January 18
Beep. Beep. Beep. My incessant alarm woke me once again, causing me to roll out onto the hard tatami floor. Rapidly returning from my walks in dreamland, I quickly got ready for breakfast, once again in the traditional Japanese style. After breakfast, Mrs. Medlin convinced Mrs. Mizoguchi to walk across the bridge to visit a Starbucks that she had espied from the bus. Debra was still packing, but I decided to come along, figuring that a hot chocolate would be nice.
We went out into the crisp morning air, turning left out of hotel and walking past the karaoke place Debra and I had visited the other night. Buses filled to standing room only drove by and it seemed all of Kyoto was getting ready for work. We crossed the street at the bridge, musing upon how the Japanese always followed the lights. If the walking signal was green, then they would immediately start walking, sometimes without glancing to see if there was oncoming traffic. However, this trust of drivers was kept in that one never saw anyone walk when the walk signal was red -- unlike almost anywhere I had seen stateside.
In any case, we crossed once the walk signal turned green and walked along the ample sidewalk on the bridge, with me pausing to snap a photo of a crane – the bird – in the morning light. The world was just wakening, rising out of its slumber and facing a bright new day.
A short walk further brought us before the doors of that fine American establishment, Starbucks. To our shock and horror however, the doors leading to coffee and cocoa were closed. This particular Starbucks did not open until 8 o' clock in the morning; we were as yet some 15 minutes ahead of time.
Disappointed, but not despairing, we strolled about Kyoto a little longer, while I recounted the adventures with Karaoke the previous night, showing Mrs. Mizoguchi and Mrs. Medlin photos from my digital camera. We then turned about, walking back the way we came, hoping that the Starbucks might open 5 minutes early. I had yet to pack, to use the word's definition loosely. In reality, all I had to do was re-stuff my backpack to its prior great girth. As Mrs. Medlin sagely said, repacking usually is easier than packing, for one need not decide what to bring.
Delightfully, the Starbucks indeed did open 5 minutes early, allowing us to purchase our coffee and chocolate. I eyed the sandwiches and cookies, noting how everything was carefully and elegantly wrapped, either in a portable plastic pouch or in tastefully colored paper. We then wandered out, feeling rather American -- a Frank Sinatra CD had been on sale -- and re-crossed the bridge and street to the Iroha Inn. We then parted for a while, until we would meet again to leave Kyoto and I sprinted up the stairs (for some reason -- perhaps living on the 4th floor of my dorm without an elevator -- I usually took the stairs) to my room and packed, singing songs from karaoke the night before as I did so.
We all met again in the lobby, overstuffed luggage in tow, and proceeded to wait for a bus to take us the Shinkasen station and shopping center. As we were well before our scheduled departure time, we took some time out to shop. Before strolling through the aisles, however, we rented some storage space in these little lockers so that we would not have to carry around our bulky luggage. My immense backpack required one of the larger containers, but it fit -- barely.
We began shopping on one of the bottom floors, where I saw a legendary square watermelon carefully wrapped. I bought some green tea, after tasting some out of traditional Japanese cups. And of course, the tea was carefully wrapped and placed in a tasteful bag. Conversation ebbed and flowed as we wound our way through the aisles. We then went back to the lockers and retrieved our luggage, heading for the train depot.
There, masterfully guided by Mrs. Mizoguchi's navigation, we awaited the arrival of the Shinkasen, once again alternating between the warm glass boxes and the chill mid-morning air.
Debra and I wandered in search of something that might be considered edible, but everything sold seemed to be either seafood or a snack, leaving me with nothing to buy save four tangerines. We then returned to the warm glass box waiting area and then, when the train arrived, boarded.
This time I did not notice that we had begun moving until I noticed the scenery outside changing. We snacked lightly, with me consuming each of my tangerines in a single, juicy all-encompassing bite. We then talked a bit until a Japan Railway (JR) representative came back to our car and gave us brochures describing the bullet train, saying that we would soon tour the controls at the front of the train. We glanced through and read the brochures, from which I was amazed to learn that the average tardiness of the Shinkasen was a mere 0.6 minutes -- averaged over an entire year, including all delays -- even ones caused by earthquakes. If only the American airline industry could offer this sort of service, lamented Debra.
Finally, the JR representative returned, escorting us to the front of the train. It was a long walk and though the train was stable, at times during the banked curves we would have to lean this way or that to remain upright. Some of the sleeping passengers looked rather humorous as well. Once we reached the front of the train, we were given these bright orange armbands -- badges indicating that we were visiting with permission. I put mine on my arm, but Debra, as her arm was so slim and delicate that even the tightest setting was too large, promptly placed one on her leg. This prompted the JR representative to laugh, saying that she was perhaps the first visitor to have ever done so.
After some keycard scans and passage through some very narrow passageways (I could only go in sideways), we came to the front cabin. There, stuffed in rather tightly, we watched and listened as the various instruments of the Shinkasen were explained. The Shinkasen are truly great machines, running very cleanly and efficiently. Out of respect to residential areas, for example, the trains do not run from midnight to six am so that people can get their rest (as well as so that each train can be meticulously examined and kept in top condition). We snapped some photos and talked for a long while, complimenting the JR representatives on their comfortable, efficient mode of transportation. It is almost a shame that the United States does not have a similar network -- since the bullet train travels at about half the speed of a plane (but it can carry over twice as many passengers), a train ride from Boston to Michigan would take 5 hours. Currently, however, flying from MIT to home takes about 5 hours anyway, because there is no direct connection. One of the JR representatives mentioned that in France, the bullet trains leave every 30 minutes, whereas in Japan they leave every 5 minutes. And as both Debra and I had had some very un-fun airport delays, we both thought an American Shinkasen would simply be wonderful.
After the explanations and photos, we filed out of the cabin and removed our bright orange armbands (or legbands, as the case may be). We then walked back to our car, noticing that we were on a straighter section of track since we needed not to sway so much. Then, after a short conversation, both Debra and I fell asleep, perhaps lulled by the gentle sway of the train as it raced along at 270 km/h.
When I awoke, we were just pulling into Tokyo station. Debra was still sleeping, with her head pressed up against the Shinkasen window. I gently woke her and then the train pulled to a full stop. Together with Mrs. Mizoguchi and Mrs. Medlin, we grabbed our stuff and disembarked. As we walked through the terminal, headed to the JR Shinkasen Control Room, where we would be briefed about the Shinkasen, I managed to obtain a counterbalance for my hefty backpack -- namely, by taking Debra's pack from her and carrying it. At last, as I marched through the station, feeling rather dwarven with my heavy load, my "manly prowess" was ascertained. I also managed to grab Mrs. Mizoguchi's and Mrs. Medlin's bags at one point, thus carrying an immense load while laughing heartily all the while at my own silliness.
In any case, we soon took an elevator up and were before a JR company meeting room. Mrs. Medlin said, with her face quite earnest, that as we would be visiting the control facilities for the railway, we would have to shower and put on clean suits. Both Debra and I, alas, gullible souls, took her seriously and exchanged incredulous looks. She then laughed and dispelled the illusion.
We took off our luggage (or perhaps I should write that I took off our luggage) and selected slippers to wear. Each slipper had JR emblazoned upon its instep and I searched vainly for one my size, before a JR company representative laughed, half apologetically, that they were all the same size. I once again put my size 13 shoes into two slots, one for each shoe and walked into the conference room.
Therein we were briefed on the operations of the Shinkasen, shown their intricate schedule and computerized tracking and routing system, hearkening my thoughts back somewhat to my Greedy Random research project, the one that had taken me to Japan with Operation Cherry Blossom. We then looked at the main control room, rows upon rows of computer stations in front of a map. Happily, our guide informed us, today was a quiet day without any snow and thus JR could look its best. He said, quite honestly, that when problems or snow loomed, the control room would become a little less orderly as groups spun off to tackle each problem separately. With snow, for example, the issue was not so much the snow itself, which did not significantly impede the train (unless it was very deep -- which very rarely happened along JR Central's routes) but rather would build up along the bottom of the train. Then, when the train moved into a warmer climate, the snow would melt, dripping down hitting the small rocks and gravel that lined the tracks. A water droplet moving at a relative speed of 270 km/h can disturb a small stone quite a bit, typically sending it flying. This effect would the compound, with the stones triggering other stones, all flying around, potentially causing ruin to anything near the tracks and to the equipment on the underside of the trains. Thus, when there was snow on the tracks, the trains would have to run a tad slower, so as to prevent its build up. These slow downs, however, were included in the calculated 0.6 minute average tardiness that JR reported for its trains.
After once again complimenting the JR representatives on their amazing record of reliability, safety (there has never been a train-caused casualty since the start of operations in 1964) and outstanding service, we left the control room, filled with awe at how efficiency of the entire operation.
Once again grabbing our overstuffed luggage, we hailed a taxi and climbed in. I pulled the door closed, as I usually do when getting in a car, only to have it pop back open. Surprised, I pulled it closed again, only to have the driver laugh. In Japan, some taxis are equipped with automatically closing and opening doors, and the driver demonstrated this by popping the door open and then closing it. Impressed again, I sat back and relaxed, enjoying the drive back to the New Sanno hotel by looking out at the Tokyo streets and people. I think my innermost clock was still set on Eastern Time, for whenever I looked at the sky in the mid-afternoon and saw the sun and clouds, it somehow felt strange, as if I should expect to see clouds and moon instead. Still, my sleeping rhythms had adjusted fairly normally, thankfully.
We arrived at the New Sanno. We quickly checked in, this time receiving rooms so that half of us were on the seventh floor and half on the fifth. In any case, we lugged our stuff back to our new rooms and then took what we had stowed but three days before in Mrs. Medlin's room. We then proceeded to eat dinner, and Debra and I bought little "Internet time cards" that enabled us to use the Cybercafe in the basement.
This Cybercafe was nothing overly dramatic, just three computers in a row in a side room downstairs. Still, we checked e-mail and surfed a while. Then our 40 minutes were up and we went back upstairs and talked a while over the movie list, before finally deciding to rent Emperor's New Groove.
We watched the movie, which turned out to be very witty and funny and had us laughing all the way through. Then, we thought of going to workout, but alas, found that the weight room and exercise room closed at 9:00. So, we decided to simply go to sleep early. I found myself quite appreciative of a "normal" bed with pillows -- with no threat of rolling out onto a tatami floor. Soon, I was asleep, looking forward to the Bus Tour the next day (for which we had purchased tickets before dinner).