big kurashiki
We had a relaxing morning on the island before heading back to Okayama via the minimal ferry terminal, a tiny passenger ferry and another dirty wee ramen shop, where Fred got a lesson in how to make gyoza from one of the two old biddies running the place. We made Kyoto on the Nozomi in no time and were beside some very rich kids doing their daily homework routine on the 200km ride to Osaka. Fred and I were going to get their trainers off them, or at least their dinner money, but alas the shinkansen was too fast. We arrived in Higashiyama, just south of Gion, in the dark but the lanes were lit with that glow of a hundred years ago.
Our place, just beside Kodaiji, was great and Mrs Uemura appeared to be as my mum and dad had left her except for increasingly dodgy knees and a brain about as reliable as a british plumbers watch. The streets were still busy and we soon realised that the illuminations up at the shrine (think fancy restaurant / not blackpool) were drawing in all the courting youngsters and high heels trying to navigate paths designed for sensible monk footwear of yesteryear.
we topped the evening off (pun intended) with okonomiyaki which we stumbled upon having passed several ramen shops on the main road. more beer and a high table suited the older knees in the group and soon we were back up the hill fast asleep.
