Port Call: Thailand

Two weeks after Korea, the ladies and I headed for Narita airport, bound for Thailand.

We flew into Bangkok, but didn't get a chance to see any of the city. We instead, got into a big ole' van and headed south, for Pattaya.

Pattaya is a... colorful city. With all... types of people. Are you getting the meaning from all of my.... ellipses?

We went on a couple of tours, including an elephant ride, and an ox cart ride (both too bumpy for my liking). The other was to Ancient Siam, which was fascinating. It's a park built by a Thai millionaire, with recreations and scale models of various famous buildings in Thailand that were or are still around. It's more than 200 acres, and even though we had a golf cart to take our 6-person group around, we didn't see as much as we would've liked.

We went with the Det 2 boss, another pilot and his wife, and our enthusiastic tour guide. That thing behind us in this picture is the first part of a 3-level temple on the edge of Thailand. This one's not even big enough to walk inside of, so it looks much farther away than it is.  Anyway, the real Preah Vihear temple is on Thai land, but was built by Cambodia waaaay back in the 11th century. It's been in dispute for more than a hundred years. It has turned violent on several occasions, so almost no one's allowed to set foot on the actual temple. It's probably pretty easy to keep people away since our guide says that it's built on a mountain so high that you can't see the actual temple from the ground.

This is a scale replica of Sanphet Prasat Palace. It's a really big replica, with beautiful glass work and inlaid mother of pearl.

Queen Elizabeth II visited this actual replica in the 70s during a state visit to Thailand.

History and culture aside, the best part of a trip to Thailand is the food. It's so spicy, but so delicious. The Papaya Salad was my favorite, made with thinly sliced green papaya, tomatoes, nuts, dried shrimp, herbs, and of course, red peppers. It's dressed with a kind of sweet, citrusy dressing. Amazing.

Also, the crab fried rice and crab curry we had at a place on the water called Moom Aroi. They had a Thai band that sang a lot of English songs (Michael Buble, Colbie Caillat, and the like). The diction and pronunciation of the words were basically perfect, and yet it still sounded as if they were only making the sounds and had no idea what the words meant. It was the strangest thing.

Even stranger, though, everyone in our group tried the Pad Thai at different times, at different places, and we all agreed that the best Pad Thai we'd had wasn't in Thailand. Go figure.

The fresh coconut water out of green coconuts, though, was awesome.

Also, we spent a couple days lounging by the pool and getting massages by a super friendly Thai lady at the hotel. She wanted to know why I didn't have children yet (none of your business), would I bring my children back ( you mean to Pattaya? not likely.), and I looked like I wasn't married (because apparently she thinks all married ladies are fat). She then told Blake we would have a girl child. I guess she's never seen the Godfather.

The restaurants were great. The beach was gross. The nightlife was colorful.

Another successful port call....

and another future scavenger hunt. I know I've seen green papaya around these parts.

Hakuba Highlights

On our second trip up to Hakuba this year, we stopped on our way back to Matsumoto Castle. For me, a non-skier, non-snowboarder, sightseeing and relaxing were the highlights of the three trips we took this winter. Every trip, though, Blake said it was the best snowboarding of his life.

One of my favorites was the alcohol cooler Claire, Megan and I made with our own six hands.

The bottom is cut off in the picture, but we made that sucker from the bottom up. I packed so much snow with my hands that I had bruises on my palms. Not a joke.

Another favorite: Mon Pigeon. It's a fabulous, amazing, freakin' delicious French bakery. It's filled with a hodgepodge of candles and figurines, comfortable furniture, and two of the cutest golden retrievers ever, and two cats who are more of the lurking type than the rub against your feet type. Their pizza is the stuff dreams are made of, and it's hard to resist their cake case, full of fussy, fruity, glaze-y, cakes.

On one of our trips, it warmed up a bit and ended up raining instead of snowing. On that day, the dogs wore wetsuits. WETSUITS. FOR DOGS.

Once again, this is a dog in a wet suit. I mean, come on people.

We probably won't make it back up to Nagano this winter. Blake just left on another deployment a couple of days ago. This summer, though, we may go up and see what all those beautiful mountains look like in the summer.

We'd have to bring our own cooler, though.

Kyoto 2013

We've been to Kyoto before, but couldn't resist going again. I'd go five more times if I could. 

Yes, this is a picture that's supposed to be just Blake and me, but that little girl is adorable!

Our ryokan was on the north side of Kyoto, and there was a really cool stone pathway across the river. There were two perfectly serviceable bridges on either side, but this way was much more fun.

Some of the stones were just squares, but some were turtles or stingrays.

More to come...

Tokyo Edo Museum

Twelve hours after I got back from America, I went on a field trip.

Was it a good idea? Could I stay awake the whole time? Where was the nearest vat of coffee? These were the questions I asked myself on the way to here---

Ryogoku Station, which is known mostly for its proximity to sumo. This neighborhood wrecks the BMI average of the entire country. We saw a couple of sumo wrestlers while walking around, which was pretty cool.

We were a group of ten or so, and luckily, eight of us were Japanese and knew what was going on. The other two of us were the former (her) and current (me) teachers of the class trip's students. They go on a field trip once a year and it was a great chance for turnover.

First, lunch at the Dai-Ichi Hotel Ryogoku. It had a great Viking (which is what the Japanese call a buffet). It also had a perfect view of Tokyo Skytree.

Lunch was a great time to eat and chat. Plus, someone made paper cranes for each place setting, and I ended up with all the cranes at my table, so I have a whole family.

The cranes were just a perk, though. The main event was really the Tokyo Edo Museum. I did not give this museum nearly enough time or attention due to jet lag and interest in the first floor gift shop. I'll return at a later date because the museum is beautiful, and really interactive. I mean, look at all the things you can do!

You can sit in a palanquin:

You can pick up a matsui like an old timey Japanese firefighter:

These were used like guidons, basically it's held aloft so a group can identify its rally point. The guidons at Blake's college were a lot more flag-like and less weird-wooden-triangle-thing. And let me tell you, at the Tokyo-Edo Museum, they really let you experience the weight of history. Literally. This stuff is heavy.

I went over to these buckets expecting a lesson in balance. Instead, I got 50 pounds of rocks on my shoulder. This picture shows the highest I was able to lift the buckets due to the weight and my height. I would have made a terrible water schlepper.

Anyone want more examples of manual labor disguised as a museum exhibit?

Rachel was my lucky passenger. It wasn't much a ride, though, since it was bolted to the floor.

See that stone wall behind us? That's inside the museum. In fact, there's a whole bridge inside the museum. It's a replica of Nihonbashi, which was built during the Edo Period. A new version is still in use today in the Nihonbashi district in Tokyo.

My favorite part, however, was definitely the models.

There were huge tables of beautifully detailed models. Little people so life-like that I'm pretty sure they come alive after the museum closes. I mean, if someone built a whole tiny, little city, it can't be purely decorative, right?

Next time I go back, I'll bring these photos along for comparison. I'm pretty sure the people will have moved. Prepare yourselves for scientific breakthrough.

It was a long day, but I'm glad I fought back my jet lag long enough to visit. Between the food, sumo and history, Ryogoku is definitely worth a second look. It's an area of Tokyo I'd never heard of, and can't wait to visit again.

Lock-up Restaurant- aka: a meal in jail

When Blake asked if I'd like to go to a jail-themed restaurant, I did not picture something like this:

We went with a friend from the squadron and his Japanese girlfriend. Shinjuku is a crazy busy part of Tokyo and I am positive that unless you speak Japanese, your chances of locating this place are zero. It's on the 6th and 7th floor, above a drugstore.

We stepped off the elevator and it was dark. Like, someone forgot to pay the jail's electricity bill or something. Izumi and I looked at each other. The looks of two people who do not like to be scared, and have learned to be paranoid. This place was majorly creepy.

The hostess won't let you in until you put your hand in a little guillotine. Don't worry, they don't take off your hand! I know, you were worried there for a second, huh?

The hostess was dressed as a policewoman. And by policewoman, I mean "who is the groom and where should I set my boombox?" kind of policewoman.

The above vampire gave us our first sign that the jail-themed restaurant was more of a jail-ish theme. Blake got handcuffed to the stripper hostess and she led us down a poorly lit set of stairs to our table. Blake told me later that all he could think about was what would happen to the girl if he gave the chain one good, solid yank. Such a gentleman.

Now, I'm going to be honest here, it's pretty hokey. For example, the walls were basic black that someone had taken a sponge treatment to with a color that was very reminiscent of a number two. Blake and I sat under a velvet painting of the guy straight out of the Goosebumps TV show (remember that one? I don't, because I was waaay to chicken to watch it). The jail bars that keep you in your booth, however, are rusty, metal and very heavy. The waitress doesn't actually lock the doors, but the sliding sound of the metal bars is very distinctly "jail," or at least, that's what it sounds like in the movies.

They serve tasty drinks in beakers, with syringes, sometimes with eyedroppers, pop rocks and dry ice. Like I said, it was dark in there so these pictures are less than HQ.

Oreo and Kahlua

Pop Rock laced cotton candy with passion fruit and mango

So dinner is going along well. We ordered a "Russian Roulette" plate. Five potato croquettes, one of which has a habanero pepper inside of it. Sheer dumb luck that Izumi got it, who is the only one of us who doesn't care for spicy things. The food was good. The spicy chicken was really excellent.

And then, there was a jailbreak. Finally, we all saw why people go out of their way to come here. The lights went out and strobe lights started going crazy. We started hearing the cell doors opening and shutting in other parts of the restaurant. There were announcements in Japanese, but Izumi was too busy keeping guard to translate them for us.

I was sitting on the outside of the booth. A choice I immediately regretted. The wait staff donned scary masks and went around rattling doors, sticking their heads inside booths and generally trying to scare the bejesus out of people. It wouldn't normally be scary, but the strobe lights and bass-heavy music made it a little more high-energy. Then they played ABBA's "Dancing Queen," which was actually very much like a horror movie and made the whole thing much, much eerier.

The mayhem went on for what felt like forever. I sat at the door they opened the most, which was a blessing and a curse. Obviously, I had to keep watch like a hawk because they would come around the corner with no prior warning. It was a blessing because they stuck their heads in and basically past me so I didn't have to really look at any of them. One guy dressed in black did manage to catch me off guard though and yes, I screamed like a girl.

The scariest part? There was a lull in the escaped madmen and someone squeezed my shoulder. I screamed, jumped, and it turned out to be Blake. That man really knows how to take advantage of a weakness. You all may remember how he has scared me several times with a Mr. Bean mask his sister sent him for Christmas. Listen, when I don't have my glasses on, everyone looks like a stranger.

When it was over, I had headache that was as much from tension as it was from the metal bars clanging. I was tense the entire rest of the meal. Logically, they weren't going to do another "floor show" so soon after the last one, and they can't go around scaring people who might choke on their food. Still, my body would not abandon its vigil and I was glad to get out of there.

It's the kind of thing that adults can appreciate, but it will scare the crap out of a six-year-old. I'm more of a six-year-old than an adult when it comes to this kind of thing, but I am very glad we went. Octopus sashimi, test tubes of alcohol, characters in masks, and jail bars with Dracula are, surprisingly, a very Japanese experience.

Adventures of You

I loved Choose Your Own Adventure books. They were awesome. A whole lifetime of choices, and you didn't have to go anywhere (I suppose that goes for books in general).

I cheated. I mean, who wants to die on their second choice, right? So I (or, in the style of the book, you), kept your finger stuck in the page of your last choice, just in case you wanted a mulligan, which you always did because unlike life, in a CYOA, you can go back and climb up every single branch of the tree to see what could have been what.

As an aside, don't Google 'Choose Your Own Adventure' on a work computer because you will come up with some decidedly adult "adventures." I have found this site, however: My Adventure Game, which Norton says is safe and contains lots and lots of family-friendly adventures. Harder to cheat than the old fashioned way, though.

Blake and I had a real-life Choose Your Own Adventure today. It was Mother's Day, and since neither of our mothers are within hugging-distance, we consoled ourselves with a bike ride in the sunshine. A bicycle ride, not a motorcycle ride. Blake had already went for a ride yesterday through beautiful, windy, mountainous, biker's-heaven, Japanese roads near Hakone.

So we went for a bike ride. Instead of going our usual way, we went to Yamato, which is about a mile from the house. We were rewarded with Awaodori. We missed the dancing, but ate the food. O. M. G. The chicken and leek yakitori was the best. Holy hell that was good stuff. Also, they had delicious dim sum dumplings, battered and then deep fried, three on a stick. Yes. A delicious inside a delicious. A foodception.

Then, instead of going straight home, we took a new route. And discovered a park. A huge park with baseball fields, tennis courts and lots of room for picnic-ers. Beautiful.

Then, one more detour led us to a beautiful shrine-type building right next to our house. We were elated that such a beautiful building was so close to us, but were ashamed that we had failed to realize it.

It was a local Choose Your Own Adventure day, and very productive since it only took us a couple hours. We'd spent most of the afternoon kicking around Sagami-Ono while the Thruxton was at the garage. The tires were changed out since one of them had a nail in it and both of them had a weird wear pattern from riding all the straight roads in Florida.

It was a beautiful day for being out of the house. So we did. And our adventurous spirit was well rewarded...

with delicious food on sticks.

The Breathtaking View

Happy Hanami!

Hanami- cherry blossom viewing time
Sakura- Japanese cherry tree/blossoms

Hanami comes but once a year, and only for one or two weekends a year. All the hype is true. Cherry blossoms in Japan are absolutely, jaw-droppingly, beautiful.

Ueno Park

I hate crowds. I would do almost anything to avoid mobs of people wandering around at their own leisurely pace. I would rather eat a bowl of cereal for dinner than go to a grocery store on a Sunday afternoon.

Hanami is Japan-crowded (which is a special, extra inconvenient form of crowded wherein you are jam packed like pickles in a jar... if every pickle was shoving with both its elbows). Doesn't matter, the blossoms are worth it.

On Saturday, we met up with some friends from the squadron at Yoyogi Park in Tokyo. Everyone and everyone that they knew had marked out a spot of the park with a big tarp. The shoes were off, the food was plentiful and the drinking was a bit heavy-handed for noon.

Sea of tarps in Yoyogi Park

We set up camp chairs, a BBQ and commenced to hanging out. That is, until a cop came over and gave us guff about our BBQ... or our camp chairs... no one really understood what his problem was, but it was definitely related to our non-Japanese-ishness because plenty of other people were BBQ-ing or camp chair-ing and he didn't give them any trouble.

Problems with the law aside, Yoyogi was beautiful, and big enough that you could probably find a spot to set up a little area for yourself. Then again, it's so big that the sheer volume of women makes for one hell of a bathroom line. I kid you not, I wanted an hour to go potty.

The next day, Blake and I went to Ueno Park, which you may remember from this post. It was a much different place that Sunday. Dream-like in its huge, white blossoms. Nightmare-like in its crowds.

Ueno had different colors of cherry blossoms. That weekend was definitely peak for the traditional, white blossoms, but there were also bright pink ones out too.

I could not stop marveling at how beautiful it was. I gaped. I gushed. I had a husband who longed for earplugs to block out my chorus of, "I can't believe this. This is so beautiful. Have you ever seen anything this amazing?!"

 

 

These pictures were taken at Ueno Park. We walked under that beautiful canopy of blossoms in the background. On the other side of them is more water, filled with giant paddle boats shaped like swans. Blake and I were content just to wander around and take in the flowers. Plus, it was rush hour for amateur swan paddle boat enthusiasts. It looked dangerous out there.

We were exhausted by the end of the weekend, but it was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen (as Blake heard me say many times). That week, a storm came in and the wind and rain blew away a lot of hanami's beauty. But that didn't stop us from venturing out to take in some of its last beautiful views.

Until next year!

Tokyo Motorcycle Show 2012

It is a tale of endless longing, soul-crushing sadness, nail-biting tension, joy, frustration, and thousands of dollars. It is the story of Blake's motorcycle.

As many of you know, Blake and I worked long and hard getting his bike on the road. Then, once he was able to ride it, I was not able to be on it with him. If you want to carry a passenger on the back of your bike here, you have to take the Experienced Riders Course with a passenger on the back of your bike. So, not only is the rider on the bike for six hours, but the passenger is too. And let me tell you, this passenger's ass hurt like crazy after six hours on the seat.

The class is run by the Motorcycle Safety Foundation for personnel with SOFA status (it's a military thing for those living overseas). It's really informative and the teachers are amazing. They have really good tips and stories. The thing about bike people is that they are their hobby's greatest advocates, as well as greatest cautionary tales. It's a twofer every time you talk to a biker.

Unfortunately, at the Tokyo Motorcycle Show, we couldn't talk to many bikers because we don't speak the same language. That isn't the only different thing, though.

At Daytona, the fashion is very in your face. Beards in your face. Leather in your face. Over-tanned women in teeny, tiny clothing in your face.

At TMS, everyone looked very mainstream. All the off-center people were across the hall at the Anime convention. Note: that is not a joke, there was seriously an Anime convention in the other wing and we saw several interesting things that day.

I'm going straight to my favorite bike of the day:

Triumph's Steve McQueen Special Edition. They are only making 1,100 of them, and while I don't think I'd be on board with Blake buying one, it sure is pretty. Steve McQueen loved bikes and cars, and rode a Triumph in The Great Escape, an amazing movie that I cannot watch ever again because it has one of the saddest movie endings ever.

This bike can also be a generator. Very handy for outdoor rec. You can plug in a cook stove or a radio, or something that would make any camping adventure better, a laptop.

Of course it wouldn't be Japan if there weren't some interesting stuff around too.

It was a very cool day. We walked around and saw everything twice. By the end of the day, I'd had my fill of motorcycles. Blake, however, can never get enough.

Kyoto: Monkey Mountain Edition

Between the trip to San Diego and Blake coming home, I have been thrown off my blogging game. Blake reminded me that I had yet to finish writing about our time in Kyoto.

So, with apologies and pictures, here is more Kyoto, also known as... holy crap, more walking, holy crap, monkeys everywhere.

Iwatayama Monkey Park in Arashiyama overlooks Kyoto

Back when this monkey paradise was being set up, someone very smart decided to put the ticket booth at the bottom. Let me tell you, if I had known that scaling a mountain was part of the adventure, the day may have turned out differently.

It's a step-filled climb, the first part of which is dense trees and very pretty scenery. Then, as the trees become sparser and you see signs like this-

You come to realize what you may be getting yourself into.

After the sign (which is one step away from a skull and crossbones), you start to see glimpses. Out of the corner of your eye, a quick movement, a vague shape running across the top of the mountain, branches moving in your vicinity. Paranoia and fascination quickly form. The monkeys, however, are few and far between so you can't help but wonder if this was a tremendous rip off. If all you'll get to see are the ass-end of a few fleeing monkeys, it may not be worth the time or money. Wrong. So wrong. At the top, this awaits:

They wander around freely, generations upon generations of monkeys. That building in the background is the "ranger station," and where you go to feed the monkeys. The people are inside the cage.

These monkeys know what's up. They know the people have food, and they camp out the best spots. They are vocal, and they chase their tinier counterparts away, which is the opposite of endearing. We also had one more frightening call. What is the number one rule of the monkey park according to the scary sign? Do Not look a monkey in the eyes. If you ever go, please don't be a Blake and forget all about it and then get into a staring contest with one of the locals. The local will FREAK OUT and start monkey-screaming. It's pretty scary and we thought maybe it would come after us. So, we power walked away and acted nonchalant.

Despite the long climb and potential mauling, it was very much worth going.

It was also a bit of a train ride away, but there are a few attractions just outside of Kyoto that Blake and I had to see. In addition to Iwatayama, we went to the uber-famous Fushimi Inari Shrine.

Torii gate after Torii gate. The effect is really beautiful and would be mesmerizing, were it not for all the people.

Like seeing the monkeys on top of the mountain, we went into this, not knowing there was a real climb involved. The gates are very dense near the bottom, but spread our further and further as you get to the top.

The entire way up, there are people stopping to pray and light incense. There is a very specific procedure, bell ringing, bowing, clapping, and money. There are little stops along the way selling food and smaller torii gates, for those who can't afford a ginormous one.

All in all, the Kyoto trip was awesome and we'd like to go again. There is so much to do there and very difficult to see it all in one go. There is so much history, so much good food, and where else can you see geisha clip-clopping down stone streets at night?

California Rant/Recap

Japan did not greet me warmly. Instead, its "welcome back" was slushy, snowy rain, thick fog and cold. It was not California weather. The trains were packed with people going home from work. My Pasmo had 500yen on it. I had been too efficient in eating everything that could spoil before I left and so for dinner ended up having a salad. Or rather, a "salad." It was old romaine hearts and sesame salad dressing.

Now that I've unpacked and started settling back in from my almost three-week trip to California, here are the things I miss: shopping, eating, driving, communicating.

Here are the things I missed about Japan: trains (so no one has to rock, paper, scissors for DD), green tea (I tried many times to order a plain green tea and every single one had some kind of gross addition), and the ability to easily tune out other people's conversations because, well, they're in Japanese.

I have nothing to show you from my trip to California because I didn't take any pictures. I was in serious vacation-mode. Not just a location vacation, but a vacation where I forgot about filing taxes, paying bills, taking pictures for the blog and scrapbook, blogging and scrapbooking itself, and pretty much everything else that didn't involve Blake, eating or serious, serious shopping. Oh, the shopping. The clothes! The kitchen gadgets! The malls!

We did see many beautiful places though, including the Museum of Man, the Zoo, the Balboa Park nature trail, Phil's BBQ, Fashion Valley Mall, and Extraordinary Desserts. Hey, I didn't say they were all beautiful in the traditional sense.

It was so nice to be back in America for a bit, and so awesome being able to be with Blake without the threat of him being shipped off tomorrow, that I stayed an extra few days. We got to be together on Valentine's Day. I've never been too big on the holiday and Blake, being a man, has known from birth what a tremendous rip-off it is. This year, however, was really special.

It was very romantic.That morning, Blake had gotten up early to do a little work thing and came back around 8. I had been having trouble getting to sleep at night, and Blake, knowing this, quietly crept back into the room and laid next to me. He wrapped his arm around me, laid his face close to mine, and proceeded with a chorus of very loud and very cheery, "Happy Valentine's Day! Happy Valentine's Day, Honey." When my anti-enthusiasm was clear, he decided to force the issue by shaking me awake in time to his holiday greetings. Happy Valentine's Day indeed.

We visited Old Town, which is a state park with rebuilt historic buildings and lots and lots and lots of shopping. We got root beer floats because they were bogo, then took them outside into the cold and shivered while eating them. Blake bought a Mexican blanket that goes with nothing in our house, and then we split up so I could shop and Blake cold talk on the phone.

We went back to the room. We both started packing for our trips (mine back to Japan, Blake for his two weeks out on San Clemente Island for further training). Then, things got really intimate. I discovered the wireless usb adapter we'd bought wasn't compatible with the device we'd bought it for so we had to drive all the way back out to Best Buy where Greenpeace volunteers were really getting in people's faces about donating. Be still my heart.

Then I was starving, but Blake wasn't hungry so we did the proper Valentine's Day thing and decided to wait until we got closer to the base to eat, but ended up getting stuck in traffic for an hour because of some dumbhead's fender bender. oooh la la.

My hands were shaking as we pulled into the parking lot of the BOQ. The day was so overwhelmingly love-filled... or probably it was low blood sugar.

We ate pizza and wings and watched Harry Potter movies. We were cranky because we had to get up the next day at 5 to get me to the airport and knowing you have to say goodbye really puts a sad blanket over everything. We consoled ourselves with more food and soda and went to sleep.

And as much as all of that may look like nothing but a sarcastic rant, I must say that I enjoyed the whole day. We were together. And any day together is better than any day spent apart.

I bought Blake a Belgian waffle maker for Valentine's Day. He's long desired crispy, fluffy, delicious gorgeousness at our fingertips on the weekends, but there isn't really room in our kitchen for something that just makes waffles and bacon (Alton Brown is a genius). But I was in vacation-mode. And it was on sale. And it was there. And they are delicious.

I look forward to Blake bringing it (and himself) home in a couple of weeks. He is loathe to leave California weather behind, but not me. I am well aware people think I am crazy for not wanting to live in sunshine every day of the year, but trust me, there are many better reasons to think I'm crazy.

Although I did tweet that it was freeze-your-ass-off cold here when I got back, it wasn't a complaint. I liked yesterday's gray and snowy day just as much as I liked today's sunny one. So the cold and the fog weren't all that bad to come home to. I enjoyed the crowded train. The three little girls across the street waved big, huge waves when I left the house this morning. Although now that I think about it, I don't know if they were being really friendly, or shooing me away, hoping I'd left for good. I couldn't tell by their faces because they had all gotten colds and were wearing white surgical masks that covered half their faces. It is good to be home.

Winter in Kyoto: Part 1

We rode a Shinkansen. It was awesome. Shinkansen or "bullet trains" are like airplanes, with more leg room, more bathrooms and really great views. It's crazy fast and crazy comfortable and crazy expensive.

Our round-trip tickets from Yokohama to Kyoto (about 280mi), were more than 50,000yen. You don't want to know how much that is with the current horrific exchange rate. It's something that we had to do, though, at least once.

We saw Fuji and fields and beautiful, snowy scenery. We don't get much snow around here and it was nice to see. There wasn't snow in Kyoto either, which turned out to be a good thing, considering the insane amount of walking we did.

Each day was an adventure... an adventure in hiking without the proper footwear.

The first day we hauled our luggage to our hotel, the Super Hotel Kyoto Shijo Kawaramachi. The chain is Super Hotel, the specific location is Kyoto Shijo Kawaramachi. For those of you stateside, who need a little help with pronunciation, it sounds just like it looks. Kee-yo-to Shee-jo *mumble, mumble, mumble*. It was tiny, but clean and friendly and cheap, at around 8,500yen a night. The pillows were uniquely designed to be as exactly like natural rock as possible. They're filled with small, hard, plastic balls. It was really unbelievable(ly uncomfortable).


On our first day, we went on a tour of the Kyoto Imperial Palace. Basically, the tour guide takes you around and tells you about the various buildings, but you can't go in any of them. Once in awhile, there's still an actual state function there. Pretty cool.

Blake and I both preferred Nijo Castle, though, where you can still walk inside.

Not only can you walk inside, but they have a nightingale floor. They were used way back in the day as a security measure. No one could walk in the halls undetected. Every step caused (and still causes) a squeaky chirp noise. The one at Nijo Castle is one of the most famous. It's very awesome, and very weird. Every step is delightful when it's just you, bouncing up and down, testing its durability and your husband's patience (sorry, Blake). When there is a large group of tourists shuffling along in too-big slippers (no shoes allowed), the noise is pretty distracting.

The rooms are mostly bare, with beautiful paintings on the walls. They didn't have a lot of furniture back then, and decorated on the walls instead. Also, taking pictures isn't allowed, so I can't share anything from the inside.

Outside, though, everything is fair game. There are beautiful gardens. Even in the winter, you could see how perfectly everything was landscaped. Then there was this thing. Straight out of Dr. Seuss.

This crazy straw construct is protecting an actual tree. It's slightly more complicated than throwing a blanket on a bush before a frost, which is the way I was taught to protect plants. This looks cooler than a blanket, though.

Each gate to the castle is beautiful, intricate, and huge. The roofs are very special. They're made from strips of cedar bark, carefully laid on top of one another and secured with wooden toothpicks. It's very slow work and very expensive to keep up.

This is a display of the cedar roofs that was at the Imperial Palace. The cedar pieces are skinny and almost paper-thin so to build up a roof thickness of that size on an entire building takes years. Once they finish restoring the roofs, it's time to start all over again.

That is the amazing thing about Kyoto, though. They're so dedicated to preserving their history and culture. When I was planning our trip, basically there were shrines, temples, pagodas and... .... .... ... well, you'd better enjoy historic buildings, a lot. It's easy to experience shrine-fatigue. The key is to have someone like Blake with you, who knows that a few shrines are enough. I suffer massive cultural guilt. Someone went to a lot of trouble to preserve these so I AM GOING. Blake is more realistic, though and knows we all need a break. Like, the Arashiyama Monkey Park, where more than a hundred monkeys play king of the world, and the humans are the ones in the cages. More on Planet of the Apes to come.

Stuck in Christmasville

Was the Migayase Tree Lighting trip truly a beautiful, cheery, Christmas wonderland... or were we all victims of Stockholm Syndrome?


Five hours is an excessive amount of time for looking at Christmas lights. And when I think a Christmas light show is running long, then you know it must be ridiculous. I mean, when we lived in New York, I used to drag Blake to Wonderland of Lights in Utica every year, an event usually only awe-inspiring to the under ten crowd. You got to stay in your car, tune in your radio to their Christmas station and crawl your car down the pathway, marveling at all the pretty, shiny things.

Every year, the same conversation:
Me: Isn't this beautiful?
Blake: It's wonderful.

I know that everyone reading this can hear his sarcasm as clear as the bells of St. Mary's (extra points if you know the Christmas connection to that reference, and also, that movie is so SAD, geez it's sad).

This year, I dragged Blake to the tiny Japanese town of Miyagase, where they do Christmas the right way. The little park, with its food stalls and restaurants, was lit up with displays. No, actually, that's not correct. When we got there, everything was switched off.

We arrived at three o'clock. Those of you familiar with reality may realize that even in the winter, it's still light out at three. So, we scoped out the food. There were a lot of good smells and we snacked along the way. You can only walk past a crepe stand so many times before you need to get one... even if you technically didn't even walk by it, you just saw it and made a beeline for the order window.

We passed the time until dark by listening to the musicians they had playing. Really, really good stuff. You've heard of hand bell choirs? Well, we saw a cow bell choir. I won't even say that it needed more cowbell. These ladies were awesome.

There was also a steel drum band. Because, as Blake said, nothing says Christmas like Japanese people playing Caribbean music with a fog machine. They were amazing though.

Finally, it was dark. All the lights went on, and it was beautiful. The biggest Christmas tree lighting in Japan, a tree almost 100ft tall.

That winding path to the right is a narrow suspension bridge, the whole thing lit up from start to finish.

We paid our 300yen (each) and started the long, colorful walk to the other side. As soon as we got on, the whole thing rocked back and forth, which I knew was the very thing that makes suspension bridges safe... but that was my head. My guts were telling me that this bridge was the pedestrian-only version of the Titanic and we power-walked the first half of the way (or 150yen worth (each)).

Once I calmed down, the walk was lovely, if a bit cold up there. Blake didn't have gloves, so he was a little cold. I had a hand warmer, sort of, but only for my left hand. It was a turkey leg. Oh, I didn't tell you about that? Let me start by saying this: I've always thought peppermint was a more appropriate flavor for Christmas than tripe, a statement I still stand by.

A long line of people were at this little soup stand. Naturally, we queued up. I pointed to one huge tub of soup and Blake pointed to the other. Blake got a wonderful mix of vegetables and broth, everything cooked just right, and perfect for warming him up. At this point we were all freezing our various body parts off. I got.. well... I didn't know what it was at first. It smelled a little gamey, but I can never read the menus, so I was used to taking what I could get. I deserve it for not learning to read the language.

I ate it. Tasted weird. Very weird. I inspected it, only to discover it was tube-shaped. Huh. And wrinkly. Huh. And.. OH MY GOD I was eating poop chute. Tripe always looks so exotic and exciting when someone on the Travel Channel is wolfing it down. Well, these intestines were gross. A complete snack fail.

So, I went and got a smoked turkey leg, which was delicious. It was also huge. I could not finish that thing. I sheathed the remainder in a paper bag and stuck it in my pocket to snack on later. I stuck my hand in my pocket when it got cold and voila! hand warmer. I think I could make a killing on these. I mean, they taste amazing and hold heat incredibly well.

When we got done with the bridge and had walked back to the little village there were still two hours left. We were at a loss. We'd seen everything about five times. We were trapped. So, we did the logical thing and got more crepes.

That left us with about four hours and forty-five minutes. Panic started to set in. Suddenly, the Christmas music sounded like it was mocking us. The crowds were thicker. The smells weren't so tempting any more.

So we went back to the bus. Thankfully, the doors were open and a few other people had also seen enough of the festivities. It was a little warmer in there and would have been a nice place to hibernate had it not been for the Chatty Cathy in the back.

Eventually, we did make it home. In true Jeeana fashion, my Christmas spirit (and old-person level of nostalgia) is already erasing the hours of toe-tapping boredom, replaced by the twinkling LEDs and happy Japanese children, holding bags of cotton candy whose size rivaled their own. And crepes. Those delicious crepes.

Blake, however, has sworn off MWR trips. I mean, this is his second trip, and each trip, MWR's timing has been awful (remember the Tokyo Motor Show Traffic?). Still, he's said we can go back next year... as long as we drive ourselves.

In conclusion: Merry Christmas from Japan. We have our fake tree all lit up, with real presents underneath, Christmas cookies in the kitchen, and my Scentsy Christmas smell is like Christmas Crack.

It's certainly not like Christmas back at home, but beautiful nonetheless. Miyagase was festive and cheery and everything you'd expect from a Japanese Christmas celebration. No, there was no gigantic red, white and blue American flag display to remind us of our American Christmases, but there was a Japanese equivalent.

Hello Christmas

Noodle-rific

Cup Noodles are a big deal in Japan. See that silvery statue in the back? That's the guy who invented the instant noodle as we know them today, Momofuku Ando. This statue had a steady stream of people wanting a photo-op. I can't even begin to imagine the number of peace signs this statue has overseen.

Ando developed instant noodles as an easily accessible, familiar, and cheap, food for post-war Japan. Their purpose is pretty much the same these days. I used to eat a lot of ramen back in the day... until I bothered to look on the back of the package. Hooooly crap, there is a lot of sodium in those things.

But that didn't stop Blake and me from visiting the Cup Noodles Museum in Yokohama last weekend.

They have a whole room of ramen packages dating back to when they were first marketed. Here, I'm standing in front of the more recent noodle packages. I do have a picture of Blake, but perspective-wise, the wall looks a lot more impressive with my shortness in front of it.

All the history was interesting. They even have a replica of the cabin-like workshop Ando developed the noodles in, a unique boiling, then frying procedure.

We were really there to design our own Cup of Noodles, though.

We bought empty, styrofoam noodle cups and sat down to decorate them with about a million other people.

Blake's was, of course, precision perfect. He carefully colored in the Cup Noodles logo with black. He used the back to name his cup, "Mystery Flavor." Since you all know me, you get one guess as to what my cup was all about. Christmas. Duh. I hoarded the red and green markers and went to town on that cup. Two Christmas trees, stars, and a cheerful Merry Christmas. Well, it was more like "Meery Christmas." I was so focused on making the letters that I forgot how to spell basic words. No matter. One Japanese woman's cup proclaimed , "I Love Needles."  Either she mistook the e's for o's, or she has an unhealthy and very public obsession with pointy things.

We stood in a long line to fill our cups with goodness. The noodles are pre-shaped into cup shapes and the cup is placed upside down over them, then turned upright, to avoid noodles dropping into the cup all wonky and slowing the whole system. Then, they're turned upright.

The best part is picking out the flavors and various dehydrated meats and vegetables.

We got to pick one flavor base and four other ingredients. I got chicken and Blake got seafood. The labels were all in Japanese, but they had pictures by them so you could distinguish that the green bits were green onions, brown was garlic, yellow was corn, pink bits were shrimp, that other pink was pork and that other, other pink was crab.

The cups were sealed, then, the ingenious Japanese had devised a way to safely transport your noodles home. You stuck your cup in the middle of a big plastic sleeve, then inflated it into a big air cushion, like putting the noodles in the middle of one of those cozy fur muffs you see old timey ladies wear when they're caroling with guys in tuxes with mutton chops. Geez that was confusing, but I can't think of a better way to explain it. Loop a string through it for carrying and that puppy wasn't going anywhere.

We happily carried our cups around like noodle-filled purses. I ate mine yesterday and it was very tasty indeed. Blake has yet to eat his. Even though he made it himself, maybe the title of "mystery flavor" is subconsciously off-putting.

Whatever the reason, I don't think the pre-packaged flavors will ever taste the same. Then again, there are entire grocery aisles filled with instant noodles in almost any combination of flavors one could want. Maybe it's time to give instant noodles another try.