O-kee-nee!

Day 38 - 26th April 2006

Kyoto

I'm a bit embarassed. We're in a new open-plan hostel, easily the best hostel I've ever been in. The kitchen facilities are top notch, the bookshelf is full of useful literature, the staff are lovely, there are plenty of pretty girls around and the bedrooms are safe and secure. Despite this, I am sat by myself. For a reason. You can't wear your shoes in a Japanese abode and my feet absolutely stink. They never used to; I used to be able to stand week upon week of wearing trainers without an unpleasant smell, but they really reek now. Normally you don't even notice your own 'odours', so it must be especially bad. James is the main person having to suffer this, being my near constant companion, so I should really take his advice and buy some odour eaters.

Time I digressed. When we arrived the day before yesterday, we knew Japan would present us with a new set of challenges. Speaking English is the exception not the rule, even in Tokyo. During the short time (a day) we spent in the capital, our time was taking up having a nightmare withdrawing cash. We departed our hostel for Ueno (where Nick sadly couldn't meet us), a brash downtown area, gradually getting hyped up as we dodged the fantastically beautiful girls and vendors with silly hats, ready for a few beers to celebrate our arrival in Japan. Better get the money, we thought. Well, the ATM's were hard enough to use in the first place, especially the ones which didn't have an 'English' button. We must have tried a dozen cash machines before giving up and heading for central Tokyo, incredulous that we couldn't get any money out in a major shopping area. We had no better luck at Tokyo central station. OK, it was a Sunday night, but even so I was surprised how quiet this metropolis was at 9pm. Nowhere accepted Visa cards it seemed, after 30 further minutes of effort. We bought dinner in Ueno station on James' credit card, and clearly we were a bit downhearted by our first taste of Japan. Just goes to show that capitalism doesn't equal freedom ;) Needless to say we sorted everything the following morning. The afternoon trip on the bullet train to the former capital, Kyoto, was flawless.

Both of us absolutely love Kyoto, Japan's capital from 794AD - 1868AD. One day's lazy cycle around this most tranquil of cities was spell binding enough. In the eastern Gion district, buddhist temple after temple stretch off in the mountains that hem Kyoto in. The number and scale of these places of worship and ceremony is surprisingly large. Getting around them by bike as we did was not a problem, but the lack of tour guide was, therefore a large chunk of what we understand about these relics was cut off. The space and peace of the area spoke a universal language, however.

In our first stop - the coffee shop at the Kyoto National Museum - we were the most relaxed we have been on our travels, or perhaps even a while before that. Everything was settled and content. The still water troughs by the sides of the footpaths really appealed to me, and the clearly delineated fencing, foliage and flora was colourful and vivid. James and I took a long while to get out of lazy bastard mode in that place, I can tell you. The museum itself reminded me that my mind's eye pre-conceptions of Japan were sorely limited. I had no idea of the chronology of the history, cultural touchstones or national psyche beyond martial arts, Japanese warriors, WW2 stereotypes and cutting edge technology. Maybe this is because Britain never got it's grubby mits on the place. A quick wander around the archealogical artefacts, ceramics, painting and sculpture started to fill those gaping holes. I've never been drawn to sculpture, for instance, but I was in this museum. The wooden Buddhas were so finely and exquisitely carved that it was hard to imagine what time and complex mathematics would have been involved in their production.

Buddhism came to Japan in the 6th century, and the courts and other local culture mingled with it to create different buddhist sects and forms of worship. Buddhism's generation in India, meant that it shared a lot with Hinduism and many of it's orignal texts were in Sanskrit. Using the Sanjusangendo temple as our starting point was a piece of good fortune and we received a good feel for the calm and contemplative nature of the temples. Crowds of school kids on day excursions to Kyoto surrounded us, larking about, but still respectful. One group spoke to us as part of an assignment. We were really pleased to see how chuffed they were after exchanging a few words with us and one of them even started punching the air in joy! They gave us both a small key-ring as a token of thanks after we posed for photos with them. I kicked myself for not having any of the trinkets I'd brought from home on me, which would have allowed me to reciprocate. The temple interior was a sight to make anyone slack-jawed; hundreds of beautifully crafted, human-size buddhas formed an army raised on a vast hall of ascending steps.

Later on as we cycled further around the town and walked through the ornamental gardens it occured to me again how clear, clean and orderly everything was. The parks are lovingly tended and everything has a clear border, compartmentalised from it's surrounding, be that a footpath, a flower bed or a tidy well-swept back yard. It even extended to those walking in its environs; neat school uniforms and well brushed hair. Outside the gardens everything else is also calm and organised. The pedestrian crossings have the sound of bird song to aid blind people. Even the toilets have taps that run water into cisterns that you can wash your hands underneath whilst it is still clean. It's all in hand, but this creates doubt in me. There must be a downside to this control. Things have there place, but can they grow at will? The trees are closely trimmed, so I wonder if the school kids have their wings clipped in private too.

Today we visited Nara (capital of Japan from 710AD - 784AD) we walked through more park land where tame deer rome as a tourist attraction. You can pet and feed the deer, aided by a vendor selling oatcakes. You give the attendant 150 Yen for a pack of the biscuits, you feed the deer, the deer defecate where they stand and the attendant clears the faeces up immediately with a brush and pan. It's anything but organic, in fact it's pointless. As a result of all the human influence the deer are very bold and one of the buggers ripped a hole in my plastic bag and nicked a banana out of it, when I'd hardly even set foot in the park.

An exception to this regulation and rigidity I mention is the Japanese love of improvised jazz which plays everywhere. James and I visited the Blue Note bar in downtown Kyoto last night to listen to a local quartet play. The bar itself was great, crammed full of Jazz vinyl and interesting people.The band were pretty good and the vituoso trumpeter managed to produce the most filthy sound I've ever heard emanate from a trumpet during his opening flourish. We also learnt to say 'o-kee-nee' (that's how you pronouce it), which means 'thanks' in this region.