I hate last days of any holiday; there is that thought of the mundane life back home and the fear that you will miss that one special thing that makes your trip memorable.
Rising to the sound of the birds chirping and nestling into Elena, we rose slowly together, neither of us really wanting to be the first to concede defeat to our night’s sleep.
Staring through the window eating pasties washed down with green tea to the sound of CNN World News on the TV, we planned our last day. We needed to buy our return train tickets from Kyoto JR Station (JR = Japan Rail). Then we would have most of the day to fill in time and do the typical tourist thing of rushing to buy those last minute souvenirs that put you bags over the limit at the airport.
Rising up behind the hotel was a serene, peaceful bush walk and by going to the concierge in the lobby we were able to obtain a pair of field binoculars for bird watching and taking in the view at the lookout. The gardens are on the grounds of the Westin Miyako Hotel and are heritage listed and one of the best places to visit in early morning – we were the only one’s there. The colour of the autumn leaves yellow gold pink and crimson and the smell of crisp clean air was a refreshing start to the day. Had we known of this place earlier we would have come here for breakfast and mediation each morning.
It was time to say goodbye to our hotel room that had played as a place to sleep, as we were never there, leaving our bags at reception to collect later in the day.
Elena bought the local subway tickets to Kyoto JR Station while I snapped away with the camera trying desperately to capture the fleeting moments of our little self organised excursions through the city. Several stops and a change of rail line got us totally confused, but finally we made our way across the city to Kyoto JR Station. By far the largest station complete with it’s labyrinth of shops and supermarkets. Purchasing a oriental kebab in the western style supermarket and hunting for an exit I started to panic and couldn’t find my way out. There is nothing more frightening that the feeling of walls closing in on you and not knowing how to escape. Having no command of your sense of direction and of course the language barrier only compounded the situation.
Finally I saw it. I bounded for the door and again was free.
Having got our tickets sorted, we were departing at 4.45pm so now the day was ours. We took the subway back to the central business district for lunch. Once again on Teramachi Street this time we found a great Japanese food place. “Mr Young Men” is a strange name for a food place but if you are in Kyoto and in need of sustenance this is the place. You just got to order the “works okonomiyaki”. It’s like a pizza with no base and without the cheese and consisted of seaweed, prawns, calamari, egg and shavings that looked like wood from a craftsman’s block plane. It sounds strange but after managing to complete the feast, which in its self is a task deserving of a medal. I wrote on the napkin my appreciation of a meal that was deserving of a culinary award. Needless to say Elena was impressed and couldn’t complete the challenge on the plate before her. I declared myself the winner and it was time to move on (slowly).
Aimlessly wandering back toward the mountains and the Westin Miyako Hotel we knew that we would have to be back by 3.15 to make the shuttle bus transfer back to the station. Stopping at a myriad of shops and stalls time slipped away as we meandered into a coffee shop for deserts now that our main course had settled. Glancing at my watch bought us back to reality with a jolt. The time was 2.45 and the hotel was a good 30-minute walk away. Now it was time to run!
Crossing busy streets congested with cars and alternating between speed walking and running we raced each other to the hotel. Felling like a part of the amazing race reality show we huffed and puffed up the hill to find the bus loaded and waiting for the precise moment to depart, thank the gods for Japan’s organised transportation system. Everything leaves on time with or without you. Loading our bags, out of breath and out of time we now were bound to home.
The Shinkansen Train to Kansai International Airport seemed to divide the day to night as the sun said sayonara to the sky. We sped through the early evening past little houses and the urban sprawl that is the lay of the land in Japan.
Having checked in we wandered to the place we had breakfast at the Airport Hotel complex only a few days earlier before embarking on our flight home.
Our trip was over, before I had the chance to really immerse myself into this land of the rising sun.
Would I come back? Definitely, Japan has left a taste unquenched and I would love to embrace its people and culture on a deeper level.
Trip to Japan – 3 – 10 November 2007
