Nice, Very Nice

Posted on April 2, 2025 by Catherine

Sorry about the title, couldn’t resist.

We arrived in Nice by car and I missed the exit so we ended up driving a bit more through the city up in the fancy hills. So very pretty—everything looks like it came right out of a movie in the 1960s. Large buildings with wrought iron balconies that would be complete with a young beautiful blond woman in a flowing scarf leaning over and calling “Jacques, I’ll be right down” as she scoops up her miniature poodle and ducks inside.

We didn’t see any blonds with poodles but we have enjoyed the lovely scenery, fantastic food, and the mix of old and new. It is by far the largest city of our trip so far and though I’m still going to hold out for a little apartment in Villeneuve, this place ain’t at all bad. Best of all, it has a museum devoted to Henri Matisse, my favorite painter, which I sopped up. Fortunately for David he is also a fan so he also enjoyed it and tolerates my over-the-top delight.

**If he’d stuck with Impressionism he would have been grand!**

The museum is here because Matisse and his family donated many many drawings (so many of those that they are rotated into public view), paintings, sculpture, photographs, lithographs, paper cutouts. To watch his progression as an artist from his very early self portrait drawings to his impressionist paintings to his exploration of techniques to transform the flat canvas to a multi-dimensional experience to his abstract cutouts…wow. I wonder if I could convince David to go back before we leave Saturday morning.

We left fully satisfied and walked down the hill to the Chagall Musee. En route I of course got hungry for lunch and we ducked into the only restaurant we passed and had an overwhelming fun lunch. I asked for the “Hamburger au poulet frite”, otherwise known as a fried chicken sandwich, which came with the predictably yummy fries. David had the “Cesar salade avec poulet frite” which looked delicious and which he finished down to the last little piece of lettuce.

Of course we were a bit tired by the time we got to the Chagall museum. We’ve seen plenty of Chagall, and David said he was not that into him because “too many goats.” So we had a contest—first one to see a goat wins. I won—third painting. We wandered the collection which is displayed in airy, spacious rooms and enjoyed it enough but our eyes couldn’t absorb any more and we walked home.

Home is my aunt’s enormous and comfortable four bedroom apartment in the thick of the commercial area, super convenient to the tram, to a large and fantastic Monoprix department store—though all we can vouch for is the overwhelming grocery, boulangerie, prepared food section. Every morning I take croissant orders and am there a bit after 8am, selecting the same assortment (butter croissants for me and the two other friends of my aunt spending the week here; a GIANT pain chocolat for David, and the ‘round thing with raisins’ for my aunt). After three days of buying more or less the same things from the same somewhat dour woman, this morning I said “A demain!” (See you in the morning!) and got a big smile and “Oui! A demain!” I think she might be tired, not dour.

After the museum overload we took the tram, right outside the apartment, to Vieux Ville, the old city. It is not separated from the rest of the city—no wall or gate that we saw—but it reminded us of the old cities and towns we’ve visited thus far. A few touristy shops and restaurants, a crowded plaza outside the old Cathedrale, but the same delightful narrow back streets and assortment of enticing places to eat lunch. We ended up at Bistro Antoine and oh oh oh. When I commented to the woman at the next table (she’s from Cyprus) how delicious our lunch was she said well of course, it’s been recognized under some designation or other by Michelin. We left so happy and full, but managed to eat the three beignets we had picked up at the open market. I mean, you cannot let fresh baked goods go uneaten.

We walked along the waterfront a block or two and took the ascensuer (elevator) up to the top of the Colline de Chateau, walked around the chateau ruins, wandered the gardens (we wander a lot!), explored the Jewish cemetery, then walked back down super tired to the tram and hopped on. In a few minutes we were home.

**In this lovely hilltop garden is a memorial to those who saved Jews during WWII…”that their courageous acts will never be forgotten.”**

Beautiful Arles

Posted on April 1, 2025 by Catherine

We decided we could live happily in Villeneuve-Lez-Avignon. We have added Arles to this category.

We arrived very early, so early that many Moslem families were racing to the mosque for the end of Ramadan, we think. There is a very large Moslem population as a proportion, it is believed; France does not collect religious affiliation data. We wandered hoping to find something open on this brisk Sunday morning—coffee and croissant first thing have become our routine. We did, and then spent two hours wandering instead of the one hour we’d planned.

There are a few cool Roman vestiges, including an arena which, as in Nimes, is used for events, and what was called a theater but is now just bits and pieces in a pretty setting. Cool to see nonetheless. This is the town where Van Gogh spent a lot of time, and there are posters of his paintings in the places he painted. Not much has changed!

We walked and wandered, then it was back in the car for the drive to Nice. We knew we’d have to figure out the toll road situation and I was a bit apprehensive. Our recent trip to Chicago taught us that sometimes you have to have that darned transponder in the car to get through a toll gate. But here they took cash or card, and we sped along. Even though we were on the highways the drive is plenty picturesque and fast (130 km/hour in some places). We arrived early and met my aunt. We had a week in Nice staying with her in her spacious and beautiful apartment ahead.

We get a car and explore the environs

Posted on April 1, 2025 by Catherine

Late Thursday afternoon we took the bus to the TGV station to fetch our rental car. I had booked a EuropCar because none of the US companies had an option for English on the French site, nor did they allow a return to a different city. Our plan was to rent in Avignon, tour around outside the city, then return the car in Nice. EuropCar was perfect, had lower rates, and the young man who handled the rental was a pleasure.

It was well after 3 so we drove directly to Pont du Gard. This is one mammoth aqueduct, built in the first century CE and in use until the fourth century. If you want to be amazed by this engineering feat go to Wikipedia or watch a film on YouTube. It ran for 31 miles, weaving around hills and adjusting the slope over the course of the run as needed. At the last section the slope was incredibly shallow. The concept and execution, not to mention the guts, to embark on such a crazy project is unimaginable. It turned out we were very lucky to go in late afternoon when the shadow of the mammoth structure was visible on the downstream river. We walked across and back, trying to imagine the now gone third set of arches which were taken down in order to use the stone for buildings nearby.

Uzes and Nimes

Saturday we drove to Uzes and Nikes. Uzes is a very small, and sadly getting smaller (now around 8500) town whose market day we wanted to enjoy, so that was our first stop. Less than 45 minutes away and so friendly, we had a lot of fun. First on the list was coffee and a croissant and walking down the main street only 10 yards or so brought us to Le Vieux Cafe. It was chilly and windy, yet there were 10 or so customers sitting outside. Let me take a moment to say that the French sit outside to drink and eat in weather that is way, way too cold for us Americans, and there’s not a gas heater anywhere. In we went and within a few minutes a man swings by, “Bonjour madame, bonjour monsieur, voulez vous un boisson” and 60 seconds later we had our café crème and croissants. Delicious.

We took the first side street and were enveloped by the market. The wind was fierce (gusts up to 48mph) and it felt quite cold but the crowd and the bustle of the weekly market kept us moving and somewhat warm. That wind. Every now and then an umbrella fell over, branches were falling, and the trees in bloom were shedding seeds that were everywhere on everything. And it was fun. We decided to put together enough food for an evening meal because I insisted every day that we take advantage of the custom of a big lunch—and the lunch specials that every restaurant offers and we planned to do a lot that day—I could already imagine not wanting to budge once we got back to the hotel (I was right about that). And, I confess, it is just fun to buy things at an outdoor market where everyone is in a market mood, I have a lot of questions I can ask in my rudimentary French, and who can resist the cheeses, the breads, the olives…

Le Vieux Cafe, so old and filled with stuff that appears to have been there for a few generations.

We decided to head to Nimes and assume we’d get there within normal lunch hours. We’d walked pretty much the entire town of Uzes anyway. Off we set, excited to see more Roman ruins—an arena, a temple, and a tower—and experience a different town. Well, wow, very different. We were surprised that Nimes was so big, much bigger than Avignon, at least the part within the city walls that we had gotten to know, and it made Uzes seem like a closet. We drove through this city, with wide streets and confusing directions, searching for a place to park that would be near at least one of the sites. Happily there is an underground parking garage adjacent to the arena/coliseum. We came up to the very big plaza to see the wind whipping water from a large fountain across the plaza in a cloud. We let the wind push us to the Office de Tourisme where we confirmed that the three things we wanted to see were within walking distance. “Mais, oui.” Off we set, but first, lunch.

The plaza the tourist office woman sent us to is clearly a tourist place—a small square ringed with restaurants, lots of outdoor seating, not too crowded but many people eating and talking. We were a bit dismayed, having avoided these settings as much as possible but too hungry to venture further. We entered one that advertised a gratin brandade (baked salt cod, usually with potatoes). We’d been so lucky regarding restaurants and feared our streak would end. Nope. It was still very windy so we went inside, and small tables close together were pretty packed. We sat and immediately the great table service we have found everywhere was here too. I made a comment to the woman at the next table in French—it was perhaps two feet from us—and she asked if I spoke English. The couple was traveling in their camper from Stuttgart on to Italy and we had a typical friendly conversation. David ordered what her husband was having (linguine with a baked Camembert that he stirred into the pasta, with a side of a small charcuterie) and I got the gratin brandade. Everything was delicious.

The brandade. So good. Potatoes covered with bubbling eggy salt cod.

The arena here is used for events. They are repairing the clay surface.

Back we drove to Avignon, very very glad we had bought a supper at the market. We dragged ourselves to the room, scarfed down the baguette, cheese, and olives, and packed. We left Avignon the next morning and drove to Arles on our way to Nice.

Skip this if you’re not a museum person

Posted on March 30, 2025 by Catherine

We love museums. History and art are our favorites, and everywhere we go we spend hours in museums. Really. They are restful, mind-expanding, educational, and for us just plain fun.

I will now tell you about the museums of Avignon and tomorrow will add a bit about Villeneuve-Lez-Avignon. There are some great ones.

Our first day in Avignon we stopped at the Office de Tourisme and discovered there are four free museums—we visited three of them that first day. David and I are into Roman history and we had several day trips we had planned to see Roman ruins. And here we find out that there is a museum of Roman artifacts, Lapidaire Musee, a few doors from the Office de Tourisme. And free! We headed right over there and wow, what a lovely experience if you like Roman stuff.

A single soaring room filled, without feeling crowded, with all these amazing items that were excavated in Avignon, most in the mid 1800s. Best of all as you can see nothing is behind a barrier (except glassware and little ceramics) so you can walk right up and see things close. There was another couple in there with us and I said offhand to the woman “Incroyable, oui?” She nods yes and asks me if I am Spanish—doubtless due to my lousy accent. I say I do speak Spanish thinking that is what she speaks. She asks me where in Spain I am from. I say California, and ask her if SHE is from Spain. No, they are from France. Then we have a mish mash conversation, a melange of French and Spanish. We smile and laugh, then I hear her explaining to her husband what THAT was all about. Needless to say through this first week my French has come more easily and my accent has improved tremendously.

Anyway, get a load of this Roman mosaic. So beautiful.

Next we headed uphill to the Palais de Papes and across the plaza to the Musee Petit Palais. This is a relatively small museum, free, with an extensive collection of medieval paintings, virtually all religious as that’s what artists were expected to paint. The docents were wonderful (yes, I had questions) and were able to follow my French to my delight. But the best part for me was the ground floor exhibit that detailed what the profession of painter entailed in the Middle Ages. The artist who led an atelier with many apprentices was not just an artist and painter. He had to be a project manager, a teacher, a bit of a chemist—mixing colors was an art in itself in addition to a science—and a salesman. Of course! But I had never thought about it and led me to think differently about what art was all about in those days.

Finally, although we were warned it was boring we went inside the Palais de Papes. It is enormous..and we loved it. When you check in you get a tablet that, when aimed at a stand in each room, shows the room as historians believe it looked like in the day. Very cool, and surprising how walls, beams and ceilings were painted as well as the array of furniture. The tablet had loads of information about each room, how it was used, in some cases what it meant. When you get to the chambre de pape (the pope’s bedroom) the uncovered and restored tiles that cover the floor are breathtaking—and they let you walk on them! So neat. We failed to take any pictures inside so you’ll have to visit yourself. It is definitely NOT boring.

We arrive and explore Avignon

Posted on March 28, 2025 by Catherine

This medieval city, with its circling wall, lovely walking streets, and hospitable people grabbed us from the first morning as we set out for coffee. We had arrived late Tuesday after about 24 hours of travel, easily settled into Hotel Cloitre Saint Louis, and after a quick, delicious, albeit Italian, dinner we fell into the very comfy bed and slept 10 hours. Wednesday we quickly found a sweet little coffee and pastry place, Le Saint Chocolat, and enjoyed our breakfast of croissants and coffee so much we came back every morning this week.

Let‘s be clear, the food here is spectacular. It can’t be that a glass of champagne (for me) and a beer (for David) makes that much of a difference! Our first lunch, at unsung Petit Grand, was delectable. Our supper of soup and tartines (open faced sandwiches) perfect and in a little place right out of a French movie. The lunch in Avignon Villeneuve (across the Rhône), where we sat outside in the little square and talked travel and politics with the folks sitting at the next table—the man so happy to have a chance to speak English and sigh about the turn of events in the US (“This sure isn’t the America of 1945 that saved us from the Nazis, is it?”), and the food scrumptious. Lunch today might have topped them all, but that might also be that for me speaking French is beginning to flow and it made the food—the creamiest of carrot soups and baked goat cheese with honey for David, pate en croute and beef tartare for me—even better. Yeah, great eating that is frankly superior to typical American food in a tourist-y city, ooh la la is all I can say and yes, they say that here.

Yesterday we stopped in the Office de Tourisme to ask about getting a bus to Villeneuve-Lez-Avignon, the “new town” across the Rhône, and the very cordial young woman told us to get off at the Office de Tourisme there and noted that it was market day. We did, and there was the market, right across from the bus stop. Now, we consider the Grand Lake farmers market in Oakland to be pretty darned good, but this one put it to shame. Just watching the French talk, laugh, buy (and everyone seems to reuse containers—glass jars handed over to be filled with olives, bags to be filled with bread, little containers to be filled with humus), and laugh and talk some more was enough entertainment. Drooling over the produce—and the seeming endless array of olives, too—was fun and it made us hungry for lunch. There was even a stand that squeezed fresh juice on the spot.

Though I could have gone straight to a restaurant David was more rational and suggested we head to the castle that we could see from the market.

This small town overflows with history and we marched through a lot of it in the one day we had. The gradual climb to the castle was lovely.

When we got there we thought about whether to buy a ticket but went to the billeteria to see what the deal was. We were quickly convinced to buy 2 twenty euro multi-site tickets and started with the “abbey” and its gardens. Alas, the website for this amazing place is really awful and the information about the restoration in the early twentieth century is buried. The fascinating parts to us are the purchase by a lovely painter, Gustave Fayet, a woman for whom he bought the abbey, Elsa Koenerle, who made it her lifelong work to restore the abbey and especially the gardens with her lifelong “close friend” who lived with them, Genia Lioubow. The gardens are gorgeous, even in their very early spring state. We wandered for at least an hour before walking back down to the square for lunch.

The abbey ground floor where they all lived is now a gallery of Fayet’s painting and drawings. They are lovely. I include here only one, a portrait of his wife and baby.

The next post will cover a few of the museums in Avignon and Villeneuve-Lez-Avignon. After several long days I am heading to bed.

Odds and Ends: Peaceful Temples, Bakeries, Philosophers Path, Bar Food, Handmade Paper

Posted on April 29, 2024 by Catherine

Mysterious Snack

What do you suppose this is, and why? A Twinkie with a banana inside? There were ads for them all over the train stations.

Horyu-ji

David found two temples, Horyu-ji near Nara and Kozan-ji in Kyoto, that were off the beaten path. I am so glad he did.

We had planned on visiting Nara, a city about an hour by train from Kyoto, though we had been there on our first trip when it was excruciatingly hot and humid. At the very least we wanted to find the okonomiyaki place for lunch, and perhaps visit a few sites we had missed on that hot day. First, though, David suggested we change trains in Nara and visit an enormous temple complex where the oldest wooden buildings in the world are located.

Here we had another of those strange Google map snafus. It told us to change to a different train line and go a few stops to this little town. Well, the walking directions to the other train station were ridiculously confusing and kept changing (the Google map starts spinning and rerouting you over and over until you have no idea where you are) so we stopped at the tourist information office across from the JR (primary) station…where the very nice woman explained that it made more sense to return to the JR station, get on another JR train and take it to the temple town. Fortunately for David’s mental health we were on a JR pass, so exiting and returning to the same station cost us nothing. And why Google suggested this strange transfer–and then refused to tell us how to do it–was a mystery.

So we did as the nice woman suggested and in a few short stops were getting off the train and looking for the city bus stop. Which was, of course, right where it should be and a few minutes later we were walking up to the temple complex.

It was enormous. You buy a three-part ticket and as you move through the complex each ticket part is collected. Incredibly peaceful and seemed to go on forever, including a relatively new museum built by the government (of course–we couldn’t build such train stations and museums if we had a lifetime, alas) to house some extremely important, old, and rare statues and artworks. After several hours we returned to the bus stop, walking down a shady pedestrian boulevard, and were back in Nara in a flash. And tired out–ate our okonomiyaki (see post about noodles) and returned to Kyoto on the fast, clean, peaceful JR train.

Kozan-ji

We had eaten in, shopped, wandered, and explored Kyoto for a week and were unsure how to spend our last day in the city before heading to Kanazawa. Kozan-ji temple was an hour on a city bus to the outskirts, it appeared, of the city. Now, taking an hour long bus ride sounds boring and maybe even miserable, but in Kyoto it was quite nice. Through the middle of the city, past downtown, climbing through green neighborhoods, and suddenly we were in mountains. We got off the bus and felt like we were back in California–big trees, a rushing river. A very short walk back a-ways and up a stone path took us into the Koran-ji temple grounds.

It’s difficult to describe how quiet and picturesque it is. A few lingering cherry blossoms added bits of white to the views. The stonework, dead quiet gardens, and very small temples were the opposite of Horyu-ji–no school groups, no massive buildings, no wide plazas. We spent an hour or so taking it all in, walked down the stone path and across the road, and within ten minutes were back on a bus to Kyoto proper.

Kyoto Bakeries

I love a great croissant, especially in Portugal. Or Kyoto. I love good, strong, fresh coffee. Together? The perfect vacation breakfast.

We had visited Ogawa Coffee, in the Kyoto Station underground, many times but when we went looking for it our first morning in town we couldn’t find it. Happily we did find an even better option and went every morning of the week we were in town–Grandir Kyoto Porta Store, marked with a big sign reading “Boulangerie Patisserie.” (A second option, which was en route to the Kyoto Handicraft Center, we also loved–Le Bac a Sable. Amazing cafe au lait and, again, French pastry to die for.)

Great things about Grandir: the cool cash collection system (drop coins onto a conveyer belt thingy and watch them sort and tally), the array of pastry options (thank you again Google translate for the ability to read what the more mysterious items were) and the delicious coffee (free refills) that you get from the machine next to the cashier. Beans are ground to order, coffee is among the best I’ve ever had, and the extremely rich cream…well, it’s all yummy. Take, you know, that one Porta (underground shops) staircase down, it’s right there. Free wifi, too.

Philosphers Path

This well-known walk in Kyoto, even when lots of tourists are in the area, is well worth the short bus ride to its beginning. During cherry blossom/sakura season it’s so much more and even though we had walked it on a prior visit we had to return. There’s not much more to say. Don’t miss it if you are in town.

My Artist Sister’s Request

When asked what she wanted as a gift from Japan my ridiculously talented artist sister had one desire–handmade paper. Okay! I asked cousin Harumi for her recommendation Kyoto and she said she did have a favorite place but wasn’t able to find it on a previous visit. Google maps to the rescue–there it was, Kajimi Kakimoto, not a long walk from downtown.

I had no clue what I was looking for and had neglected to ask my sister what her intentions were for the paper. Fortunately the young man working there was so helpful; unfortunately the inventory is enormous. But after his guidance I was able to select several kinds, and two big colored sheets that had to go into a tube, and we left satisfied. That tube was a source of anxiety the rest of the trip because it was “too long” for carry-on and Zipair is extremely fussy about dimensions and weights of checked and carry-on luggage. Happily, when we checked in for our return, after several conferences and a second visit, by the young man at check in, to the place where travelers can measure bags, and a quick consultation with a supervisor, it was judged ‘okay.’

A fun discovery after our purchase was that according to the map even though we were quite a way north of the train station it was a straight shot down the same narrow street all the way to our hotel. As we got within a few blocks of the Dormy Inn David and I looked at each other. Wait a minute–isn’t that the Family Mart (konbini) we went to when we were looking for that terrific izakaya (bar with food) on our last visit? When we couldn’t find the bar anywhere and finally snuck down a dark hallway off a parking space, tentatively slid open the shoji screen, and discovered a hopping bar scene? Yes, it was! Yup, we had to go back!

Bar Food

Kurakura, a place I had found randomly on Trip Advisor last time we were in Kyoto, was and is a fantastic izakaya a 5 minute walk from our hotel. We couldn’t have been happier we found it again–I had no record of the name and only a vague memory of how we found it.

In we went, to be asked if we had a reservation. Reservation? Uh, no. Five minutes later we were seated at the bar–where we wanted to be. The place was hopping for a midweek night. We ordered a large sake and ran down the familiar menu and ordered five or six dishes. Sake was a local Kyoto brand, cold and dry. Food was mostly fried and delicious. We made short work of all of it and left happy and full.

36 Hours’ Worth of Kanazawa

Posted on April 21, 2024 by Catherine

A Less Than Encouraging Start

We checked into the Dormy Inn—our fourth—a short block from beautiful Kanazawa Station. The enormous entry, with huge sculptures representing traditional drums, is spectacular, the gardens and sitting areas peaceful. This Dormy Inn was probably the nicest with our larger room and an outdoor pool in the 14th floor onsen. Kanazawa, our last stop before returning to Tokyo, was a bit off the tourist track and we weren’t sure what we would do there. I did know if my ceramics shopping was still enticing me after Tamba and Kyoto i could finish it there, but had no clear plan where to go other than the two stores I had found weeks ago. I wanted to get one checked off and picked the one furthest out. We got on a bus after lunch (more about lunch later) using our mostly-accurate google maps app.

Oh, the buses of Kanazawa. As one helpful man told us, Kanazawa has only begun to attract tourists in the last few years, and the mishmash of streets combined with the most confusing bus system we have ever encountered made “hopping a bus” nothing like our week of tourist-friendly Kyoto. The signage on the stops is messy and seemingly contradictory (a loop bus that starts and ends at Kanazawa Station had, on one loop bus stop sign, a small notice in the middle of the text that “this bus does not go to Kanazawa Station”, just an example among many). Some blocks have, within 15 yards, two or three bus stops, each for a different set of buses. The buses have a lighted grid sign at the front next to the driver, each numbered block with a different price which we never did figure out. Unlike Kyoto, only the next upcoming stop is shown in English, forcing us to pay attention to each and every stop. And, the helpful man told us apologetically, “In the morning and evening the buses are reliable, but during the day…” He shrugged. Lastly, Google maps repeatedly lost us, or told us, when we were at a numbered stop, that we were not at that stop and had to walk 3 minutes to another street (helpful man said he had no idea but to stay put because if we caught that same numbered bus in a different spot it would not take us where we wanted to go.). It was frustrating and made us feel unwelcome. Oh and they do NOT accept Suica cards, the cards we have used in every city for transportation, konbinis, pretty much anything.

Bus footnote to the day—when returning to the hotel late in the afternoon we were delighted to see a JR bus coming. We have a JR Arch (a regional) pass, which we used our last days in Kyoto on several JR buses and of course was our method to get the Shinkansen to Kanazawa and back to Tokyo. Several times on that JR Kanazawa bus the PA announced if you had a JR pass to show it on exiting. So when we got to our stop we confidently walked up and flashed our pass. Gruff driver says “no good” no matter what we pointed to on the pass. “No, no,” he insists. We knew now we had to dig out cash, so I asked “How much?” The driver shoved my arm in disgust and waved us off the bus. Yeah, love the Kanazawa bus system.

We did find the outlying ceramics shop. It was in an old, semi-rundown neighborhood. About half the items in the very small showroom were out of stock so would have to be mailed at a future date and the prices were out of our range. We trudged to the stop/bus station where we found the helpful man, and after he and the agent had at least four conversations over the next twenty minutes about what we should do and how to get there, “there” being one of the largest and most revered tourist sites, suddenly a bus appeared and helpful man ran over to tell us “This one!” and we gratefully climbed aboard. Google maps on David’s phone told us to get off at one stop; on my phone it said a different stop. But it turned out fine, and we entered THE MOST BEAUTIFUL GARDEN in Japan.

Kenroku-en Garden

Wow. Wow. This garden was initially laid out in the 1620’s, but its current configuration was finished in 1822. It sits on a high point, almost a bluff, next to the castle ruins and it is spectacular. The sun was out, it was cool and a little breezy, and we began to like this city after all. We have been to many many gardens in many countries, and this wins hands down. While it has the feel of a typical small-scale Japanese garden, it is enormous, filled with enormous, meticulously pruned trees. Many are supported by one, ten, twenty crossed timbers, having been encouraged into bonsai-shapes of almost horizontal branches. We watched several gardeners removing, literally, needle by needle. We wandered and strolled, took pictures and enjoyed the other tourists, rested on benches, took a tour of a “villa” built in the 1800’s filled with cases of miniature household (a wealthy one) items that represented what a girl of the family would be bringing as a dowry. After a few hours we collapsed and after typical confusion about where the bus stop was we got on that ill-fated JR bus with the grumpy driver.

The Samurai House District

I stayed up late searching for ceramics stores and found four clustered in what is now known as the Samurai House District. After breakfast we took the bus down and started a-strolling. Peaceful, lovely, with historic houses, historic gardens, and amazing ceramics shopping. I thought I had been finished in Kyoto, but, alas, I needed one more fix and what a fantastic place to get it. After repeatedly vowing to buy only gifts, I caved at the last store and bought a few little things for myself. Everything is packed within an inch of its life, bubble wrap and boxes and paper and all. Thank goodness we pack light because Zipair is rigid about sizes and weights. I think we’ll be fine. I think.

Lunching at Ochimo Market Twice in Two Days

When we first arrived after a train ride of two hours we were hungry and Ochimo market was maybe a 20 minute walk up a main street. Kanazawa is known for seafood. Let’s go!

Unlike most similar markets, this one is designed for people to stand and eat at the fresh seafood stalls. Counters with condiments and small tables abound (no chairs). The seafood is peak fresh and delicious, the atmosphere happy and helpful. The first day we went into one of the myriad tiny sit down restaurants, all of which seem to serve the same things for the same prices. I had a mixed seafood over rice bowl, David had the minced tuna over rice bowl. David held his phone up to the specials blackboard and Google helpfully translated. Fried oysters? Yes please, oysters are a specialty of the city. Have I ever had better? Nope. I don’t believe it is possible for better to exist. Had fried oysters the second night at an izakaya around the corner from our hotel, and though a bit smaller they were just as good.

Of course we went back on Saturday. This time we wandered the stalls watching people eat. Raw Oysters. Raw fish. Sea urchin. After we ate our sushi and crab we stopped to watch a young couple from Australia eating wagyu beef cooked on a little ceramic stove on the counter in front of them. We asked how it worked, watching the preparation and thinking maybe we weren’t so full after all. You select a piece from the counter; they slice it, fire up your little burner, lay out the salt and garlic chips, and you eat. Yes, worth every penny and every melting bite eaten with flaky salt and garlic chips.

**Every kind of jarred condiments…from a green onion sauce to some with uni (sea urchin), something I cannot imagine in a jar.**

21st Century Museum of Art

This amazing celebration of modern art was damaged in the December 2023 earthquake and the interior has yet to reopen fully. It sits in a large park filled with families on the Saturday we visited. Whispering tubes, climbing structures, cool-o places to sit, a large multi-colored glass box, reflective sculptures and wide lawns surround the circular glass building. Because only the exterior ring inside the building is open there is no admission fee—there is only one “gallery” with a single kinetic mobile is open. It was oddly entertaining—though all windows, the soundproofing is total and from the perimeter inside families carousing and couples strolling outside seemed like an immersive, silent movie.

There are plenty of museums around the park and castle ruins area, but we had neither time nor energy. We finished the day drinking and conversing and sharing pictures of our dogs via translation apps on our respective phones, with a young couple at the neighboring table in an izakaya around the corner from the hotel. They were from Tokyo and delighted we had been and were returning to their city. We returned to the Dormy Inn, had a last bath in the outside onsen where the moon shone and the wind blew, and fell into bed. On to Tokyo, last stop before home.

A Few Snaps of Breakfast at the Kanazawa Dormy

Kid friendly dishes, a strange local food combo, and my bowl of Kanazawa curry, appropriately garnished with pickles, roasted sweet potato, and shredded cabbage (surprisingly good).

Noodles

Posted on April 17, 2024 by Catherine

Soba, udon, ramen…yup, love them all and have had them all in Kyoto. The experiences were so different consider this post a compare and contrast.

Cold Somen on a Hot Day

One afternoon wandering from one tiny, wrong ceramics place to another we (I) misjudged the length of the final walk and also misjudged the weather. It was hot. Not hot hot hot, and not at all humid, but the final segment was along a busy street and when we finished not finding anything we wanted to buy I was hungry. I was craving cold somen and David agreed and quickly found a place within a few blocks.

It was Sunday, mid afternoon, but there was a queue. Fortunately we could sit on a bench inside and while it looked like quite a wait from the number of parties waiting, it was the end of the lunch rush and all of a sudden everyone was sent up the stairs where the majority of the tables were and we were seated.

This nondescript-from-the-busy-street place made their own noodles (see pictures). David and I ordered different lunch sets and the food came within five minutes. Pickles, rice (mine with a few tempura and a drizzle of sauce underneath), noodles (my set had two kinds, one with grated daikon, one with just green onions and wasabi). A little pot with noodle dipping sauce. And near the end of the meal a large pot of noodle water appeared for us to add to any remaining sauce to make a finishing soup. Need I add it was delicious?

Arashiyama Udon

We had visited this lovely part of Kyoto twice in the past so this time we purchased tickets on the 7 km, 25 minute Romantic Train. You take a regular JR train past Arashiyama, walk 10 minutes through countryside from the JR station to the Romantic Train station, and board for the trip back into Arashiyama. The train trip was fun and funny. The conductor talked, solely in Japanese, the entire way, and a large percentage of riders had no idea what he was saying judging from the Chinese, German, English, etc. passengers. We all enjoyed it when he broke into a Don Ho song in a truly lovely voice. The trip itself followed the river unlike the JR train that sped along a much straighter path. We had chosen seats in the open car (no windows) so felt the 15 degree of so drop in temperature as we entered each of the many tunnels.

After such a grueling journey I was hungry again, so we walked through the bamboo forest and into the tourist area. We weren’t sure what to eat (decisions, decisions) but on google saw an udon place more or less directly in front of where we were standing with comments about the long lines. No line! Ten tables, pretty much all Japanese with a few entertaining families (we miss Poppy!) and excellent food.

Again, large lunch sets. I ordered the udon with duck. Both sets came with a scoop of tofu in a bit of dashi and grated ginger on top, enormous bowls of udon, a bowl of what seemed to be fried rice—it was rice mixed with enoki (?) mushrooms and other things. Yummy. We plowed through the servings and left more than satisfied.

Communal Ramen

Except for our stay in the Tamba ryokan we have booked into Dormy Inns. They all have onsens, so lovely after a day of touring, huge buffet breakfasts (eggs seven ways!) and ramen from 9:30 to 11:00 each night. The ramen was a life saver the night we got to Tokyo, and last night after the late okonomyaki lunch in Nara it was all we needed for sustenance. The hotels supply top and pants sets to wear to the onsen, and, as posted, are appropriate to wear anywhere in the hotel. It is so casual and comfy to see many of us wearing the same beige PJs in the lobby, the breakfast room, the elevators, and for nighttime ramen. We loved it.

Not Noodles: Okonomiyaki Stop in Nara

We were truly tired after a long trek around the Horyu-ji Temple complex—a quick train ride from Nara and where the world’s oldest wooden structure stands—and our plan had been to stop for okonomiyaki in Nara. We picked the one closest to the train station and found ourselves in this little gem named Takomi. Two tables inside and one on the sidewalk. We watched the server, all hustle and smiles, reshuffle patrons several times to make sure every seat was filled and no one was waiting. The food came literally sizzling on metal platters, so hot I had to move each bite to the side dish just to be able to eat it. Our table mates were a New Zealander guy and Thai gal, both now living in Thailand and having a
long weekend in Japan. I tried my best to finish my food and almost did.

Our delicious Dormy Inn ramen—no extra charge.

Street Fashion, I Hope Just Part One

Posted on April 16, 2024 by Catherine

As you can see below, I gave up asking permission after a while, and just snapped from the back or surreptitiously. These photos are from Osaka and Kyoto. (We estimate 30% of Japanese are wearing masks, color coordinated of course.)

Escape to Tamba

Posted on April 14, 2024 by Catherine

The train from Osaka station to Tamba took about an hour, a short ride to a different world. Harumi had booked a ryokan stay for us three and she chose well. Sasayama Kinmata is small, old, quiet, lovely. Unlike a typical hotel we had booked a room for three, which meant one large bedroom, with bath and sitting room, three comfy beds. Given our onsen experiences over the previous few days it didn’t feel the least bit awkward. And the beds…white fluffy comforters were like sleeping in marshmallow. In a good way.

**One of the interior gardens at the ryokan**

These places are not cheap. You are paying for especially nice hot spring baths and the kaiseki experience for dinner and breakfast. As a guest you are in the hands of a chef and every course, every bite, celebrates the season and local foods. It is an experience. Some of the food was as exotic as Japanese dishes can be, mixing textures and flavors in ways David and I have never had before. Some is familiar—and of surprising quality. For example, the rice we had for breakfast came from the ryokan’s own fields, cooked to a translucent perfection. I mean, the rice here is pretty darned good everywhere but this was extraordinary.

Tamba is known for its wild boar and it was the centerpiece of the meal in the final course, hotpot of spring greens—a type of celery leaves plus their slender roots, wild watercress, a kind of broccoli, bamboo shoots, even tiny sprigs of Szechuan peppercorn leaves. And a few others I don’t remember. The boar is traditionally sliced, the red meat and pink fat almost transparent and arranged in the shape of a peony on a large platter. While the amount of fat to meat was startling and a bit scary, as you eat a piece dipped out of the simmering water you cannot discern what is what. Not remotely greasy or fatty in feel or taste. Preceding the hotpot were tea smoked local trout, pressed salmon sushi, a spring roll with miso-citrus dipping sauce. And a dish i cannot remember except that the dollop of wasabi had just been grated.

Dinner started at 6; we struggled to get up from the table at 8:30. The final dish, a dessert of the softest and freshest mochi, green and dusted with rice flour, was delivered to the room. Yes, we ate it with delight.

The next morning we woke up hungry, luckily, because another feast awaited. The aforementioned rice, tofu simmered with fresh spring vegetables with a delicious dipping sauce, warm rolled omelettes, pickles, miso soup, a salad of sweet onions, lettuce, a coddled egg, and miso dressing…and I am sure i am forgetting something. Oh, yes, smoked fish.

We packed, checked out, and went to explore the town and find some ceramics to buy. My biggest regret is we forgot to take pictures of the charming, friendly, overflowing ceramics store where we could have bought suitcases full.

The train station is in the newer part of town, rather suburban looking. The traditional old sections, where the ryokan is located and where we wandered for a few hours, is from another time. There is a history and art museum in the old courthouse, tiny stores—the shiitake mushroom store, the cedar and incense store, sweet potato snack store, souvenir and soft serve store. Harumi bought black rice and their famous black beans. We toured the museum, walked past the moat that surrounds the castle ruins, cut through to cross the little river and wander past the mishmash of houses. Laughed at the giant wild boar head smashing out of a hotel outbuilding. Admired, again, the cherry blossoms still in full bloom.

Back on the train at 1:30, we parted ways with Harumi at Osaka Station and hopped the train for the 30 minute ride into Kyoto.

Inescapably Rational

Before you do anything rash, take a walk

Category Archives: Uncategorized