radhardened

Whereas Sunday in Ainokura had been drizzy-to-rainy, when I awoke Monday sunlight streamed in through the shōji. Breakfast was relatively simple: rice and nori, variously prepared mountain vegetables, miso soup. I packed up and headed out to the bus stop, pausing along the way to photograph the village in this more flattering light. The tourist buses hadn't started arriving yet, so I had the place nearly to myself. When a survey-taker spotted me, I obliged by responding to questions about what attracted me to Ainokura and various demographic questions. I was proud that I could get along in Japanese at least well enough to respond to basic survey questions, even if I'm far from fluent. With a complimentary packet of tea in hand, I strolled down to the bus stop... and my spirits sank as I realized I was late for the bus to Shirakawa-go. I waited around for a little while just in case that bus was late, but no luck.

I would be able to catch that bus later in the day, but I'd be forfeiting the reserved ticket I'd bought for the Nohi bus ride from Shirakawa-go to Takayama (required for that particular ride), and I wouldn't make it to Kyoto in time to meet up with my tour group at the appointed time. I decided I had to get to Shirakawa-go pronto.

I walked back up to Ainokura's welcome post and explained my situation to the man on duty, who helpfully called a taxi for me. The ride wasn't cheap, but I sucked it up, and I was impressed that the driver—a woman, and without white gloves!—knew the shortcuts necessary to get me to Shirakawa-go on time for my ticketed bus ride to Takayama, which was uneventful. At Takayama, I caught the Hida back to Nagoya. During that scenic ride, I turned on my cell phone again and this time it picked up a signal. I checked my e-mail and feed reader, trying to be judicious about data volume since T-mobile charges $.015/KB for international data roaming, which can add up if you're not more careful than I turned out to be.

I rode the shinkansen, smooth as ever, from Nagoya to Kyoto. At Kyoto Station I transferred to the local Karasuma Line. If I had remembered all the stairs I'd have to drag my luggage up and down in the local subway stations, I would have spent the few extra bucks to take a taxi instead. Note to Kyoto tourists, including my future self. :)

Finally I made it to the good ol' Palace Side Hotel, where I checked in. It was a relief to be in a familiar place, on schedule, and not need to move my luggage for a week. Down in the lobby, I met up with the group and we headed out for dinner at nearby Kurikuma. If memory serves, I ordered the curry udon just as I had two and a half years ago when I was there, but this time with tofu. It was a hearty, comforting meal finished off with a scoop of matcha ice cream that was entirely earned by my luggage-wrestling throughout the day.