(Not) Alone in Kyoto

Transit to Kyoto took shy of three hours, but the stress may have taken hours off of our lives. Tokyo JR (Japan Rail) station is a sea of frenzied Japanese sprint-walkers. The reasons we weren't separated are simple:

• We could both see clear over their heads.
• We were wearing our neon down jackets in a sea of drab trenchcoats.

We spent our first afternoon in Kyoto at the Nijo palace, and purchasing our "permission slips" for some of the better-protected national treasures. A visibly upset European girl was in the slip office when we arrived. The women behind the counter were extremely polite, yet seemed unable to help her with her issue. She stormed out, and the Japanese women shared high-pitched, squeaky chuckles. We joined in. Good times.

The most interesting feature of the ancient Nijo palace was the "Nightinggale floors" - floorboards that sound like a pleasant bird call when tread upon, for intruder alerts. They acieved this by building in a few millimeters of space between the boards and the studs below. Selling your property? Don't forget to accentuate your Nightinggale Floors.

We spent the evening in the Gion district, a historical-yet-hip corner of Kyoto. Unable to find a "cute" dinner spot for less than $30/dish we ducked into another noodle bar and got loaded on sake rice wine. Not a bad compromise.

We did some shopping - Sara found a must-have purse "that's OK to buy because look how well it can pack down into our suitcases." I looked for a crazy-hip Japanese t-shirt, like one with a ninja killing a dragon who's eating a snake with huge fangs - but all the hip Japanese shirts have nihilistic English wording on them, like "High as Hell," or "Rockabilly Jim's," or simply "F-ck." No t-shirt acquired.

We searched for ice cream on the way back. Guess whose idea? Wrong - Scott wanted to sample the Haagen Dazs caramel crunch bar that's exclusively marketed in Asia. We found it at a grocery store and enjoyed it in our complementary hotel kimonos. In Sara's words - "Mmmmazing!"