Hollyhocks and Bamboo and Monkeys! Oh My!

Day 9: May 15, 2015

Had a traditional Japanese breakfast this morning: fried mackerel, miso soup, greens with tofu, and rice. Good and filling, but I still needed to grab a coffee from the cafe.

By the time I arrive at the Aoi Matsuri (Hollyhock Festival) at the Imperial Palace, it feels like it’s 27 degrees…at 1030 in the morning. I jam my sun hat on, but I’m still a hot mess. I notice that this is a ticketed event  and that most people are dressed respectably: hats with visors, shirts and ties, long-sleeved tops, gloves, panty hose. And everyone brought a personal towel to wipe the sweat.

I find a couple of old Japanese guys with long lenses seated in the ticketed section, so I stand behind them behind the rope; I figure they know the good vantage points. They’re nattering away when one of them notices my camera, particularly the make (Nikon). A older woman next to me asks where I’m from. (None of them speak English.) One of the men points to my camera,”Good one,” then gestures at the lens to see the focal length (55-200 mm) and I show him my second lens (18-55mm). He nods his approval. Then he points at his friend’s camera and laughs. I have no idea why because we’re all using Nikons. The woman says something and the next thing I know the three of them are sneaking me under the rope and into the ticketed area, telling to me move quickly, pushing me to get a better seat, nudging me as if to say “Hey, get a shot of that.” Love it. Cameras do it every time. My tribe. And I got photos of them.

In the afternoon, I take a train to see a bamboo forest. Before I hit the “trail” I inhale chicken on a stick and pineapple on a stick. It’s the first fruit I’ve had in days. Scurvy averted. Whew! I follow the steady stream of tourists into the cool and lovely foest. Keep in mind, this is a maintained road, so there isn’t much forest-like about the place, but that what the locals call it. The bamboo grow tall and green and I’m in awe. I’ve never bamboo in the wild. Long stalks stretching into leaves, some with leaves sprouting from the stalks. What could this have looked like before it was cultivated?

On the way, many people asked me to take their photos, including a couple from Toronto; tells me that as soon as he saw my Canadian flat luggage tag, he knew I’d help out. We chatted about cameras a  bit then I told him about Toronto Photo Walks. Perhaps he’ll show up.

As I exit the forest/grove, I hear someone mention monkeys. I check the map and sure enough there’s a monkey park nearby. Once I get directions from a couple of Brits, I’m off to cross the “famous bridge” then follow the signs. The hilly scene stops me in my tracks (this happens a lot in Japan). After the requisite photos, I begin the trek up the hill/mountain. Semantics mean nothing: I’m walking up a steep incline with no water, it’s about 30 degrees Celcius, humid, and I’m sweating like a pig. Damn monkeys better be worth it.

OH MY GOD MONKEYS! Macaques with red butts and red faces sneak around, play fight (or fight fight? I can’t tell), groom, and … um, hump? Right, lets just look over here then. We’re definitely in their territory and there are rules, even if they are in badly translated English: “Don’t stare at the monkeys in the eyes. Dont touch the monkeys. Don’t feed them outside. Don’t take picture on the way. Please take a distance more 3m with monkeys.” What if the monkey stares at me? What if it invades my personal space? Perhaps I take the Japanese tack, mutter “sumimasen,” and back away. Or I take a Western tack and snap photos. AND OH MY GOD A BABY MONKEY! I’m going to die of cute.

I leave the macaques to do their thing and make my way down the hill to the train. And I bet I smell a treat: sweat and monkey. Who cares. My next stop is the lovely kimono shop next to my hotel where I swear I saw a kimono onsale for 30,000 yen. It’s now 4:30 and it closes at 6. Will I make it?
Just barely. Except the kimonos aren’t on sale; in fact, they run from 140,000 to 190,000 yen. Gulp! I buy something else for much less money and take my leave.

Kyoto, City of Culture

Day8: May 14, 2015

Breakfast so far has been pretty standard. This morning, however, I met a Venezuelan woman from Southern California. She asked if I liked Japanese food, because the place across the street served traditional breakfast. Duly noted!

From there I took the #12 to Nojo Castle, a beautiful building that is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It consists of two concentric circles of fortifications. Like much ancient Japanese  architecture, parts of it succumbed to fire, so some of bits of the castle are relicas; however, some those replicas are themselves hundreds of years old.  Wrapped up the morning with a coffee set lunch  in a Japanese tea room:  macha chiffon cake with dollops of whipped  cream and red bean jam. So good!

Although I meet a lot of people while travelling solo, it’s a good idea to take a group tour, especially if you’re on your own for a while. So I took Tammy  Burns’ suggestion, and booked a three-hour tour with Urban Adventures. Ours was a diverse group made up of people from the States (an editor from NYC, a children’s librarian and her husband from DC, and and a wannabe writer and her husband  from Hawaii), Qatar via Calgary ( a Quebec geologist and his Columbian wife) and Australia  via India.

Benjamin, originally from Ghana, lead us to the Tofukuji Temple to admire its zen garden. Next, we visited Fushimi Inari Shrine with its famous red toshi gates. Each one is donated by businesses large and small to ensure prosperity. We walked through a gauntlet of peddlers hawking tat and taste. Then we were on the lookout for geishas in the Gion district. Alas,  none were to be seen.

Our group had an interesting dynamic. The four Americans (20s or 30s) were friends travelling together, and didn’t really mix with the rest of us  (40+). One of the merits of travelling alone is meeting and mixing with people I’d normally not know. Sure you meet people at parties, but on the road you don’t talk about mundane shit.

As our tour wrapped up, Beatrice (from Qatar) proffered discount tickets to a variety show, of sorts, featuring samples of traditional Japanese culture:  tea ceremony (slow and precise), kabuki (colorful and dramatic ), noh comedy (silly without needing to understand dialogue ), geisha dance (lovely and subtle), and a bunraku puppet show (riveting despite seeing the black-clad handlers). While it targetted  tourists, it was a great way to sample traditional that I may not otherwise get to see (e.g., the bunraku isn’t running in May ). So happy I could see this.

After the show, we parted ways. It was dark so I thought it would be a good chance to use my tripod. What a clusterfuck. I swore at it, decided to sell it as soon as I got home, and packed it away. Then I realized that I all I’d eaten was a ham and egg sandwich at 7 am. Time to find food.

Fished around for sushi, but instead netted a weird place that only served one dish: a pancake filled with meat, egg, and veg. It easy decorated floor to ceiling with strange bawdy geegaws, and at each table sat a mannequin dolled up in a kimono. Lots of tourists, naturally. Food was good and filling, and my mood improved.

I took the bus to Kyoto station to see the tower and take some photos. Watched a buskers for a bit then headed back to the hotel.

Kyoto

Day 7: May 13, 2015
On my way to Kyoto for four days, so I’ll have time to do laundry. First, however, I need to make sense of the bus map. Egads!

Been in Japan a week and I love it. I also like living at the  minimum.

I’m puzzled by the culture of uniforms. Obviously it doesn’t apply to everyone, but those people who work for companies all wear dark suits and white shirts with dark ties; women wear skirts (not trousers) and white shirts without tie. All shoes are polished. Few wear street clothes to work. Most kids are in uniform for school, then after a few years out of uniform for university, they’re tucked in and buttoned down again. It doesn’t compare to North America to the UK. I’m not sure whats at work; profit motive, but for the company, not for oneself. I need to ask more questions.

Tatami mats are my new love. The are tightly woven grass mats edged with cotton borders. The size traditionally varies between Kyoto and Tokyo. They are spread of over the floor instead of carpets and partially explain why people remove their shoes. Some seem to have padding underneath. They’re elegant and tidy. Easy to clean? I’ll look it up. They’d look great in my bedroom.

Kimonos are becoming popular again. In Nagasaki, I noticed a young,  hip couple wearing kimonos with decidedly untraditional accessories. They posed for me. The same day I saw a young, earnest Western red-headed woman on the tram seriously reading a  Japanese book. Seated next to her were middle-aged Japanese women in regular  “Western” clothes. They glanced at the white woman more out of curiosity, I think, than anything else. She was so earnest and so serious and so out of place. I couldn’t sneak a photo.

Speaking of which, I noticed that I’ve only taken 493 photos in a week. Must take more.

A high school group just got on my car. Cute, goofy yet well-behaved and relatively quiet. I don’t see a teacher. Amazing.

Whizzing by on the shinkansen,  I see lots of temples. When I first took this train, I was enthralled with the view. Now, no so much. I still get a thrill with traditional Japanese architecture, though.

950 am Just realized I don’t have directions  to the hotel. I have an address. Must find WiFi so I don’t get lost.

1130 am arrived in Kyoto. Got lost for over an hour. Took cab to hotel.

With bus map in hand, it’s time to discover the city. Met Angus and his wife Mary from Australia  while stood waiting for the #50. Met Katie and her dad Bob, from Grimsby, Ontario, while waiting for the #205. She’s an MA student here for a radiation conference. I really enjoy this part.

Visited To-Ji Temple, a large and beautiful Buddhist temple that houses many artifacts, including an eerie Buddha that seemed to see all my good, bad, and ugly. ..then make me deal with it. Photography is forbidden inside the buildings, so I made up for it outside. One fellow I photographed was sweeping somewhat aggressively.  So I watched: he was beating away pigeons. That’s not very zen, I thought, so I asked (hand motions, short English, shorter Japanese) what he was doing. He told me  (hand motions and Japanese) that he was keeping the birds out of the shrine so they don’t shit on Buddha. I’m certain he said shit,  based on the look on his face. All smiles, he agreed to letting me take his picture. Then he was serious. After the photo, the smile returned.

Fantastic afternoon of shooting and chatting to locals. Now I need a hot shower, dinner, laundry, and an early night.