Saturday, February 3rd, 2001
When I was in Tokyo, I noticed yellow bumps in the sidewalk everywhere. There is a row of little yellow ridges down each sidewalk, and in the train station. They are just tall enough you can feel them, but certainly not tall enough to trip over. I immediately assumed that it was to divide the flow of foot traffic when things get crowded at rush hour. Then I started noticing that it doesn't always run down the middle of the walkway...okay, there are areas where there is almost always more traffic one way than the other. Makes sense, right? They are in Nagoya and Kyoto too, but in Kyoto I see them in places where I can't imagine that much foot traffic, and always along one side of the sidewalk. I was walking up the hill towards some temples, following a broad, busy street up the gentle rise. The sidewalks here weren't full of pedestrians, and when I came up on a pedestrian overpass bridge, the bumps moved over towards the base of the bridge, and suddenly it dawned on me; they are guides for the blind! A country that is hell for those in wheelchairs, but helpful for those with sight impairment! Now I understand the "rumble strips" before each flight of stairs or crosswalk. Interesting realization, if a little slow in coming.

I start the day at Kinkakuji, the world famous "Golden Pavilion." The entrance is a broad straight approach along a wide, tree-lined pedestrian avenue...it is so beautiful on a cold, clear morning with winter sunlight filtering horizontally through the trees! A small group of very wild schoolgirls come running up to me and yell, "Hello!...Gudo Morningu!" and run off immediately, mortified and blushing, giggling the whole way. Hehehe! It is already getting crowded, but I manage to claim a large space between tour groups for my own, and go around the route on my own, enjoying some spectacular views of the gold, and of the gardens. It is hard to ignore the fact that the building is an exact reproduction (most everything old here has burned or was bombed) but even this spectacular assemblage of gold-colored wood, grass, and bamboo isn't fireproof.

There are two moutains called Daimonji in Kyoto, one East and one West. They both have the Kanji, "Dai" written on a clearing on the face of the mountain. My guide book described climbing up Daimonji, so I tried to find the trailhead with the guidebook, but the directions were confusing. I hit the road from Kinkakuji towards the hills to see if there is another way around. I walk through an interesting residential neighborhood at the base of the hills...the details aren't all worth mentioning, but the experience was an interesting observation of daily life...a house remodel, some crazy on-street parking jobs, and not very many people out and about. The settled area transitions from the edge of the city to a narrow finger up a creek bottom as I get up into a valley. I look for people to ask for help, but don't really see anyone. I end up at....a....I'm not sure...maybe some sort of artist's compound, or a....gated community of some sort? A few cars drive past, indifferent to my muddled despair on the curb. My hike up there was repeated in reverse when I came back down. I checked the guide book again, and try to follow the directions to the trailhead, but get chewed out by a gaurd in the bus parking lot of Kinkakuji! I left in despair, and finally figured out that the guidebook was probably referring to the other Daimonji...man, am I dense!

I ride the bus back into the center of town to go to Nijo-jo...Nijo Castle, part of which is also known as Ninomaru Goten (Maru is circle.) It was a castle, a sort-of second home for the Shogun, a military ruler. After buying an entrance ticket from the vending machine, I surrender the ticket to the worker who is right next to the vending machine (!!) and she immediately, without saying anything, hands me an English guide. I realize that Japan is probably unique among travel destinations in that it is easier as a foreigner to be American than it is to be Canadian, Australian, European, etc. Most Japanese eyes seem to first see tall honky=American. I can't imagine what it must be like as a German tourist, having everyone assume you speak English all the time, asking about America, they end up disappointed, and you end up offended when they find out you aren't American. The castle is impressive in both its size and the beauty and detail of its construction. The tour inside requires removal of my shoes...they go in a cubby for later retreival. I walk the route around the perimeter of the castle, listening to the song of the "Nightengale Floor." The floorboards are designed to squeak to help prevent assassins from sneaking in undetected! The screen paintings inside are ancient and in some areas, not very well preserved.

To be continued....

February 4th, 2001

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