which one took through the cave, one was bent double since the height of the cave was less than four feet. Bob showing a certain intelligence, waited outside for me to return from the depths of hades.

Our next stop, made by the boys, was the Great Buddha or Daibatsu. It is the 2nd largest sitting buddha, only surpassed by the one on Lantau Island near Hong Kong. Along with the zillion Golden Week holiday revelers, and school children who use this week to 'attend' classes by going on school excursions, we took lots of pictures in the lovely warmth of a spring day before heading along the beachfront to our lunch in Yokohama. The problem with most such day tours, is that one must endure lunch which is usually mediocre at best, but which is part of the event. This, quite good, lunch was in Yokohama's Chinatown in a large hotel overlooking the harbor. Our interesting table companions were two young women from Colombia, who are on a Mitsubishi Training Program for three months near Nagoya. They admitted that they are learning little (if English is rarely spoken imagine how much Spanish your average Japanese would know). But an all-expense paid period in Japan was too good to turn down, and so they were taking advantage of everything they could do before returning to their 'real' jobs which awaited them back in South America.

Having finished our eight course Chinese-style/Japanese meal we continued on to tour Chinatown. The Chinese originally came to Japan and settled in the areas where foreigners were allowed to live when the country was opening up to the world at large. Because Chinese were adept at reading Kanji characters (though they could not speak Japanese), they acted as go-betweens to translate for both the Japanese and the westerners who were setting up trade. In the 1923 earthquake that devastated over 95% of Yokohama, many Chinese returned to Canton, then with the war between the two countries the Chinese population dwindled further. There are now less than 4,000 Chinese in Yokohama and the area is much like Chinatown in San Francisco or New York: narrow pedestrian streets lined with ticky-tacky gift shops selling Chinese artifacts and clothing, endless eating establishments, reflexologists ready to relax your body and palm readers scattered below endless 'Chinese' lanterns.

The last tourist site of the day was as beautiful as the first had been. This was the Sankeien Gardens, a 17 hectare (one hectare = 100 acres) plot once owned by a Yokohama Silk merchant who started its construction in 1902 and took 20 years to complete. There were inner gardens for Mr Sankei alone and the outer garden which he opened to the public. There are a series of buildings moved from other locations in Japan including a three-story pagoda and these are dotted throughout the gardens. It was a most restful place to look out on the man-made lake with gardens everywhere. Wisteria, azalea, iris and other plants I didn't know were everywhere. A lovely bride and groom in traditional outfits were being photographed at various spots in the garden, and they were tolerant enough at the end as we left the gardens to pose with some of our fellow bus-mates before going their separate way.... probably laughing at us westerners.

When walking in Chinatown, or the Sankeien gardens, or when looking out at the peaceful harbor, it is easy to forget that a mere 75 years ago we were at war, and that American air attacks were wiping out vast parts of this country - especially Yokohama - which was a critical port for the Japanese, and thus a prime target. Now one drives past the Yokohama Baseball Stadium, the harbor front with its ferris wheels and wind surfers and one can easily be lulled into forgetfulness. It is only the 'newness' which tells the story: Boring bland apartment complexes built in dull boxy shapes; individual houses all looking fairly modern built of stucco or siding; modern bridges spanning various waterways - all new. It is only in parts of Kyoto which was NOT bombed, that one can see the older Japan. But unlike some countries that never recovered after the war, Japan is now the 3rd largest economy in the world in less than 100 years, and the shogun, samurai, and warrior class is gone. It is amazing to think that this very nationalistic, isolationist country has transformed itself in an amazingly short period of time.

One of the things we had observed while dining in Yokohama, was that out in the harbor was a ocean liner that looked very much like the one on which the 'boys' had sailed on when they left Yokohama for Vancouver. We did some googling and found out that the ship was indeed a Japanese liner built in 1929, which crossed the pacific numerous times carrying passengers until it was converted to a hospital ship in 1941. We had to go. The chance to tour the inside of a ship of the period when the boys were having their adventures was almost the perfect ending to our own trip. So the next day, Bob and I took the train back down to Yokohama, walked past the baseball stadium where the Yokohama Baystars were playing to a full Golden Week crowd, and headed for the NYK Hikawa Maru, a 'tangible cultural property' as designated by the City of Yokohama. Here was a totally re-created 1930's era ship, which had been lovingly restored by the NYK shipping company to show the beautiful Art Deco original it once had been. We were able to imagine the boys as they sat in the first class dining saloon, slept in their first class cabin, walked the promenade deck, sat in the smoking room or went up to the bridge to join the captain. Compared to any liner we go on, this one held a total of 280 passengers and a crew of 80 chefs and god knows how many others. Its route was Yokohama to Vancouver, Seattle or San Francisco and many famous actors and actresses, including Charlie Chaplin sailed aboard this ship. It seems that every place we have been in Japan, Charlie Chaplin has been here first.

What a perfect ending. The only ship that comes close to representing this period was the Britannia, in Leith Scotland, and that was for royalty. This was just a normal liner that plied the Pacific Ocean serving people like the boys.

And so our "Journey of Discovery" is coming to a close. Tomorrow we board the Crystal Symphony, with our fellow 1000 passengers and 500 crew, wining and dining our way back to Honolulu, and Los Angeles.

And, one last entry on the blog will tell of our adventures when we return to Peacham in 16 days.

Miyanoshita - April 21-25

Unfortunately the pleasure of being in a mountainous area is that while the views can be breath-taking they can also disappear in mists of fog and rain, and this is what we experienced for the first days. Since the point of visiting here is to go out in nature and view Fuji while hiking, we like many of our fellow travelers spent a good deal of time around the hotel enjoying it's very funky old world charm. German kitsch music playing all day long in the lobby; dark wooden nooks and crannies where old photographs and maps told of the history of this museum; an old-fashioned spirit in all bars tea rooms, and restaurants; lovely ponds and gardens outside every window and memorabilia in every nook and cranny. Everyone who was anyone has stayed here at some point including the same people who went to the Nara hotel....Helen Keller, Charlie Chaplin, the emperor amongst many and Nehru, John & Yoko (with kids), and others who are honored here.

In the lower level (many levels since this whole complex is built into the side of a small mountain), along with the two natural mineral water spa pools full sized swimming pool, and the wedding section, was the history museum of the hotel which we looked at most carefully. It was here that we saw all the registers stored in a locked bookcase...so we knew we'd see those signatures.... which we did when I returned to the front desk. There it was - May 1928 - Herbert Meyer from Leipzig and Walter Maron from Dresden signed in for a visit to room 92 in the hotel. It was a real thrill to see their signatures there after 85 years... and Eerie. I took photographs to bring home as 'proof' of their existence and that was it -- almost the last bit of our re-creation completed with signatures to prove it all.

Our first two nights of our stay we were eating authentic Japanese food in an old inn which was once part of a shogun's estate. We left our shoes and umbrellas at the entrance and were led to a private tatami-matted room where a low table and low chairs were available for us westerners. Our waitress, a beautiful woman who spoke absolutely no English, led us through a series of courses - 10 in all - some outstanding, some not so much to our liking...but this was something we wanted, so we ate it all using our chopsticks correctly, our moist towel correctly (not for neck or head, only for fingers), and felt only slightly self-conscious, though we were the only ones in the room. After two+ hours of changing courses, changing plates, and changing tastes (all carefully documented on the IPhone), we bid our hostess good night and walked back in the rain to our room. The second night was pretty much a repeat of the first except that our lovely hostess had been a three--month exchange student in Seattle and had been to the theater in NYC (she loves singing, and broadway shows). She was more able to explain what we were eating, and how to eat it, and had this most amusing giggle of delight when she and Bob could talk about theater.  

We were supposed to eat Japanese again on the 3rd night, but realized that our love of Japanese cuisine is more that which we get in America: tempura, teppanyaki, sushi and sashimi. We were less enamored of the many tofu-based foods or the other very 'mushy', or 'jellied', foods which we were supposed to relish and to enjoy. So for our last two nights we ate in the French restaurant - or more correctly, the Japanese version of a 'French' restaurant. Here we were in a large cavernous banquet hall which lacked all the charm of our intimate first evenings but which was where the boys would have eaten, and where the apprentice waiters and waitresses could practice their new skills at serving western food. Here too, a set menu was provided as we sat down and in a two hour window we went through all the courses with our fellow Japanese travelers. When you don't have all those changing bowls, plates and steaming servers, plain old china seems almost boring, but the food (while not totally French) was very good.

On the one day that promised sunshine, we hired a touring taxi, and guide, to take us on a ride following what the boys had done in the fog. We drove up and around Lake Ashi with our 'english-speaking' guide whose English was like my Greek - some words, some comprehension, but risky if one went off the main conversation or blank stares are returned. It is the end of cherry blossom time, and the trees are just beginning to bud so we were able to get many views of the lake...but no Mt. Fuji. As we got to the look-out point, and it started to rain again in earnest, our guide with a chuckle pointed to where we should see the famed mountain, and we imagined how splendid it must be since absolutely nothing was to be seen. We stopped at a series of tourist spots - where the cable car began, where the cog railway began, where steam was rising out of volcanic escape holes, and where the lake boat cruises began. This was exactly the same as any tourist mecca in any country: ticket windows, food kiosks, and a million snapping cameras. (We commented on the fact that this reminded us of Lake Como which led us to acknowledge that when traveling, one always finds a reference to sites one has visited in the past, which means that Japanese visiting Lake Como probably think of Lake Ashi.)

The two highlights beyond the lovely landscapes and the non-view of Mt. Fuji were: our stop at a Shinto shrine, supposedly favored by the current emperor, where we dropped a coin, made a wish, bowed, clapped and hoped it would all come true; and a stop at the Meissen Museum. What's the chance that in the mountains of Japan in a small nondescript town, there would be a museum to German porcelain. It was surreal. Here we were recreating the trip of two German boys who ate off of Meissen everyday of their lives and who had come to this remote part of Japan...and here was this museum. Of course we had to stop and I went in to chat with the proprietress - in German! The questions which rise up in the brain are why here, why Meissen, why in Japan. I took their brochure and hoped that some translation work by friends in Tokyo may solve this. But it was a great book-end to the whole trip since we depart the next day back to Tokyo for only a few days before boarding our ship back to America.

This stop was somewhat of a 'bust' because the weather refused to cooperate, but in terms of sensing that we were on the boy's trip it was probably one of the highlights: the same hotel, looking the same; the same geography pretty much unchanged; the names in the register and the Meissen museum....a great wrap-up to what has been a wonderful series of journeys of discovery.

Kyoto to Miyanoshita

Maybe it's turning 70, maybe it's Japan, maybe it's just too much time, but for the last days in Kyoto we were just templed-out. We both knew this would probably be our first and last time in Japan, but visiting another shrine, taking off our shoes, walking around on tatami mats just didn't hold much charm. So we stuck to the outside - the gardens, the bird sanctuary behind our hotel, and lastly a bit of retail therapy.

Our hotel, perhaps a bit out of the mainstream, had the advantage of backing up to a large nature sanctuary and preserve which we explored with pleasure on an overcast day. Then down to the main train station to visit the Isetan Department Store, an ultra-modern 14 level extravaganza. I had no intentions of buying anything, but find that department stores in foreign countries can reflect the things peculiar to that country. At Isetan it was the large display of small towel-ettes (size of a handkerchief) sold on the 1st floor, 8th floor and 11th floor. Why? Because in Japanese public bathrooms, while the toilets are 21st century, and the water dispenses at the wave of a hand, towels are just not 'in'. Instead every man, woman and child carries small towel-ettes with which one dries one hands. If one stands outside any such facility, you see people exiting while carefully folding their towel back into their pocket or purse for the next time. And thus, a popular department store category. And then,of course, all things Kitty were available. (I don't get this whole fad, but then, I'm not Japanese.) But it was the Kimono floor that delighted me most. Here one can buy beautiful fabric to create your own kimono, all manner of obi and clasps laid out with reverence. This is Kyoto afterall where geisha's in their beautiful dresses are a sight to behold. Of course I had to look at the kitchenwares, most of which appeared to be from everywhere but Japan. It would appear that the Japanese shopper, like ourselves, like all things made outside their country. Of course there were all manner of rice cookers, 'standing rice' servers (a paddle like object), and a vast variety of tea accouterments. I love department stores.

Our last days we focused on fine meals with two true standouts. A tempura restaurant called Tempura Endo Yasaka was fabulous. We sat at the counter similar to a sushi restaurant, but behind the counter was the chef putting all manner of fish and vegetables dipped in ethereal light batter into a huge vat of fat. We had a set meal of ten items and with each new thing, the chef or assistant would explain that we were to use salts (green tea salt or sea salt) or sauce. Each course was served on a unique small plate and provided with a very careful description by the chef. We were surrounded by Japanese who watched us as much as we were watching them. Thank god we're skilled chopstick users...it could have been a major embarrassment otherwise.

For my birthday dinner we went to a kobe restaurant which was one of the most romantic sites. It is an unassuming entrance as we walked down a narrow lane to the entry, but once inside, we were led to a window table where we could look out on a stream, and behind that a pedestrian walkway with people staring in at us as we stared out at them. It was an early reservation which allowed us to see everything in daylight before it became dark and lovey lights lit the last of the cherry blossoms, the stream and the walkway. In the background music like that of Bill Charlap was playing. The meal was served in a leisurely, and seemingly endless set of plates: Shrimp, onion soup, salmon & pork, sea bass, warm pate with pineapple, THE steak, and for desert cherry blossom cheese cake. Our concierge had given the restaurant a 'heads-up' about my birthday so that with our desert there was a lovely piece of chocolate with gold writing saying 'happy birthday', and a single small candle. A nice touch to end an absolutely fabulous dinner where with every bite we were grinning. So turning 70 wasn't all that hard, and certainly was a bit exotic.

But now it was time to once more pack our bags to ship them ahead to Miyanoshita. We were less confident of the success of this venture since the clerk responsible for this had nominal English....but we believed in the system. (and it worked). Our train was another Shinkansen that made a few more stops than the one we'd taken from Tokyo, but basically went on the same tracks. Within two hours we found ourselves in rain-soaked Odowara where we re-confirmed our tickets for the return, and hopped in a taxi to our hotel.

Daddy described this exact same journey going on a rainy day through narrow twisty roads through a valley which would lead up a mountain to the resort town where we were staying. This area, known as Hakone is a huge national park and is very popular with Japanese tourists who come to hike, walk around the lakes, and take pictures of Mt. Fuji. The hotel greeted us warmly, and after we explained that 'the boys' had stayed here 87+ years ago, seemed to think they just might find the register signed by Walter and Herbert in 1928. I'm excited about that and will see what happens.

We had read on tripadvisor that this hotel was a step back in time....and that it is. Dark woods, big lounge chairs in a traditional sitting area; wooden staircases sweeping up to upper levels; dark corridors leading to a variety of rooms which looked untouched since the 30's. We were delighted with our old-fashioned room, finding our luggage waiting for us! Here we definitely sense that we are walking in the boy's shoes again. They would recognize everything but the televisions and the modern bathrooms. Our room has a hot spring shower and bath so we can conquer neuritis, neuralgia, arthritis, stomach upset and anything else that might ail us over the next four days. (Or so the sign above the bath promises).

Kyoto - Part 3 - April 17

Thursday we started our last day with Matsui-san, and while he had planned that we would replicate Daddy's trip by taking a funicular up to the top of a small 'mountain'.... the smog lay over the city (Kyoto, being surrounded by mountains, gets many days with less than clear skies) and we saw that there would be no splendid vistas at the top. Instead, we re-arranged our day and started at the Ginkakuji Temple (also known as the Silver Palace) to give the smog a chance to burn off.

The Silver Palace was built by the shogun Ashikaga Yoshimasa who designed it as his retirement villa. He carefully laid out beautiful gardens - from stone, sand and water, built mossy floored woods, long walkways with beautiful shrubs, and paths that led up to viewing spots, and then down to garden areas.

He retreated to this place of calm and beauty, becoming himself a zen buddhist monk. He stated that his villa should remain a zen retreat and so it did. It is called the Silver Palace - to contrast with the Golden Pavilion Temple - another zen buddhist temple in Kyoto built about the same time. 

Yoshimasa initially planned to cover the building with silver foil - thus its name. However, this never was accomplished, and rather one enjoys the reflected light from the silica in the sand gardens, and from the alum-based lacquer used to cover the buildings, which reflects in the sun (a bit). (Actually, It is more a series of brown buildings with white accents looking out on superb gardens.)

Our approach to the temple area was up a gentle incline past shops, many students from a nearby university, and shop keepers. We were fairly early, so crowds had not gathered. We walked through as much of the buildings as we could (though Daddy had seen more of the inside structure), but then, as always we wanted to enjoy the gardens... and leave our shoes on. At every turn or resting spot in this beautifully thought-out retreat, there was something to appreciate: the placement of stones, the raked sand design-work, trees with gnarly trunks, views of the buildings which seemed to float above the trees; and of course....cherry blossoms.

At this point it was as sunny as it was going to get, so while the funicular didn't strike us as a requirement, we did want to see the famous buddhist monastery at the top. So once more we hopped into our trusty Toyota Crown Saloon car and were driven up twisty, narrow roads until we reached the top of the holy mountain - Mt. Hiei. Here there is an enormous world-renowned buddhist complex made up of three unique areas. We were to visit parts of the main one. This monastery complex was the first outpost of the Tendai sect of buddhism built in 700, and while it was razed, warrior buddhists fought for it and to this day it continues as a buddhist sanctuary. As we walked up another incline to the main 'lecture' hall, there were a series of illustrated 'billboards' telling the long history of the monastery. One of the more amazing things we learned was that various monks nicknamed the Marathon Monks have walked around this mountain for a 1000 days of meditation and prayer - with the most recent monk having walked 26 miles a day, jn clusters of over 200 consecutive days - accomplishing the same feat as walking around the Earth.

As we approached one of the buildings, there was a conclave of Zen buddhist monks leaving the building, and posing like a class picture in front of the building. We took pictures (discreetly), and learned that they were honoring a particular monk of 800 years ago. As they descended en masse to the main hall in the complex, we followed behind them until we arrived at the same building where were laid out all their white 'flip flops'. We too took off our shoes, and went in and walked along the viewing gallery looking inside to the buddhist main sanctuary below. Then we climbed back up to where we had started, and went back to our car. I'm sure that it would have helped had we known more about this area...and probably all our buddhist friends will wonder how we couldn't know about this place....but there you have it.

This complex, like others had a HUGE bronze bell, but unlike 'big daddy' in downtown Kyoto, this one was a bit smaller and for a small donation we mortals were able to strike the bell with the huge 'battering ram' piece of wood. But it is to be struck only once... not a minor feat when swinging a very heavy piece of wood which when it gains momentum, wants to hit its mark more than once. I captured a great photograph of Bob and Matsui-san stopping the ram from striking a second time, and Bob reported that it was no mean feat just to swing it once.

Having gotten more than our fair share of exercise walking up, down, and all around, we bid Matusi-san a fond farewell and returned to the hotel to rest. From now on we are on our own in Kyoto with places to explore, restaurants to enjoy and stores to be examined. But first we will take a quiet day of doing nothing to recoup both our minds and our bodies which have been very busy for the last four.

Kyoto - Part 2 - April 15-16

Tuesday morning and we were ready to hit the road early on a sunny warm April day. The goal was Nara, the early capitol of Japan in 700. Daddy and Walter had visited here for a day with friends enjoying the scenery and its important monuments, and we did exactly the same thing.

Our first stop was the Todai-Ji Buddhist Temple complex where we were greeted by the very aggressive, hungry deer that are famous in this area. They are able to detect if you have food anywhere on you, and to ensure that they are not disappointed, there are vendors selling packages of wafers which one feeds to the animals. The trick seemed to be that if you raised the wafer above your head, the deer would politely nod its head twice at which point you were to give them the goodies. If you held out however we were warned that they will butt or bite you. How they learned this, and who has passed these habits along through deer generations is not clear - and they weren't talking. As seemed appropriate, pictures were taken, and deer were appreciated before we continued on to the Buddhist temple itself. We climbed up to the main sanctuary which has on each side of the entry two huge gods carved from wood. This temple is the largest wooden structure in the world (even though it is smaller than its original which burned down), and inside is the Big Buddha, or Daibutsu, made of bronze. This poor buddha, sitting lotus-positioned with one hand up and one hand with palm up, has lost his head three different times due to fire, war or earthquake. He's wearing his fourth head which is a lot shinier and nicer than the rest of his body, which is getting old So we honored him by walking around him and examining all sides. 

But on a glorious sunny day, it was more delightful to walk around the grounds where spring buds were on the trees, and everyone...school groups, Asian tourists and locals, were happily meandering through the paths around the temple. There is a reverence for nature in all forms, which is obvious whether it is in statuary or in the delight people take in staring at a flower blossom or photographing a pond of carp. I particularly enjoyed the ability to leisurely take in these days of early spring. From here we continued on to Nara park where we could see all of Nara stretched out before us in the haze, and commune with more, less aggressive deer. (These guys hadn't learned the trick of nodding and begging, and instead seemed to want to avoid us). The boys in 1928 had taken a car ride through dense woods which reminded them of Germany, and we imitated them by doing exactly the same thing - taking the twisty road up Wakakusa Mountain and down. Matsui-san remembered the boys talking about the pot holes, and we were feeling a bit smug about how the paved road had improved things.... until we found ourselves descending on what was now a gravel one-way road... which perhaps lacked pot holes, but certainly threw dust and gravel at the immaculate black "saloon" town car. Nothing changes in 80 years, I guess. It was a peaceful ride with tall trees on both sides, and we enjoyed the curves and switchbacks which reminded us a bit of the Oakville Crossing between Sonoma and Napa.

At this point we were getting a bit peckish, and since the boys had dined at the Nara Hotel, so did we. As we approached the entrance, we realized that it looked exactly the same as it did in 1928. It is still considered a gracious hotel for important guests, and many of their photographs were on the wall. (Somehow they forgot to mention Herbert and Walter, but did remember Lindbergh, Albert Einstein, Charlie Chaplin and the last emperor of China - Puyi). The main lobby with its dark wood and art deco furniture, its wide majestic stairs leading up to galleries over-looking the lobby, and its subtle lighting looked not that different than in its past ....only the computer screens at the concierge desk told us we were in the 21st century. Bob and I went to a very sunny dining room downstairs to enjoy a delicious Japanese Tempura lunch, which came with all manner of wonderful side dishes (tofu flavored with cherry blossoms, pickled vegetables, miso soup, sashimi tuna and trout). Fully sated and armed with brochures from the hotel, we headed back to Kyoto chatting all the way about what we'd seen and learned.

It was nice to have an outing and to get a sense of the countryside of Japan not from a train or bus, but in a private car.  

Wednesday was to be another day traveling outside of Kyoto and continuing the replication of the boys adventures starting with a ride down the rapids on the Hozugawa river boat ride - a 16 kilometer ride in an ancient wooden boat guided by three men using bamboo poles. This adventure opportunity has been around since 1895 and I think the boats were designed that year. In groups of twelves we boarded our vessel and as they say - that's all she wrote. The entire two hour ride was narrated by one of the three men who rotated in position from the stern (guiding), to the bow (avoiding rocks by pushing away from them with bamboo), to the center (single oar used to move us thru still water). The rest of our fellow-passengers were oohing and aahing as our guide was obviously pointing out something of significance, and a lovely girl in front of us did her best to translate....but we got the drift: "there's a rock that looks like Snoopy", there's a rock that looks like a lion", 'the bridge was built in....", the train tracks go back to....". It didn't matter. To be on the water, to go down rapids at the bottom of a steep ravine, to see nature up close and be totally out of our element made for a fabulous experience. As we neared the end, a boat pulled up next to us - also made in the 1800's. It was the snack food concession consisting of freshly grilled squid, dough balls, drinks and soda. And once everyone had made some purchases, we unhooked from each other and as they awaited the next boat we continued on to the end point - a lovely small lake in Kyoto called Arishiyama. Here we disembarked, waved good bye to our translator and rejoined Matsui-san who had driven from our embarkation point to our disembarkation pier.

Out of nature and back to history, we continued into Kyoto to the Nijo Castle, aka the Shogun's Palace. This is the first site we've been to at which we have seen a lot of Caucasians. Perhaps its because all the signage is in Englilsh and Japanese, or maybe its just a fluke. In any case we learned that this is where the shogun ran the world (while the emperor, as benign puppet, sat in his Imperial Palace near by being watched by the shogun). The castle has an inner corridor which passes all the various rooms where the feudal lords would meet with the shogun, or where the shogun met with foreign dignitaries. The floors of the corridor were made in such a way that when one walked on them, they creaked and would alert guards if you were trying to sneak around. They call it the nightingale floor. Again, while the inside is interesting, it's the grounds that delighted us. Lovely ponds, trees perfectly positioned to hide and reveal scenes, flowers and shrubs and of course, the ubiquitous cherry blossoms. It was a world of splendid isolation where until one went out for battle, life could be very serene within the walls with family, lackeys, guards and vassals. There were many school groups with boys dressed like little soldiers, and girls dressed like little naval officers. School children are the same the world over - bored to tears with the history being learned, and enthusiastic at every shop selling food, trinkets or other 'must haves'. One young man tried to engage us in a brief conversation to practice his English, as we walked back to the car, but his English was pretty pathetic.

I am beginning to feel like daddy - you've seen one temple, you've seen them all. It's like churches in Italy, how many can one truly appreciate? It's the grounds surrounding these various castle and temple buildings that truly have captured me and of which I have probably entirely too many photographs.

In the early afternoon we returned to the hotel and spruced up for our early evening event: an opportunity to attend the Miyako Odori performance in honor of the Cherry Blossoms. This is an event that has been celebrated and performed for over 140 years and which is one of the highlights to be visited during the month of April only. To honor the beginning of spring and renewal, Geiko and Maiko (geisha and geisha-in-training) put on a performance that is a visual/auditory extravaganza. We didn't understand a word of what was being sung by the 'chorus' of older geisha strumming their samisen or the young maiko tucked into alcoves on opposing sides of the theater but we certainly could appreciate the beauty of the young women who slid past them moving towards the stage in front. These were the real thing - dressed in their blue kimono with elaborate obi, lacquered hair elaborately decorated, white-faced make-up and bright red lips, they were pictures of grace and femininity. With the 'chorus' singing the 'libretto' these lovely women performed a mute series of vignettes that told of the changing seasons starting and ending with spring. The stage scenery, quite basic, would change for each vignette and Bob was as entranced with the fairly old-fashioned stagecraft (sand-bag weights, men dressed entirely in black who slipped in to remove or place critical stage props, simple lighting) as he was with the performers themselves. I was entranced with how these women used their fans, their hand gestures, their small dip of the head, the exaggerated gestures. The faces showed absolutely no emotion, it was simply their body and their gestures which illustrated the story being sung by the chorus.

Since, like the cherry blossoms, this is a fleeting event, the theater was sold out. We had seats in the very front row, which might have disturbed the aficionado, but for those of us who wanted to watch every gesture and bit of stagecraft, we couldn't have had better seats. Prior to the theater performance we had paid extra to go to the tea ceremony associated with the event. This was a bust. You are hustled in to a large room, sit down, and for five minutes can see a geisha going through an elaborate series of steps to make a cup of tea. At the same time you are being given a cup of pre-made green thick tea and a small cookie which you gulp down before you are asked to leave taking your ceramic plate as a souvenir. I did manage to get the tea-making geisha on video, briefly, before we were shooed out, and that was nice since one is not allowed to take pictures of the performers in the theater. So at least i have one authentic geisha picture along with quite a few of the theater structure itself once the performance had ended.

We left the theater delighted with our experience, and raced back to the hotel where I spent the next hours reading all about how the women train for these performances, how geisha truly live in the 21st century, and how to recognize the real from the fake. Conclusion: indentured servitude in the name of beauty. These women train for their roles as musicians, artists and non-sexual companions for years (minimum six years), living together under the care and tutelage of a 'mother' and watched over carefully. There are fewer than 2000 women now in Kyoto and Tokyo who have chosen this very traditional 'profession' which compares to nothing I can think of in any other country and when they are past their 30's, unless they are very special, they are pretty much done.

But beautiful they were, and magical was the performance.

Kyoto - Part 1 - April 13-14

Bright and shiny on a Sunday morning, we headed to the Shin-Kansen which would sweep us out of Tokyo and on to Kyoto. The train is a most interesting creature with the engine car, a long white snout-nosed creature looking a bit like a duck-billed platypus. We walked up to the platform where our car would ultimately arrive, and sat next to a well-laden kiosk selling everything from lovely boxes of chocolate to sandwiches and newspapers. There is nothing you can't buy to make your ride a pleasant one... Or to bring home that little something which will atone for your lateness.

Unfortunately with language as a barrier, I wasn't sure if I would be buying orange juice or beer, and while a picture on a carton is worth a thousand words (or Kanji characters), I wasn't confident...much less understanding the yen numbers which aren't always written as I would recognize them. So we boarded our train, found our seat and settled in for what promised to be a fast ride.

Leaving Tokyo is like leaving any big city - factories, train yards, poor housing, and more industrial mish-mash. The whole area from Tokyo to Osaka is a large industrial hub so that while looking for quaint homes and fields of rape seed (as Daddy saw), we saw smoke stacks, factories and cranes. But suddenly....there was Fuji sticking up out of the smog: white capped, huge and as iconic as it could be....just like the advertisement on my bottle of Fuji Water which I sipped as we moved at 180 mph through the landscape. I was hoping for crystal blue skies and white snow, but hey....can't have it all.

Our arrival in Kyoto the capitol of Japan for over 1000 years left us feeling ambivalent. There is little charm inside any city train station with too many signs leading you hither and yon, too many people racing along with anxious faces trying to get to their destination, and all manner of quick-food stops and stalls. Through this somewhat chaotic scene we found our way to our hotel's concierge room (where forwarded luggage can be stored and uniformed concierges provide guidance to the semi-lost guests). We were guided graciously and efficiently to the shuttle bus stop and within minutes were swept up into the hills to our next 'port of call' - the Westin Miyako. This fairly new American-style hotel is in the same location as its predecessor of1928 but is otherwise a totally new structure.

And there was our forwarded luggage - amazing! Our room which looks pretty much like any Holiday Inn or Marriott was a bit of a come down after the Tokyo Station Hotel, but then so was the price. We settled in, found the bar, and that was that.

Monday dawned with bright sunny skies and warm temperatures, an immediate improvement over the previous day, and a sign of good things to come. In the lobby we met Matsui-san, a retired taxi driver and professional guide who would take us under his wing for the next four days in Kyoto. Thanks to a Peacham connection, this lively, be-speckled Japanese man was prepared to help us re-create the boys visit of 1928. I had forwarded the letters to him, explaining the goals of our trip, and he had taken it all to heart and throughout the day would quote descriptions from the original letters as he pointed things out to us in 2014. This level of care and attention gave us both a confidence that we were definitely in the hands of a pro.

Because Kyoto traffic can be quite congested, we three took a taxi to the start of what would be a wonderful day of long walks over hill and dale through wonderful sights. The start of our walk was through the large cemetery written about by the boys which forms the southern approach to the temple Kiyomizu-dera. Over 30,000 stele are built in groupings climbing up this small 'mountain'. We started at the bottom, and moved slowly to the top passing people tending family graves, maintenance workers cutting back weeds and tourists like ourselves gazing in awe. There is no attempt to beautify the area with trees or landscaping. It is simply a densely packed city of the dead made of granite or marble stele as far as the eye could see. We learned that each monument represented a family. On the stone is carved the main family name, and then individual names of the deceased - both their real names and an honorific name they were given at death which describes them. Below the monument are the cremated remains (Over 98% of Japanese are obliged to choose cremation as a space saving measure.) As in America, there were small attempts to beautify a monument with flowers, incense or small decoration, but the overall image was of a sea of gray stone.

At the crest of the hill we came to the entrance of the Kiyomizu Temple, one of the 1600 Buddhist temples in Kyoto. (There are also 400 shinto shrines). It was a sunny day and filled with tourists - mainly Asian. The platform/stage where one stood to look over the city dates to the year 700 and is built from long pieces of wood with cross braces - and no nails. We looked out and learned that the phrase in Japanese to: 'jump off the stage of Kyomizu' is similar to 'taking the plunge' in English. Like many Buddhist temples which we saw in China, there is an inner room where as a believer, one kneels, makes a prayer, and then rings a gong. There are also opportunities to buy one's paper fortune and if you don't like the answer, leave the small paper with the fortune tied to a wooden framework. One can also buy small wooden placards and make a wish. This being the year of the horse, there were many with the iconography of a horse on it. In all cases the temple is making money. This is a UNESCO World Heritage site and one can understand why. One gets a sense that the whole city is a huge religious shrine with tourists dotting the landscape to appreciate the beauty.

We walked thru the temple complex, wending our way towards the famous three-spouted fountain which leads from an endless water-fall above. It has never run out of water, and people take long handled scoops to get water from each of the three rivulets representing wisdom, longevity and beauty. Matsui San thought it proper that one take from one of the three, but in these times of greed people tried for all three at once. He was more upset by Chinese tourists who were unaware of correct behavior and were using the water to wash themselves rather than drink of the water. (There were other times when he seemed upset by tourists who didn't act correctly by either dropping trash, stamping out a cigarette on the ground and leaving it, or other forms of behavior which just aren't right. He has a sense of decorum which some tourists just aren't understanding.

At one point there was an opportunity for visitors to test their strength.There was a large steel pole which, were you strong enough could be lifted out of its post. The story is that at one point on a very important bridge of Kyoto there stood a very large muscular man who made you lift this pole. If you couldn't, he took your sword. Until one day, having accumulated over 900 swords, a small man approached and successfully lifted the pole. And the curse was broken. (I think I have the story right). Froggy and I tried and failed to lift the pole.

Having walked through lovely high gardens, which Herbert & Walter had mentioned in their letters, we slowly worked our way down through a long shopping street where vendors hoping to capture tourist revenues were selling everything from pickles and pottery to true chatchki. We stopped at a small spot for a cup of coffee and to rest our feet, which had been going up and down stairs and walk ways for over three hours at this point. I am glad we had our guide since almost no signage was in a language other than Japanese, and most of what we saw would have been lost on us had we not had our guide with us. Yes, one could clasp a guidebook and read as one went along, but having someone talking in your ear and pointing out the things to be appreciated made for a far more lasting experience.

We next walked through various streets and alleys which have been designated as special historic sites which means the buildings are true to the old forms of structures typical of Kyoto, and all telephone and power lines are hidden from view so that one can get a sense of what the city must have been like in the 'old' days. This is the place from which "Memoirs of a Geisha" is based, and we were shown the various tea houses, walk-ways and streams that play a part in this novel. It is now a popular tourist attraction to rent a full Geisha outfit - including the wooden geta, and to walk through the town for a few hours feeling like a Geisha. There are other places that will paint you to look like a Geisha,... but as Matsui-san said, there is no hiding the fake from the real. The real Geisha has a beauty and grace that no clunky tourist can begin to mimic. But there were sure a lot of wanna-bees everywhere taking pictures and looking somewhat self-conscious.

Our last serious walking tour was to go through a lovely series of gardens - first up, up, up, and then down, down down. We saw the biggest Buddhist bell weighing 76 tons, and which was called 'Big Daddy' by our guide. It takes 18+ people to force the large clapper to strike the bell, and the head priest would be the leader to attempt this feat. Now it is simply a memory sitting at the top of one of the hills. Everywhere that we walked Matsui-san would point out where the boys had stood, or commented or walked. It truly felt that we were walking in their footsteps, with a few hundred extra tourists along the way, and as I look back at the black and white pictures I realize where they were and what they were trying to capture. The whole of Kyoto when walking amidst the gardens and shrines is a peaceful, unique spot.

We are visiting at the same time of the year in which they were here, and like then, the cherry blossoms are quickly waning but retain a beauty one has to photograph. Wherever there was a tree with blossoms there was someone taking a photograph (including the writer of this blog). While neither Bob or myself are spiritually interested in the sites we were visiting, one couldn't help but appreciate the beauty of the setting and the calm and serenity which was trying to be being captured. One could imagine many monks in days of yore, going through their daily rituals throughout the town. There are still begging monks (wearing big round bamboo 'hats') and young acolytes practicing to be monks, but it is a fading image amidst the hoards of tourists snapping pictures, eating pickles and buying memorabilia. It isn't Disneyland but it is a tourist magnet.

As our legs became weary, and our brains stopped absorbing data, we walked through shopping streets, past the shopping area - Gion - where one had to watch for Geisha, shop keepers, tourists and traffic. At this point we were ready to call it a day, so we hopped in a cab, headed back to the hotel and collapsed with the hotel's full 'high tea', which was so complete it became our evening meal. . A very full first day in Kyoto.

Tokyo - April 11-12, 2014

Friday dawned warm and sunny and we determined that today was the day to conquer the subway system and the Edo-Tokyo Museum. The SUICA card which our friends had provided for us is a magical all-in-one card that is primarily meant for local in-city train travel within Tokyo, Kyoto and other cities, but which can also be used to buy odds and bobs from local shops or kiosks in the train stations and around the city. A glorified cash card which you top off with real cash at various machines located conveniently everywhere and which one could easily use up as you move through your business day. A great concept requiring no pin codes, no fumbling for change, no hassle in a society made up of trusting individuals.

Like any subway system, Tokyo's looks like a messy bowl of spaghetti when you examine its 'helpful' diagrams posted everywhere, but there is a logic to it all assuming one is not color-blind. But, since Bob IS color blind, and asking help in English was not promising to be successful, we had asked the hotel to write down our destination - the Edo-Tokyo Museum - in Kanji so that we could show this to people who while they may not understand us, could at least point us in the right direction were we to get lost.

While all signage in the stations and trains is shown in Kanji and Romaji (English letters representing the Japanese word), and most public announcements are done in both languages we entered the new world of the underground with a bit of trepidation. But,as expected, we got to the museum stop with no problem grateful that we weren't handicapped as we raced up and down stairs, escalators and other level-changing devices along with the white-masked, brief-case toting hoards. Like New York there is a warren of opportunity to shop below ground with every known type of vending machine, food stall and concession stand and every place was a curiosity which had to be examined. When we finally came back up to ground level we were near the Sumo Wrestling Arena and the vendors were selling t-shirts with local very-large heroes on them, along with all manner of tourist chatchki. At this point we were obliged to use our trusty hotel-provided Kanji card for people to point us in the direction of the museum where we paid our entry fee, and started our visit.

The museum is fairly new and has been designed to show the two main periods of the city - pre Meiji era (Edo) and post (Tokyo). It is physically divided on each floor into these two periods and one learns about how people lived, were entertained, worked and were educated. There were beautiful miniature re-creations of palaces, shogun establishments, and areas of the city and full size mock-ups of houses, kabuki theaterstages and shops. And amidst all this were display cases with important documents and artifacts all described in Japanese and English. The focus seemed to be on the socio-economic environment as it was affected by history. The period in which Bob was most interested - 1914 - 1946 - the war years, was somewhat 'glossed over' and edited for local consumption which was interesting and telling in its own way. I of course, was looking for memorabilia of the 1920's when Daddy and Walter were here.

What was most impressive to me was the concerted, focused effort to become Westernized in an amazingly short period of time. With the goal of becoming less isolated after hundreds of years of being ruled by the shoguns everything changed: trade was increased; steam engines were brought in; clothing styles changed to western wear; western foods were introduced; education systems were changed to match Europe; cars were introduced along with the British driving system; hair styles were drastically changed and men were told to cut off their top knots, and the emperor, much to every one's amazement dressed in Western clothing and set the tone for the future. Some of this made sense, some had to be super-imposed on a very Oriental culture, and much had to be blended to take advantage of both. And so it remains today. Japan remains fairly isolated, and while it is an economic force in the world marketplace, its society at home remains insular.

After a good three+ hours, which we both enjoyed, we returned to the hotel, foot sore, but far more aware of this city and its history. In search of a cooling glass of beer we went to a promising Belgian Beer hall, only to discover that unlike Europe, beer establishments in the heart of Tokyo only seem to open in the late afternoon. We assume that is to keep the hard working employees sober until end of day. So back to the hotel we went to write the blog and sip a room-service beer while watching some baseball.

Baseball, Japanese-style is great fun. The teams have both borrowed names and logo so that there were theTokyo Giants, the Carps (with the iconic red 'C' of the Cincinnati Reds), the Swallows and others. The fans in the stands were all chanting for their teams and had two sticks attached with a string that they banged together in unison. While the sportscasters were speaking Japanese and the scoreboard was in Japanese it could have been NESN with a different set of players. Only difference for me was that while in the US the team would be made up of Hispanics, Japanese, Blacks and Caucasians, here it was 99% Japanese. Melting pot it wasn't. If we got bored watching Japanese games, there were just as many games re-played from the US, so that we watched a NY Yankees/Boston Red Sox game all explained in a language we don't understand.

After a lovely French bistro dinner of Steak Frites, wine and "1664" beer, we called it a day.

Saturday we felt lazy so we slept in, wrote more blog and then arranged to ship ahead our luggage. This is a wonderful concept we need to adopt in other countries. For a very nominal fee, your large luggage pieces are shipped ahead to your next hotel where they await your arrival. We were promised that if we gave the pieces to the concierge by 3:00 p.m., they would be waiting for us at the hotel in Kyoto when we arrived the next day. Because most trains provide little to no luggage storage for large suitcases most Japanese use this approach to leap-frog their luggage ahead of them and then carry only an over-nighter small bag onto the train. Hassle-free travel so much nicer than dragging large bags up and down stairs, onto track platforms, fighting for space on the train, muscling it back off. We are converts.

We had arranged to meet Narumi Hirose at 4:30 for an early sushi dinner and what a wonderful experience that was. The restaurant she had chosen is very popular (both for the quality and the price of its sushi) and the lines can be horrendous and thus our early arrival. We could have eaten at the counter which had a continuous chain of sushi plates passing by your eyes with the sushi chef in the middle feeding the chain, or we could sit at a table. We chose the table which too had an interesting approach: one was given a digital tablet on which every fish was portrayed with its price, you picked your fish and the number of plates you wanted, and hit enter. Within minutes your sushi arrived with appropriate sauces. At the end of our booth was a large 6" cube box holding enough ginger to satisfy even Bob who eats it like salad and containers of soy sauce. Unfortunately everything was in Kanji only so we were dependent on Narumi to manage the tablet which she did perfectly. Every bite was amazing, and our pile of plates accumulated at the end of the table. We were pikers compared to some diners who had piles two feet tall. At the end they count the number and type of the plates and the bill is totaled on the tablet and sent to the check-out counter where we went to pay. The waiting line at 6:00 was down a long corridor and wrapped around a wall. A fabulous find on the 5th floor of a high rise modern shopping mall right across from our hotel but which we would NEVER have found on our own.

The whole evening was a delight - getting to know Narumi who is the girl friend of Pete Shirling (Bob's high school buddy); eating fabulous sushi; getting to see more of the hidden malls in Tokyo; and lastly shopping for doo-dads at Bic Camera, an emporium of all things electronic. And thus our first week in Tokyo ends.

Tokyo -April 7-10, 2014

I know, I know, it's been a full week and not a word of the blog has been posted. And I have no excuses except that 14 hour flights- even in business class luxury, and 13 hour time differences do not inspire great authorship.

But with that as a preface, let me say that to-date everything has gone swimmingly and we are becoming thoroughly ensconced in the Japanese lifestyle - from its first class toilets, to its finest dining experiences....I think there is a connection there.

We arrived bleary-eyed at Narita Airport on April 7th, and once through the official lines were quick to buy a phone card, get our half-priced NEX express train ride tickets, and call the hotel (using said phone card) to inform them precisely about our train number, arrival time, car number and seat number. Mind you, there was little in the way of signage to help in these transactions, and the young lady who issued our train tickets spoke with smiles and signs and perfect Japanese. But hey, this was part of the game we needed to play to learn our way. (Originally our friend Pete was going to meet us at the airport to smooth these first experiences, but life got in the way and while we're in Japan, he's in Burlington Vermont. Unfortunately, bad timing.)

As we pulled into Tokyo Station there stood a perfectly dressed bellman from the hotel wearing white gloves and carrying a placard with our name. To the bemusement of fellow Japanese passengers, he grabbed our bags and walked us through the maze of rush-hour humans from the train to the lobby of our most elegant hotel. (This is a custom we could get used to.) Our bed awaited us, and presto here we were - in Tokyo on a late Monday evening.

Tuesday, the 8th, was basically a bust since our bodies and our minds were not in synch. Yes we could have gone out and conquered the world, but why? We are here for a month and a day of doing nothing was just what we needed. The hotel is built above the main train station so that in the background there is a wonderful lulling rumble of trains running 50 feet below our bed. The hotel was built in the late 1800's when there was a desire to become more Western and it has the look of a traditional, low, three-story British red-brick Victorian structure- very different from the modern sky-scrapers which surround it. The building survived the war but more recently went through a six year renovation to make it a very 21st century structure sitting on a bed of seismic buffers to protect it against the next earthquake. This entire renovation to preserve the old look and feel now makes the hotel a destination for Japanese who are seen being photographed outside our windows almost every day.

I have to comment on the toilets - an accouterment we could get used to: seats that thru motion detection rise as you approach the throne and close as you depart; seats that are warmed; deodorizer which is sprayed in the bowl while sitting; water that rises to keep you sparkling clean, and a flushing mechanism which is either controlled by the throne-ee, or simply occurs when you depart the premises. Too much data? We apologize.... but it is the way of Japan.

Wednesday, the 9th, we began exploring our surroundings, finding restaurants, learning how to buy train tickets for future trips, collecting brochures and arranging for tours within the city. First impressions:

• Bob declares the whole city a sci-fi atmosphere
• Non-Japanese, even in the heart of the city, are almost non-existent. Where are the tourists in this time of the cherry blossoms?
• Black suits are the uniform for all the 'salalimen' (this is not being derogatory, the label was used at the museum we visited) as they stride purposefully through the streets
• All women have long bangs, shiny black hair and the latest fashions
• No one carries the ubiquitous bottles of water without which we Americans can't move
• Everything is amazingly expensive
• Every other person is wearing a white mask against colds, coughs and hay fever
• Every major high-rise has a full indoor conclave of fine dining for any known nationality (Belgian beer halls, Chinese, Italian, French bistro) but none seem to be open for breakfast first thing in the morning
• Everyone seems gracious and wanting to help but English is rarely spoken. We have been advised that the education focuses on reading and writing, not speaking so that if we want to get help, it is often faster to write it in English rather than try and communicate verbally
• Think of New York City with high rises, rushing commuters, busy cross-walks, hundreds of taxi cabs and absolutely NO honking. How eerie is That?

Perhaps the highlight of the day was our visit to the Imperial Hotel near the palace moat. This was the location where the 'boys' stayed in 1928, but not the hotel. The structure in which they stayed, and on which they commented was built by Frank Lloyd Wright in 1923, but while it survived the huge earthquake of 1923 and the bombings of WW II, and served as McArthur's Headquarters during the occupation, it became old and worn and was torn down in the 1970's. Part of its original structure has been preserved and moved and is now part of an out-door museum near Nagoya. In its footprint a modern sky scraper hotel was built. While the outside is very 1970, within it tries to preserve a 'sense' of the original art deco decor and the design themes of Wright. Everything from the carpet design, the lighting fixtures, the furniture carries a memory of the original.  

I stopped at the concierge desk to see if there were some historical post cards or a photo gallery that might capture the period of 'the boys', and was directed to the front desk where I met the Manager of Guest Relations. When I related my purpose in visiting, he became our personal guide through the hotel showing us all the details we might have missed, and then leading us to a wonderful bar on the 2nd floor called the Old Imperial Bar, where there are remnants of the original Wright Mosaics installed on the wall.

Bob and I had a beer and imagined the boys as they sat in The Grill Room and feeling as if we were 'almost' there. And once more we had that wonderful experience of having someone become engaged in our whole journey so that we felt we were doing honors to the boys.

Thursday the 10th, was a full day city bus tour which we always like to do when we are in a new city. It allows us to get our bearings, and to get a sense of the monuments, museums and gardens we need to appreciate. Our Gray Line tour was led by two guides, a very amusing, articulate woman in the morning, a less articulate but very energized young man in the afternoon. Our bus was organized such that English was the language spoken, but our fellow sight-seers were from Italy, The Philippines, Australia, and assorted eastern European countries, with only five of us from the US. The major events during our eight hour tour were the Imperial Gardens where the cherry blossoms were just past; the Meijii Shrine where Daddy and Walter had gone; a Shinto Shrine; a Buddhist Temple; the Tokyo Tower - an Eiffel-tower like structure where one can get a view of the city; a boat ride on the Sumida River under 14+ unique bridges and various drive-by sightings of The Ginza, the Akasaka Guest House (where visiting dignitaries are housed), Ueno Park and Akihabara - the high tech, neon-lit shopping area.

Because of the effects of World War II when Tokyo was basically smashed to smithereens, most of what we saw was either re-built, re-created, or simply brand new... thus Bob's theory of the sci-fi environment. Unfortunately for me, there is little charm since there is very little in the way of cozy, old, quaint corners. But one must admire it simply for its newness. Would we come back, probably not. Am I glad I came, absolutely. The boys have driven this entire journey, and Japan is no exception. We are walking in their shadow, and our experiences are not dissimilar - just eighty-six years apart and in a new city.