The ferry arrived in Osaka Bay as the sun rose, October 4, 2004. I awoke in a room with a dozen other people, some asleep, others waking up, and Ichiro's hitting streak (which he set the record for two days prior) on the television; it was 5:50am and I had slept three hours.

Having never been in Osaka Bay--only above and next to--and having packed lightly, I was up on the outside deck by 6:00. The wind had died down, the ferry's speed slowing, and the sun out for the first time since I had stepped on the ferry eleven hours and five-hundred kilometers earlier in Beppu.

It was my first time on a long distance ferry, and I cannot admit to having fully absorbed the experience. What had been originally planned as a three to four day visit to Oita prefecture to visit a friend turned into ten days; two changes of clothes, and no razor. Like I stated, I had packed light, and my energy and resources were getting thin. It was time to return to Tokyo.

I made it to Oita on one night's notice by flying. I purchased a ticket one hour before take off and made the flight just minutes before boarding. It set me back 30,000 Yen (about $270) but it also got me to Oita, a six-hundred mile journey, in less than two hours. It was with a sense of adventure and frugality that I took the long way back. The ferry having only cost me 7,400 Yen (about $65) had gotten me as far as Osaka, about half the way to Tokyo, but it had taken me six times the time as a plane would have to get only half way.

My last times in Osaka were quick ones; rides on the bullet train while going elsewhere. It had been nearly eight years since I had spent time walking the streets of Osaka. Now, with the sun rising and a whole day ahead of me (and surprisingly awake for only three hours of sleep) I had a chance. But I did not take it.

Twenty-five miles from Osaka is the city of Kyoto. Famous for being the old capital of Japan for twelve-hundred years; famous for its environmental treaty; famous for its temples; famous for not being bombed in World War II. Osaka is the Chicago of Japan; industrial, the second city, the other Tokyo. Kyoto is unclassifiable in comparison to other world cities. Kyoto is Kyoto. And so I spent one more time in Osaka riding through it while going elsewhere, and by 9:00am I was in Kyoto.

It was raining in Tokyo, but it was sunny in Kyoto that day. If the morning warmth was any indication, today was going to be a last hurrah for summer, and I feared I left my sunglasses in Oita.

Carrying only my red backpack with everything I traveled with in it, I exited the subway station not knowing where in Kyoto it had placed me. All I knew was that I rode it to the end and I better damn well be in Kyoto by now. But I was not disappointed; my first spotting upon exiting was the Hankyu department store. I was standing on Shijo-dori (Fourth Avenue), the Hankyu to my right, the river to my left. Probably the most popular part of downtown Kyoto and the one spot I knew better than any other.

One block north, following the river, in Sanjo-dori (Third Avenue). It was there a little less than four years ago that seventy of us from the International Division of Waseda University stayed in an inn with a view of the river. I headed in that direction for reasons I am not too proud of: there was a Starbucks there.

I have never been to a Starbucks in my hometown, but whenever I travel I find comfort in them. Even though I was in the mood to absorb the feel of Kyoto, my three hours of sleep were starting to affect my mind, and I decided this was the easiest way to sit down and wake up.

The Starbucks on Sanjo-dori is very nice. The view overlooks the river and the place is relatively spacious. And even though I performed decently in Japanese while ordering, I soon found out that the staff also knows English pretty well. In my 45 minutes I spent eating my scone, drinking my tea, and charging up my phone, I saw more customers that were obviously not Japanese than those that may have been. There were two blonds from Seattle who shared my socket I was using for my cell phone to charge their computer. There was a man with an American accent, seeing me use my computer, who asked if I could tap into the internet, which I could not. There were three tourists, as detected from attire and the combined looks of confusion, wonder and fatigue on their faces, who belonged to the school of better English communication by shouting at those who did not understand them. And a twenty-something blond guy with confident stride wearing a Kyoto University t-shirt. Remarkably the staff handled all of this like it was routine, because it probably is.

Issues of people visiting such places like Starbucks and McDonalds when they have traveled around the world to experience things different is a subject I will get to some other day, but at that time I was feeling uncomfortable; I was wasting time and culture in that Starbucks, so I left. It was 10:00am.

I walked Sanjo-dori down to where it becomes a covered shopping mall. I walked the mall while shops began to open. I was determined to not spend my day in Kyoto walking malls. I wanted to see something new. But I had seen most of the familiar tourist attractions in my four previous trips to Kyoto. I figured 10:00am was late enough, so I emailed the lovely Maiko in Tokyo on my cell phone to get her advice. Sure enough she responded in ten minutes with various places in Kyoto she liked that I may not have been to. I got lucky asking her, I did not know how well she knew Kyoto and it turned out she seemed to know much about Kyoto. But maybe too well. The one place she mentioned that I had never been to was also the one place I had never heard of. So I emailed her back asking where in Kyoto this place was. Her reply was apologetic: it was kind of far away and the reason she liked it was because it looks nice in the autumn foliage, which was a good month or two away.

But I appreciated the attempt. I honestly did not know how long I was going to spend in Kyoto, but I intended to sleep in Tokyo that night; and if I was going to take the bullet train home--which I was looking more inclined to do the more fatigued I became--that meant I had until about 8:30pm to get to Kyoto Station to catch the last train to make the three hour roll to Tokyo. It was plenty of time, and I was not in the mood to see all Kyoto had to offer. It was my first time in Kyoto in two and a half years and at a loss as to what to see, I decided to visit what I had already been to before. Why risk being disappointed spending all day looking for what might not exist, when what I needed right now was a visit to my favorites?


So it was back to Shijo-dori. I freshened up in the department store and got on a bus headed to Ginkaku-ji: The Silver Pavilion.