plum blossom and rainbow bullet train on ANA Kyoto tour
After realizing that we had given away the blue suitcases and the red suitcases while, at the same time, we had broken the black suitcases, I ordered new silver suitcases on the web. Amazingly they arrived in time and were exactly what we needed. Nazy packed the first one and then decided to …
“…. change the combination, Dan. Can you help?”
“Of course, my dear,” I replied. “Since TSA can get in anyway, what’s the point?” I thought.
“Can you read the instructions?” Nazy asked.
“Of course not!” I replied. “The last time I could read print that small, I hadn’t learned to read,” I thought. “And they’re written in light yellow on a orange background — good grief!”
Nazy grabbed the instructions and told me to move the ‘adjustment key’ from point A to point B. I moved it (exactly as directed) and Nazy set a new combination. I latched the suitcase and discovered..
“… it won’t open, Nazy. I’ve tried both the old and the new combinations. It’s stuck.”
We called the emergency luggage help line: they explained that the ‘adjustment key’ had been in position B to begin with and our, well, my move of it to position A had caused the problem. Reminder to readers: I did exactly what Nazy told me to do.
Aware of my distress, the helpdesk offered to send a replacement. Since we were leaving the next day, I demurred. It seemed hopeless and then..
“We can take it to the Santa Barbara Airport tomorrow morning. TSA agents have a key and they can open it.” I proclaimed, boldly — and, amazingly, also accurately.
I knew everything would work out for the best because a rainbow had appeared directly over the house the day before.
In the excitement associated with the mad dash to the Santa Barbara airport, I forgot a business call that I had scheduled. I remembered — late. While I was talking with my colleague, I explained the luggage fiasco. She was understanding..
“… don’t worry, Dan. I did exactly the same thing before my trip to Europe. I didn’t think of going to the TSA, I cut my luggage open and bought a new set. These things happen.”
It was raining when we set out for LAX on the Santa Barbara Airbus, however the only traffic delays occurred while we were on the drive between terminals. Mitra, back from an excursion to Cancun, drove out to see us off (and enjoy a quick dinner.
Our business class trip to Australia was made possible by a gift of (several) zillion miles from Melika and Tom. The miles were on ANA which meant that the routing was, eh, somewhat indirect: Los Angeles to Tokyo to Sydney. (Total flight miles: 10,322.) We breezed through security and settled into the lounge before heading to the gate. Nazy was .
“ … amazed at how much nicer LAX looks now, Dan. I especially like the mood lighting they’ve put in place.”
“Mood lighting?” I asked.
“It’s not so bright and glaring.”
It turned out that it was dim because there had been a massive power failure and the entire concourse was running on an emergency generator that didn’t have enough ‘oomph’ to handle bright and glaring. The flight departed a little late, but they made up most of the time en route. It was fine with us — we both slept most of the way on a flat bed.
We had a rather lengthy layover: we were scheduled to arrive at 5:30 in the morning, connecting with a flight that left at 10:50 in the evening. We planned a quick excursion via the Shinkansen (bullet train) to Kyoto. (We had both seen Tokyo.) The day trip turned out to encompass more than 700 kilometers of travel. Luckily the bullet train is fast. We mastered the preparatory challenges: finding luggage storage, getting a subway ticket from the airport to Shinagawa Station, figuring out how the Shinkansen train system worked and finding a guide in Kyoto.
“My name Toma,” the guide said. “I learn English from American TV.”
“That’s the real thing,” I replied, assuming he had seen a lot of commercials on TV. “What should we see? And, by the way, that’s a great car you’ve got.”
“It’s the ultimate driving machine,” Toma-San replied.
“It’s a Toyota Crown,” I thought, “not a BMW.”
Our first stop was “National Treasure Sanjusangen-do”. This wooden temple, build around 1200 years ago, features Hindi gods refashioned as Buddhist deities. It has 1001 statues of Kanon, the goddess of mercy. It reminded me of the terra cotta soldiers in Xian — except that these were all covered in gold leaf.
From there, Toma-san took us to the Higashiyama shopping district right below Kiyomizu-dera Temple. It began raining, but young people were out in force — wearing kimonos …
“…. rented kimonos,” Toma-san claimed. “And they are all Chinese or Korean.”
“Be all that you can be,” I replied - flashing another TV saying.
We were never able to figure out why people were wearing rented kimonos or why there were so many young (college and high school) people touring the shrine. Communication might have been easier if Toma-san had watched Shogun on American TV. His English was, eh, …
“… better than your Japanese,” Nazy noted, accurately.
We took a lot of pictures and enjoyed the old town of this beautiful city. It was mostly spared from bombing during World War II and was specifically excluded from being a target of the Atomic Bomb because Secretary of War, Stimson, had honeymooned there and liked the city.
The rain got harder — but Toma-san wasn’t concerned. He had more stops and more ideas.
“Do you want to find a restaurant?” He asked. “I know a place that is finger lickin’ good.”
“Thanks, but we’re not hungry,” Nazy replied.
“Not when we would be paying you $50/hour to watch us eat.” I thought.
We also went to the Fushimi Inari Taisha which features a long series of gates … more than 1000 .. winding up the mountain. The entrance was guarded by a pair of giant fox, a motif that was repeated many places in the shrine. The gates attracted Nazy’s attention:
“Why are all of these gates orange?” She asked Toma-san.
“Orange is a color feared by the devil and ghosts.”
“Interesting,” Nazy replied.
“That’s funny,” I replied. “We have the opposite view in America. Agent Orange is the devil chasing ghosts,” I thought.
We took lots of photos and had a really great time. We also navigated the trip back to the airport with flawless skill.
The flight to Sydney was punctual and delightful. ANA business class is very good. Except..
“Wait a minute, Nazy,” I (almost shouted). “What happened to Wednesday?”
“Isn’t that today?” Nazy replied.
“No, today is Thursday.” I replied. “And yesterday was Tuesday,” I thought. “My Fitbit is going to be very confused.”
Upon reflection, I believe that it all has something to do with the International Date Line. More on our trip in the next edition of The Weekly Letter.
“…. change the combination, Dan. Can you help?”
“Of course, my dear,” I replied. “Since TSA can get in anyway, what’s the point?” I thought.
“Can you read the instructions?” Nazy asked.
“Of course not!” I replied. “The last time I could read print that small, I hadn’t learned to read,” I thought. “And they’re written in light yellow on a orange background — good grief!”
Nazy grabbed the instructions and told me to move the ‘adjustment key’ from point A to point B. I moved it (exactly as directed) and Nazy set a new combination. I latched the suitcase and discovered..
“… it won’t open, Nazy. I’ve tried both the old and the new combinations. It’s stuck.”
We called the emergency luggage help line: they explained that the ‘adjustment key’ had been in position B to begin with and our, well, my move of it to position A had caused the problem. Reminder to readers: I did exactly what Nazy told me to do.
Aware of my distress, the helpdesk offered to send a replacement. Since we were leaving the next day, I demurred. It seemed hopeless and then..
“We can take it to the Santa Barbara Airport tomorrow morning. TSA agents have a key and they can open it.” I proclaimed, boldly — and, amazingly, also accurately.
I knew everything would work out for the best because a rainbow had appeared directly over the house the day before.
In the excitement associated with the mad dash to the Santa Barbara airport, I forgot a business call that I had scheduled. I remembered — late. While I was talking with my colleague, I explained the luggage fiasco. She was understanding..
“… don’t worry, Dan. I did exactly the same thing before my trip to Europe. I didn’t think of going to the TSA, I cut my luggage open and bought a new set. These things happen.”
It was raining when we set out for LAX on the Santa Barbara Airbus, however the only traffic delays occurred while we were on the drive between terminals. Mitra, back from an excursion to Cancun, drove out to see us off (and enjoy a quick dinner.
Our business class trip to Australia was made possible by a gift of (several) zillion miles from Melika and Tom. The miles were on ANA which meant that the routing was, eh, somewhat indirect: Los Angeles to Tokyo to Sydney. (Total flight miles: 10,322.) We breezed through security and settled into the lounge before heading to the gate. Nazy was .
“ … amazed at how much nicer LAX looks now, Dan. I especially like the mood lighting they’ve put in place.”
“Mood lighting?” I asked.
“It’s not so bright and glaring.”
It turned out that it was dim because there had been a massive power failure and the entire concourse was running on an emergency generator that didn’t have enough ‘oomph’ to handle bright and glaring. The flight departed a little late, but they made up most of the time en route. It was fine with us — we both slept most of the way on a flat bed.
We had a rather lengthy layover: we were scheduled to arrive at 5:30 in the morning, connecting with a flight that left at 10:50 in the evening. We planned a quick excursion via the Shinkansen (bullet train) to Kyoto. (We had both seen Tokyo.) The day trip turned out to encompass more than 700 kilometers of travel. Luckily the bullet train is fast. We mastered the preparatory challenges: finding luggage storage, getting a subway ticket from the airport to Shinagawa Station, figuring out how the Shinkansen train system worked and finding a guide in Kyoto.
“My name Toma,” the guide said. “I learn English from American TV.”
“That’s the real thing,” I replied, assuming he had seen a lot of commercials on TV. “What should we see? And, by the way, that’s a great car you’ve got.”
“It’s the ultimate driving machine,” Toma-San replied.
“It’s a Toyota Crown,” I thought, “not a BMW.”
Our first stop was “National Treasure Sanjusangen-do”. This wooden temple, build around 1200 years ago, features Hindi gods refashioned as Buddhist deities. It has 1001 statues of Kanon, the goddess of mercy. It reminded me of the terra cotta soldiers in Xian — except that these were all covered in gold leaf.
From there, Toma-san took us to the Higashiyama shopping district right below Kiyomizu-dera Temple. It began raining, but young people were out in force — wearing kimonos …
“…. rented kimonos,” Toma-san claimed. “And they are all Chinese or Korean.”
“Be all that you can be,” I replied - flashing another TV saying.
We were never able to figure out why people were wearing rented kimonos or why there were so many young (college and high school) people touring the shrine. Communication might have been easier if Toma-san had watched Shogun on American TV. His English was, eh, …
“… better than your Japanese,” Nazy noted, accurately.
We took a lot of pictures and enjoyed the old town of this beautiful city. It was mostly spared from bombing during World War II and was specifically excluded from being a target of the Atomic Bomb because Secretary of War, Stimson, had honeymooned there and liked the city.
The rain got harder — but Toma-san wasn’t concerned. He had more stops and more ideas.
“Do you want to find a restaurant?” He asked. “I know a place that is finger lickin’ good.”
“Thanks, but we’re not hungry,” Nazy replied.
“Not when we would be paying you $50/hour to watch us eat.” I thought.
Kyoto, the capitol of Japan from 794 until 1868, is famed as an intellectual centre and for beautiful Cherry Trees. The Cherry bloom hadn’t started while we were there, but there were plum tree blossoms.
We also went to the Fushimi Inari Taisha which features a long series of gates … more than 1000 .. winding up the mountain. The entrance was guarded by a pair of giant fox, a motif that was repeated many places in the shrine. The gates attracted Nazy’s attention:
“Why are all of these gates orange?” She asked Toma-san.
“Orange is a color feared by the devil and ghosts.”
“Interesting,” Nazy replied.
“That’s funny,” I replied. “We have the opposite view in America. Agent Orange is the devil chasing ghosts,” I thought.
We took lots of photos and had a really great time. We also navigated the trip back to the airport with flawless skill.
The flight to Sydney was punctual and delightful. ANA business class is very good. Except..
“Wait a minute, Nazy,” I (almost shouted). “What happened to Wednesday?”
“Isn’t that today?” Nazy replied.
“No, today is Thursday.” I replied. “And yesterday was Tuesday,” I thought. “My Fitbit is going to be very confused.”
Upon reflection, I believe that it all has something to do with the International Date Line. More on our trip in the next edition of The Weekly Letter.
For last week's letter, please click here
More Kyoto
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