Coworker Meetups - March 30 and 31, 2016

I ate more. But Wednesday and Thursday were also spent chatting with coworkers, usually while eating. 

On Wednesday lunch I tagged along with Bianca and Harrison to Din Tai Fung - a soup dumpling chain all across Asia (with a branch in Seattle!), but, reputably, the Taiwanese versions are the best. 

Nana had mentioned hanging out with me that night, and she suggested the Danshui Old street.

She had a later call, so I spent an hour around the Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall. I was perhaps more dazzled by the opera and performance halls that flanked it - their traditional red architecture and massive size. 

Surrounding the massive buildings and in the broad stone square below were dance groups. Dozens and dozens of school children dancing hip hop, line dances, and clapping combinations of the two. Apparently the area around the buildings is a great public place to practice. Instead of going inside the performance hall, you could just wander around outside it instead!

The memorial hall was in honor of the first president; the changing of the guard is a tourist attraction during the day, but sitting and watching the world on one of the 89 steps is a great date location. No date meant I was instead back on the metro headed to Tamsui. 

Nana and I found each other, then proceeded to eat our way through yet another area of Taipei. Fried mushrooms, fried squid balls, and a final sit down meal at to get 'ah gei' (阿给), tofu skin with glass noodles. 

We wandered a bit farther along the water, wandering into the final open shop and munching on our pineapple rolls. They reminded me of melon pan, the most amazing food on earth, but we a slight hint of fruit. 

My final day in the Taipei office ended with a happy hour at a Japanese bistro - French wine and Japanese food go surprisingly well together! Rare steak, crab soup, and fried oysters while we regaled the new hire with APT lore; he did a good job of keeping us entertained with his own stories from school in the Middle East. 

Tintin was insistent that I try some mango ice, so we stopped by Ice Monster. Who was out of mango. We tried strawberry and bubble tea instead - for future notice, fruit is definitely the way to go. 

A "hop" to San Francisco and then a jump to DC, and I'm going to have the longest April Fool's Day, with no opportunities for jokes! But, it's just a goodbye for now - with the diving and the mountains and the food, I'll be back, Taiwan!

Night Markets - March 28 and 29, 2016

My first day of work in Taipei didn't go great in terms of productivity, but I really enjoyed meeting my coworkers. Lunch was late, with the four of us that weren't part of a client team out for noodles and a mix of other little dishes, including slightly spicy sautéed tofu.

I polled my coworkers for ideas for the evening, and we came up with the Raohe Street Market. A twenty minutes metro ride, and a line for peppered pork buns about the same length. 

Have I mentioned how much I love Taiwan? I showed up for the first week of beautiful weather that they've had this month. The view from the office includes the surrounding mountains. And then, there's the food. 

So, the pork bun was just a start. The amount of food was so overwhelming, I decided that the only things I would try were things that had lines. 

And apparently, bun-shaped things. After the pork bun was a fried mochi ball. 

Then were these mochi balls with crushed peanuts. Those were the best.

 

Well, but then I had to try the stinky tofu. It was fried, but the air around the stall was a bit pungent. A bubble tea (though don't ever get one with red bean bubbles - original tapioca pearls are way better) was the final selection for the evening. 

Don't worry, I did slightly more than just go to another night market on Tuesday. I climbed up Elephant Mountain!

The view over Taipei, specifically of Taipei 101, was definitely worth the twenty minutes of stairs. 

I'm still not positive if I got to the lookout that I was supposed to get to (another case of following ambiguous "go left at the split" when there were a couple different forks in the road), but I got some pretty nice pictures, so I was happy. 

And hungry - more night markets! I walked from the Xinyi Anhe station down through the Tonghua Street night market, that merged pretty seamlessly into the Linjiang Street market. 

Ready for the foods of Linjiang? First, these amazing sweet potato balls with seaweed sprinkled on them. Well, I guess first was actually this Chinese sandwich that I got with peanut sauce, but it was kinda dry, so we'll skip that one. 

We had had a long discussion at lunch (a great office meal with everything from roast chicken to cabbage to tofu to baked fish) about fruits in Taiwan, which really just resulted in me wanting to try all of them, especially "star fruit."

Well, I didn't actually have that, but I had custard fruit, which was amazing.

 

And these cross between an apple and a pepper called wax apples. It actually mirrors both those fruits pretty closely - crispy but a mild, just barely sweet flavor. 

Bianca and Vida had been encouraging me to try a foot massage, so after my walk up a mountain, I figured they deserved it. 

My feet got a nice hot soak to start with. Then, the massage was really tickle-y for about two minutes before she started kneading my sole, then calves. The pants I was wearing were too tight to roll up, so I had this ridiculous pair of floral pajama shorts. 

I bought a cheesecake to eat at home, but the final stall as I was leaving had a line for dumplings. Well, if there was a line, then I had to get in it! She wouldn't sell me just one, so five started on the trip home with me. Only one was left when I made it back to the hotel. 

Pingxi, Taiwan - March 27, 2016

As I was snuggled down in my giant bed in my giant room over looking Taipei and the mountains beyond, I decided I probably shouldn't just stay there all day. So, I escaped to the mountains. 

Which is pretty easy in Taiwan. It's like a big mountain sticking out of the ocean. 

So, I've revealed before that I have a weakness for stairs - confronted with the option to climb and see the world from above, I do. Now, I have another weakness. 

Waterfalls. Man, water spraying off a cliff, diving into a pool, and then bouncing along a stream - bliss. And when I found a trail in a province that I could get to via an old coal train, with not one, not two, but three waterfalls on it (and a fourth on the train line for good measure), I was in. 

The forecast was mediocre, but it was warm. So I packed up my backpack, and I took an Uber into the mountains. I know, I know, I'll take the train later. The 40 minute Uber was just $20! 

After the non-English-speaking driver and I passed a few buildings, and some crossing guards, after just highway, I figured I was roughly in the right place. And I was right!

Jingtong had the train museum (I just took pictures of the figures in the picture window), various booths and stalls, and my first view of a lantern flight. Pingxi is the only place in Taiwan that allows these four-foot paper lanterns to be lit and float away. (Which kinda makes sense - they eventually come back down and generate some sad, wet clumps of paper.) But, writing the blessings and wishes then sending them off into the sky is a beautiful sentiment, so I helped a family take pictures of their hopes and dream rise up and get carried away in the light breeze. 

Of course, this happens on the train tracks, between the roughly hourly departures. 

I had bought tickets (potentially three of them, because he said a number that I thought was thirty, so I held up three fingers, and ended up paying 60NT ($2), but getting three pieces of paper.

 

I had just enough time to walk down to the "lover's bridge" to see the mass of bamboo tubes that had more prayers and wishes on them. There is a lot of hope to express around here. 

I got on the train with a few people, but not the masses I would encounter later. I decided to sit in the front car with the conductor so I could see our journey. 

I was soon joined my a man with a Lions hat and his partner. There were some clear signs, in Chinese and English, above the conductor's door that said to not speak to him or disturb him. Those were dutifully ignored. So you won't be able to see the picture I took of him, since he asked (with my new Lions friend translating) for me not to post it. 

What I am going to show is this great "key" that they use to signify who has the right of way on a strength of these one-lane tracks. There are a few stations where two trains can pass, but between them, it's bad news bears if they came across each other. So each stretch of track has a big metal loop with a symbol on it that represents the stretch. When two trains met at a station in the middle, they traded keys so they could be assured no other trains were on the track. 

A pretty cool system.

It was also nice making friends with the conductor because he would point out all the waterfalls along the tracks and slow down for me. I think he was supposed to blow the whistle in the tunnels, but we can pretend he did that for me too. Before I got off, we traded pictures - I took one of him, and he took one (or two or three...) of me! Besties!

So, my plans were working fine. After getting off the train, I was operating under the assumption that the written directions I had downloaded from a pair of blogs would get me to these waterfalls, then take a not-quite-sanctioned shortcut to get to back to the train tracks and Shifen Waterfall. 

The part where I followed the documented trail was amazing! (Uh, oh, foreshadowing -guess you'll have to keep reading to find out what happens along the UNdocumented trail.) First, there was a short walk back along the train tracks, passing a stand selling pretty fancy sounding coffee but looking like a lemonade stand that kids would put up. 

Then, there were the ten stories of stairs. I was expecting that - both the blogs had warned me - so I took my time and read about two different kinds of ferns that they had posted signs about along the trail. Prehistoric plants are pretty cool. 

The first of the handful of people I met on the trail was an old man carrying a giant bundle of bamboo down the mountain. I had read somewhere that this was a path for transportation as well - impressive to say the least. 

It leveled off quickly; essentially, once I reach the right altitude, the stairs just stopped and it was a bit of rolling trail. The most difficult part was dancing around the puddles; other hikers had laid down bamboo over some, which was a balancing act, or steps of stones. I did one slide down a bank while trying to weasel along it to avoid a puddle, but came out mostly clean. Along that stretch at least. 

I had hopped over quite a few puddles when I started to hear the rush of water. And, turning a corner, I could begin to see the first, Hegu Waterfall, from afar. There was a viewing platform, and the trio of hikers I had passed caught up to me while I was catching that one.

Next up, there were two awesome pedestrian rope suspension bridges that had a fun swing to them. A babbling brook that I walked along side. Birds flitting between the trees and boulders. Idyllic. 

It was the second waterfall that I was excited for, since I had heard you could climb up into a cave behind it. Some steps carved into stone led up a little further into the woods (or is it jungle?) and, instead of the distant view of the previous Hegu, this Motain Waterfall started immediately spraying me in the face.

I encountered another couple at the base, setting up a camera on a timer to take a picture. I motioned that I could take it for them; I'm not positive if it got lost in translation, or if they actually wanted a picture with all three of us - but that's what they got! I did eventually take pictures of the two of them, and they returned the favor. 

I let them continue on, and I climbed along the trail until there was a branch that headed back in toward the waterfall. I slid down a big boulder without THAT much mud getting on me, but crouching over and walking along the crevice that ran to the waterfall definitely got my backpack a little dirty, and my hands too as I continued to try to keep my sneakers from getting water- (or mud-) logged. 

Eventually, the water was coming down right in front of me. Giant drips were falling off the edge of the cave - I was not close enough to to actually reach out, though. I was happy hunkered back, watching the water cascade down, then continue on to its wherever.

I danced back out among the puddles, and took a less steep route back to the trail. 

The final fall was a stair climb away! They were metal with a railing, so not hard to scale. 

And when I got to Pipadong Waterfall and the erstwhile end of the trail, a crowd of middle schoolers with a few adults were there.

Not sure if it was that I was the only white person I'd encountered that day, or the fact that I was making a bit of a fool of myself trying to climb on some slightly-too-tall rocks in the pool below the waterfall, but I was getting a lot of stares.

One of the men told me that up a trail by the fall was a better viewpoint. He was right; probably didn't need to climb on those rocks. 

He also didn't let me cross the sign to get closer to the fall. Too dangerous. When I asked him how to get to the train, he said go left. 

Before there were any turning options, I followed the path up a few steep hills. A knotted rope helped me up one rock face, and a pair of rope handles let me scramble up another. A nice dose of adventure with my waterfalls!

Well, I guess the next hour was a good bit of adventure. The blogs had mentioned a "roadway" that they "crisscrossed" then a long flight of slippery steps that went down, then going over a red bridge and turning right. 

Well, I was definitely walking along a roadway. Then I went down some very steep stairs - great! On the right track!

Now, there was a bridge, but it was kinda orangish. The fence close to it was red? And that's kinda when the instructions stopped. "The railroad tracks are just a little farther along."

Yeah... Never saw any railroad tracks. I walked along the road to the right for half a mile before asking an old lady for Shifen. She waved me on and held up one finger.

I spent the next ten minutes of walking trying to decipher that finger. One kilometer? One more road? One minute? 

That more rural, unlined road ran into a more populated one. Such a main road, in fact, that there was a bus stop! And on the sign, just two stops away, was the Shifen Falls! 

Perfect. I didn't really look at the bus schedule, figuring I might be able to wave it down if I was between stops. And I didn't want to deal with how to pay for it. So I started walking. Along the highway. 

I felt very odd, with my backpack and camera, not really hiking anymore, and encountering a car once every few minutes. Maybe a quarter mile down the road, I found the next bus stop. 

I would be at the falls in no time if the next stop came up as quick as that one! Sadly, that was not the case. 

After a week and a half of negotiating with my family about where to go and how to get there, it was refreshing to just decide to walk and face the consequences later. I didn't have to justify my decision to anyone, and I could just go. I had no one to blame if my feet got sore, and no one to help if I got lost.

But, probably a mile or two later, I found the entrance to the park with the falls. I had some streaks of crusted mud on my jeans, but I was victorious. 

These falls were definitely the most impressive. A mini Niagara Falls, someone on  the train had called them. Sure enough, a horseshoe had been carved out by the water falling down a hundred feet or two. 

And there were stalls! With food! I had squid balls, bubble milk tea, and some fried tofu while I observed the waterfall and observed the people. If there is reincarnation, and I have to come back as an animal, it would be pretty posh to be a dog in Taipei. I saw lots of random dog head sticking out of purses, as well as some of the fattest chihuahuas I've ever seen. On the other hand, it might be too cushy of a life. 

After my bubble tea and subsequent bathroom visit (there is a lot of liquid in those!), I walked to the viewing platform directly opposite the falls. 

Would it be too intimate to tell you that I got tears in my eyes walking out from the trees into the full view of the falls? Perhaps it was the uncertainty of the previous hour culminating in success. Perhaps it was the fact that it was Easter, and I'd been feeling God's presence. Or perhaps just a strong wind with a bit of dust. 

On my way back to the suspension bridge at the start of the waterfall park, the hourly train came chugging toward us on the rail bridge. Ah well, guess I'll have to burn a lot of time once I get back to the station, I thought. 

Well, I followed the crowds and walked. And walked. And walked. It was two kilometers back to the station! Good thing I didn't think I'd be able to catch a train that was twenty minutes away. 

Finally, the crowd congealed around a few old streets around the train station. Every ten seconds another paper lantern was rising along the tracks. Once again, the amazing food options called to my pretty satiated stomach. I was able to hold off until - how appropriate, eggs!

Well, pancake eggs filled with custard (the better option) and chocolate. But hey, didn't need the Easter bunny - just an old man at a roadside stall. 

And ahead, finally, was the train station. One ticket to the end of the line, where the trains back into Taipei left from. I picked up a few postcards, including one with a MasterCard symbol, and joined the packed crowd on the platform. 

Everyone wedged in for the forty minute ride to the end of the line. I was hoping to see if my conductor friend was the one driving the train, but I was just lucky enough to partially see out the window, much less make my way up to the lead car. 

So I settled in (as much as possible when standing) and watched the green world fade and buildings start cropping up where the trees used to be. A short stop in Ruifang, and it was another standing ride back to Taipei main station. 

I found the machine that sold ride tokens, and bought the metro ride amount to get back to my hotel. I was expecting a paper card like in DC and ended up with a poker chip. 

I watched the entrance to the MRT station for a minute or two, but the lack of any place to insert the token made me ask a very pleasant, English-speaking info desk attendant who told me that I just needed to tap it, then insert it at the final station. Easy peasy.

Dinner was some microwaved dumplings and a yogurt. Don't worry - I have plenty of food pictures for later this week!

Osaka - March 26, 2016

I had been debating between a ramen museum and a castle in Osaka, with an eye on both, but I'm glad Grandma and Grandpa decided to join and put a critical eye on my aggressive plans. We got in the taxi that Deanne had reserved for us the day day before at 9, and we all waved goodbye to Mom, Dad, and Deanne. Our taxi driver gave us a belated tour, though I did learn that the Kyoto Tower was built in the 60s and its height was based on the population of the city. The city had 9,000 more people now, so he joked that they need to prop it up 9 more meters. 

Saying goodbye to Deanne meant we had to figure out trains and train tickets by ourselves. Wasn't hard, per say - the machines had English buttons, but we weren't practiced. 

The rapid line was coming in 10 minutes, but we decided to sit on a train instead of at a platform and rode the local every stop for 45 minutes between Kyoto and Osaka station. The central station there was bustling, but we found the coin lockers and dropped off our things so we could travel unencumbered to Osaka Castle. 

Except for the train we were on going out of service and hitching the next one, we arrived near the castle at 11. Two moats (one dry, one with water) required us to follow the crowds over bridges to get to the main tower. Unlike the blustery not-quite-spring day we had yesterday, today was sunny and nearly 60! The Japanese were out in force, jogging, biking, picnicking. Street stalls of food called to us. 

But first, we had to get our dose of history. A giant line snaked out from the ticket booth, but only fifteen minutes after we had gotten in it, we were riding the elevator to the top. And, with Grandma favoring her knee and hip slightly, we got a ride alllll the way to the top, not just to the fifth floor where most of the tourists got out. 

We'd walk down the stairs to learn about Totoya Hideyori (completely spelled wrong, but the founder of the castle) and Totoya Hideyoshi (his not-as-successful son) and Ieagushi somebody or another (who took up Hideyori's yoke), but the view of Osaka lay before us. The broadcasting building was the tallest, and a modern work of architecture. Various gardens and gates of the giant park were visible, as was the anthill of people below. 

A few floors of history (a samurai costume, lots of scrolls, some letters by Ieashu-whatever from the 1500s) and our stomachs were as empty as our heads were full. 

I was so excited for the stands full of food. We went broke on pork buns, giant long fries, a mochi paddy with red bean, and ice cream cones. I had already bought the tickets to the airport, so we were good. 

Or so I thought. I had bought the correctly priced tickets (since you just by "X yen" of credit to get you to the station you want to go to), but at the wrong station. Only after we had sent Valerie on her way with the rest of our cash at Osaka Station did we get stopped by the gates as we were trying to go in. 

I both feel sorry for the woman who had to deal with us, but I also feel like the Japanese system is kind of stupid when it comes to tickets. Ours were the right price, but I had bought them at the station by Osaka Castle - and where you buy the ticket is the only place you can enter. She was going to give us a refund, less a ¥220 processing fee, but then we wouldn't have enough to get to the airport. She begrudgingly let us in, but told us that we'd have to talk to the attendants at the airport. 

I'm a pro at confusing the train information booths until they just let me through. Alisa and I did this on the way back to the airport in Tokyo when we were here 16 months ago for a layover. At least this time, Grandma, Grandpa, and I had actually paid - just hadn't bought the right thing. 

With some warning from Deanne, I had tried to make sure we were in the half of the train that ended up at the airport, but until the train actually split up 50 minutes into the trip, I was on edge. There was a beautiful bridge over to the island with Kansai airport (Osaka's airport), and I easily explained our way out of the train station. One more stressor, gone!

Since I'm off to Taipei with Jetstar Airlines, and Grandma and Grandpa are back to the States with United, we hugged and split up. After connecting to the free airport wifi, I leaned that Mom and Dad were the next gate over from the grandparents, so would get to hear the train ticket story from Grandma and Grandpa. 

I, on the other hand, checked in. (They did want to see my flight out of Taiwan with United to make sure I wasn't staying indefinitely.) Wandering close to my gate, I came to a stand selling the some snacks and the green tea ice cream I had skipped in favor of mochi this afternoon. They took credit, and the machi soft serve was mine. Grandma recommended that I sell that in addition to melon pan in my imaginary future food truck. She's a smart lady. 

The flight, the trip to the hotel, all uneventful. Checked in, got up to my room, and saw the biggest bed, the most square footage I've had to myself in two weeks, and a bathroom that I don't have to share. Yes, I'll veg in bed with random 7-11 food from the lobby please. Sayonara, Japan; nǐ hǎo, Taiwan!

Final day in Kyoto - March 25, 2016

With a cold day out, and some impending work deadlines, I figured I'd hole up in the house while the family spent another day out and about. They had aimed to go to the national museum in Kyoto; some private event had it closed, so they saw half a dozen craftsmen in the folk and craft museum instead. 

Valerie had found some exciting market to walk through, so they returned, tired and hungry, with bags from the stalls there. Some we recognized - rice balls, snap peas, giant carrots, a yellow pepper. Some was new but super yummy - a mini octopus with its head stuffed with a hard-boiled quail egg (wonderfully seasoned!), crunchy diced fish cubes with a creamy vinegary sauce, crackers with oatmeal or edamame. And the sweets - donuts and tri-colored mochi for me.

It was a feast. The cleaning person had come in the morning, so I had a shower before hiding back upstairs to finish up my afternoon. The family decided to stay hunkered down until we all were ready to go see the castle in Kyoto's light up. 

With three layers and two pairs of socks on, as well as a hat that I serendipitously bought at Miyajima, I was snuggled up fine as the lights illuminated the couple of trees that had bloomed despite the temperature in the 40s. A barn-type structure housed a concert of traditional Japanese stringed instruments - "a combination between a mandolin and a banjo" according to Dad. The players had metal plucking extensions on their fingers, and would adjust the bridges on their strings between songs. While playing, they would stretch or vibrate a string they were plucking on the side opposite their strum. It sounded very Asian, but yet I was reminded of Christmas music (in the medieval tradition) a few times. 

We had met up with Maria, so made plans to meet her at a rice omelette shop a few stops away. Seven-Elevens are one of the few places American bank cards work, and, since Deanne had no more yen for us, I withdrew enough for us to make it through... Well, dinner apparently, since Deanne hadn't accounted well for that. (There was a second 7-11 for another ATM withdrawal after dinner.)

We found solace from the wind inside a mall by Nijo station. The clean little restaurant had egg cartons decorating its walls - appropriate, since omelettes filled with rice were its specialty. The table had a curry one, a basil-tomato, a bacon-shrimp, a creamy salmon. Valerie and I had bigger plans; the menu also had those giant parfaits Deanne raves about, so we split a "omerice gratin", which was a layer of rice, a layer of egg, the a layer of our topping of choice, eggplant in red sauce. 

I was full after that, and pretty stuffed after our triple decker, banana-topped chocolate parfait came out. It was an easy decision to pack up a few things, then hit the sack. 

Nara - March 24, 2016

We "slept in" and were still all out the door by 9:30 to head to Nara, the old capital of Japan. We are getting to be pros at the bus; the train with its two tickets is a bit trickier and Deanne navigates that for us nicely.

First, we hopped off the train and were blown to Heijōkyū Palace Site. The biting wind made the mid-50s day cold, even with the sun in and out.

The grounds had more buildings on them than I thought they would, which was a welcome reprieve from the weather. The first was a museum explaining the site - the emperor lived here for about 75 years around 700AD before it was "packed up" (roof tiles, timbers, iron, all repurposed) and moved elsewhere. So, as Dad synthesized, everything that was left here was broken. It was the center of bureaucracy, and around 2000 people worked at essentially office jobs, so there was half a desk here and some discarded tablets there. I learned a new word - "dendrochronology" - using the fact that trees develop rings at roughly the same width to age things made of wood. 

Next along the giant park was the rebuilt Imperial Hall. They did a beautiful job of "reconstructing" it. (No plans or descriptions of the building remains, so they based it off other contemporary buildings and the footprint of columns they found.) Because the excavations were twenty feet underground, the archaeologists would dig them up to study the artifacts, then rebury them and make the reconstructions on top. 

Valerie and I took a brisk walk down to the East Garden. It was a smaller walled garden with a pond and a structure built over it. The construction workers really added to the beauty of the single cherry tree that was blooming. Otherwise, it was kinda just gray and gravelly. 

We met back up with the rest of the family in the archaeology center, where they had dug those twenty feet down to show gutters and columns that were from 1300 years ago. 

We had had Deanne inquire about a bus to Nara Park, so found the stop (a nice bus shelter that allowed the sun in and the wind out) and waited. 

It was the oldest bus we've been on - both in population and in upkeep. I ended up sandwiched between two Japanese seniors in the back, but the heat off the engine was making me dizzy, so I stood up front for the final ten minutes.

After how empty and barren the first park had been, Nara Park was full of tourists. We stopped at a subpar restaurant for random pilaf, spaghetti, and red bean pancakes before braving the breeze to go find us some deer. 

We didn't have to wait long. Just up the block from the Kintetsu train station was the a herd of deer, with a baby inside what was clearly meant to be a fence to keep them out. They were conveniently right by the first peddler with deer crackers to feed them. 

We swung by the five-story pagoda, then walked downhill to a pond with a pavilion. We spent more time watching the construction crew there moving around dirt in the lowered pond than we did admiring the trees. Granted, we are still a few days away from peak bloom here (though it is definitely going on in DC), so the bare trees are less exciting. 

Crossing the road, we turned to find a commotion of deer galloping towards us. What we thought was a herder - who actually turned out to be a deer cracker seller - ushered them across the road. Makes sense; if you're living relies on there being lots of hungry deer around, you are going to make sure they get across the road ok. As sacred as they are, I'm sure there have still been some accidents. 

We began our march up to the Kasuga Taisha temple. The tree- and lantern-lined roads made it more fun to spot the deer that were every few feet. Valerie splurged on the ¥150 ($1.40) deer crackers, and I tested out the tip that I had read. Yes, the deer really will bow for their crackers!

Once Mom realized that it was a training tool, she was much more excited about feeding them. Valerie's coat was getting nibbled, so she was trying to get them to bow, but really just getting gummed in the process. The bigger guy I was feeding did a great job of being polite; his antlers, like more of theirs, were either shaved down or hadn't grown back for the season. 

We made it to the shrine, with its tori gate and "vermillion" (orange) structures rising out of the lantern and tree forest, and sat on the steps to watch the world go by. The attendants were wearing traditional garb, which included these beaded bangs. Dad commented with sparkles like that in front of your face, you'll always be smiling for your customers. 

We had found a bus that was down that hill that would take us back to the train station. Valerie had sniffed out the sweet potato vendor; the deer then sniffed out her sweet potato. The deer were smart enough to cross the road all together, but this impatient buck finally left us alone when the bus barreled toward it. 

The bus-train combo was easy, and it was the night for shabu-shabu, a fondue-like eating style we hadn't tried yet. It was yet another "pay $30 and eat all you want", but the buffet had all the vegetarian trimmings for our boiling broth, so it felt much less rushed than when we had done the grill for Deanne's graduation dinner. Leeks, mushrooms, onions, green onions, some garlic and a purple sweet salt flavored the broth - which, I was surprised to hear from Deanne, you don't drink. When my coworkers and I had gone out for soba, they had given us the water the noodles were boiled in to dilute the sauces after we were done so they could get sipped up. With that sort of "no waste" mentality, just leaving the broth felt odd. 

We had pretty much boiled it down to nothing by the time we had "swish-swished" our beef and pork in it. The meat was sliced so thinly, and the broth so hot, that it really didn't take much for raw meat to turn tender and then, if you didn't remove it, chewy. 

I was also excited because, in addition to all the vegetables, there was an ice cream case. All you care to eat dessert too! I tried a few flavors, definitely the machi and red bean ones. Valerie was happy with the fries that were a part of the buffet as well. 

Once again sated, we took a cab home, but not before visiting the grocery in the basement of the multi-floor mall. I checked out the price of Japanese rice, but figured I'd be fine with the quality and convenience I could find on Amazon. Back at the ryokan, Valerie, Dad, Mom, and Deanne managed to get a game of Carcassonne in before the food coma hit. 

Miyajima - March 22, 2016

The entire family bused to the train station together, then divvied up - Grandma, Grandpa, Valerie and I taking a train and then ferry to Miyajima; Mom, Dad, and Deanne to another day trip out from Kyoto. They'll have a nice, quiet, empty house tonight. 

I looked up our destination on the way to Miyajima, and formed a plan that was well executed - first, drop our bags, have lunch, then check out the tori gate for the main shrine at low tide. Then, walk up to the "ropeway" (gondolas) and ride to an observatory on Mount Misen. 

It went remarkably well! We stopped at the first restaurant we saw with tables, and all sat facing the cooks as they made "okinomiyaki" - soba noodles, thinly sliced meat, sprouts, and either squid and shrimp or oyster with a thin pancake on one side and an egg later on the other. We beat the rush; all the seats were taken when we left, and three cooks were on the assembly line. This Hiroshima speciality filled us up we were on to the next task - touching the tori gate. 

It wasn't quite low tide yet, so we strolled through the Itsukushima Shrine. (Looking again at my ticket, this thing is old - first built in 593 then rebuilt in 1168.) A wedding party was dazzling (and not just because of the bright sun reflecting off her white kimono). We walked along the boardwalks connecting the couple closed off rooms, then headed toward the beach. 

The shrine is at the midpoint of a horseshoe beach, with the tori gate between the two tips. Valerie and I danced along the muddy sand to get up close to the roughly 16 meter tall gate. 

I was probably more proud of getting there without getting my feet wet than I was excited about touching it. On the gates, mollusks had coated what normally lay below water. In the sand, tiny creatures inched their conical shells along the gritty ground. 

We leaped over the few trickles to get back to Grandma and Grandpa. It wasn't until ten minutes into our uphill hike that I remembered reading about a shuttle that would have dropped us off at the bottom of the ropeway; instead, we earned our supper on that slope. 

The ticket station had steps up to the entry to the first of the two ropeways. This one dangled cars which could hold up to six people; in the second one, about twenty people could fit into the hovering room. 

A small exhibit with benches is where we agreed to meet Grandma; she was almost done with her "quota of stairs" for the day, and the closest shrine was a twenty minute walk. Grandma accompanied us, though we pulled ahead when he stopped for some pictures and a breather. 

The temple holding the eternal flame was much different than I had pictured. A sleek modern building was on a lot of the posters - turns out, that was actually the observatory that was at the peak. The eternal flame shrine was a single wooden room with a bunch of candles and incense - it was actually overwhelmingly smoky!

Val and I said hi to Grandpa as he panted up, then continued the final ten minutes, through the "duck-under rock" (duck the verb, not the noun) to the observatory. 

There was a wonderful 360 degree view of the mountain range to the west, Hiroshima to the north, and the inland sea spotted with tree-topped rock islands to the east. It was staggering, and also a bit breezy - there was a chill up my sweaty spine for both those reasons. 

Val and I trotted down the mountain talking about boys and were quickly back to the meeting place with Grandma and Grandpa. The loudspeaker had been going once every 15 minutes alerting us of the next ropeway departure, and reminding us that the final departure was at 5:30. 

We took something like the 4:30 car down the mountain, and we managed to find the shuttle bus and squeeze on for a switched-back ride to the city center. 

Right on the corner as we were dropped off, a shop was selling "melon pan." I read the sign aloud: "what is melon pan?" The Swiss lady that Grandpa had befriended answered by telling us it was a sweet bun, and to eat it quickly if you add ice cream - it melts fast. She also said it was a disappointment if you spent half an hour walked to find it in Kyoto and expecting something melon-flavored. 

Well, since I didn't expect or want anything melon-flavored and since I hadn't spent thirty minutes walking to find it, I was over-joyed with the sweet crisp of a bun with a hatched top and yummy warm center that was bready and soaking up the dripping ice cream that had been sliced into the middle. 

Mine was done in like three bites, so I had to take a picture of Valerie's to document. The sign was also hilarious - "Even world #1 ice cream eaters, the Americans, don't know about this fantastic ice cream only offered in JAPAN!"

 

I think I've found my calling - bringing freshly baked melon pan to America. Don't worry, #1 ice cream eaters! I got you. 

The "deer beer" happy hour spot was closed, so we wandered along the water until we found a hotel bar that looked out at the sunset. Val had a Premium draft beer, and Grandma and Grandpa had the local Miyajima beer, and I had a very lemon-y lemon sake. The sunset while we chatted and plotted the next day's plans. 

We were sipping and savoring so much that the island was dark and boarded up when we emerged from the hotel. First, we captured the tori gate alit from shore, its fiery red reflected in the high tide. The deer were mostly curled up in the tree beds by the sidewalk, also waiting for the next bout of tourists in the morning. It was holy - like you'd expect an island full of shrines to be. 

Which is all well and good until you need supper before bed. A single pub with a huge waiting list was open, so Valerie and I investigated and found a nice looking and oddly empty restaurant a block down the deserted main street. Maybe it was because everything on the menu was eel?

Well, not everything, since we got oyster fried rice and fried oysters as well as the tempura eel and vegetable dish. Each of the three platters came with clam miso soup, a tiny trio of pickled vegetables tied together with seaweed, and some other side. Whatever came with the tempura eel was cold and squishy and not good; otherwise, the meal wasn't what we were expecting but was at a real table and filled us up. Given the look of the place, I wasn't surprised at the quality, but instead just happy about it. 

We walked the two blocks back to our ryokan (Japanese guesthouse), passing the world's largest rice paddle (or close to - fifteen feet and made from wood, it had to be good for something, right?) We all slept in twin beds all in the same room, and the lights were out by ten. The sleepy island was wearing off on us.