There are parks in cities around Morocco where men gather each day, scattering themselves around a park in the center of town. In front of them they place their tools of the trade. A painter: a bucket filled with rollers and brushes. A home repair guy: a ladder (the fold-up kind) and other various tools. An electrician: wires and whatnot. A plumber: well, you get the picture.

There they sit. Waiting. So if I needed someone to do something for me, I’d go there in the morning, negotiate the price, and he’d come and do the work for me. Voilla! Cool concept.

The music in a particular Berber village we visited was phenomenal. One of the guys who entertained us one evening at the auberge we stayed at (where the guy from the UK ended up dying…) plays the lotar. He is a silversmith by day and a lotar player by night! A lotar, is a Moroccan guitar, made of a “leg of a bed” or any turned wood, a bowl covered with henna-painted goat skin for the body and 4-6 strings; it is approximately 36″x 10.5″x 8″ and there are generally colorful paintings all over it. And it sounds so great in the right hands.

On Monday it was overcast and thick.  It never really rained but did want to, it seemed.  Susan left me a note in the morning saying she was keen to rest in the morning rather than scurry off and do things.  Happy about that myself, I went downstairs to blog and catch up on computer-ing.  After lollygagging in the room a bit and making a game plan together we headed off to grab a bite next door.  The most delicious restaurant with an outstanding atmosphere is literally right next door so we enjoyed a great meal of steamed dumplings, fried dumplings, greens w garlic (yum!), and a spicy fried rice w fish.  I have photos of all the food and plan to load them when I am able to use my own computer. 

Next on the list: to the mall (I say it like there’s only one; there are many).  We went to a mall that had at least 5 stories and sold everything under the sun.  Shopping, marketing, and status would appear to be the words of the day for Japan.  And the stores are packed full of everything under the sun in dense numbers.  Boots line the aisles one after the other.  Backpacks pack the shelves.  Furry purses and gorgeous things drew us in.  But here I am with an already-too-packed backpack so there is no way I can make a purchase if if Iwanted to.  It will be necessary to visit a post office in Kyoto in order to relieve myself of some things by sending them home – – including the computer bag  I will no longer need now that I bought a proper backpack to carry my stuff around in. 

During our shopping adventure Amy and Colin rang and asked us to meet them for a beer and a round of bowling (is it called a round? Or what?).  We met them at the train station and found the bowling place.  It’s on the 7th floor of a gaming building called Big Box.  The place is filled with stuff like video games, those dancing things with lights that you have to coordinate your feet on (Colin does an excellent impersonation of these dancing machines!), indoor golf with a golf school and the like.  The place was filled with teenagers and the fact that there was no beer served at the bowling lanes drove home the fact that this place was for kids.  Deciding that we wanted to go get beer first, we told the girl behind the desk what our plan was.  We could tell by her expression that she thought we meant we were going to go get beer and bring it back to the place.  This was confirmed when she sent an English-speaking guy to tell us alcohol was prohibited.

All we wanted was to go somewhere for a beer and a rest first, then we’d come back to bowl.   Recalling that there had been a guy in a sandwich board out front handing out advertisements for a certain place with cheap beer, we went out of Big Box to find him and figure out where to go.  Not understanding his directions, he helped us understand that he would take us there.  We followed him up to the place and were sat in a booth where we promptly ordered appetizers and beer.  Turns out it’s one of these club card places, like Granite City or the like.  We paid for a club card, then got the low-price beers, still a good deal.  And the food was delicious.  Skip the bowling!  We were happy to drink beer, eat, and talk about various things including Japanese culture from Amy’s perspective whilst living here and teaching English.  She has a lot of interesting observations about the culture here from her conversations with her students.  It was interesting. 

We made a plan to go to the fish market on Tuesday, set a time of 6:45 a.m. and a meeting place, then separated for the evening.  Susan and I headed back to the hotel to organize my backpack and to pack up to be ready to depart for Kyoto tomorrow.  Then headed over to our favorite restaurant where we enjoyed more dumplings, more greens, and a delicious pork dish than had us moaning in pleasure with every single bite.  And I am not kidding.  It was heavenly!!

A low-key but delightful day!

On Sunday morning, my first morn in Japan, I meandered downstairs to breakfast of bread and jam and for a few minutes of internetting.  We then made our way to the Uyeno station where we met up with Susan’s friend Colin and his girlfriend Amy.  Colin is traveling in Asia on business and was able to meet up with Susan a week or so ago in Beijing.  It was then that they realized we would all be in Tokyo at the same time.  After a short cell phone call to pinpoint our locale at the train station we were able to meet up quickly.  It helps that there are very few Westerners around so we rather stick out, but it is in general very easy to get around in this place.  So far everything is well-laid out and understandable if you take the time to read the signs.  We decided to take the slow train to Nikko partly for money’s sake.  Susan and I already have unlimited rail passes through the whole of Japan so it didn’t matter at all to us  but Colin and Amy had not purchased ahead.  And since one cannot purchase a tourist pass in this country, they were relegated to purchasing as they go.  The shinkansen (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shinkansen) is the fast train, the bullet train.  The mack daddy of trains.  So although that train is already a part of our unlimited JR rail package, it was considered too expensive for Colin and Amy, thus our decision to take the slow train.

The trip to Nikko is about 3 hours by slow train.  And it’s not the worst thing to do when you’re wanting time with friends and want to see the scenery of the beautiful autumn leaves along the way!  And such beauty!  Reds and oranges of the most deep and brilliant color amongst the green of the conifers.  It rivals anything I’ve seen in the states, including out East.  The train ride was most excellent as we had time to laugh, talk, and get to know one another.  And it was great people-watching as well.  Best of all, we are the only tourist-y types I have seen that are non-Japanese.  One gets the feeling so far that we are experiencing real life, not a life set up for the sake of tourism.

As it became more mountainous my ongoing comment/question was: is that Mt. Fuji?  It has become a sort of trademark for me to ask ridiculous questions and make crazy comments during my relationship w Susan, starting on our Antarctic voyage last year.  So I am carrying on the tradition.  “Unless there is a sign telling me this isn’t Mt. Fuji, I’m assuming it is,” I say!  Now if we don’t make it to the actual mountain, I’ll be fine because of the many Mt. Fujis I saw on the way to Nikko. (Not to mention on the flight in when I saw the sun set right beside the mount!  Spectacular to see the volcanic mountain looming above the clouds!)

Nikko is a small town known for its beautiful forest, World Heritage UNESCO sites, and ansen or hot springs, among other things.  It reminds me of Ushuaia, Argentina, the jumping-off point for Antarctica.  It also reminds me of a Swiss mountain town or Liechtenstein.  It is quaint and adorable.  Since it took us so long to arrive, we didn’t have much time as it was and unfortunately we were hungry so stopped at a great spot for noodles.  “One hour is pl-en-ty to visit, Nikko!” Colin joked).  As good as those noodles were, lunch slowed us up a bit for the rest of our time making it impossible to truly discover the shrines and sites.  But it was still beautiful and a great getaway spot for our first 24 hours in Japan.  We missed the hot springs, unfortunately, but hopefully will get the chance to visit some as unique as the ones in Nikko along the rest of our trip. 

Since everything closed at 5 and it begins getting dark at 4:30, we made our way down through the town to find ourselves a pub so we could grab some beers before the journey home.  We found a great spot (pictures to follow) and enjoyed our own company and beer (and stale nuts and some strange appetizers involving crunchiness wrapped around some kind of a bean curd) there for a few hours before heading down to the train station for Colin/Amy to buy tickets home.  Much to Colin’s delight, the pair of them decided to splurge on tickets for the shinkansen on the way home.  Whilst waiting in the train station for our own train, one of the other shinkansen barrelled by like a bullet and we were left in its wind wake shaking in our boots and squealing with excitement!  What a rush!  I can’t wait to get video of it next time and I can’t hardly stop thinking about it!  Riding the thing you have no idea you’re going at the speed of light (really only about 200 mph), especially at night.  Our train was nearly full with a seating arrangement and look of a jet airliner inside.  I am excited to experience it in daylight and to see the scenery whir past!

There are signs all over the train ‘Nikko is Nippon’, meaning Nikko is old-Japan, I think, since Nippon is the term (generally an older term) meaning Japan.  We had fun repeating this phrase over and over…  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japan

I rode flight 619 to Tokyo as a sardine.  The sardine on the bottom of the can.  The one squished between the bottom of the can and the next sardine.  And it seemed the whole plane did not sleep, unlike the usual trans-Pacific flights I have been on.  And I don’t think it was because of the many children under 5 on board.  But I don’t know what it was.  Thankfully, I managed to catch a few minutes’ sleep but nothing like I am used to getting on a plane.  And nothing like I would have gotten had I been in first class…  It was a huge understatement when I announced to Susan, my travel mate, then that “I prefer to fly first class.”  No duh.  Who doesn’t?  It was a funny pronouncement but what I meant to say is: I am going to try to fly first class home because I cannot endure another flight like that.  It didn’t help that I was on the cusp of first class – – they were right in front of me lying prostrate in their little recliners with their down duvets and pillows.  That will be me on the way home, I vowed.

Upon arrival to Narita I realized I had to jump-to and get my wits about me to figure out what’s next.  After making it through the requisite check stops, having a left/right index finger print taken (I could not get it on the first try and had to try again; I didn’t know you had to push down once your fingers were in place), having my photo taken (worse than a drivers license pic and like there, no do-over even though I scrunched up my nose at the guy for the international non-verbal meaning, “Yuck!”) and getting my bag (the too-huge backpack I’ve committed to lugging around), I was ready to figure out the next step: getting to the Sutton Place Hotel in Ueno, Tokio.  (I’m already picking up the correct spellings). 

I followed the well-marked path to the Japan Rail (JR) station where I was to turn in my voucher for an unlimited 14-day rail pass.  You cannot purchase these rail passes in Japan; it must be done prior to arrival.   I was told the process and procedures, given a ticket with the verbal instruction, “3 minute that way!”  Off I went.  And happily, I made it!  With plenty o’ time to spare.  In Tokyo I did as I was told and switched to the green line, the Yamanonte line, and proceeded to ride it 4 stops to Ueno.  I promptly found the Iriya exit and endeavored to find the hotel.  My insticnts are most usually correct and I headed not-to-far out of the way and found my way correctly by asking a policeman who non-verbally explained how to go.  The hotel is literally 30 seconds from the door of the train station!  How perfect.

I arrived in the super-small room (about 100 square feet) and took photos of the thing but had no room to get a good shot so stood in the hallway and looked in.  It is small – – and there are two of us!  No matter, though, because we won’t be in this room much.  I organized my bags, showered, and took a short nap before Susan began texting with her ETA.  After having a taxi that broke down and having to change mid-stream, she arrived in one piece and we stayed up until 2 a.m. talking about everything under the sun as though not a minute had passed since our time together one year ago! 

After a good nights’ sleep I am in the hotel lobby having bread/jam and coffee and writing this blog.  There is no WiFi in this hotel so I am using the computer provided by the hotel – – the one with all of the Japanese characters. 　租意日d用アド案dウィll他lkと用ァ手r。(So for now, I bid you ado and will plan to write more later).

We are off to Nikko for the day with Colin Hickey and his girlfriend (friends of Susan’s from the mother country) where we plan to lounge in the natural hot springs and drink some wine.