Quicky: some things never change. No matter where in the world I am, bugs will find and bite me. Lots.
Thursday 29th October
Today I got up early, had some breakfast and quickly checked out of the hoteru (hotel) in Himeji. A brisk walk back to the eki (station) was all that stood between me and the Shinkansen back to Ōsaka.
It still is a wonderful feeling to get on that densha (train) like it’s nothing more than a glorified chikatetsu (subway train) . xD
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Quicky: as I sit there on the sidewalk, just reading a bit and waiting to be able to check-in, an elderly man comes up to me and asks if I’m lost. When I say I’m not, he excuses himself but joins me anyway. I’m amused because I think he would like to practice his English skills, which are relatively good, I’m happy to say. A short but pleasant conversation later (about where I’m from, amongst other things), the man says goodbye and is on his way again.
Fun fact: he mentioned that he’s 62 years old and learned English in high school some 45 years ago. Well done, sir, well done.
Not so fun fact: the poor fellow got surgery just a couple of weeks ago for having cancer, intestinal cancer if I’m not mistaken.
Quicky: while in Ōsaka, I took a train from Fukushima eki (station) to Nishikujo eki. There I transferred to a non-JR line, so I had to buy a regular ticket. After transferring and getting off at Kujo eki, the gate wouldn’t let me through. The puzzled expression on my face, quickly drew the attention of an employee. He indicated that I had to pay ¥60 (about €0.48) more to complete the trip. Woops. Sometimes freedom comes cheaply. xD
Quicky: so, this morning I was sitting somewhere in Ōsaka, eating some more sushi, when an ambulance (bearing siren and lights) came by and tried to cross the intersection. To my amazement, it appeared as though no driver (of any automobile) tried to give way to the ambulance. Astonishing. I hope I registered that wrongly. And if not, I hope I won’t have a need for an ambulance while being over here.
Quicky: in the Netherlands, we have a silly joke: It’s yellow and when it gets into your eye, you’re dead. Guess what? Of course it’s a NS train (with them being yellow obviously).
Over here in Japan, I made up another joke: It’s white and if it doesn’t get into your eye, you will be dead. Guess what? Of course it’s a Shinkansen, passing by at 1 foot distance.
After getting on the right Shinkansen but before it departed, another one passed the eki (station) on the middle most track. It made the entire train tremble with me along with it.
If you though that regular intercity trains where no fun when passing you by, try a Shinkansen.
(And yes, I am totally calling this fun. W00t!)
Quicky: you leave a copy of your passport when you check out of your hoteru (hotel).
Quicky: so, I got out for breakfast in the hoteru (hotel) restaurant. Even before I was fully seated, the servant was already busy preparing my breakfast.
How I could tell she was busy with my breakfast specifically? Of course I was the only gaijin (foreigner) present and the only one (presumably) who ordered a western style breakfast. And that was exactly what she was preparing: a western style breakfast.
Combine this with the fact that when I got back to the hoteru last night, when the employee knew exactly which room key to give back to me, before I mentioned anything to him and you might see where me taking notice of these things came from.
Either the Japanese are very helpful, mindful and basically very good at what they do, or they’re being very presumptuous. I’m convinced it’s the former.
Wednesday 29th October
More walking.
This morning I had to check out a bit early, so I quickly gathered my stuff and walked to the basutei (bus stop) . Having ridden with the basu (bus) before, this time I confidently got on board, waited for arrival at Hiroshima eki (station), paid for the fare (while apparently somewhat amazing the driver) and got off. Off to the Shinkansen! Booyah!
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Quicky: when walking around town late in the evening, you know you left the touristy part when a random Japanese passing by on his bicycle asks you if you are rost.