Glorious Kyoto

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Yesterday (Sunday, April 8) was spent at Himeji Castle. Woo!

On our way to this UNESCO World Heritage site, we stop at a food fair of sorts. Ian finds a huge squid on a stick. We are talking the whole squid. It's as big as Ian's head. Mother and Troy have a bite but Ian otherwise finishes the whole thing. Enough about that. For my part, I find cream puffs. Gary finds fried chicken (yakitori, almost). Mother buys these crepe things loaded with cabbage, something that looks like it might be wheat, fish shavings... so far, so good.... then folded around a pair of chopsticks and coated with mayonnaise and ketchup. Ack. Sorry to those of you who might read this during a meal.

Even before reaching the castle, we find crowds upon crowds. And even inside its walls, there are little dogs everywhere - daschunds, chihuahuas, corgis, the odd beagle. Picnickers stake out space in the expansive public areas. People of questionable talent yowl through karaoke machines.

Himeji is by all accounts a magnificent large castle, impressive with outer AND inner moats, scores of matchlock rifles lining the walls. Lots of steep steps and neat holes for throwing stones at enemies. No romance here.

[No, this is not the Ikeda clan from which I spring. The Ikeda side of my family has no crest. Rats. The Katsuragis, however, have quite a fine one, albeit not appearing here either.]


Upon entering the castle proper, we gamely remove our shoes, which we carry with us in plastic bags. The broad plank floors shine with the high polish of millions of ... well, presumably socks. Enough said.

Ceilings and walls with dark heavy beams, impressive in size and age. Stairs are narrow and quite steep, so much so that you risk barking your shins against the next step at each move. Despite all the walking and climbing we're doing, Mother and Father never complain. I think the sights and sites are giving them extra energy. This place certainly gives off its own distinct vibe.

Photo: Kilt guy, by Ian Smith

Ian and the kilt guy (Ian: "He has a name, you know." Me: "Okay, what is it?" Ian: "I don't know.") sweep ahead of us and through the masses of people. We don't see them again for two hours. Troy eventually goes to flush them out of the rafters. Mother and Father and I give up and head downstairs, as does Gary, who also sweeps ahead. We don't see him for an hour.

We dash back to the inn, late for our dinner, which is far too big and which none of us manages to finish. Okay, except Ian. Dinner is accompanied by tiny cups of iced plum wine, sweet and delicious. (This photo shows only half of dinner. There was also tempura, soup, sushi, sweet bean and mochi.)

For her part, Mother has brought a bottle of some sort of rice concoction. She says it is wine for children (something to do with a festival), but we think it is water full of rice and sugar. Actually, she says it will "turn into wine." Hmm. Magic. We watch and wait. Nothing happens. We sip .. really sort of chew... and wait. We toast Buddha's birthday. When put to the vote, it's still 5-1, rice and sugar water.

It's Monday morning now, partly sunny. 65 degrees, we hope. Good day to all.