Kyo-train GARAKU

I’m publishing this post from my desk in San Diego, where I’m immersed in Re-Entry. I’ve been tempted to blow off writing anything more about Japan. Our time in Osaka was gratifying and fun, but maybe not so interesting to read about. We made a quick day trip to Nara, the ancient Japanese capital and a magnet for visitors who come to feed special crackers to the vast numbers of semi-wild deer.

Considered sacred, the animals seemed pretty chill.

Some of them dip their heads in what’s said to be a bow, when seeking snacks. I tried to use my puppy-raising skills to tune up some of their bowing skills.

Nara Park contains some fabulous creations, including Tōdaiji Temple, where the largest wooden building ever constructed…

…shelters one of the world’s largest statues of the Buddha.

Steve and I also briefly strolled the grounds of the mighty Osaka Castle. But mostly we concentrated on food in this city known as “the grocery store of Japan.” One morning we spent a couple hours roaming the area around Dotonbori Street, a vortex for delicious street food and outrageous building decoration.

I’m pretty sure people don’t eat dragons, but there’s nothing like them for catching the eye.

Octopuses are enormously popular, both on building facades and chopped up to be embedded in wonderful, creamy fried batter (takoyaki).

Everywhere we looked, we saw people lined up in the street; we despaired of getting a taste of any of it. But on a quiet byway we finally scored some marvelous takoyaki.

On that walk I also spotted a homeless person — the first I’ve ever seen in Japan.

He was sleeping on that bench overlooking the river.

That evening we joined an “Osaka food tour” that introduced us to more than a dozen local specialties.

Shinsekai is another famous Osaka food center, part Coney Island, part faux Paris.

Our fellow group members were a lively bunch.

We learned about the Billiken, which started out as St. Louis University’s mascot, but long ago became beloved in Japan, and today has achieved quasi-religious status: the Shinto “god of things as they ought to be.”

And of course we ate more takoyaki — as well as more than a dozen other delicious dishes.

I’ve been so bowled over by and enthusiastic about our experiences on this trip, I’m a little worried I may sound undiscriminating. So I decided I should chronicle at least one thing at which we found the Japanese to be mediocre: They don’t explain themselves well to foreigners.

Over and over, even in famous, important sites, we found a shocking dearth of signs or placards or other educational material in English (or any language other than Japanese.) To some extent, we could overcome this by using Google’s Translate app or Google Lens. We’ve never used either much before, but today they’re game-changers in a country where you can’t read. They liberated us to waltz into restaurants without worrying if an English menu would be available (as often as not, it wouldn’t be.) They helped us figure out air-conditioning controls and all manner of street warnings and how to work a coin-op washer/dryer.

But in situations where there’s a ton of information being conveyed, for example at the Kyoto Railway Museum, the language apps don’t work that well. They take time to do their translating, and they require good Internet. (Our T-Mobile service was often tooth-grindingly slow.)

Our experience at the railway museum was particularly disappointing. The facility is enormous, and everything in it is bright and shiny and beautiful.

Steve and I went to the railway museum because our respect for Japanese railway technology knows no bounds. The country’s urban train systems are a wonder of the world — a stunning profusion of companies and services, with most trains arriving on time to the minute. For longer trips, the Shinkansen bullet trains have changed the world since the first one went zooming down the rails (50 years ago this month.)

The museum houses newer versions of the bullet train…

…as well as older incarnations like this one.

Steve got to sit at the controls and pose as a train engineer.

We had hoped to learn the bullet trains’ story — to hear about the initial vision for high-speed rail; get insight into what the biggest challenges were and how they were solved. But almost none of the museum’s relevant signage was in English, and even the Japanese-language information seemed sketchy. I’ll probably forget our whole visit there within weeks.

I can’t say that about the actual train that carried us from Kyoto to Osaka last Sunday. It wasn’t a bullet train. I don’t even remember how I learned about it. (Maybe a one-line mention in some guide book I consulted?) The Kyo-train GARAKU, as it’s called, only operates on weekends and holidays. The one we caught (the first of four making the round-trip that day) wasn’t mobbed with tourists. Many of our fellow passengers were Japanese. We didn’t have to buy any special ticket. We just used our marvelous “IC” cards (which worked on every bus, train, and metro line we took throughout the country, except for the Shinkansens.)

The 45-minute one-way trip from Kyoto to Osaka cost 410 yen, just under $2.75 per person. It was the most beautiful train I’ve traveled on anywhere.

Here it is, pulling into Kyoto-Kawaramachi station.

Here’s the car Steve and I sat in. Every car was unique in its decor.

Some of the seating emulated traditional tatami (straw mats).

The train had not one but two gardens. This one included a little fountain.

This one had a Zen vibe, complete with raked sand.

Why did the Hankyu Railway (a private company) build this thing? Why do they charge so little for it? Why go to so much expense and effort to carry some passengers between Kyoto and Osaka (something Hankyu does routinely every day)?

As usual, there were no signs, no brochures answering any of my questions. We just had to enjoy it, in wonder.

At home and abroad

with Jeannette De Wyze

One thing the Japanese do not do well (imho)