Happy year of the cock!

Hello from Kyoto!

On New Year's Eve-eve it was decided to check out the Japanese take on Indian food (it turns out it was smaller and more efficient). I had a chick pea mishap and spent all night and the next day getting violently ill in the hotel room as well as various rest stops and a McDonald's. They had sushi at McDonald's, as well as a teriaki burger, which I'm told was pretty good. I just had the gingerale, since I think the proper etiquette after throwing up all over the bathroom is to at least buy something and that was all I could stomach.

The hotel we were staying in was pretty swanky - there was a big cask of sake in the lobby. When I emerged in the lobby looking and feeling like death warmed over, I think it was assumed by most that I'd dipped into the sake a bit early.

That night Andrew went out to dinner with his brother and parents and came back just at the stroke of midnight. We spent a romantic evening of me being in (what felt like) a coma and staring at the TV and him drinking a few beers from the vending machines and reading. Thus new year's eve was spent sleeping and watching a TV show involving various Japanese pop stars dressed in kimonos or rooster costumes. I think it was sort of like that Dick Clark New Year's Eve thing, only with more jumping onto velcro walls and sing-a-longs. Japanese TV is everything I expected and more. Imagine how much better they would be if I had any idea what they were saying. I'm sure the speed-fish throwing thing I saw would be an instant hit on American TV.

For New year's day we went to the Fushimi Shinto shrine outside of Kyoto. It's dedicated to Inari, the god of rice and sake. Everyone was out celebrating the year of the cock. There was rooster-themed stuff all over the place and tens of thousands of people buying it. Many young ladies wore their kimonos and, for some reason, marabou-feathered stoles with them. The ground was really muddy and the cuffs of my jeans got pretty dirty, but they had their wedge sandals and seemed to be able to pick their way delicately trough the mud without getting the kimono dirty. They seemed to be exempt from the "let's all push each other" free-for-all that was going on everywhere else. More specifically, if you are in the way of someone older than you, it is perfectly acceptable for them to push you out of the way. Since many of the elderly Japanese stand barely four feet tall, it's hard to see them coming.

We climbed the path to the many smaller shrines. The whole path was covered by thousands of Orange Torii gates. They all had melting snow on them and the result was breathtaking. The hour and a half climb around the mountain more so.

Later we went to Nijo castle, which had the most beautiful garden. Those old shoguns really liked their gardens. Even though it has two moats that are at least 20 feet wide, fires from the city have burned down parts of the castle twice.

Off to Nara. But first to lunch at Bikuri Donkei ("Surprized Donkey") - sort of like Denny's but with fish flakes on everything.