Japan--by foot, train, bus, and cable car.

October 2009

This trip was arranged with the excellent help of Inside Japan, an England-based company that deals with only Japan. Together we came up with an itinerary; then they made all the reservations for accommodations and transportation.

It was strange leaving on a trip so late in the day. We stopped on the way to eat dinner at Sweet Tomatoes, then dropped off our car. The shuttle driver told us something we hadn’t known; the parking lot we used was now all covered, and they had raised the rates. The only way to get a lower rate was to show our AAA card when we checked out.
After dropping off our bags we went through security. Six o’clock at night is the best time to travel. The lines were very short, and the security people were in a good mood--even after I forgot to take my computer out of my back pack. The guy standing at the metal detector did pat me down, but I think he was just being friendly.
The plane took off in the dark, passing over the lights of the city. It was an economy trip, but it wasn’t bad since it was just a two-hour flight. United served us soft drinks but no peanuts.
Our bags arrived with us in San Francisco and Sue got us to the right bus stop and on the right shuttle. At the hotel we read briefly and hit the sack.
After breakfast, we took the shuttle back to the airport where we learned the flight had been delayed two hours because of a typhoon in Japan. Fortunately we were in the business-class lounge. Those lounges in the US are no match for the business lounges overseas. Alcohol costs money, and the food is very sparse. I had a yogurt.
I bought a new paperback. The publishers had lengthened the height of the book and increased the space between the lines and, of course, had increased the cost to $10. I remember when paperbacks were 25¢!
Our plane was a 747-400, which was quite nice. The seats extended to be completely flat. After we were airborne, we got the traditional hot mixed nuts and wine. Both wines were a tad sharp, which I figured meant they were still young. I ordered the Japanese dinner and enjoyed it well enough. The Kikkoman sauce came in a very small plastic bottle with a screw top. The noodles came with a warm sauce, and I slurped them appreciatively. Several of the pieces were complete mysteries to me, but I ate them anyway. A warm dish followed with extremely soft salmon and a couple of other items. When the dessert tray came around we asked for the cheese with extra crackers, since they usually just give two. They were short on crackers! So Sue and I had to share the one extra packet we got. I tried to watch a movie, but it was grainy and the sound was very bad, so I gave it up.
An hour before touching down in Narita, we were served a “hot” pastrami sandwich. Parts of the sandwich were warm, but half of the bottom was soggy. What we have to put up with in business class. The flight took ten hours, and we had to circle once before landing at 4 PM.
Getting through passport control was easy, and our bags were ready when we got to the baggage carousel. Outside, our greeter from Inside Japan, the company that helped us plan the trip, had our name on a piece of cardboard. He shook hands with us and we chatted briefly. I bought some yen, and he explained there was some problem with the train to Tokyo, 60 miles away. He took us to the train station; the board said there was only one train to our stop, and it would not leave for another hour and a half. The clerk told our guide that the train might not leave at all since the typhoon had disrupted travel in the area.
He got on his cell phone. While I was filling out the forms to activate our rail passes, he disappeared. When I was finished, he came back and said we would have to take the limousine bus, which turned out to be just a bus. He bought our tickets and took us to the bus stop. He was extremely helpful. If he hadn’t been there, we would probably still be wandering around the airport wondering what to do. The bus came in five minutes, a little after 5 PM, and the drive into Tokyo took a little over an hour. I could see Fujisan silhouetted against the almost dark sky. The drive was on an expressway all the way to our stop. After we got our bags, we pondered over where we were exactly and where we wanted to go. Sue showed our map to one of the baggage handlers, and he was able to point us in the right direction. It was a three-block walk down a heavily neoned street, and then across another street.
The two men at the counter took our voucher and gave us our key, metal with a metal tag. In room 505 we got ready for bed and the phone rang. The man at the desk said we had a phone call, and it was Rumi Kaneko, our guide for the next day. She wanted some idea of what we wanted to do. I said we liked nature and art but no museums. She then named a couple of museums, and I said we wanted to see no museums. She then named another museum we might like. I said again that we did not want to see museums. She said, “Do you spell noh N O H?” I said we spelled it N O. Noh, of course, is a form of Japanese theater! We finally got things straightened out.
We read for a few minutes and then took a sleeping pill and went to sleep at 8 PM. I woke up at 5 and got up at 6 and showered. Breakfast was at 7, and we had four choices. Sue had French toast and cafe au lait; I had a small salmon piece and rice soup with a cup of coffee. The coffee and salmon were good and the rice soup was hot. The breakfasts were small even for us.
When we came down to the lobby (four chairs around a small table), Rumi was already there. She was almost as tall as Sue, in her early 30s, well rounded but not fat. Her English, which was quite good, was learned in Japanese schools, although she had been to Seattle twice. Rumi, pleasant looking, with a roundish face, wore snug pants and a striped shirt. We talked over what we wanted to do. Sue asked about visiting an Asahi brewery that she had seen on a map. Rumi didn’t know what we were talking about, and had never heard of an Asahi beer. That was surprising to us, since I had drunk that beer 55 years ago, and it was exported to the US. I spelled it for her, incorrectly, and we talked another minute or so when she finally realized that we were talking about A-sigh-he beer, when I was saying A-sigh. (There were several other times during the day when she did not understand my question. She didn’t seem to have much latitude in listening to English.) With the brewery question understood, we found that they did not give tours without some advance notification.
We eventually picked several places to visit, and started out. First I needed to change more money, which we did at the post office just across the street. As we went in, there was a vending machine that dispensed cold drinks. Vending machines are very popular in Japan. Upstairs, I filled out a form and gave it to a clerk along with my dollars. She took the money and asked us to sit down. The exchange rate was the same as at the airport, so waiting to get to the city did not help us at all. A few minutes later I was called back and handed my yen.
Rumi took us down into the subway system. After the second turn I was completely lost and just followed her. That was a large station. Down stairs around corners, all past shops and with lots of people coming and going. Harajuku was our first stop, and we walked along the very wide gravel path past and under many tall trees. The trees had been replanted after the war over 50 years ago.
One spot on the path had a set of paper lanterns on one side in three rows; the names of sake-maker donors were printed on them, in Japanese, of course. On the other side of the path was another set of wooden casks in three rows with the names of the donors written on them. These were wine merchants.
We passed under a second huge torii and approached the temple with its adjacent buildings. Japanese religious sites are normally just unpainted wood. A fair number of people were around, including several school groups; some were in groups having their pictures taken. They were anything but solemn; they were smiling, laughing, twisting their bodies, and most were holding one or both arms out with the fingers in a V. We saw several groups having their pictures taken during the day, and those being photographed all acted the same. The V with the fingers must mean something in Japan. During WWII Winston Churchill used the symbol with the fingers, which I understand to mean a gesture English archers used in the days of the long-bowmen: We won; we still have our fingers. The French on capturing English archers would cut off those fingers so they could never shoot an arrow again. The French really hated English archers.
There wasn’t much to see in the temple. A huge drum on wheels was at one side. A wooden picket fence divided the visitor from the interior. There were no sides to the large building. Outside was a covered area where the visitor could buy a pentangular piece of wood, write on it, and hang it on the wall; they were about five deep on each peg.
On the way out, our stop at the souvenir shop got us a deck of cards with 54 different Japanese pictures and some badly needed drink coasters. It was incredibly humid in the shop, and Sue and I came out bathed in sweat. Rumi thought it was rather pleasant. These people who live in humid places!
Back on the subway line we got to the Imperial Palace grounds. We got nowhere near the Palace itself, but we took photos over the water of a white building we were told was the part of the Palace. Other people were taking the same photo and taking some with their group smiling in front of the Palace.
Next the subway took us to the Tsukiji fish market, which was a bunch of stores, most of them selling fish. Flies were a rarity. We broke up our walk through the market to have lunch. After waiting in the street for 15 minutes or so, we were allowed in. The restaurant was minute; there were four small two-people tables and a bar with four or five stools. The staff consisted of one waitress and three or four cooks. The waitress had taken our order before we got into the restaurant, so we did not wait long for our food. I had ordered chicken (the house specialty) with noodles and a curry. The curry was good, but the chicken wasn’t cooked enough for my taste; it wasn’t undercooked, but it could have been cooked longer. The chicken had been chopped up with all the little bits still lying between the pieces of meat. Because of the curry, I was given a spoon. My dining companions ate with chop sticks. The beverage was water. I paid for the three of us, and when we left there was still a small line outside the wee restaurant.
Some of the shops had people outside extolling the virtues of their wares. The women used extra high-pitched voices, which bordered on the annoying. The shops were small, most were about ten feet wide, and they had most of their things for sale outside. On one street I stopped to take a picture and someone knocked into me. I stepped to what I thought was an out-of-the-way spot, and he hit me again rather hard, too hard to be accidental. It irritated me; some local had it in for 70 year old Americans.
Leaving the fish market area, we walked up to the Ginza, passing the Kabuki-za Theatre, which will be torn down next summer. The subway took us this time to Asakusa to visit the Asakusa Kannen Temple. We paid for our trips with our Pasmo cards. When we went into the station, we passed our cards over the sensor. When we left at our destination, we passed the card again over the sensor, and the machine subtracted the fee from the card. Much easier than using tokens. Our cards were worth ¥3,000 when we got them, about $32, and were worth about ¥1,800 at the end of day.
From the main street the approach to the temple was about three blocks long. Three blocks with shops side by side on both sides of the street. They were selling everything from wood-block prints to ice cream. LOTS of people. The temple was being refurbished and there was a huge canvas cover over the roof. A five-storied pagoda was nearby. Inside, a few people were doing religious doings, but most of them were at the shops on the way up.
Sue and I were getting rather tired, being still in jet lag. It was 3 o’clock, so we told Rumi to take us back to the hotel, which she did. After she left us, we went into the restaurant and had a very pleasant beer.
Around six o’clock we went out for dinner. A restaurant on the corner across from the hotel looked good, but we decided to look around the neighborhood. We had our cameras and took several photos of the ubiquitous neon signs. There were quite a few restaurants in the area and many other stores selling all sorts of things. We passed one store where a young woman with a very high voice was talking on an amplifier while wearing a uniform of the store. MANY people were out buying and walking to the train station. Business men all wear dark suits with dark ties. They all carry attaché cases. They all walk very fast. After circling the area and checking out the restaurants, we decided to eat at the first.
There was nothing in English on the outside, except for a sign reading that they had English menus. The restaurant had more than four tables, but it was still small. There was an upstairs portion which we did not see. The waitress gave us a table next to three locals, who were eating, drinking, and laughing quite loudly. They were still there when we left. After giving the menus a good looking over, we had to wait a fair amount of time before the waitress came over to take our order. The happy three helped out, calling her over. Both of us ordered beer, and I ordered a chicken/prawn noodle dish. Sue also ordered a noodle dish. The noodles, udon, were quite thick and in a very hot (temperature) sauce. I had a lot of difficulty trying to transfer these long, thick noodles to a smaller bowl for eating, using chop sticks. I’d get part of the noodle into the dish, let go, and watch it disappear into the main dish. After a while the waitress came by and asked if I wanted a fork. How embarrassing. I said no. Eventually I got a few noodles in the smaller dish, but I ate most of them from the main pot. I could get part of the noodle into my mouth and slurp in the rest, with the final end of the noodle whipping around spraying sauce. The thick noodles were chewy and good. The prawn, covered in a golden crust, was large and good. The chicken was pretty much the same as the lunch chicken, and I decided not to order chicken any more. The Japanese couple that had been at the table to my right had finished and left, to be replaced by two Americans. The woman was much overweight, and the man was fairly large, too. A few Japanese are overweight, but no where as many or as much as Americans. The restaurant accepted credit cards, so I charged the meal.
After we left the restaurant, we walked around the neighborhood. We were passing a pachinko parlor when we decided to go in. The noise really hit us, a low rolling noise from the hundreds of machines, most of which were busy. The staff was running around with baskets of balls. One of the staff pointed at the camera I was carrying and indicated, with fingers in an “X”, No Pictures. Cigarette smoke was in the air, along with some music, which could be heard in the distance. We walked through the main room, and along the short hall to another room and then retraced our footsteps. Outside, we said “Wow, what a noisy place.” Pachinko had changed from the last time I had observed it. Before, one just put his metal balls into the machine and watched to see if they would go in the right holes. The current games had digital animation in the background, and the machines looked quite different. I did not really check them out. Too noisy. The next day we passed another parlor when the front door opened. NOISE came out.
For breakfast on the next day, I chose Set D, which was French toast, a large bowl of coffee and milk, yogurt, and a raisin roll. It was quite good. The day looked promising, and we decided to visit the nearby Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden. Following the map, we crossed the rail lines and went down the road until we came to the Garden. It cost 200 yen each to buy a ticket from the machine and get in. This was not what I thought of as a Japanese garden, although part of it was in a Japanese flavor. The path to the right was street wide with a gravel surface; tall bald cypress trees bordered and grew over the path. Birds were plentiful, and a Japanese man with a telephoto lens was shooting them. He showed us one picture, a very nice close up. Orb-weaving spiders were all over the trees and the gaps between the trees. They had striped legs and a greenish body with a large red spot on the belly. We tried to photograph them, but our cameras would not focus on them. Spider power?
A small lake had a path around it with Japanese bridges and lanterns. The lake was full of large carp that, if one stopped for a while, would appear with their mouths out of the water and open. They looked a bit gross to me. The landscaping around the lake was quite attractive.
There were three Japanese tea houses shown on the map, and when we got to one, I wanted to go in for tea. Rakuu-Tei looked deserted; the door was closed and no people were visible. The sign said they should be open. Sue slid the door open a bit, looked in, and saw there was someone inside. According to the directions, one had to buy a ticket from the machine before entering, so I used up my coin collection to pay 1,400 yen for two tickets; that was about $17. The tea room was traditional Japanese, with padded benches along two walls with tables in front of them. Sue and I were the only customers. The “waitress” came out to get our ticket for tea and a sweet. She wore a kimono and was a bit chubby. She went back into the other, small room. The tea room was plain, except at one end there was a flower and a screen with Japanese writing on it. Everything except the padding on the seats was wood. After a bit she came back with our tea in a bowl and an green round sweet on a small tray. Although the tea tasted good, it amounted to only a quarter of a cup. The sweet seemed to be a marshmallow surrounded by a thin covering of something sweet. All this for only $17!
As we continued through the garden, it started to mist, mist heavily, and then rain. Sue got her umbrella out, and we put on our non-waterproof windbreakers. We passed the French garden and the English garden. The latter was just a big, empty field. Workmen were setting up hundreds of folding chairs and a stage. It looked as if there would be a rock concert the next day.
Leaving the garden, we decided to lunch at Takashimaya, a large local department store. Inside the door was a panel of photographs of food dishes. There were restaurants on three floors, and we went to the 13th floor. To our surprise, there wasn’t one but a dozen restaurants on the floor. After checking them all out, we picked one—probably Indian. The food was good but too much. They also took credit cards.
Back at the hotel, Sue took our dirty laundry to the third floor and washed it. Both of us were feeling full, so for dinner I went across the street to a Lawson convenience store and bought two half bottles of wine, a sandwich, some potato chips, a container of vegetables (which were not showing up in the restaurants), and a bag of “mix nuts.” For dessert we had some candy I had brought along.
For breakfast the last morning in Tokyo, we both had Set B: eggs, toast, bacon, salad, butter, jam, and coffee. I asked the waitress to have my eggs cooked "over easy;" I used hand motions. When they arrived, the eggs had been turned over, but not easy; the yokes were solid. The bacon looked as if it had been steamed, not fried. It was pale and flat. Sue and I both cut off the fat; it tasted pretty good.
After turning in our key, we trundled our bags the three blocks back to the bus station to get our bus at 9:40. I went off and bought two candy bars for lunch. The shops were just opening up. Merchandise was being brought onto the sidewalks, clerks were extolling the virtues of shopping in their store. Sunday seemed like any other day except that there were fewer people around.
The bus driver spoke no English, but we communicated well enough by pointing. We had to put our bags under the bus ourselves. Our reserved seats were just behind the driver, which gave us an excellent view. The ride was scheduled for an hour and 45 minutes. As we were driving through Tokyo we noticed a pizzeria; I had thought we should try a Japanese pizza to see what they did to it. Pepperoni? Squid? Noodles? Not long after we got on the expressway, the traffic started slowing down. It slowed down some more, and some more. It stopped. It started up again. It was terrible. A lot of motorcycles passed us, zipping up the road on the motorcycle lane, which is the dashed line between automobile lanes. It took us over three hours to get to Kamaguchiko! Our flight from Albuquerque to San Francisco took less time. The best that Sue and I could come up with was that these people were taking the fine Sunday day to go “to the shore” as we used to say in New Jersey. At the rate we were going, by the time they got to their destination, they’d have to start back. The next day we found out that Monday was a holiday. Ah, the Japanese long weekend!
At the station a taxi took us to the hotel. The driver had to look at the fine work Inside Japan did on the address. It cost about $20: 1,540 yen. We arrived about 1:30 at the Hotel Yesterday on the shore of lake Kawaguchiko, and of course check in wasn’t until three. The clerk told us to take our shoes off and use the slippers at the door. The slippers were too small, although some had been enlarged when a previous user had torn part of the side. The woman spoke very good English. Our bags went into a side room.
We took our hats, jackets, and shoes and decided to go for a walk. It was cool, and I was not wearing a T-shirt, but the exercise and the sun warmed me up. Our walk went clockwise around the lake. There was a nice stone path for the first couple of hundred yards, then we were walking on the side of the narrow road. About six people passed us, walking on the wrong side of the road. On the lake were several males on jet skis making lots of noise and waves. A speed boat towed a water skier. Several boats contained fishermen, but how they could catch anything with all the activity, I don’t know. It could have been any lake in the US.
After some 45 minutes, we stopped at a lake-side garden named Green Green across from a large hotel. There were trees, plants, seats, and a gardener. We walked to the shore; a couple of fishermen were on the water, and the water skier came by twice. It is probably my age, but being towed around the lake while trying to keep upright on water skis strikes me as rather boring.
When we were walking back, I noticed several people working on drying some grass a bit back from the road. A short walk up a dirt side road brought us to the site where three people were working. The drying rack was just being built; a horizontal piece of wood about two inches in diameter was supported by Vs of other pieces of wood. Sheaves of what they were drying were tied at the bottom, divided in half, and placed over the horizontal piece of wood. I nodded to the younger chap and said “Konnichiwa.” Also with him were an older man and woman. They were very pleasant. The young man spoke a little English, and we gathered that he had visited Albuquerque in New Mexico on an excursion. What they were drying was rice. Another, jovial, man came up, but he did not speak much English. It was nice to see and “talk” to some locals. The jovial man went back toward the road with us, showing us an ear of corn. At first we thought it was popping corn, since he was saying “Pop, pop.” He took it out of the plastic wrap and snapped the ear in half. He ate a few kernels and offered some to us, which we declined. Saying “Arigato goziamasu” we left and went back to the hotel.
The shoes came off. If we had forgotten, the line of slippers at the door would have reminded us. This time the clerk was the chef, who spoke English, but not as well as the woman had earlier. He told us breakfast was at eight and dinner was at six, for hotel residents only. He gave us our key to 205 on the second floor--and no elevator. The room was smaller than the one in Tokyo, and the bathroom was minute. In both Japanese hotels, the bathroom was a Toto; a Toto seal and serial number was on both door jams. The bathrooms were too large to come through the door, so I assume they came in pieces and were reassembled in the hotel rooms. We have Toto toilets at home, and most of the toilets we saw in Japan were Toto. Most toilet rooms were about 10 inches over the floor, which meant stepping up and stepping down. The tub here was about a meter long. The shower, as in Tokyo, was on a metal hose and worked well. The metal hose was connected to the faucet on the sink. Two people could be in the bathroom at the same time, but they would have to be standing. The whole room was a little larger than our shower at home. The toilet in Tokyo was larger, so the Totos must come in various sizes. We’ll see what the future brings.
Sue read in the room while I went out to read somewhere; I never did find a place to read, but I looked around the area. There was a souvenir store next door and a travel site with nothing in English; it did have a vending machine that produced various coffees. Down the road a piece was a cemetery with attractive looking stones, which were quite large, say 4 feet square and just as high. Walking on the path beside the lake brought me to some kind of monument. It was an arch like half of a McDonalds’ sign with a bell. As I turned around, there was Fujisan. It was covered in mist behind the hills, but I took a few photos of it.
At dinner there were a half dozen tables, all the other tables spoke Japanese. The woman who spoke good English was our waitress. The half bottle of wine was just OK; the menu said “wine,” so I assume they had just the one brand. The meal was a typical Western one. A salad was followed by fried trout containing a strip of bacon, and that was followed by chicken. We were given a choice of bread or rice, and we chose bread, which was good.
A family with three young children was in a room on one side of us; on the other side was a young couple. We could hear them through the walls, but the walls did not translate. They were all quiet early. The night was cool, so we were happy to have the quilt-covered-in-a-sheet that is used in Japan.
When I looked out the window in the morning, there was nothing but clouds. It looked like a poor day. Breakfast at 8 was scrambled eggs, bread, beverages, and salad; just like home, except for the salad and the eggs.
The day was improving; the sun was out in places. As the day went on it got much better, and at one spot we were sweating. The day’s walk went along the lake in the opposite direction from the way we had walked the day before. There was path all the way, so we didn’t have to walk in the road. It was a pleasant outing; Fujisan would appear from time to time in a very pale, hazy state. A few people were fishing; some were working; a few motor boats were zipping around. Around lunch time we came upon the bridge that crossed the lake, climbed up to street level, and walked up the street into town, sweating in the sun. For lunch we chose a Japanese restaurant that looked like a Denny’s. There were three menus on the table encased in plastic, with photographs of each meal, which we used to pick out a salad. There was no air conditioning in the restaurant, and we sat there damp with sweat until we were almost finished eating.
After we left we visited the 7-11 next door, although the sign said it was just a 7. It was just like convenience stores in the US except for some of the merchandise. In the next couple of days we went into several convenience stores in search of a pen-sized flashlight. Couldn’t find any.
On the way back we were passing a museum that didn’t interest us when we were stopped by a non-Japanese man. He and his wife were from Ukraine, and he was working in Tokyo. They were driving around on an excursion, but neither of them spoke any Japanese. They did speak excellent English and were happy to speak with people with “European faces.”
Down the road we came upon Omurosengen, a shrine that we had missed on the walk to town. It was quite large, over several acres, and consisted of several buildings. What was amazing to us was that there was no one there. After visiting two shrines, I was coming out of the rest room and saw a single visitor off in the distance. He was the only person we saw there. We walked around some more. My camera started complaining of low battery. It was a very attractive place, and we enjoyed the visit.
There was one more stop on the way back--for ice cream. The lady running the shop had two flavors depicted on posters. We both chose the chocolate-almond cone. She went to the freezer and took out two plastic containers of ice cream, which surprised me since she advertised cones. She took the cover off one and put it upside down in a machine. When she pulled the handle, soft ice cream came out into the cone. Amazing what these Japanese can come up with.
That night we were the only customers at the hotel and the only diners. Corn soup, fried perch, stewed beef, and various vegetables. We arranged with the chef/owner to have our big bags sent to our hotel in Matsumoto, using the very efficient country-wide luggage forwarding system.
After a traditional breakfast of salad, scrambled eggs, small frankfurters, bread, and coffee, we were off for the train station by taxi. The trip back cost us 30% more. Hmmm. Looking at the departure sign, we saw that there was an earlier train to Otsuki. Since we had only four minutes to change trains on our original schedule, I asked the desk person and found we could take the earlier train, which we did. It was full of high school kids. As we traveled along, some kids would get off and others got on; eventually they all got off. Most school kids in Japan wear uniforms. Some of the boys reminded us of kids we had taught: disheveled clothing, unapproved jewelry, which started back to normal as they got off the train. A lot of them were listening to their iPod-type machines or pushing keys on phones.
The train changing went fine, but we were glad we had taken the earlier train because the second train was stationary only 45 seconds. As we traveled along, we could see all of the small gardens among the houses. Vegetables were still in the ground and still green. There were innumerable small rice fields varying from the cut to the not-yet-cut; these were in front yards, side yards, “spare” yards. That was about it for the ride.
Sometime during the journey, Sue reached over to the arm rest on the seat in front of her, pressed the release button and pushed the seat forward. This must have astounded the little, old woman sitting in the seat. I said to Sue, “There’s a woman sitting in that seat.” Sue said she had looked and didn’t see anyone. I suggested that she apologize, and Sue said “Sumimasen.” I don’t think that did any good for the relations between East and West. The woman did not put the chair back, and, when she got off the train, she gave Sue a very hard look. Sue missed that because she had her eyes closed at the time.
At Matsumoto we walked the short way to the Richmond Hotel, the best hotel, so far, that we had visited in Japan. While most hotels don’t let you check in until 3 PM, this one would let us in at 2. Since it was only noon, we left our back packs there and walked to the Matsumoto castle, the only reason for being in the town. It is an imposing structure, inside several moats, and has been reconstructed. To get in we had to take our shoes off and carry them throughout the castle, which was entirely of wood. The stairs were extremely steep with tall steps. A few exhibits were here and there, ancient rifles being the main one.
Walking back to the hotel we commented on two things that have caught our attention. One is walk signs. They are nothing new in themselves; we have them all over the US. These show a green man walking or a red man standing. The Japanese follow these signs exactly. There may be no traffic coming, but the Japanese stand there until the green man shows. Sue looked out the hotel window at 4 AM one morning and saw a woman standing at the street corner waiting for the walk light to change. There was absolutely no traffic or anyone else in sight.
The second thing is the strip down the middle of the sidewalks for blind people. It has a distinctive shape that can be easily ascertained with the foot or cane. These strips are uncomfortable to walk on, and we had never seen anyone using them.
For dinner we went out to a soba noodle restaurant. We had a map, but we walked by the restaurant the first time. It was labeled a good restaurant for foreigners, but it was not strongly advertised on site. And the restaurant staff spoke no English. Our waiter jabbered at us all the time, although he must have ascertained that we had no idea what he was saying. I had a small bottle of sake with my tempera, which came with rice, cold cooked spinach, a bowl of soup, a little dish of spicy hot vegetables. The tempura was two large shrimp, a couple pieces of fish, two large string beans, and some egg plant, all fried with a golden coat. The flavor was not strong, but it was good. The sake was quite good, smoother than the bottle we had tried at home. Sue’s soba noodles were served cold; the small portion I had was pleasant. A television set was playing while we were there. Although we were the only customers when we walked in, two other sets of people came in soon after.
Back in the hotel room a French woman phoned two times. Sue picked up and the woman apologized, saying she was given the wrong number; thinking she had mis-dialed, she called again. Those French!
The hotel breakfast was in a shop on the street very much like the one we had eaten at in Kawaguchiko. The French bus troop was there eating breakfast, and we were moved to a section with locals. The waitress told us to ring the bell on our table when we were ready to order. I ordered Set A and Sue ordered Set D. We got our own beverages at the beverage counter. Sue’s breakfast was pancakes and salad; mine was some salmon with various small dishes that were hard to identify but tasted fine.
Inside Japan had given us various options for getting from Matsumoto to Kamikochi. There were two through buses and several train-then-bus options. The through buses got in sooner, and we booked seats on the 8:50 even though it was suggested that we book the day before. The bus stopped running on November 3, presumably because of snow.
That bus ran on time. The road went up into the “alps” of Japan through many tunnels, short and long, and past at least three large dams. Kamikochi is a small town with a huge parking lot; actually it is a national park. The parking lot was half full of buses when we arrived at 10:30, and it was very cool. I asked at the information desk, got a map and some general directions to the hotel. At the town made up of almost a dozen shops and a suspension bridge were a LOT of people.
The hotel was across the bridge. I filled out the form, telling them I was 76, which for some reason they wanted to know. Our bags had not arrived yet, but the clerk said 2 o’clock was the usual time for such deliveries. At the downstairs rest room I had to remove my shoes and put on toilet slippers for the three-foot walk to the urinal. I put on a T-shirt, and we were ready to go. The back packs were left at the desk. As we emerged from the hotel a large group of red-faced macaques were crossing the bridge on the cables. They have a thick reddish brown fur and a very short tail. Some mothers had a small one clutching her back as they crossed on the two-inch cable. They did not go up to people, but they showed no particular fear of them. Over thirty of them passed by the interested crowd. They were quite cute, but we noticed a few of their leavings as we went on our walk.
At the busy convenience store I bought a bottle of water for 30% more than it cost in Tokyo, and we started up the left bank of the river. The beginning had a lot of small, black flies. It turned out that they bit, and I had a swelling on my forehead at the end of the day. A few of the trees had changed color, but most of them were still green. Several small creeks crossed the path. There were lots of people on the path, some of them in complex hiking gear with poles. Some were wearing bear bells, or, as we call them, dinner bells. They are supposed to alert the bears so they will move into the woods. The path was quite smooth, part of it being on wooden boards. When a tree trunk appeared in the appropriate condition, flat, we sat down and had our granola bars and some water. In the cities, Japanese women seldom wear hats, but when they are on vacation, they put on bucket hats.
Myojin pond was a popular stopping point. It contained a snack bar and a temple, and it cost 300 yen to visit the pond. The pond itself was interesting in a minor way, but not worth traveling very far to see. Part of the path was hard to negotiate because of the convoluted tree roots, although there were wooden paths here and there. The real mystery is why anyone would pay 300 yen to see it. We think it had religious significance.
There was another suspension bridge here; we crossed it and started back to town. This was less interesting than the trip up, but it was quicker.
The desk clerk took us up to our room, where our bags were waiting. The room was Japanese, the bathroom was Western (it had the Toto toilet that ran water when one sat down and a heated “Washlet” seat), and there was a small room with a great view of the mountain, two easy chairs, a table, and a refrigerator. Refrigerators are very popular in Japanese hotels, each one we had been in had had a refrigerator. All empty. The Japanese room was an eight tatami mat room, with a low table and two legless chairs. There was also a television and a hot water heater for coffee and tea that we couldn’t figure out how to use. I was afraid to experiment too much with it because I didn’t want anything on the tatami.
We had chosen the 6 o’clock dinner. There were two others, one at 7:15 and one later. At six we were at the door and were shown our table. Most of the food was already on the table, but some was delivered during the meal. It was typical Japanese, with chop sticks being the only utensils. There were a lot of small dishes containing little portions of various vegetables, seared tuna with wasabi, appetizers, a grill pot (with two small pieces of beef, zucchini, and egg plant), bowl of soup, grilled fish on a stick, bowl of cool udon, plate of tempura (one mild chilly pepper, mushroom), rice, tea, a slice of melon for dessert, and sake. Nothing was exceptionally tasty, but we enjoyed the meal, especially the newness of it all.
I talked with the desk clerk, who came up to our room to show us how to use the hot water heater. It was pretty easy since there was already water in it; press one of the half dozen buttons, put the cup under the nozzle, and press another button until the cup is full enough. The water was fairly hot but not boiling.
The maid had come in while we were at dinner and made our futons in the Japanese room, moving the table to the wall. There was not much extra space in the room with the bedding out.
The next day was a perfect day, very few clouds and cold/cool. Before the sun came up there was a gallery of photographers below us ready to shoot. I didn’t think the scenery that great, but I did like the photographers. Breakfast at seven was traditional Japanese: rice and tea, of course, soup, fish, pickles, two slices of egg something, and some vegetables in small cups. Chop sticks only, of course.

After buying some bars for lunch, we started up the river on the right side. There were some excellent views of the mountains in the sun as we went along under the trees. One could not walk far without running into other visitors. Some of them were very friendly, saying “konnichiwa” after ten AM and smiling. Some looked down. Some stared straight ahead. Some responded pleasantly to a “konnichiwa.” Just about the same as the US. One or two Japanese talked to us, and Sue chatted a bit with an Australian woman who was visiting Japan with 20 others.

When we arrived at the first toilet, we had to wait because the septic tank was being cleaned out by two blue trucks. When we arrived at the second toilet, we had to wait because the septic tank was being cleaned out by two blue trucks. Were they the same trucks? I don’t know. When hiking in the US, I can step behind a tree because no one will be along for thirty minutes. In Japan it is thirty seconds.

When we got back to the hotel, we had been walking about five hours.

For dinner they had moved our table, but the menu was pretty much the same, 9 or 10 small dishes with chop sticks.

In the morning I went outside before breakfast. A fair number of people were about, most of them taking photos. One chap was painting. When I was crossing back across the bridge a monkey was coming toward me, the only one I had seen since the first day. He posed for a couple of pictures. After the Japanese breakfast, we paid our bill for the wine, and walked to the bus station with our bags. We found the right “gate,” and rode the bus to an intermediate town, where we changed for a bus to Takayama. The road out of Kamikochi was narrow, and the bus had to wait several times for buses coming the other way.

Our Ryokan Tanabe was a ten minute walk from the station. I filled out the form, but we couldn’t check in until three. We left our bags and back packs at the ryokan and walked to the Hida Folk Village Area. On the way we lunched at a place that made beer, and we had beer and a small pizza. The pizza was pretty much the same as the US, although the crust was a tad underdone. The beer was good.

The Folk Village was further up the hill, and they let us in for only 700 yen each. The village consists of about 20 buildings from around Japan from different time periods. To go in most, one had to remove his shoes, so we went into only 2 or 3. The day was pleasant, with some clouds and a cool temperature. Although the outsides of the buildings were different, the insides were pretty much the same, large empty rooms; some had exhibits. The village had no gift shop, which we thought unusual. The shop across the street had a lot of food, but not much else.

After checking in and getting oriented, we evaluated our dirty clothes bags and found them full. I called the front desk and asked if there was a nearby coin laundry. After a short confusion, the owner said she would come to our room. The helpful, friendly Mrs. Tanabe, who spoke some English, found the laundry on our map and then drew several pictures to describe what was inside. Two of the machines were wash and dry, some of them were only dry, one in the corner was only wash. She drew other pictures to tell us where the laundry was, since there was no sign outside the laundry. After all of the drawing, she got up and gestured where these machines were. Pretty exhausting. After getting change and changing shoes, we went off. We found it, but the “parking lot” was only one car wide. The laundry room itself was very small, about half the size of our kitchen. All the directions on the machines was in Japanese, but there was a picture. We thought we had it figured out and put 800 yen in the machine, which furnished soap, pushed a couple of buttons, and walked back to the hotel. Sue went back in an hour and got the very hot clean clothes out of the machine.
At six, our “waitress” arrived at our room with dinner. Lots of small dishes and three heaters burning some combustible wax. We found from other meals that the wax soon burns out. There was the usual array of food, some of which we could identify. As usual, the only strong taste was wasabi, but the meal was pleasant if too large. I got a back ache from sitting at my legless chair at the low table even though the chair had a back. I got an Asahi beer out of the refrigerator.
After finishing I called the desk, our table was cleared, and soon our beds were taken out of the closet and placed on the floor. We both had a good sleep.
The morning shower was a sit-down affair. The whole room was the shower, although there was a tub. Japanese tubs are deeper than ours, for better soaking? The shower holder was waist level and there was a plastic stool to sit on.
Breakfast had been ordered for six, and at a quarter to six a woman came in to put our beds away. The meal was another gigantic affair of mysterious dishes, three or four of which were identified by us. Later I asked to have a different breakfast the next day, say, toast and jam. The owner said she knew just what we wanted. We’ll wait and see.
After changing footwear several times, we got out on the street and headed for the morning market, along the river. The “market” was under awnings and stores across from them were open. We actually bought a few things. Anything purchased has to be light and small to travel well. Halfway down the street it started to rain a bit. Several people bought umbrellas; by the time we reached the end of the street, it had stopped raining. It rained a bit here and there throughout the day.
Up a block and back brought us to the old part of the city. I had expected to see houses, but it was all shops. One store sold only rice “cookies” and a man was cooking some large ones near the street. Several people bought them and seemed to be enjoying them, so I bought one. It tasted OK; it was very crisp and the package contained a small packet of water absorber! We wandered through several other shops and stopped at a sake brewery for a box of sake. A small wooden box about an inch and a half square was put on a plate and filled to the brim with sake. We sat at a table with three young women and enjoyed the drink. At another brewery off the main path they gave smaller cups of sake, but they were free. There are about ten different types of sake, but reading about them doesn’t really say much. The rice that sake comes from is different from the type that is eaten. It is fermented with yeast and rice koji, a diastatic enzyme. We liked all the sake we had had in Japan, but I doubt I could find any particular type in the US.
Another chance to take off our shoes was at a Folk Museum, a very large old house advertised with a small sign. The house was made with some gigantic beams. I’ve wondered how the Japanese survived winter with no insulation. The museum gave out free tea and a rice cookie.
After all this excitement we went back to the hotel. I had a cup of coffee in the lounge while Sue got on the free computer to check her email. The hotel had two hot baths—one stone and one wooden. Every day the signs were changed so that men and women could experience both in a 2-day stay. We decided to use them. Two Japanese women shared the stone bath with Sue, but I was alone in the men’s bath. There were three washing places low to the floor, and I took a stool and wooden bucket to one of them. Soap and shampoo were at each station in pump bottles. After shampooing and washing and rinsing well, I stepped into the hot tub, which was quite large, say ten feet by ten feet and about three feet deep where I was. For about ten minutes I enjoyed the hot water. There was a round, wooden tub with hotter water, and I had been in one when I was in the service in Japan, but the “cooler” tub was what I wanted now. In the exit/entrance room were three sinks with razors, lotions, combs, and shelves of baskets for clothes and personal items. It was a relaxing experience.
The meals were very prompt, and at seven our “waitress” arrived with the food. We said “Itadakimus.” There were two, thin slices of good beef and two pieces of chicken that were quite good. Again, we still don’t know much of what we ate. As usual, it was subtly flavored.
The special breakfast was good. Cold scrambled eggs, toast of thick pre-buttered bread, marmalade, salad, coffee, tea, and a yogurt drink. We had enjoyed our stay at the hotel, which was in excellent condition, with blonde, perfect wood, doors that slid with a touch of the finger. A very attractive hotel, but a bit uncomfortable sitting for the Westerner.
When we checked out we found we had to pay the owner to forward our two bags to Kanazawa; she would pay the shipper. She said the paper forecast good weather for the day. With our backpacks we were off to the bus station, where we were 16 minutes early and there was already a long line. Everyone got on the bus, and there were a few extra seats.
Okamachi (Shirakawago) was overcast. A long, narrow bridge connected the parking lot to the town. Inside Japan said we could phone the proprietor and get a ride, but it was only a short walk to the minshuku (home-stay house). The proprietor spoke very good English and told us how to get to Iijima, the nearby village where the sake festival was taking place on that day. Check in was 3 PM, dinner was 7. We had taken an earlier bus, and it was about 10:30; the bus to Iijima was at 1:10. We spent the three hours walking around the village with hundreds of other visitors. It rained a good part of the time, sometimes heavily. The town was attractive, with tall, thatched houses with very thick thatch, 2 or 3 feet thick. At the top of a hill there was an overlook of the town, but it was quite hazy, so the photos were probably a waste of time. For lunch we had a delicately flavored mango soft ice cream. There was a Nippon Rally driving through town; the cars were mostly small sports coupes, some without tops--the occupants getting pretty wet in the rain. There were probably close to 30 cars, all spread out in the traffic. The occupants were smiling and enjoying themselves.
At 1:10 the bus arrived. How they keep to schedule is a wonder. Sue asked the driver several times if the bus went to Iijima. He couldn’t understand her, so Sue showed him a map. He said, “Ah, Iijima! Hai.” We were the only passengers on the bus, and the ride took a little over ten minutes. The bus let us off in the town, but we had no idea where the festival was or, really, what went on. The hotel proprietor had said she would pick us up at five and drew a map to point out where she would pick us up. Sue wanted to find the pickup point before we looked for the festival. A man directing traffic told us where the shrine was, and we walked down the road to find it.
We found it and the festival—the Doburoku Matsui, the time for the residents of the valley to give thanks for a good rice harvest. It was obviously the site of the festival because there were about eight food stalls set up near the shrine. The people in the stalls were all cooking food, except one stall that was one where you tried to knock over six stacked cans. I never saw any customers there; maybe he had tacky prizes. I recognized noodles and fried eggs; the rest of the food was a mystery. For 400 yen I bought a cup in a cardboard box and got a couple tablespoons of unrefined sake with small curds still in it.
Eventually, the procession arrived: people in old Japanese formal clothing: kimonos; a dragon or lion, a large drum on wheels. Also, a large, gold painted object under a plastic cover (to protect it from the rain) arrived on wheels and was carried into the shrine by four men with helpers. Something went on in the shrine for some time, with various people walking up the steps to observe. More and more people arrived after we did, and they were still coming in.
A space was cleared in front of the steps to the shrine, people gathered about, and a demonstration took place. Four men under a painted cloth with a dragon/lion head at the front did a wriggly dance to the music of a flute and a drum. It went on for some time; occasionally another person was involved, probably a human fighting off this dragon/lion. Some other things went on, some announcements, some important looking people walking around. Long, thin bamboo mats were rolled out on the ground almost three feet apart. The people sat on these mats back to back. Over three hundred people sat on these mats and after some more announcements, girls in white aprons moved up the aisles pouring the unfiltered sake into the cups of the people. Sake is under strict government supervision; this was the only time during the year when sake, unrefined, could be distributed to the people. When the girls ran out of sake, they went back and got more. Seconds, thirds, fourths…were OK.
I had seconds, and then we went across the street because our legs were getting sore. I bought a coffee from a vending machine, which ground the coffee; it was hot and good. Behind the store there was a well-done, full-sized, in-house display of an old house being constructed. It showed the laying of the roof grass, the construction of the beams, and the building of the floors and walls. Life-sized construction workers were all busy. A little before we were to be picked up, I went back across the street to see a lot of very happy people. The vendors were still cooking and a few people were still buying. The mats were being rolled up and the trash was being collected. It was obviously a successful enterprise.
At ten to five the hotel owner was kind enough to pick us up. We took our shoes off, went through the dining room, and entered our room, which was quite small. Except for a four foot high stack of bedding in one corner, the room was empty. There were two shelves containing a small TV and a set of rules for the minshuku. An Australian couple with their two children were staying there also. There was one shower with sink and a toilet room with a urinal and two enclosed toilets. After mulling it over and talking with the Australians, we figured out that we would make the beds. I did my best to supervise Sue, but she was very fast.
At seven, dinner was served at three low tables around a square fire pit. The fire had gone out, but there was a wood stove still emitting heat. We sat on cushions, and I had a lot of trouble finding someplace to put my legs. I was not comfortable. Dinner was the usual array of small dishes containing the usual mysterious food. We read for a bit and hit the sack.
Sue and I decided to skip the shower. Breakfast wasn’t until eight, so I went out for a walk. The day promised to be sunny. There were a few people out, but the buses had not started arriving yet. The Australian man chose a Japanese breakfast, but the rest of us chose the “toast” breakfast, which consisted of toast, jam, scrambled egg with a small sausage, salad, and tea.
Plenty of time was available to visit the reconstructed village near the bus stop. It is made up of about 15 houses moved there from the surrounding area. It is attractively arranged, especially in the sun. If one takes his shoes off, he can enter the buildings. Some exhibits were available in the buildings.
An hour bus ride got us to Kanazawa on the coast of the Sea of Japan. Our shipped bags had arrived, and we left our back packs for a walk to the Kenrokuen Garden. Omi-Cho Market was on the way, so we wandered through it and had lunch of beer and pizza. The pizza was served after a salad, which consisted of salad and couple of fish slices. The crust of the pizza was good, although the center was very thin.
The walk continued to the Garden, which is listed as number three in the best gardens in Japan. Admission was free to those of us over 65, which my driver’s license confirmed. It was pleasant; we saw one or two flowers blooming. Lots of water was running. Several busloads of tourists were there taking pictures of each other. Workers were trimming the pine trees and working in the grass. We were feeling our age and left after 45 minutes or so. Stopping at the market, we picked up a bottle of sake--checking our dictionary to communicate with the store clerk--two cans of beer, and a few things to eat for dinner. It is hard to find things in Japanese markets; finding fish is easy, but anything else is a toss-up.
The breakfast was advertised as a buffet, but there wasn’t a lot to choose from: scrambled eggs, a roll, jelly, rice, rice soup, juice, coffee, tea, ham slices from a prepared roll. We were brought yogurt with two sauces. I think mine was kiwi, but it was a very subtle sauce. Nothing in English, of course.
At nine we walked up to Kanazawa Castle Park. The large building being reconstructed was under plastic sheeting; we walked around that to the building that had been finished, a long building that had been used to store armament and was a watchtower. Being of advanced age, we got in free. After taking off our shoes, we went through the building of beautiful wood. Part of the building was in diamond shape (rhombus), which took much skill from the carpenters. There were several examples of the joining work done at the supporting pillars. The third floor was small and used for observation of the surrounding area. The steps were very steep. There were not many others in the building, and it was a pleasant experience.
After walking around the grounds some more, we left for Department Store 109. There was no food floor, but there were restaurants on every other floor. On the second floor we ate at Mother Earth, which served waffles, etc. The food was quite good, waffles, ice cream, whipped cream, and bananas. I had a coffee, but, when I asked for seconds, I was told it would cost 550 yen, and I demurred.
The Kanazawa Shinise Memorial Hall (old merchant house) cost 100 yen each to enter. It was obviously a slow day because the ticket man was completely asleep, sitting in his chair. The building was interesting, having several exhibits, one showing the pharmaceutical part of the business. To see the interior of the house we had to take our shoes off. There was a tree made up only of candy(!), and a display of gift wrapping.
On the way to our next stop, we stopped at a store selling games. I thought it was closed until my foot hit the entrance pad and the door opened. They were selling shoji, go, and mah jong games, among other items. A man (clerk?) was tying up a box in the back of the store. When we left, I said, “Arigato.” He just kind of looked at me.
Our goal was the Myoryuji Temple, also called Ninja-dera; we had asked our hotel receptionist to make reservations for us. It was very difficult for us to find, although it was listed clearly on the map, because nowhere was there anything in English. We saw a bunch of school kids leaving by an opening in the wall; Sue said, “That must be a school.” I asked one of the boys if he spoke English, he didn’t, so I asked about the Myoryuji Temple. After a few pronunciation exchanges, he said this was that temple. There were several other students with him, and they got a kick out of helping us. We went in and found a kiosk and asked the girl if this was the temple, and eventually got the confirmation. She said to wait in front of the temple. I went outside the front gate, on another street, but there was nothing in English there.
There was nothing oral in English during our stay. The group went up to the door and left their shoes in the cabinet; so did we. When we got to the door, the girl checked our name against the reservation list and let us in, asking me to leave my Michigan pack in the storage room (by pointing). We waited through about five minutes of Japanese until we were told (by pointing) to join a group. They had given us booklets in English, because the guide spoke only Japanese. The tour was quite interesting; there were secret stairs, hidden passageways, trick doors. The four story building had seven levels. The tours seemed to be full, so the Japanese must find the building interesting. Although it is called the Ninja temple, it was not built by the Ninjas. The tricks of the interior reminded people of the Ninjas, giving it its name.
At dinner time we went to a department store’s 6th floor and chose an Italian restaurant, having spaghetti. My salmon and broccoli dish looked and tasted like bacon and broccoli, but otherwise was good, although there was no bread. On the first floor we had frozen yogurt for dessert.
After breakfast, we said goodbye to our tiny room and took the train to Kyoto, a two hour trip. We found our way to the subway and got instructions on getting tickets and got to our stop, the first one. No escalator or elevator was evident, so we toted our bags up the stairs and to the hotel. The hotel had a laundry room that took coins, so we did our laundry while waiting to check in.
We took a walk and looked for somewhere to eat dinner. Two restaurants were in a brochure we had, but we could not find them. All the writing was in Japanese, and they were closed at that time. We did find a third, although it wasn’t easy.
At six we went back to the third restaurant and found they had no tables until eight! So we walked back to the hotel and had steak dinners. The steak was very tender but the taste was very subtle. I ordered French fries and they were good. Sue’s garlic bread was subtly garlic. The music was horrible. Some woman singing in English, or should I say screeching in English.
At breakfast classical music was playing in the same restaurant. Their buffet was wider, with omelets, bacon, ham, a variety of Japanese dishes, toast, coffee, and tea. Our guide arrived promptly at 9. Although we were interested in the Jidai Matsuri Festival (this parade depicts the various ages of Kyoto with people in period dress), Mariko said we would have to stand there for an hour before the parade to get any kind of spot for photographs. That dampened our spirits for the parade. We took the train to the north western part of the city, Arashiyama, and visited the Seiryoji Temple and the Tenryuji Temple. The day was beautiful, with only a few clouds in the sky. A lot of school kids in uniform were at the temples and the business area. Mariko said some kids came from schools in other towns and visited Kyoto for the week. For lunch I had sukiyaki, and Sue had some tempura. Mariko had eel. Mariko had spent a year in England and a year in the US. Her English was good, but with an obvious Japanese accent.
After eating, we visited Daikakuji Temple. The three temples have sort of melded together, but I remember walking through a bamboo woods that was quite different. The color for this part of Kyoto was orange instead of red for temples. The last stop of the day was the Golden Pavilion, Kinkakuji Temple. We started walking to it, but after 20 minutes or so Mariko said it was another 40 minutes, so I said, “Let’s take the bus!” Mariko walked rather slowly, and I was getting tired.
We got there at a perfect time. The sun was low in the sky shining on the gold colored building reflected in the water; it glowed. On our first trip, we had visited this spot, but it was not as stunning as it was now. The current building is a reconstruction; the original had been burned by an arsonist before our former visit. By the time we left the grounds, clouds were blocking the sun. Mariko got us back by bus and subway. She had done a great job, and we thanked her.
For dinner we took the subway back to the JR station and looked through the restaurants in the Porta section. They even had a sandwich place. Japanese was the choice that night; I had some tempura and noodles; Sue had soba and tempura. While eating in Japan, we found most of the food was cold, except the soups. When something was cooked at the table, that was hot, of course. Napkins, when they were present, were small and very thin. Water was usually served.
Breakfast was followed by a walk to Nijo Castle, built in 1626. Several school groups accompanied us through the castle in stockings. The castle had nightingale floors to alert the occupants to intruders. Most Japanese rooms, including this castle, are empty. When they are used, chairs and tables are brought in. Two or three of the rooms were set up displaying meetings, the rest did have paintings on the walls from the time of construction. Upon leaving, we put our shoes on again and went through the gardens. Only a few flowers were blooming, but the water with rocks and bridges made it look attractive.
Lunch was at a Lawson’s where they had a strip table against the window and several chairs. By the time we got to the station it was getting close to the time for our next appointment. Finding how large a ticket to buy and the right gate took time, and then we waited while two express trains roared by. It was about twenty to one when we arrived at Katsura Station; our “tour” started at one.
We zipped out of the station and got in a cab, showing the driver our Inside Japan directions. The driver was good, and we arrived at Saihoji Temple with a minute to spare. The shoes came off, I paid the 6,000 yen fee, and we were shown into the temple. The fifteen stations with chairs at tables, were, of course, taken. Sue and I joined the hundred or so people at the low writing desks. An invocation was given, punctuated with drum beats and an occasional bell. In Japanese, of course. Then, with brush and ink, we visitors started copying the sutras. One of the religious men came over to us and said in excellent English that we did not have to copy the whole thing and could go to the garden whenever we wished. He did ask that we put our names, addresses, and a wish on the paper and leave it before we went to the garden.
The copying was done on a thin paper where the sutras had been printed faintly. The characters were rather small, so it was not easy for a person used to using a ball point pen to accomplish the task. After I had finished two columns, my leg started going to sleep, and I got up, limped over to deposit my effort, and went outside to wait for Sue.
After putting the shoes on again, we walked to the moss garden. We thought we might have been here on our previous visit, but we had not. The garden is a pond surrounded by trees. Moss grows on the ground and around the base of the trees. Some of the trees had started to change color, which was attractive; getting them reflected in the water made a nice photograph. Although there had been a lot of people at the writing, there were only a few on the path around the pond. The moss was attractive, and there were various types of moss, but I know very little about moss. The trip around the pond was very pleasant. An interesting side note about this garden is that the copying of the sutras was put in place to discourage tourists. So many people were tramping all over the moss that the garden was being ruined. The temple decided to charge a lot of yen and require sutra copying in order to keep the number of visitors down to only those who were really determined to see the garden.
The man at the gate, who also spoke English, gave us a couple of ways to get back, and we decided on a bus. The wrong bus. It took us 20 or more minutes to go four blocks when we came to a movie house on a two-lane road. It took over an hour to get back to a familiar place.
We decided to get more yen and went into a “bank,” where we found about ten stations at which to do business, but no clerks and nothing in English. As we were passing Takashimaya Department Store, Sue said we should ask them where we could change money. They said, “Here.” When they pointed it out, the exchange rate was written out on a sign on the desk. The rate was a bit better in our favor, 88.45 yen per dollar.
For dinner, we ate at a restaurant where the customer decided what he wanted, bought a ticket at a vending machine for that item, and gave it to the waitress. We both chose ginger pork; there was not much pork, but it tasted fine.
Our last full day in Kyoto was our shopping day. We walked up to the Kyoto Handicraft Center, which took about an hour, and did a good bit of shopping. I bought a Japanese dagger with a display stand, a book on the largest battleship in the world, and a few other items. Sue bought a T-shirt, a ceramic kitchen knife, and four woodblock prints. We took the subway back to the hotel, rested an hour, and started out on the Geisha Walk.
We were to meet Peter Macintosh in front of the Minamiza Theater in the Gion district. When we got there, the front of the theater was packed with Japanese. They were waiting to get in to the theater. Boxes were being passed out to the customers: refreshments for the intermission. When most of the people had gone into the theater, we saw Peter and gave him a wave. We chatted for a bit, waiting for “maybe one or two” other people. They did not show up.
He took us to his “club,” a private bar where he served alcohol. It was run rather strangely, and we weren’t really sure how it worked.
Walking down the street we saw two women in kimonos with their faces whitened. Peter said they were not Geishas, just girls out to have their pictures taken. I took their picture anyway, and got the finger V sign. The symbol means “peace,” we learned, and it has really caught on with the kids in Japan. A bit farther we met five young women in kimonos who were going home from a Geisha class. There were two Geisha schools nearby offering classes to the aspiring young women. These were multistory buildings. Peter’s wife had been a Geisha. As we went along, Peter would chat briefly with some of the locals. He read and spoke Japanese and had lived in Japan for 16 years. He was a former professional soccer player in Canada, until the team went kaput. We spent most of the twilight hour walking around the neighborhood. Peter was willing to answer any of our questions, none of which I remember.
We ate at one of the restaurants in Takashimaya. In the morning we checked out, forwarded our bags, and started our most complicated trip to Koyasan, the headquarters of the Shingon Zen Buddhists. There were a subway ride, a couple of train changes, a cable car (in this case a funicular), and a bus trip.
Off the cable car, we took out our maps to see what bus to take. A Japanese bus driver came over and told us to get on the bus at gate 2. The bus was full, so we had to stand. A Japanese woman with some of her hair dyed blond took up two seats. After several stops, the driver got up and shooed us off the bus, gesturing where we were to go. Many thanks to the helpful Japanese!
Our information was that check-in time here was 4PM; it was a little after 12. I took off my shoes and went up to “reception.” That is in quotes because the room was a real mess, shelves of books and papers, desk with many piles of papers, vertical files full of papers. The table was one with short legs, so anyone would have to cross one’s legs to sit at it. The man in charge of the office found the right file, asked for our voucher, checked our passports, and had me fill out a form. He called over another man, who spoke good English and took us to our rooms. There was a large vestibule, a main room, a bedroom with beds on the floor already made, and a toilet area with sink (cold water only), toilet, and shower/tub. There was a small covered area outside with two normal chairs, which we never got to use: too cold on this mountain top.
In the main room was a small TV, a large metal safe (a foot and a half on a side), a telephone, a heater, a short table with a heating element under it, and cushions. No chairs. There was a large, beautiful garden out the sliding glass doors and past the three-foot verandah. The room had a not-faint odor to it; the best similarity I could think of was a damp house that had been closed up for half a year or so. It was not a pleasant odor, but neither was it terribly unpleasant. Our evaluation of the rooms was that they were top of the line some 30 years ago, but had not been kept up. Some of the paper walls had holes in them; there were stains on the walls; the bathroom had been worked on, rather inefficiently; some of the decorative pieces were missing (a bamboo strip on the ceiling, for instance); the doors slid noisily.
Taking our cameras and regaining our shoes, we went out. A few doors down the street we had noodles for lunch, slurping only slightly less than the natives, and then continued on. The sky was heavily overcast, but no rain fell. More trees were in fall plumage, lots of shades of red and some yellow. Quite attractive. There were lots of religious buildings, of course; this was started as a religious site, and women were not allowed in the area. Now a town has grown up around the temples, buses run regularly, the cable car meets the train.
A bit after four we were back in the hotel, trying to find a comfortable spot where we could read. I found a solid abutment near the door to the toilet, and arranged a few cushions. Sue was able to sit up! At 5:20 there was a knock on the jam of the outer door. I opened the door from the main room and a man was standing in the hall saying “Itchi-something.” I shook my head in bewilderment; he made circular motions near his mouth. I finally decided he wanted us to go eat--40 minutes early! We followed him down the hall in our stocking feet, into the dining hall, and into a large room where our dinner was sitting on four small tables. Cushions were there, but, of course, no chairs. The food was good, but we were uncomfortable eating it. I’d have one foot out, then the other foot, then I’d try both out, sometimes cross-legged. All the time my back was slightly aching. As usual, most of the food was unrecognizable. We had chopsticks and a soup spoon. No one was watching us, so we broke several eating rules I’m sure. Knowing which dish to dip into which sauce was just a guess. After dinner, I limped back to our room.
The man who showed us to our room had said the religious service started in the morning at 6:30. We set the alarm for 5:30 to leave time to shower beforehand. The bedroom was cold and the top cover didn’t quite get all my feet, so I put a blanket over the bottom. The futon was comfortable, although a bit thin.
At 5:30 it was cold, and we decided not to shower. At six we got up and dressed and were at the room of the religious services by 6:30. No one was there. A woman, we assumed it was a woman because of the voice, said “Good morning.” Her head was shaved and she was wearing the orange and brown “uniform” of the temple. It was quite dark in the room, although a few candles were burning. She took us around telling us a little about the various icons, such as “This is new.” The sides of the room were filled with hundreds of icons of many different sizes. After ten minutes, we found out that the service started at 7, so we went back to our room.
A couple of minutes before seven we were back, and the service had already begun. Five Japanese staying at the hotel were kneeling in front of us; we sat on low chairs with backs and sliding feet that curved under the chair. The monks were chanting; occasionally one of them hit a large bowl that resounded; occasionally a bell rang once. One of the monks came out and spoke to the seven of us in Japanese. After five minutes or so he called us up one by one and put a woven, highly colored bracelet on our left wrists; then we walked on our knees to an incense burner. I don’t know what the Japanese did, but I looked at it for a few seconds and got up and went back to my seat.
After a half hour, we visitors got up and went to breakfast. It was a small breakfast, soup, rice, tea, and two or three unidentified dishes.
This was the only really bad day of our trip. It had started raining before midnight, and it rained all day. It was not a heavy rain, but it kept coming. Instead of walking as we had planned, we stayed in our room reading and trying to get comfortable and trying to ignore the odor. For an hour I went to a spot off the dining area where there were four easy chairs and a sofa. I used one of the seat cushions for a back pillow and read, although cold air was pouring in between the sliding outside panels.
The day before, we had bought some items for lunch on the trail. We ate them for lunch with some tea which had been brought to us in good thermoses. Just as two large bus loads of Japanese tourists were coming in for lunch, we decided to go out. I was able to borrow an umbrella, and we walked through part of a huge cemetery. The path was stone and ran through the forest of giant cedar trees, a yard in diameter. Grave stones were everywhere. In Japan 90 some per cent of the deceased are cremated, so the only space needed is for the stone. The stones varied in size from tiny to gigantic. The older stones were covered in moss. Every once in a while, we would pass a stone with a metal sieve in front of it, usually containing some coins. Since it rained so much, sieves were more practical than bowls. Some of the figures on the stones had colored bibs, a few were more completely dressed. There were several other people, locals, on the path. We passed a fairly large stone labeled “Panasonic” and another with two statues of workers labeled “Nissan.” One site had a 25-foot rocket ship. Our pants below the knees were pretty wet when we got back to the hotel.
We ate (next to a room that held an American family with a small child), showered, slept, and were out of the hotel a little after 6:30. The night before, I tried to tell the person who took us to dinner that we would not have breakfast since we were leaving early. He did not understand the Japanese word for breakfast as we pronounced it, several times. After dinner, we told the man who had checked us in. He understood the “breakfast” part, but wasn’t sure what ei meant (no) in this context. He sent another man to our room who spoke English, and we were able to finally get the message across.
We waited in the rain at the bus stop with two men speaking French. They also spoke excellent English. The bus arrived in time, the cable car left on time, the train left a few minutes after the cable car arrived. After five different carriers, we got back to our local station in Tokyo. Inside Japan did an excellent job getting us from place to place, and the forwarding of luggage was a great boon. I arranged for an earlier train to Narita the next day.
Maps were always a problem whether they were on a poster beside the walk or on a piece of paper. We have found north at the top of the map all our lives. In Japan and in the directions from Inside Japan, this was not always true. Walking the streets of Japan, one might find a map with north to the left; a few block further on it might be to the lower left or to the right. It was always a concern.
We had been told that the Narita Express train was hard to find. It was. It was because one had to go on one track and then take stairs to Track 5. The United check-in was very helpful. It is never very interesting to sit around an airport for several hours, even in business class lounges. Sue bought a few things and I changed our yen back into dollars. The flight to Seattle was OK, although the seats were not as good as flying over. They did not go perfectly flat. Seattle was an experience. We whizzed through passport control, and then waited almost an hour and a half while the workmen tried to open the container with our bags. When we got our bags, we went through customs, gave our bags back to United, took four or five trains, and got to our airplane about ten minutes before it was due to take off. How our bags ever made it, I don't know.
Denver was an interminable lay over. It was snowing and planes were late and being canceled. What a boring wait, 5-6 hours, when one is in the middle of the night. We finally did get home. The cats, as usual, were completely indifferent.

Hiking and Eating through Europe

Italy/Switzerland May, 2009

The hiking trip we did on our own to Switzerland in 2008 was so successful that we decided to branch out in 2009 and take in 2 countries. Headwaters, a UK adventure company, offers independent trips to both Italy and Switzerland--all accommodations and 2 meals a day included, with hiking routes and guides added to the mix. Using their US agents, Breakaway Adventures, we selected "Gastronomic Walks in Tuscany" and "Classic Swiss Alps Walks." We added a few nights in Bologna before we started and some in Zurich before we flew home.

When Sue originally booked the flight to Europe, it left Albuquerque around 10AM. A good time. The departure time was then changed to 7:15 AM. A bad time. We decided to stay at the Hilton Garden Inn near the airport the night before, so we wouldn’t have to get up so early.

Packing is always the worst part of the trip, but Sue did most of it, and we were ready to go around 5 PM. For a change, I drove through Bernalillo to get on I-25. After getting on the interstate, it was an easy drive to the airport. Sue went to check in, and I gathered together my stuff. When I got to the desk, Sue was still leaning against it while the clerk was talking to someone else. She eventually left, Sue checked in, and I went to the room while Sue got her stuff.

For dinner, we had decided to walk over to the airport and eat at Garduno’s (since closed). I figured we wouldn’t be eating any Mexican food for a couple of weeks. The walk took about 15 minutes, but when we got there, they were serving only a buffet. We decided to stay, and had their fajita buffet. It was OK, but I ate too much, as I have been doing lately.

Back at the hotel, we left a request for a 5 AM wake up call, read a bit, and went to sleep. We were up at 4:45 and showered. I drove next door to the Airport Fast Park, where we usually park. The pickup was right there, as usual, and it took us to our check-in desk. Nowadays, all checking in is done by the customers at the computers by the check-in desk. A clerk comes along and puts luggage tags on and, for international flights, gives out the boarding passes.

Besides our checked bag we each had a back pack. Checking through the security went fairly quickly, but one has to remember to take one’s shoes off and all metallic objects out of one’s pockets. We went through the line that had the new x-ray machine. One had to stand with his hands behind his head after removing everything from his pockets. I had to go back again, probably because I forgot to take out my passport and a paper clip. It would be easier to arrive at security in one’s underwear and get dressed after the process.

The plane took off on time, although “Omar” had to submit to another random search. We were in first class, so we got breakfast included. These United flights have eight first-class seats.

After arriving at Dulles, we had to wait five hours for our plane to Frankfurt. Most of the time we spent in a Business Lounge listening to other passengers call their friends, relatives, and business partners. In the US, these lounges now charge for alcohol, although it was too early for a drink anyway. I wandered around outside, then Sue wandered around outside, then we had a cookie, then we had a glass of water. After all that, there were only four more hours to kill. Of course we had novels to read.

At four o’clock we walked down to our gate. A little before four thirty the boarding began. I am always impressed by Business Class seating, which is so far apart. We took off our hiking boots and put on the socks they provide. I was wearing my compression socks to see if that would help me not get swollen ankles. The leg rests were moved out, back rest put in, and we were ready to go. The Boeing 777 had only two engines, which kind of bothered me, but we eventually did land OK.

The flight started out with wine and warm nuts. These nuts were almonds and macadamias, with a few pecans and cashews. For dinner I ordered the beef stroganoff. Dessert was cheese and port. After dinner, I put in my earplugs and went to sleep. For three hours. Then they were serving breakfast, which I eschewed.

The landing in Frankfurt was about 20 minutes early. We did not have boarding passes to Bologna, so we had to find a Lufthansa person to direct us. She said we could get boarding passes at the gate C-30. We had disembarked at gate C-8. On the way to our new gate, we had to pass through security!! I guess the airports are different in Germany and let non flyers in to the exit gates. They let us keep our shoes on, but they wanted everything out of our pockets. It took about five minutes to get redressed.

After getting the boarding passes, we spent a few minutes in the Business Lounge eating bananas and drinking a glass of water. The place was very busy.

The Business Class seating to Bologna was the regular 3-3 arrangement, but the middle seat was used to carry a tray. A snack was served consisting of a few apple pieces, a few other fruit pieces, two slices of lunch meat, and a small roll. I ate most of mine.

The flight was little over an hour, but it took some twenty minutes to get our bags. Yes, they had arrived, too. On the way out, I was chosen for another “random” security check. He wanted to know if I had any liquor or cigarettes. I said “No” and he let me pass.

I bought some Euros before we left the airport. With the exchange rate, the commission, and the fee, I received 52 euros for $100!

The cab we got was small, of course, but it was air conditioned! Our bags fit in the back, just. The drive to Bologna was direct, but after we got in the town we went in so many different directions that we were entirely lost. When we eventually pulled up in front of our hotel, the bill was 15.10 euros. Later we read that the normal rate was 20, so we once again got a good driver.

The Hotel Touring is on a very narrow, one-way street. Parking for motor bikes only is allowed on the other side of the street; there were a couple of large, rectangular garbage cans, too.

We arrived at 11 AM and, of course, our room was not ready. The clerk told us it would be an hour. We knew this was a lie, but we took the very tiny elevator up to the fifth floor to wait. The fifth floor was the roof top which overlooked a large part of the city. All of the roofs were tiled, all of the buildings were old. The sun was shining, which was nice, but it got hot quickly, especially since we were wearing long sleeved shirts and undershirts. Sitting in the shade was nice, especially with the occasional breeze.

At 12 we went back down to the lobby. This time we were told it would be 20 minutes before our room was ready. I sat down and dozed off. At 12:30 we were told our room was ready. We were given our very large key and directions on how to use it and the auxiliary key which turned on the electricity to the room. The elevator was off on a journey, so we decided to walk up the one flight to our room. When Sue finally got the door open and the lights on, she found only one bed.

So, we left our stuff in the room and went back to the lobby. Our papers said we ordered two beds, but one of them read “1 double,” which Sue had been told meant two beds. I expected that they would have no other room with two beds, and that we would be out on the street. The clerk seemed nonplussed and said we would have to talk to the woman. She was in a conversation with a customer for several minutes, then she was in the safe, then she was able to talk to us. To my amazement, there was another room available with two beds. Of course, it wouldn’t be ready for another half hour.

After finally getting into our room, we showered and slept for two hours. We got a map of the city from reception and took a walk to the downtown, which was very close. There were a lot of food shops near the Piazza Maggiore. The brochure said they closed on Thursday PM, but they were mostly open. Fish, vegetables, meat, and, surprisingly, no flies. I took photos of the food, which I always do.

Sue said she would rather eat now and asked me to pick a place. I picked Tamburini’s, a place recommended in the “1000 Places--” book. After going there, looking around and talking briefly with a clerk, she determined that there was little food left and that the buffet area was closing shortly. A couple of blocks away she found an outdoor café. Still no flies. There were two lines of half a dozen tables with a raised serving table. The table cloths were large red stripes on white; the chairs were plastic. The waiter spoke good English, although he said “You’re welcome” before we said “Thank you.” We had dinner of smoked salmon and some sliced luncheon meat. The luncheon meat was the kind with lots of white bits, ¾fat I assumed, although it might have been salt. It tasted good. I enjoyed two glasses of Chianti classico.

After getting back to our room, still without our passports that we had left with the clerk, I typed the above and went to sleep. I woke up briefly a few times but got back to sleep quickly.

May 21, 2009

I was up at six and showered. We read a bit and went to breakfast at 7:30. Over a dozen people were there already. They had lots of interesting food available: yogurt, pastries, boiled eggs, juice, coffee. No bacon or sausage. Several Japanese were present; they seem to be everywhere one travels. I thought of trying out some Japanese language, but I knew that wouldn’t go far.

After getting ourselves together we decided to take a walk around town following directions suggested by Breakaway Adventures. We’d gone about a block when Sue remembered that we were looking for more euros and that we were passing a bank. There was a guard outside that indicated it was a bank. I had Sue hold my camera while I went in. The two cashiers were busy, and there was a man ahead of me. When my turn came, I went up to the woman and asked “Can you change dollars to euros?” In her halting English, she said I had to go to the other cashier, who had the exchange rates. When he was free, I asked him “Can you change dollars to euros?” In Italian he said no and a lot more while waving his arms around. I got the impression that I had to go to another bank up the street on the right. Hmmm.

When I got back outside, Sue and I walked up the street a couple of blocks, turned right, and noticed an ATM machine and then a door next to it. It was a bank. I gave Sue my camera again, and went in. It was a much larger establishment with desks on the left and right. In the back of the large room were what looked like cashiers. They were both busy, so I waited. When I got up to a cashier, I asked “Can you change dollars to euros?” She said “No.” They did change money but only for their regular customers.

This was all very strange. Why was it so hard to get euros? We went back to the hotel to see if they could recommend some bank that would change money. Of course we could try using our credit cards and passwords, but we had cash with us. When I asked the hotel clerk, she had to check around with the various people there and finally suggested another bank that did more business with the local people, not just businesses. She said to be adamant about changing money, saying I had to get euros. As we were leaving the hotel, she said if they still wouldn’t change money to have them call the hotel.

A longer walk finally got us to the recommended bank. I gave Sue my camera to hold and went inside. Again, it was a big room with desks and rooms on the left and right, but the cashiers were straight ahead with numbers displayed in lights. There were people sitting around and only one person at each cashier. Hmm. I finally figured out that one had to get a piece of paper with a number on it to get waited on. I looked around trying to find the machine and found it when a man came off the street and used it. With my number 088, I sat down in an easy chair to await my turn.

When my number was called, I went to the cashier and asked, “Can you change dollars to euros?” She said, “No.” She said they did it for their customers, but not for people off the street. She suggested I go to the bus terminal and exchange money. I said I was staying at the Hotel Touring, that they had recommended my coming there, and that they should telephone the hotel. There was some discussion between two of the clerks. Eventually, how much money did I want to change? --they decided they could do it. She made it very clear, though, that it was a favor that they were treating me as a customer. During the process of the exchange, she said that I wasn’t such a regular customer and that they would charge me a commission. Even so, I came out ahead of a money changer. The rate was better and there was only one commission.

Wow. What a process. Now we could start our tour of the city.

Italian people smoke. They like clothes and shoes, some of which are really rather strange. They enjoy sitting outside eating and drinking, but there are very few fat people. The banks are not friendly. In the early afternoon many stores close for a couple of hours. Most of the people are friendly and many speak a little English.

We walked south toward the road that follows the original town walls around the city. I noticed no new buildings; they all looked as if they had been there a couple of hundred years. They were stone exterior or stucco. Streets are narrow, many one way.

The road circling the city was four lanes; cars and the common motor scooters were zipping along. Crossing over, we went into a large park, the Giardini Margherita, and sat by the water for a while, interesting some pigeons. Italian pigeons are very like American pigeons, except for the language, of course. A walk a bit farther into the park brought us to a restaurant. We had brought energy bars along for lunch, but we don’t often get a chance to buy a sandwich in Bologna. Each of us had a Beck’s, too. We sat outside overlooking the water, accompanied by pigeons and several tables of Italians. Across a narrow piece of water, a goose and a gander were walking and strutting around. They were penned in, and a family with a small dog came to the gate. The gander walked up to the other side of the gate and stuck his head out at the dog, who moved back.

Sue started talking about the Japan trip we are planning. She wants me to plan it. I complained that we were on another trip. She said that was all planned. I said I’d talk about it later. My stars!

After lunch we continued along the road that followed the city walls. It changed name every five blocks or so. Houses and buildings were on both sides of the road. Our goal was Piazza di Porta Saragozza, where a gate of the original wall still stands in excellent shape. Via Saragozza runs through the gate, but the opening in the gate is so small that only traffic in one way can pass at the same time. The gate is attractive, a bit over two stories high and made of stone.

We continued up to Via Ugo Bassi and to Piazza Maggiore, where a statue of Poseidon and several licentious women were frolicking in the water of a fountain. We walked down the street we walked yesterday, past all the food and cafes to two large towers. The taller one, the Torre degli Asinelli, is straight and is quite tall. The shorter one, the Garisenda tower, leans. It leans more than the one in Pisa. Italy must have a lot of soft soil. The large sign at the bottom of the towers said that at one time there were some 70 towers in Bologna, as defensive and offensive objects. They were built and owned by families around the 1400s.

After a good rest in our room, we were ready to have dinner about 6 PM. We stopped at the desk to see if they could recommend a nearby restaurant that served good tortellini. The clerk pointed one out on the map, and I asked if it was open now. He waved his hands in the air and said “No, no. They don’t serve until 7:30.” He said restaurants don’t open until 7:30 or 8 PM.

We were hungry, so we walked down to the Piazza Maggiore to see what we could find. One restaurant was putting table cloths out, and Sue asked when they served dinner. He said “20”, which I assumed was 8 PM. Further down the street we came upon a place that said they had someone in the kitchen all day. Sue asked, and they said we could get dinner now. We ordered a bottle of wine; Sue had ricotta ravioli, and I had pumpkin ravioli with bacon. Both dishes were quite good. I wanted cheese for dessert, but they didn’t have any.

We both had a good sleep and a good breakfast. After packing, we went for a short walk. At eleven, our ride appeared, although we had been told he would arrive at 12. It took an hour and a half to get to Palazzuolo sul Senio and our hotel Locanda Senio. The road was very twisty and dropped down to 1 ½ lanes in some spots. The scenery was attractive after we got off the major road. We were the only passengers; our driver didn’t speak much English and didn’t have the radio going, so it was a pleasantly quiet drive.

They showed us our room, with a queen bed and a single one. With the bureaus it was tight moving around the room. The bathroom was small (4 ft by 10?), with the shower in the middle of the room surrounded by a curtain. The window was open and had no screen. A bee came in later, but we ushered it out. We were shown around the hotel: the dining room, the lounge, the pool, the sauna, the Turkish bath, and the herb garden under a large, plastic tent. I then sat down with the map and hiking directions to read up on the walks for the first two days.

Dinner didn’t start until 7:30, but it wasn’t late. For hors d’oeuvres there were two small glasses of champagne, two pear halves decorated like mice, and four other interesting pieces. There were five courses and it took two hours to complete them. Another couple was staying at the hotel; we took them to be gay. Three of the other tables were occupied by locals. The dining tables were on the terrace, but we were not bothered by insects. Ercole, the owner, served us and explained each dish. His wife Roberta must have been doing the cooking. Among the courses were an excellent soup and a dish of ravioli in butter and cheese bits. The main course was pork; it must have been pork but it had no particular meat taste. Dessert was a custard, and I asked for coffee. I got Italian coffee, which was about two tablespoons of very strong stuff. Also we enjoyed half a bottle of wine, which we would finish the next day. The wine was extra, of course, 19 euros.

Sunday May 24

It seems that every time I want to sleep in, Sue is up early. Even so, I didn’t get out of bed until 6:30, when I tried out the new shower. It worked OK; the water didn’t come out so fast that the bathroom was under water. There was no place to put soap or shampoo, but one could reach out the curtain and use the wash basin. Breakfast wasn’t until 8, so I walked around outside a bit. It was a nice day, with birds busy and singing. No one seemed to be up in the hotel until five to eight.

At eight everything was about ready. Ercole showed me how to make Italian coffee, which appeared to be all they had. A twelve-foot table was full of choices. We had fruit, including fresh strawberries, bread and cheese, and a small pastry. A hot plate was available, and I fried an egg. I had forgotten to grease the surface, but after Sue poured some out, I was able to get it under the egg and then flip it. The yoke was dark orange.

After we finished dressing and slathered sun screen and insect repellent, we were ready for our first hike. The one lunch we ordered was too big. There was a two-liter bottle of water and two pieces of fruit which we didn’t need, so Ercole took them back.

We left at 9:30 and got back at 2:30. Flies and an occasional bee bothered us all day. They seemed unbothered by our bug repellant. The walk to the top of Mt. Prevaligo wasn’t bad; I usually have no trouble going up. Nowhere on the trail were there any benches or tables, so we ate our sandwiches sitting on the ground under a tree on Mt. Prevaligo. The peaches for dessert were excellent. Going back was downhill; it was very steep in many places, and the rocks on the path were awkward to walk on. Several ruined buildings were found on that portion of the walk. On the way out we came upon a bicyclist barreling down a hill, then another one came shooting by, and finally a fourth. Sue and I had no desire to be on bikes on that path, and they had our admiration. Later we saw two young men on small motorcycles zoom by.

When we got back to Palazzuolo we stopped and got a beer. That tasted very good. As we had approached the town, we could hear a loud speaker on a vehicle going around. It was on a truck; there were two trucks that were selling T-shirts and caps for a bike racing outfit. Lots of people were out on the street waiting for a bike race to come by. I waited about ten minutes and then went to the hotel. Sue stayed and saw the bikers race by, followed by their support cars and trucks. I took off my shoes and lay on the bed, resting my eyes for a couple of hours. It’s tough getting old!

We showered in the tiny shower and rested until 7:30. We were the only people in the hotel, so it took only an hour and a half to eat. Again there were six courses plus the aperitif. All were good, but the meat course, chicken, was nothing special. There was too much food for us, and we decided to ask for one less course the next night.

Monday May 25

Just Sue and I were at breakfast. I chose tea instead of coffee, fried another egg, enjoyed the fresh cantaloupe and strawberries. Lunch was the two cheese sandwiches we requested and peaches, which were quite fresh and tasty. Today’s walk was the longest on the schedule, but was not supposed to be as strenuous as the first day. It was entitled “A Walk Through Time” at 16.6 km and 5 ½ hours. If the path were smooth all the way and three feet wide, it wouldn’t be bad, but going up and down rock paths, trying to get through thickets of sharp stuff, and trying to wave off a dozen flies buzzing around and on the head makes it a bit more of a chore. It was a walk through time since we passed a half dozen or so ruined farms. They were not very interesting; the insides were full of junk and beams and piles of stone. The outsides were more attractive, and I photographed them.

A short time after starting we came to a point where we were told to go right. As happened several times on this walk, there were two roads going right. The seasoned walker knows intuitively which to take, but we were of two minds. I suggested we take the narrow, paved road, and Sue wanted to take the dirt road. Sue found a woman walking (we saw two people walking and three sitting on a porch this day) and asked her which was the way to Mantigno. She indicated the paved road.

The walk was gradually up; the sun was shinning; the birds were singing and flying about; flowers were in bloom. It was quite attractive. Every once in a while we would pass a building or two; we might hear some sounds, but we saw no one. The paved road turned into dirt; at one point it passed between a house and its barn. Several points were labeled on our map, Ortali and Cortine, but there were no signs anywhere and these points were just one or maybe two farms. Another fork in the road came up and we spent five minutes deciding on which to take. I figured the left fork just went to a farm down the way. We took the right fork and carried on.

A little bit after going by several nice looking buildings, we came to another junction in the road. The left went between two wooden posts and the left post had blue paint on it. The right fork went up hill. I suggested the left fork and Sue the right. She, as usual, was carrying the directions, so we went right. Ten minutes later Sue has rereading the directions and decided we had taken the wrong turn. We went back and turned into the other fork. After we had crossed the creek and climbed the opposite hill, we could see that we had passed Mantigno without knowing it. Mantigno had been the several nice looking buildings.

In a shady spot we ate lunch, accompanied by very busy ants and some flies. Our seats were some flattish rocks on the road side, but it wasn’t very comfortable.

Continuing on the dirt road we came to a large ruin of several buildings. It must have been a very successful farm at some time. The stone walls were still standing and it looked as if someone had recently put roof tiles on one of the buildings. Reconstruction of these ruins seems to be a slowly ongoing process. It is so slow that the decay is often faster. Passing through several fences we burrowed our way through a long bunch of bushes below another ruin.

Trees were overhead for the next portion of the hike. We passed some other ruins, Campertole and Frassineto; I assume these were the names of the farmers. Another fork in the path confused us for a while before we climbed a bare rocky portion of the hill. After reaching our maximum height of 830 meters, we and our flies started down hill. We successfully got past a house, after waving to the men on the porch, whose occupants apparently misguided hikers on occasion, sending them out of the way to a nearby town.

The rest of the walk is hazy. It was mostly downhill, past an occasional ruin. Downhill, downhill, downhill… Almost all the way down we passed a young man who was walking up. He looked a little bit like a young Brad Pitt with a black moustache carrying a bag. We wondered where he was going. Surprisingly enough, we eventually did reach Quadalto, rested a few minutes on a real bench, and walked along the road back to Palazzuolo. The only open store was the one we stopped at the day before, so we had another beer there.

We were pretty much used up and decided to take it easy the next day.

On the schedule for 5:30 was a mini cooking demonstration. Ercole took us down to the kitchen and put on an apron. He demonstrated a medieval dish made of pork sausage, orange, chestnuts, and vegetable broth. He fried these up and served them. Quite tasty. Upstairs, he had a demonstration of olive oil and wine, serving the two olive oils on bread with a red and a white wine. That was pleasant, and we had the rest of the red wine, a Chianti, with dinner.

Sue had asked that one of the courses be omitted—too much food. The soup dish was skipped. The veal was OK, but the rest of the dishes were quite good.

Breakfast was again solo, and we wandered through the choices. No egg today.

At eleven we finally left the hotel. When walking around the town the first day, we noticed a walk of only three hours, and we went back to that sign. It was route 50, and we saw only one marking on it. Sue started us off between a couple of houses and by a man sunbathing in his back yard about three feet away. I said “Bon journo,” and he replied. There was almost three feet between a fence and a dog yard, which had two or three loudly barking dogs. We passed through a gate by the end of the dog yard, and there were two options. Going up some old cement steps seemed to go only into a large grassy field, so we went down, which took us past a woman talking to the postman to the main road.

After some discussion, we decided to go along the road to the point where the route 50 ended and try to find our way back from the end. We passed two women with a noisy child. Wow, we had already seen more people than on the other two walks combined.

The path led up the same road we started on yesterday. When we came to the first road going off to the right, we took it, although we weren’t sure it was the correct road. It went up quite steeply and hair pinned. At the top was a house and a man was coming out of it to get into a car. I showed him the map to ask him if we were on the correct road. “Casetti” was printed on the map, and he indicated that this house was Casetti’s. I assume he was Casetti. I thanked him and we continued up the road. He drove past us.

A bench was at the top of a rise, and we decided to eat our candy bars for lunch. A well-kept shrine was just across the road. After “lunch” we walked down to the nearby house with the map and asked where the path was. They were quite friendly, waving us down to where they were going to eat lunch. Soup plates were already on the table under the trellis. The woman did not shave under her arms, which was a little disconcerting to me when she was pointing, but she was helpful. Another point on route 50 was Poggio Cherubino, and apparently the man who lived there was at the table. The patrone waved to us. The woman took us through the yard and showed us the road to follow, saying it went all the way to Poggio cherubino. Off we went. Sue figured that since the patrone was down here and didn’t look as if he had walked, he must have driven. So we stayed on the main road and occasionally looked for tire tracks. The road was steep, and we figured we would rather walk it than drive it.

Eventually, we lost the road! When we found a big, four foot bush growing between the tire tracks, the penny finally dropped. At that point, too, the road was so steep I almost had to use my hands to proceed. We decided to go back, especially since this was an easy day. Not far back we found the tire tracks where a vehicle had come in from the side. We decided to go back anyway. When we got down to the house, I waved to the Italians eating lunch as we went by.

Back in town, we shared a bigger beer and enjoyed it even though we had walked only two hours.

That evening was to be the fish dinner prepared by three chefs. What we didn’t know was that the town had been invited to attend at 30 euros each. At 7:30, I went down. Sue followed a few minutes later and was talking with Ercole when I came in from the pool area. Dinner was not at 7:30, it was “around” 8; this was said while waving his hands in the air. Sue and I walked into town and sat on a bench watching the people park their cars and shuffle slowly into the bar. Two men came by with a small boy in a stroller and went to the gelateria to get ice cream.

When we got back to the hotel about 8, still nothing was happening. This was not a complete surprise since the advertisement we had seen on the magazine kiosk said “20:30.” At a quarter past a few people arrived, and they kept arriving. About 40 of the locals showed up, some in jeans and tennis shoes, some nicely dressed, all speaking Italian. Sue and I sat down while the locals caught up on each other.

At 9 (gasp) the hors d’oeuvres were available, and we participated. A white wine was available. The most interesting dish was green olive stuffed with tuna fish and fried in a bread crumb coating. It was very good. There were, of course, other fish dishes. All of us then filed down to the dining level. The locals were seated at five long tables; Sue and I had our own table. The first course of the evening was served at 9:30 (double gasp).

A different wine was served with each course. The woman whose company probably donated the wine to the party came around to talk about the wine in good English; she, of course, also talked with the locals. We enjoyed all the wines, although I was not excited about the wine with dessert. We enjoyed the meal except for the late hour. Our dessert was finished at 11:30, and we went to bed, leaving the locals chatting away.

The next morning we slept in and got to breakfast about a quarter to nine. Ercole was there chatting with the three chefs who had stayed overnight. Fresh fruit, yogurt, bread, and cheese. And tea. Our walk was a short one to Cappella del Grillo (the shrine of the cricket), scheduled for a little over three hours. Sue and I, and I assume the flies, enjoyed the walk up. It was again sunny with an occasional breeze. Occasionally we could see Palazzuolo in the distance, nestled in the converging valleys. Part of the way was paved. At Cappella del Grillo, which is actually a very small shrine, indented in the front with some artificial flowers, we kept going downhill to Rocca San Michele. This is a farm ruin that at one time was being restored. There is some new roof, and there is roofing material in a couple of piles overgrown with weeds. A bit of scaffolding is outside and a larger bit inside. It overlooks valleys on two sides, where sheep and crops were visible. I took photographs and picked up some prickly weed seeds that kept bothering me all the way back.

The walk back was attractive, although parts of it were very steep. Lunch was at a bench under the hotel; I had a bar and Sue had an apple. It had clouded over and a few drops were coming down, so we walked back to the hotel. We whiled away the afternoon, reading and playing a few games: Sequence and Typo, a word card game. It rained off and on. At dinner time it was blowing and raining hard. I wondered if we would eat inside, but Ercole had us on the dining verandah. He did close the sides with the thick plastic sheets that were usually rolled up against the stanchions. The meal was a Medieval Meal, with the sausages we had made at the mini cooking class for the meat course. Two other couples showed up for dinner. The first couple whom we assumed were Italian were not, since Ercole was speaking English with them. Sue figured they might be Israeli. The other young couple were Italian. Ercole said the rain would go away tomorrow, but he wasn’t sure when, noon?

Thursday May 28

Two new coffee cakes showed up at breakfast. Both were good; one had apples on the top, and the other had a custard on the bottom.

The day seemed promising, so we arranged a ride to our start point. A rain coat went along, and I wore a T-shirt, long sleeves, and long pants. Luigi drove us to Villa Fantino, a house, in a half hour, and left us walking up the road at 9:30. The sun came out occasionally after an hour. I took off my T-shirt, but the walk was quite comfortable: cool and few flies. No body showed up on this hike, but we did see a fair amount of animals. A working farm was on this route, but they were not working when we went by. We spent a few minutes looking over another ruin, where horses obviously hung out. Hay was available, and several water troughs were full. Horse manure was everywhere. We spent some time at Lozzole, too. In the early 1900s it was a busy village, whose chief source of income was silk. The silk worms ate the mulberry trees in the area. There are only half a dozen houses and a large church standing now; the rest of the village was in houses scattered about the country side. The doors of the church were in very good condition; someone was taking care of it. A pickup truck was standing nearby, but we saw no person.

The walk went up and up till we reached the base of M Prevaligo. Not far from there, we started seeing horses. They were wary of us, but not frightened. A half dozen colts were in the herd and one burro. They numbered about 25, and all seemed in good physical shape. A little later, a fox dashed across our path. We were walking down a shaded path when I saw a large white dog lying at the side of the path. He wasn’t very sharp and did not notice us at first. When he did see us, he gave a couple of barks. A few soothing sentences got us by him OK. Sue figured he was a sheep guard. No sheep were visible, but there was a sheep bell dinging somewhere up the hill behind the trees.

When we were almost back, we took the wrong turn. Three large earth movers were at the top of the hill, and they may have moved or blocked the waymark. Or we could have overlooked it. It probably added 20 minutes to the walk. At 2:20 we were back at the hotel. Almost 5 hours for a “3hr 40min” walk.

At 6 Luigi drove us to see a local farm. Sue and I were expecting to see some pigs, small animals, and herbs. We did see some chickens and dogs, but Marco’s plan was to give us a history lesson. He lectured for an hour!! He had a heavy accent but could be understood. Marco started out talking about euros. The paper money is all the same throughout the Common Market countries, but the coins are designed by each country, although all countries will take any euro coin. He took us into an interesting room filled with armor. I remember only a little of what he told us. Pigs are associated with hills and sheep with planes! Barbarians were associated with hills and pigs, Romans with planes and sheep. He drew some conclusions from this, but I don’t remember what they were.

He said that in WWII, Churchill’s V for Victory sign with his fingers was really an old English custom of archers showing that they had won their wars and still had all their fingers. Defeated archers had those fingers amputated.

At dinner, the last night’s Italian couple were also there. They were staying in a suite across the “road.” The woman had a small white dog with her, which she put in her lap. It just sat there all during dinner. It was rather cool, so Ercole closed the sides of the dining area again.

Friday May 30

Breakfast was enjoyable. Sue had scrambled eggs with cheese on bread. She didn’t ask me if I wanted any. The two coffee cakes were still good, and I also had a slice of cheese on bread. As we were finishing, the young Italian couple came in with the dog. I said “Bon journo,” and they replied. I was curious how she would work the buffet breakfast with the dog, but we had to meet our ride.

Luigi picked us up at nine and drove us to Passo del Paretaio. There was a car parked there and three men were getting their hiking material ready (gasp). I said “Bon journo,” and they looked at each other and mumbled something. Not very friendly. They passed us about 20 minutes into the hike without saying anything. One fellow had two walking sticks, one had one walking stick, and one had none. We did not see them again.

Nearby was a memorial to about 250 Italian partisans whom the Germans had murdered in 1944. It was said to be in the middle of a field, but we did not find it.

It was a nice day. Lots of sunshine, but not as cool as the previous day. Trees were with us for most of the day, although we did climb down a rocky hillside. Several ruined farmhouses were on the route. Of course there were two or three problems with the directions, but we did not take a wrong turn.

The descent was difficult for me, as usual. It was steep and long. We got back around 1:30, making it about a four hour walk. We split a beer and went back to the hotel.

We packed just about everything before we ate. Sue and I were the only people at dinner, and we ate downstairs inside. The outside was cold. Everything was enjoyable, and we split a bottle of wine.

Breakfast was at 7:30. I settled up our bill; we were charged for the coffee on the first night and the bottle of water on the last. I was going to give 50 euros against the American Express charge, but forgot. Luigi showed up at 8:30 and drove us to the airport. A van needs some official OK to drive into the city, so we were left at the airport bus stop. Tickets were 5 euros each, and the bus left ten minutes after we arrived. It was rather full. A half hour’s ride got us to the train station, where we had to wait 2 hours for our train to Milan. The cost of using the WC was 0.60 euros. There was an hour’s wait in Milan; I bought a sandwich, which we split. The cars on the next leg were old fashioned cars with the aisle on one side of the car and rooms with six seats on the other side. WCs were at either end of the car and just emptied onto the tracks; you could look down the toilet and see the railroad ties passing by.

The second train took us to Brig, in Switzerland. At Brig we were able to change our euros to Swiss francs, which turned out to be enough for our stay. An hour’s wait got us on the train to Kandersteg, where it was raining. The directions said we would be met at the station by the hotel. No one was there; the offices were closed. There was a telephone and we had the number, but the telephone took only a phone card. So we were standing alone in the railway station with just another woman.

Sue asked her if she spoke English. She spoke excellent English, spoke a lot of English, had spent a year in California and Wisconsin 20 years ago, and thought her husband had a telephone card. When he showed up, the woman dialed the hotel, and Sue got someone to say they would pick us up. The couple, from Germany, had come to Switzerland to hike but were turned off by the weather and were going to drive home that night. They drove off, and we waited for our ride.

It was not a long wait and the ride took about five minutes. When told that we expected to be picked up at the station, he said they couldn’t meet all the trains in a rather irritated tone. We had received a printout of our trip two weeks before and assumed he had been notified, too. At any rate, we were finally picked up by Peter.

At the hotel, we left our bags by the desk while he gave us information about the area. He talked about half a dozen hikes, which sounded clear at the time, but when the time came to go on them, they kind of melted together. We were given a pass to get us a discount on local rides, and a voucher for free lunch on one day. I had a cup of hot tea while we went through this.

Peter took us up to our room 437 in the elevator. We had been on the first floor, “E.” It was a nice room with garrets, which proved to be a small problem, a king-sided bed, and a small bed. Also, there were a desk, a small table, and three chairs.

We put away our clothes and went down to dinner. They gave us a table with our room number sitting on it. The room was full with people eating and the waitresses hurrying about. They spoke English, so there was no problem communicating. There was a set menu that night; for future nights there were two menus that were signed up for after breakfast. There were four courses and no aperitif, as there had been in Italy. The food was good. It took an hour and a half to eat.

On the way up on the train, Sue’s right foot began to hurt. It hurt so much she was limping. She had no idea how it would feel the next day or if she would be able to walk. It was still raining after dinner, and we did not know what the weather would be the next day. So we went to bed not knowing what we would do the next day.

In the morning we showered, which was an interesting experience. There was no shower. The tub was in one end of the room and a shower head hung about 4 feet up in the middle of the tub; the roof sloped down toward one end of the tub. I washed my hair sitting on the edge of the tub and the rest of my body in various positions. Breakfast was a 7:45 and did not have the many choices that we had in Italy. The eggs were hard boiled but warm. There were several loaves of good bread, cheeses, marmalades, orange juice, and real coffee and tea.

The good news was that the weather had cleared up and Sue’s foot was much better. We decided to go walking.

One of the lifts up the mountain was working only today and tomorrow. Peter re-briefed us, and we walked to the train station. The bus was waiting at the station and our pass got us on free. After the train came in and the passengers taking the bus were on it, the driver took us to the cable car. I had not purchased a ticket at the hotel because they needed cash to pay the cable company; so I was going to buy our tickets at the cable car, but I forgot to bring my credit card. We paid cash.

When we got up to the cable car, it looked pretty full, and I wondered if we should wait for the next car, but the “conductor” waved us on. Then he waved another half dozen people on. Then he got on. I found later that the cable car ran every half hour. The car got to the top, the door opened, and we burst onto the platform at Sunnbüel.

There were a few white clouds in the sky; it was pleasantly cool. A great day. The walk we took went down rather steeply, took a long ramble across the rather flat part, then went up rather steeply. The grass was full of flowers in bloom; the mountains had snow. The Hotel Schwarenbach was closed as we expected, so we sat on a bench and ate our bars. Two young couples were sitting nearby eating salami sandwiches, which smelled very good. The path went on for a couple of hundred yards and then turned left up to Gemmipass. A large snow patch was visible on the path with hikers trying to navigate it. We figured we had gone far enough and started back. Clouds were building up, and it was fairly cloudy when we got back to Sunnbüel. After a visit to the WC, I went up to the gondola, which was just leaving.

When Sue came up, the gondola had left, and we went into the restaurant and had a beer, then took the next gondola down a half hour later. Originally we had planned to take the bus back, but it ran only every hour. Rather than wait 50 minutes, we walked back to the hotel. It was cloudy, and the sun came out briefly.

We sat at the same table and had the same waitress. Food was good.

In the morning, we “showered” and went down to breakfast. A couple who had been at breakfast at the same time yesterday was there. We talked a bit. They spoke very good English, of course, were from Holland, and were going home that day. Sue told them about Brian and Doortje. Bread, cheese, coffee, and freshly squeezed OJ was the main part of the meal.

We were down at the train station about 8:30 to get the train to Gopperstein. I told the clerk I wanted two returns to Gopperstein. He said, “Why? There’s nothing in Gopperstein.” Sue told him we were taking the bus to Blatten and walking back. This seemed to mollify him, and he gave us our tickets. I had remembered my credit cards this time. As we were waiting for the train, I noticed that the ticket mentioned Blatten and showed a bus. It wasn’t clear if this was just a possibility from Gopperstein, or if we had already paid for the bus trip. The thirteen minute trip from Kandersteg to Gopperstein is eleven minutes in a tunnel.

After we got off the train, we went over to the busses. Sue showed him our rail ticket, he stamped it, and we sat down! The bus driver talked to a good number of the passengers, but as the clock in the bus turned to 9:05, the bus pulled out. We drove up the valley through Kippel, Wiler, and into Blatten. We got off the bus with no idea where the hike started, although red lines showed on our map as a hiking trail. Sue asked one woman, who seemed to give good directions, then she asked another. Neither woman spoke good English, only fairly good English. The second woman was rather hyper and eager to help us. She sent us up one street, then called us back and sent us up another, talking all the time to Sue. The second direction she sent us in put us on the trail, and we were off.

It was another great day, with only a few clouds and cool temperatures. Initially we walked through trees with a dirt path and only a few rocks. No flies showed up. Snowy mountain tops were all around over the green hills. Behind us up the valley was a glacier, bright white in the sun. The path left the trees behind and continued down the valley. Occasionally there were climbs, some steep. Every once in a while a small cluster of abandoned houses appeared. They were all built up on rock foundations. Swiss houses have a peaked roof, but not a really sharp peak, and most are made of unpainted but probably varnished wood. The houses in this valley were of a darker wood.

In Blatten, there had been restaurants but no stores. The second woman Sue had talked with said there were no stores in Blatten. The only town that had one was Wiler. As we came up to Wiler, we crossed the river and walked into town, using the in-town road. The houses and vegetation were interesting, and we took several photos. The church, in session, had an attractive steeple—with a clock. Several locals were walking about. The day was a holiday, but we weren’t sure what the occasion was. The store was on the street with a large yellow sign reading “Pan.” It was a small store of two rooms. One room had lots of candy, and I bought a small box of lime yogurt in chocolate, which turned out to be quite good. By the cable car we sat on the steps and ate some of the chocolate.

After eating we retraced our steps through the town and across the river to the hiking trail. We soon found that we had taken the long way, since there was a bridge across the river near the town and one a short piece down the road. One I had not seen on the map, and the other I wasn’t sure where it was. We were in no hurry anyway.

More abandoned buildings came and went. There were some sharp climbs. The trail was wiped out at one point by a sheet of snow, probably an avalanche, but we walked across it and continued on. The day was still sunny and stayed that way until we left the valley. As we approached Gopperstein we were walking in the woods on a mountain side, very pleasant.

The trains back left every hour on the hour. The trail signs had been reading time as well as distance, and at the rate we were going, we figured to get to Gopperstein at the same time the train did; we decided to slow down, take more pictures, and get the next train. We walked into the town about 20 minutes after the hour, took all our stuff off, and ordered a beer at a restaurant across from the train station. Good beer, good hike.

We had noticed before train cars carrying automobiles. They were carried on a one-level flat car with a rounded roof, probably to protect the auto when it went through the tunnel. At first, I assumed they were new cars being shipped to point of sale, but as we sat drinking our beers, we noticed cars driving into town and trains carrying cars with people sitting in them into the tunnel. There was no road between Gopperstein and Kandersteg; the only way to go was by train.

Dinner was “something special.” Asparagus. There was a nice asparagus soup, and then we went up to a buffet set up to get dinner. Thinly sliced ham, fried fish, white and green asparagus, boiled potatoes, an asparagus sauce on biscuits, and free access to the salad bar, which normally cost 3.50 euros extra. It all tasted quite fine. There were only five tables of people that night, and we were able to determine the other two Headwater hiking couples, both British.

Tuesday June 2, 2009

After breakfast I asked the waitress for our lunch. Headwater gave us two free lunches, and I asked for one. The waitress and I went through it a couple of times, then she brought my lunch “basket.” It was in a small plastic bag and contained a sandwich, apple, orange, egg, dill pickle, a small cookie, and an apple drink, which we gave back. Sue cut the sandwich in half and put some pickle on it.

Today’s hike choice was the Oeschinensee, which is the name of a lake in the mountains higher than Kandersteg. There was no river running out of it, but a “spring” appeared down the mountainside let water out of the lake. It was partly cloudy, and the mountains appeared through a thin haze. We walked over to the cable car, paid our fare, and rode to the top. It had recently been a chair lift, but now there were small gondolas that held up to six people.

It was another enjoyable walk. Partway up we were passed by two women with two dogs. The trail went up almost 300 meters to Heuberg, a point over the lake that had two benches. A man passed us. For most of the walk a helicopter was carrying material up to an alpine building on the other side of the lake on a mountain peak in the clouds. After Heuberg, the trail climbed a bit more and went across the side of a mountain. Parts of the path were wet and muddy, where water fell on the path or small creeks crossed the path. Eventually the path came to Oberbärgli, a couple of buildings where food was available. It still wasn’t open and some deep snowdrifts still were around the place. Swift water was running but the bridge over it had only two metal I-beams, about 4 inches wide. The wooden bed was taken down for the winter and had not been replaced. We went upstream a bit and crossed there.

The path now went down toward the lake, and it went down almost vertically. There were two spots where metal cable was attached to the stone to help the hikers go down (or up). After getting down the worst of it, we stopped at Underbärgli, bought two beers and a packet of chips, and ate our sandwich with the beer. The two women with their dogs were there when we arrived but left soon after. A woman with her dog were running the spot; I don’t know how she got there or how she got her supplies there, since it was still quite a bit above the lake and no road was visible. The dog had a big dog mat at the end of the dining verandah and tended to bark at passing hikers (to bring them in?). While we were there, several hikers passed by on the way up, and we passed several more when we started down. Going down never seems as interesting as going up. Down we went, past two hotels and the lake and kids and people. Down, down a steep road, past the bottom of the cable car and back to the hotel.

The sausage for dinner was bland; mustard helped a bit.

3 June 2009

The hike for today was Allmenalp. The other lunch was ready today, so we had two eggs, two tomatoes, and a sandwich. We took the path by the river to the rail station, walked by, and followed the signs to the cable car going up to Undere Allme. The guy running the spot said they didn’t take credit cards, so I paid cash. A young man with a large backpack shared the ride up, which was rather steep. These gondolas were not new, and there were directions on the door on how to open it because there was no one at the top.

There was a restaurant by the cable car; Sue went in to say hello from Peter. The restaurant was run by a man who also made cheese. His cows would be up nearby in two weeks. It was another great day: some clouds, warmer weather, green grass, snowy mountains. The walk was mostly downhill. Kandersteg was visible way down the mountain at several spots. It was hazy toward the sun, so it was not a clear view. Also visible was the site of yesterday’s walk and the lake; this also was quite hazy.

The optional extension of the walk went uphill to Inner Üshene. We passed two other couples on the road. Before we got to the town, we stopped and had lunch on someone’s steps; the house was still not open for the summer. After lunch, we really walked down. It wasn’t too steep, but it was long, especially after walking down most of the day. When we got to the cable car to Sunnbüel, the local bus was sitting. After about 5 minutes, it took off with us in it. The bus went back to the train station and started to wait again. We went back to the hotel.

Dinner was some sort of classic gourmet feast. We were asked to be on time at 6:30. It wasn’t until 7 that we were served the first course, and the other courses came sloooowly. The food was good, but it was very slow arriving. It wasn’t until a quarter to nine that we were back in our room. In Italy, the flies were thick on the trails and almost totally absent at the meals. In Switzerland, it was just the opposite. A half dozen flies seemed to be assigned each table, and people were always waving them away. While walking, there were very few flies.

4 June 2009

Yesterday I got very tired of walking. We’d been walking ten of the last eleven days; the waterfalls, snow-capped mountains, fields of flowers, wonderful views were becoming banal. After a leisurely breakfast of the same stuff, cheese and great breads, we read and then played a game of Carcassonne Castle, which we usually take on a trip.

The day was cloudy and cooler. A bit before eleven we got our gear together to take the short walk to Blausee, 5 km down the river. We were passed by some 20 high school age kids on bicycles. The trail was downhill all the way to Blausee. Blausee is a small resort. It has a hotel with a restaurant, an average sized pond of clear blue water and trout, playgrounds for kids, a few boats for the pond, a small “museum,” and a few other items. The entry fee was 5 francs each. It didn’t take us long to view the views. We left and had lunch at the pizzeria outside. A pizza was not necessarily what we were looking for, but it was all they served.

The path back to the hotel was the same one, only it went uphill all the way. It was not steep, however.

Dinner was another looong process. The food was good when it finally arrived.

5 June 2009

The last day. We were ready to go home, but there was one more hike.

After breakfast with the flies, we walked to the train station and took the once-an-hour bus to the Sunnbuel cable car, which we walked past and up the trail next to the cascading river on our left. This was the trail to Selden. After 20-25 minutes we were on the road, which went through a tunnel. The sides of the tunnel were rugged rock and the road was gravel over stone. Very shortly the ground leveled out and was quite flat for a few miles. The Hotel Waldhaus was open for business, but we did not go in. It was another beautiful day. Very few clouds were in the sky. The mountains on each side of this valley were not snow covered, but lots of small but high waterfalls were spilling down the mountains. It got warm quickly, and I put on my polo shirt and put the long sleeved shirt in my bag. The path went past large fields of flowers and into woods with beams of sunlight on the ground. The Kander River was usually quite close with the sound of rushing water.

When the path got really steep, we stopped for lunch: a bar and an apple. We went a little farther, but not as far as the little hamlet of Selden. On the way back we passed a good number of people, two from our hotel. At the bottom again, we waited a half hour for the bus, rode it into town, and walked back to the hotel.

For dinner we had ordered pizza. Of course that came with three other courses!! The pizza was mushrooms and ham; they were not very flavorful, but the pizza was good. We had packed when we got back from the hike, so we went to bed and read.

6 June 2009

Rain! It turned out to be a rainy day, like the previous Saturday. Peter gave us and another hiking couple a ride to the train station; they were British, and we chatted some with them. At Spies we changed trains and got into Zurich about half past one. The rain had stopped, so we decided to walk to the hotel. Sue got directions from the Information booth, and we walked down the busy Bahnhofstrasse to the Seidenhof Hotel. For some reason, they had expected us the day before (!), but there was no problem.

It had started to rain again. We went up to room 315 and unpacked a few things. The rain had stopped, so we went out to see the area. Bahnhofstrasse has a lot of expensive clothing stores. Restaurants were on the side streets; we were looking for a fondue restaurant but didn’t find any. Bahnhofstrasse dead-ends at the lake. There were a lot of people on the streets, but we made it back to the hotel and asked the clerk for fondue restaurants; she got out a map and showed us two.

At dinner time, it was raining again, so we ate at the Asian restaurant the hotel had. We read some and went to bed early.

7 June 2009

Blue skies and some clouds.

Breakfast was ready at 6:30! We weren’t; got down about 7. A bigger selection than at Kandersteg: sausages (quite bland), scrambled eggs, cheese, bread, yogurt, fruit.

At nine we headed out for a suggested walk around town. After a little difficulty we found both fondue restaurants. Cafés were setting up for lunch. A few people were out. Swans were on the river. Interesting walk in the sun. All of the many clothing stores were closed on Sunday, as well as most of the other stores. At the hotel we arranged to be picked up by the bus to go to the airport the next morning. The cost was 15 francs each.

For lunch we went back to a restaurant where the local police band was playing. They were quite good, but the sausage was rather bland, even with mustard. The large, dark beer I chose turned out to be hard cider! Back in the hotel we read, played Sequence, watched some tennis, and packed.

For dinner we went out for fondue. The first place, the closest, was closed. The one across the river was open, although it was quite small. There were a couple of other tables occupied. The fondue was quite good; we ate the entire pot, but not the brown cheese spot on the bottom that the waitress offered us. She spoke excellent English.

In the morning we were moving our bags toward the door of the room when the phone rang. The bus was downstairs—twenty minutes early. The “bus” turned out to be a station wagon; there was a woman in it already from another hotel. It didn’t take long to get to the airport, and we were able to check in without waiting. The business class lounge was very nice: free food, wine, and beer, although we skipped the wine and beer before lunch.

On the airplane, the business class was very nice. Sue had gotten us seats in the middle, where there were only two seats and we were both on the aisle. Lots of leg room. The seats would stretch out almost flat if the passenger wanted to sleep.

The layover in Washington D.C. was several hours, which we spent in the business class lounge listening to people on their cell phones. Liquor cost money in the U.S. and the food was quite limited. Free coffee, however.

The United first-class seats to Albuquerque numbered eight, the same as our flight from Albuquerque. We were served the salads we wanted, but there was not enough food to go around, and some of the eight first-class passengers went without!

Our bags arrived, we got our car, and drove home in the dusk. As always, it is great to get home again.