5/25/14
Aboard Sakura 557, En route Shin Osaka-Hiroshima
My reader will not know what train Sakura 557 and how it affects the
schedule, so I can introduce the suspense.
After I closed, I took a taxi to Haafu, Kyoto’s premier restaurant,
renowned for the wagyu beef. I figured
that I would have time for a nice meal and still make the earlier train, which
would loosen up my schedule in Hiroshima.
Alternatively, I could have eaten at a relaxing pace, taken the later
train, and stuck to my original schedule.
I had choices. The driver never
heard of the restaurant, but I was prepared.
I had the map in Japanese of the surrounding area. That did not help. I then told him it was near the Imperial
Palace. He didn’t know what the Imperial
Palace was. I found a picture of
it. “Ah, Gosho. Kyoto Gosho.”
During the drive, I worked on combining my WIJG and Travelogue entries
to create a Day 2A entry. I had just
published it when he pulled up to the restaurant, 15 minutes before it was
open. Given that I was right next to the
Imperial Palace, the center of Japan for over a millennium, it would have been
a sin not to see it. Of course, my
timing and sense of direction was off, and I got back to the restaurant 10
minutes late, 10 minutes that I did not have.
The palace was another letdown.
Most of it was blocked off, and there was no real good views of anything
other than the walls.
On the other hand,
walking around, closing my eyes, I was able to picture being back in Imperial
Japan, samurai guards at the gates of the palace, and that made me happy. I knew that I was somewhere special, even if
I could not see anything. I ordered the
wagyu beef, which came with rice, noodles, and soup, along with a glass of
sake. I was on an extremely tight
schedule. The train to Shin-Osaka was at
12:18 PM, which meant I wanted to be at the station by 12:10 PM. I figured it would be a 10 minute drive to
the train station, so I should have the taxi come at noon. It was 11:50 AM, and they said that 10
minutes was not enough time. I asked how long before the meal would be out. They said
5 minutes. This is not Honduras. When they say 5 minutes, it is 5 minutes, not
4 minutes, not 6 minutes. I said that I
would eat my meal in 10 minutes.
I was
trying to play both sides of the fence here, and it was Whiskeytown all over
again. If I missed the train, it meant
that I should have just stayed to enjoy my meal. I scarfed down the food, and the beef was
absolutely delicious, everything that I had ever heard about wagyu beef. I had a few sips of soup and more rice and
noodles than I should have had. I
basically used the chopsticks as a spear to eat the slices of beef. I paid my bill and asked when the taxi would
be there? 3 minutes. I knew that 3 minutes meant 3 minutes, not 15
minutes, not 4 minutes. I looked at my
phone and saw that it was 19 minutes to the train station, which meant that I
would miss my train. I asked the driver
how long it would be to the station, but he had no English.
We must have made good time, since it was
12:16 PM when I got to the station. I
quickly paid him in exact change and made a run for it. My phone said it was Track 7, and I didn’t
even bother checking the boards. It was
very crowded, and I had to weave my way in and out of people, but, at 12:17 PM,
I figured all was lost and slowed down to a brisk walk. I knew there was no chance of the train being
late. But, wait, the train was still in
the station. I ran to the track, just
for it to start pulling away as I got to the platform.
I looked at my phone. 12:18 PM.
If I had ran the whole way, I would have made it. If I had went up the stairs instead of taking
the escalator, I would have made it. I
then checked my phone and had an idea. I
could take the Nozomi train and hope to feign ignorance when they said my rail
pass was no good on the Nozomi. There
was one at 12:29 PM, which would get to Hiroshima at 2:11 PM. That would give me plenty of time for both
sites there. However, the train was
packed, and I was really worried about being told to get off the train and
being stranded somewhere where I couldn’t get the regular bullet train.
We arrived at Shin Osaka at 12:44 PM, and I
knew that the original train I had been planning to take if I had made the
connection was at 12:59 PM. I would do
that. Not only would I not have to worry
about being kicked off the train, but I would also have more room and, more
importantly, an electrical outlet. It
worked perfectly, and I am now on schedule to arrive at Hiroshima at 2:26 PM,
which gives me 4.5 hours to visit the sites, over an hour at each site, maybe
even enough time for a proper dinner. My
computer is almost fully charged, and my phone is doing well.
Nara was always the sacrificial lamb, and it
looks like today will be a success, despite the disappointment of Kyoto. I had to shift around a bit in the car, since
the car had reserved seats, and the people kept claiming their seats. I finally found an empty row and sat down to
relax. The seats were so comfortable,
and I had two outlets. The conductor
than asked for my ticket. Obviously, I
didn’t have one. I knew that I didn’t
need one for the train, but I did to be in that car. I showed him my rail pass and told him where
I was going. He told me that Row 15 was
okay, so I moved. He thanked me for
moving and bowed to me, as if I was doing him a favor, rather than skirting the
rules. I let my electronics charge up a
bit, rubbed out some tobacco for my Ardor, the one that kind of looks like the
Guggenheim, perfectly suited for a train ride in Japan. Once the bowl was full, I moved to the
smoking compartment, lit up my pipe, and proceeded to write this entry, which I
will now close.
Hiroshima, Japan
That is a dateline that requires no explanation. Every image you can recall about the famed
run of the Enola Gay, none of it can do justice to the reality of being
here. As underwhelmed as I was by Kyoto,
I was even more overwhelmed by Hiroshima.
I am now sitting in front of what is simply known as the “A-Bomb
Dome.” Its official name is the
Hiroshima Peace Memorial, but that is a euphemism.
However, that was not my only goal here. The first stop was the Shinto shrine,
Itsukushima, an orange gateway floating in the water, only accessible by
ferry. I had read that the ferries were
fast and frequent, but that was an understatement. I made a very quick transfer to the local
metro, which took me to the ferry terminal, and I just missed the 3PM ferry,
but the next one was not far behind, only 10 minutes later, and the ferries
took 10 minutes, not 30 minutes as I had budgeted. I was on good time.
I started looking at my phone, and, at 3:16
PM, I wondered why we hadn’t started moving yet. I looked up, and I saw that we were halfway
there. The boat was so smooth that I
hadn’t felt it moving. I knew that the
inscription photo could only be taken from the boat, and I feared that I had
missed it, but the angle was actually coming right up. I don’t know why the Shinto shrine here moved
me more than the Buddhist shrine in Kyoto, and I certainly don’t think it was
an issue of aesthetics.
It was a
charming little island with food stands and souvenir shops and deer. Yes, reader, there were deer roaming the
streets in the same way pigeons do in New York
I had read about it, but I was not prepared for the reality of it
(though, the same can be said about the A-Bomb Dome). I got some grilled squid, which was awful,
and I could not find a single trash can on the island. I went to another vendor, but she didn’t know
what the word meant. I looked it up on
Google, and then she threw it out for me.
I lit up my Romeo y Julieta and walked around the beach, looking at the
shrine, taking some pictures. The shrine
is only accessible during low tide, but the view from the beach is
amazing. After I got my souvenirs, I had
some fried oysters, which were absolutely delicious. I somehow got lost on the way back, and I
asked the first Caucasian person I found for directions to the ferry. She smartly suggested that I follow the
coast, but I didn’t know how to get back to coast. We figured it out.
I was ahead of schedule, but I knew that I
would want the extra time at the dome rather than trying for a rushed meal,
especially since I had already eaten oyster, and the main local dish was very
carb heavy. I had figured out how to
take public transportation directly from the ferry, which was covered by my
rail pass, to the dome. I just had to
pay a small fee for the tram in the city.
30 minutes ahead of schedule, which meant that I would have had exactly
0 minutes here if I had not done my trick with the Nozomi. Now, I have an hour. I walked across the street to the dome.
As soon as I entered the Hiroshima Peace
Memorial and saw the famed dome, it hit me like an atomic bomb, pun very much
intended. I am not ashamed to admit that
I started crying. I walked around the
entire structure with my mouth wide open in abject horror. Since it was underneath the explosion, it had
partially survived, and you could see the structure of the concrete, but the
devastation was obvious. 70,000 people
died instantly with that blast and another 70,000 from the aftermath.
Here was an American walking around, tears
flowing from his eyes, while the locals were laughing and joking. To them, it was just the local park. To me, it was a reason to fly halfway around
the world and spend a day on a train.
When I walked in, I took out my Montecristo, but I could not bring myself to
light it. I needed to truly experience
this first. No pictures, no cigar, no
water bottle until I regained my composure.
I wondered if I should apologize to these Japanese locals, but I was not
sorry. I was merely saddened by the loss
of life. Japan started the war, and we
finished it. We were entirely justified
in the way we finished it, and we saved millions of lives by doing so. My father always said to never throw the
first punch but to always throw the last one, or something like that. We threw the last two punches here and at
Nagasaki.
I am a firm believer in the
Non-Aggression Principle, but that is not a synonym for pacifism. John Galt did not say that no man may use
force. He said that no man may initiate
the use of force, and that is a principle I hold dear. Whatever disagreements men have, they can
resolve it through reason and trade, not having to resort to force. When Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, it changed
everything. The only question is, did we
have the right to do something that killed so many civilians? I say that we did. They had 4 years to stop supporting the
Emperor. They chose not to. They chose to continue to support is war
efforts. Through that support, they
became viable targets. I am not ashamed
of our actions. In fact, I think Truman
is the greatest Democratic president of the 20th Century. It is just that it is gut-wrenching to see
such a real reminder of those losses of lives.
Once I got to the plaque, I recovered, lit my cigar, and took a picture. Other than the plaque picture and the
inscription picture, I did not take any other photos, since I know that I will
not need pictures to remember this site.
I sat down on a bench with the vista of the inscription photo and
proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can make my way
back to Tokyo.
Tokyo, Japan
I saw the Buddhist shrine, the Shinto shrine, and the A-bomb
site. I made it back to Tokyo without
having to slap on a new date. Even without
Nara and with the disappointments of Kyoto, today was a grand success. All that stands between me and declaring the
trip a grand success is setting foot in the Olympic Stadium. Everything else I want to do is easily doable
in a full day, but stadium is still a bit of an uncertainty. I shouldn’t have any trouble, since they have
tours set up, and there is a museum there.
I was thinking that, when I get back to the hotel tonight, it will take
me less than 2 minutes to pack, compared with the 2 hours I spent packing for
my weekend in Moscow. I have gotten more
and more efficient, both at packing and repacking. The journey from the A-bomb site to my
present location was unadventurous, consisting of a tram, 2 trains, a subway,
and a taxi. I was never pressed for
time, except the initial run to catch the tram.
I slept on the trains from Hiroshima to Tokyo. I was not sure if I would go back to my hotel
and call it a night or head out to the cigar bar. I realized that I could not make that
decision until I arrived at Tokyo Station.
I woke up a few minutes before we arrived, awake and refreshed and
decided to go to the cigar bar, a place called Cohiba Atmosphere. I had to find the subway station, and my rail
pass did not cover the nominal fee. I
was more annoyed about having to go through the process of buying the
ticket. I grabbed a taxi outside the
subway station and showed him my printout.
He did not know the place, but he entered the address into his GPS, and
we were soon there. I opted for a Havana
Club rum, a cheese plate, and a Punch cigar.
As soon as I took the cigar out, I knew it would be plugged, but I
really wanted it. I knew that the waiter
would not understand what plugged meant, and I thought that I could work out
the plug before I started smoking it. I
was right. Puffing on a Cuban, sipping
on great rum, and chewing on even better cheese, I was in heaven. After I finished the cheese, I proceed to
write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish and also upload
my photos.
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