Day
two. The morning jog gave the opportunity to run with a Japanese middle age man
who stayed in the same hotel as me (we bumped into each other at the front
door). He explained he was off to run in the park. I asked to follow as I
thought it was impossible to run in the park. In fact, we ran around the park,
on the pavement. That was a cute start for the day. After a quick visit at the magical
sanctuary of the Meiji era, the bullet train of the Tokaido line took me to
Kyoto. However, figuring out public
transport in Japan is challenging. It’s as if there was a taste for complexity.
Or at least a certain happiness in leaving it in its national idiosyncratic
way. The first night in a Ryokan healed the headaches of the ticket vending
machines. The room only contains a futon on the floor and there are no private showers,
only public bathroom in the form of a mini-onsen. The emptiness of the room pacifies the mind and facilitates
the sleep.
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