Very Swollen Feet Accompanied By Headache

Kansai colors (I)

is said that Japan has two particularly beautiful moments: the spring and fall. In spring, cherry and plum blossoms make this country into something indescribable. In autumn, the colors of the leaves of trees are responsible for providing new sensations.

And he also said that Kansai is the region of Japan where the fall is more beautiful.

Of the 4 +1 weeks, I was 4 in Kansai: Kobe, Himeji, Nara, Kyoto, Osaka ... belong to Kansai.

Now that I've been here in Spain almost two short week. Now I start to miss certain things that are irrelevant. Now that the cold winter we eats the cartilage. Now to do over a thousand photos of my 4 +1 weeks in Japan starting to look like an exercise in nostalgia.

Now, I say, I think is the best time to share with you the colors of Kansai. This first batch is all of Kyoto.

Enjoy it.

Kinkaku-ji: The input.

Kinkaku-ji: Next to the lake.

Kinkaku-ji: The waterfall.

Kinkaku-ji: The forest.

Ninna-ji

: Lake.

Ninna-ji

: Next to the pagoda.

Who Much Is Half A Head Of Highlights

The reunion: Reality Strikes

The journey back was long. Very long.

I got up at 4 am, I took a train at 5.13 which led me to the bus stop that would take nearly two hours to take me to the airport. About twelve hour flight to Frankfurt. From there, three short hours of scale and two others to Barajas. When I got to bed I could not believe. Let alone be finally in the arms of my baby. I was obedient, yes, and jet-lag could not be me.

Spain has been to reach and realize the changes that have suffered: in these five weeks I have lived, enjoyed, suffered and sometimes (I admit) to cursed the stolid silence as the Japanese have a cultural thing. Well. Was to reach the boarding gate was for me at the airport in Narita (Tokyo) and meet with a English couple shouting that anyone interested us:

- And what a disappointment so great that almost did not!
- But who would think!?
- Well I say that!
- And what did you do?!
- Oh, do not remind me!

And I remembered that he was coming back to Spain, the land of the siesta and the party, the country which cries more than breathing. And just at Christmas, that great time drinking at the river fish and bells on bells unbearable decibel. What laziness. I

a bit overwhelmed these days, I can not deny. Perhaps the peace it produces (the end) isolation in a linguistic communicative devil (as said first Christian missionaries arrived in Japan), perhaps ("too?) Gentleness and kindness of the employees, perhaps the spiritual peace temples and shrines ... The fact is that, accustomed to something that does not fall, the English society seems aggressive, hurtful, nervous ... Funny like few others, is true. And sometimes humanitarian, of course.

But shrill as no longer tolerable in normal situations.

"is that Latinos are passionate, they say. A passionate club. A whole string of hysterical rude is what we are. Usually, of course. There are exceptions so supreme you feel like tap dancing on street corners.

And yet, how much I missed home. Because this is the homeland of one, that outside military contexts and / or derechones, comes from the Latin "pater" (father) and means "land of the father." So here, in Spain, my country and motherland, I will have to stay a bit longer.

Although (I confess) I hope not too much.

As you know, I'll write more about Japan. So keep this blog. By the way, I added a photo to another to what I wrote from Tokyo: If you go down a little, find new things.

Small Audrey Hepburn Shower Curtains

Arigato, Nippon. Absorbed

As I have been counting, I'm leaving Japan in a few hours. But why not just blog, much less. Since he had no possibility of uploading photos to illustrate my comments in recent days I have written less. But when I get back to writing house, leaving a testimony of lived experience and not yet reported. Tokyo, Nikko, Kamakura, Yokohama ..., they give much more of what you have read. And another little something special at the moment do not say. So do not go yet there's more.

So it's just a goodbye, I say goodbye to you today.

And Japan, whom I have the certainty that I will see soon, I can only spend a few haikus outlined innocent limp between trips.



Sanjusangendo:
I
barefoot around a thousand and one Buddhas.


Nara and
breeze
have my secrets I do not know. Stairways


. There are steps that ascend

and falling leaves.



I ask this land that we do not
forget each other.


back soon: Fall
your temples
chained me.


Moss. A torii. Man looking
a temple. Something
awake.

What Kind Of Camera Do I Need For Closeup

disbelief, bowlegged, ojiplático ... 47 ronin

Now, when there are only a few hours to bid farewell to Japan, I have a final count of everything that has been surprising me (for better, for worse, for rare, so who knows ...) in these 4 +1 weeks. Some of them have been peppered these lines. The following never had (so far) an adequate gap.

- On any fashion ad, the canon of beauty (especially females) is the western. The models clothing, wrinkle creams ... are Western. Not so, of course, with the announcements of insurance or the mortgage, since in these it is that japonesillas japonesillos and feel identified @ s bite the bait. So much comes obsessed with having white skin, the girls (not saying all, but a number too high for what the WHO recommend) are in miniskirts without socks in winter (and when I say I am very miniskirt sometimes benevolent) to cold (ice right now, is a stream that comes from Siberia) will leave the skin more pale. I saw legs covered in bruises from the same cold. In contrast, in summer (to keep them out of the sun tanning) are made not just pants, but long-sleeved shirts and even gloves. And I say that in the name of fashion or aesthetics one can do with your body what you like. But the faintness and hypothermia are serious.

- Reviewers of the trains are very nice. EVERY time they enter and leave each car are turned towards the people (which does not make you any attention because they tend to be sleeping) to make a bow and so thankful that make use of the facilities. This, of course, in carriages where there is room to walk. At eight o'clock is unthinkable.

- For trains in Tokyo at eight o'clock, I must say that, at his side, Kyoto buses are like a spacious hangar where they fit three Titanics. The mother of fair love, what stopping them. If the train hits a slowdown will not fall because you have nowhere to fall. And indeed, the tight (some men whose job is to push people to fit in the car) are working for him.

- Best of the trains and subways, on the platforms there is a point of indicating where signs will be located the doors. People therefore queuing from that point, which avoids the problems of "let out before entering." Some skip it, of course. But it is the less. Moreover, almost everyone knows this basic rule as civic education which in no escalators to cut the passage in case someone in a hurry. I hate people who stay planted in the middle of the flight of stairs without thinking that is causing a jam.

- Last point about public transport. It is true what he had heard: there are some women-only carriages. Apparently there were many complaints that, taking advantage of the jam, the men put his hand in a more than ostentatious. In some cases, if a man enters the carriage of women, nothing happens. At least in Kobe, a city more quiet, I have entered and there were more gentlemen like me. Tokyo do not know if things are equal. Before this I wonder if a woman goes to car at rush hour and they put unisex hand, have a right to complain?

- Fruit is very expensive. To get an idea, a basket with 9 strawberries (counted with those eyes that someone I know I have to remember before you close your eyes each night) costs about EUR 6. And it is most expensive.

- In Spain there are supermarkets, for example, a hall exclusively for pet food. Here too. But there is another exclusive for algae.

- It is impossible to change a schema to a Japanese. As an example, I'll tell my daily struggle with the bed in the residence. On the one hand, the pillow they gave me gave me an allergy, as it had inside and little balls of something weird. The first night I could not sleep. The second slept without a pillow and in the morning I hurt my neck. The third night I decided to use towels to function as a pillow. As the laundry room and spare sheets and towels were in front of my door, I agency four towels for use every night (they were always the same, mind you). Moreover, since the evening cool, I used a blanket that was in my closet to wear it on top. That's right: when he returned home in the evening the room had already made with the pillow ball into the bed, the blanket back into the closet and folded towels on the quilt. During four weeks I had to put the blanket every night. As for the towels, I told you that I was forced to buy a pillow, then passed me a note saying that I only reception was allowed to wear a pad daily.

- On the other hand, both the sheets tucked to make the bed that night I could not sleep so tight it was. What wild aunts.

- I said that sleep is the national sport. They do it anywhere. And "anywhere" means "everywhere." On the other hand, the national drink is not far from the sake. What is. Everything is "Japanese tea", which is what we in our ignorance, we call "green tea." In the restaurants are free, such as water jugs in Spain.

- A big bike everywhere. To the extent that I have been on the verge of an outrage over the sidewalk. And no, there was no bike lane.

- Feeling helpless before a language you do not know and can not even read their characters makes you feel completely illiterate. A total illiterate. Feel worthwhile, even for a few days. Just as Boadella once said that many of the problems of Spain (and many of the follies of the English) would be solved with a week of dictatorship a year to remind us what is really the lack of freedom and democracy.

- The works and repairs on public roads are fast and have never seen. Within one (1) day, up a street near the university, he had repaired the damage, they closed all asphalted and left made the minimum marks to remember where was the pedestrian crosswalk. The next day they painted.

- The previous point implies that not only is possible, but there are also people who do it. This, friends, yes we are light years ahead of the Japanese. For centuries light, I dare say.

- Couples usually do not show affection in public. Some go hand in hand, but it is not common. And I have not seen anyone, anyone giving a kiss.

- However, prostitution is not only legal but is announced by the mailboxes of the houses in a very cute pamphlets with photographs including the girls, they also very cute. If for some reason you do not want to get kicked in the mailbox Whorehouses propaganda, because you have to put up a sign that says so. "Please, do not want hookers in my mailbox." And all so happy.

- In operational terms, I explained some of my students that it is calling on the phone and send you a bf home. If you do not, then quit and send you another. So who match up with the one you want. I imagine it will not be so, but (even online) you can see by the photo to select the one you want. When discussing some students in Spain are the customers who will visit the whores (usually) is dismayed, because according to them, if the client is someone important would be evidence if you see a lot of whores around. I told them is true, but according to the Japanese so the client is important not only in fact but that pilinguis, in addition, they find out where the illustrious lives, and that's become more evident. Amazed by the obvious reasoning.

- No one is interested in staying with something that is not yours. This lovely euphemism means, for example, at the University of kobe I could safely leave my laptop on and plugged in my purse or forgotten over a table in a hallway and get out to eat any one floor below. When he returned an hour later, everything was still there. It is as normal. Everybody does. Color me to stay. And it's something more or less, it happens all over Japan. There is crime, I suppose, but, generally, one can walk down the street pretty quiet.


This blog has tried to show the glimpse (five weeks will fly past almost always) a fascination with everything Western. If you want more about Japan, from a similar perspective, I recommend the following blog, also on Japan, written by a English very room from which spent years living and working in this country. Review can do everything that has been written since June 2004. A joy to learn more and more everyday aspects ojiplatizantes.


http://micko.blogspot.com/


And here I come with my relationship annihilation. If there are more than certain that yes, I know will bring them in this blog.

Female Masterbstion Tech

I have much to say about Tokyo. Tomorrow is my last day (hopefully temporarily) the archipelago enigmatic and seductive. When you arrive in Spain will update the blog to show you some more of the thousands (literally) pictures I've done. Wonders of digital photography. But I do not leave without having one of the stories have captivated me most.

late seventeenth century, a feudal lord named Lord Asano had to organize a ceremony of protocol in the shogun's palace, which was something like the head of state (the emperor had a role almost anecdotal) to which sought the advice of Lord Kira. This, we think that Asano stay well with the shogun could lead to their own detriment, basely deceived him, so that the ceremony was a disgrace to Asano. Socially plunge to finish, Kira openly mocked the failure of the ceremony. Given this, Asano drew his sword and stabbed him in the forehead, which Kira's victory meant in that day, wield a weapon in the shogun's palace was a serious crime. Kira, knowing this law, was not convicted of provocation. Instead, Asano was sentenced to commit seppuku (or harakiri) and their lands confiscated and his family would be vilified for such daring. Asano was buried in the temple of Sengakuji.

Asano's servants were, therefore, no sir. This makes, as in "Ronin" (which means just that, "raised without love"). 47 of these ronin vowed revenge against the injustice done to his master, knowing that the servant who kills a feudal lord is punished with death. So, two years later, when Kira and suspected nothing, entered his palace and killed him, decapitating him. Then they went to Sengakuji, washed his head in a hole (the one pictured above) and placed at the grave of Asano. Once done, surrendered to justice. Sentenced to death, 47 were made to commit seppuku in a collective ceremony and were buried next to his master Sengakuji. Asano's widow gave to the monks who tended the temple a plum tree that is planted next to the nearly 50 tombs.

Even today, three hundred years later, the Japanese come to Sengakuji to pay tribute to these heroes, unwavering loyalty model. There have written hundreds road works and hundreds of films on this subject.

our Fuenteovejuna Something like (which was also a real fact), but here is a matter of national pride. In Spain, however, the "Who killed the commander?" we sound like old wives' tale that are bored at the brazier. Anyway. Sic transit ...

Sengakuji I was in a church so humble and simple, but deeply moving because of the history of the tombs, loyalty, passion with which Japanese go, silence and respect the offered to each grave lit an incense stick. I bought the incense, which they sell in large enough clusters to there are enough for each hero. For five minutes I bowed to each grave, depositing the offering. I left the room ruefully, but with some pride in the viscera.

Allegiance. Nobility. Justice. What a splendid life than three hundred years after his death, manages to be remembered with these three words.

Kates Playground Hardocre

premiere

Yes. Day 4 was the premiere. The boys were nerviosísimos. This is not surprising, because they had tested nearly six months, of which the latter had been at a rate of twelve hours a day, seven days a week. And only one function: that of the day 4. It is not that they have not agreed any other date, no. Is that from the beginning knew that this was a work for a function. Manda noses work capacity of these types. What champions. And what also masochist, why deny it.

The performance was in the Kobe Art Village Center, a professional theater very very cool of Kobe. It was a college theater festival (specifically, from the university), so that students from each department to a work. It represented, therefore, four works: a piece of China, a Russian work (Uncle Vanya, Chekhov), an English and ours. I had no chance to see the other works, so do not ask me. What I do know is that all groups threw the same number of hours. And it's not an understatement.

was a success. I said that some were nervous as custard, but let me tell you a special cas. I think you will remember the Surgeon (I only kept their names, I addressed them by the name of the character, something they appreciated because they said it helped them get into character), who was this boy who was only ten sentences most, and that every day I asked a thousand different things because "I was not sure if I could give the character with all the drama that certainly has given Cervantes when he wrote it." An hour before he was about to mourn because it was the first time I was doing theater, and was afraid because their parents went to see him do something very different from what they normally do (for which I'm glad, because the character is pulled by the hair and dragged on the floor and then yelled at a judge disrespected) and did not know what they would think, and he hated the theater, you never Pillari another like that. Consoled him, told him I envied him for being his first time, that is the best, or so they say. I spoke of what he felt was normal. I told him a minute before going on stage would believe that he forgot the text. I commented that it was very likely have to pee. But, still, to calm down. Who cared just enjoy and get us enjoy the other, both within a few English who were like the Japanese, as they had done a great subtitle for the Japanese public would understand everything. Well. So when the surgeon went public ate. A silly role as himself, and the boy handed it pipe, made the silly (within set) and started the laughter and applause of the audience. At the end of the work had an unforgettable smile, the kind that are worth a mine potosisca, Cervantes dixit.

(At night we went to celebrate, where I learned that the Japanese generally do not know how to drink. Go chives it took a few. The surgeon, in the restaurant, half went to a table and shouted for everyone to next year give the title role. Angelito.)

For my part, I enjoyed as a dwarf down with Sam to the public. And enjoyed it because I saw them (with Cristina, who helped me know what dishes were in the restaurant and Koji, who from day one made for helping within the group dynamic, the soldier, who when he sees me through the halls hugs me and asks me not to go to Japan because he says I'm the best teacher I ever had, Saya, which is not understand a word when I arrived and now has one of the best predictions of the work, to the point where it took second prize in the category of actresses from all over the festival, and so up to twenty people on stage) then enjoy the huge effort they have made (I do not tire of repeating). But I enjoyed even more, if possible, when I turned and saw how the Japanese public, in full, and burst out laughing amused with some interludes written by a man who died nearly 400 years ago, and I had a bit of guilt all.

"How nice," I thought, "this is really doing a good tribute to Cervantes in Don Quixote this year. And the rest is nonsense."

Generate Your Paper Toy

I've been a few days in Tokyo. Right from the Monday night (I write these lines on Thursday afternoon), and for a few reasons not relevant here I could not write on the blog. Suffice to say that for some strange reason I can not post pictures. So keep writing, but when I do I'll do a less extensive and without pictures. I'll keep trying, mind you. Let's see what happens ...

Finally, you can imagine that I have to tell you a lot of outdated information. For example, on the conference I gave last Wednesday, that is, on 30 November. Everything started when I was very happy after a short class theater students to tell what it was the English Golden Age, and I got link to some of my limited knowledge of Japanese culture and history. The kids understood it better because of these examples, and the next day I went to a meeting of the English Department as teachers wanted to know. They asked me how I was giving the adaptation to the environment, and told them what the class. I admit that I was a bit different pedantic, as the situation required: in the end I was invited by a university there had no more to me some references and wanted them to see that I was at the height of those references. So when I saw that I had some knowledge of Japan (again, rare) were shocked, and Professor Fukushima, a charming man, others suggested that I give a lecture-introduction to the English Golden Age, more specifically on Cervantes ( cachis, could have been on Lope) for all students of English at the university: about 200. They felt good and got the university paid me apart from the conference. I loved it. Of course.

I thoroughly prepared the conference (I promise that rhyme was not sought), and to devise a scheme very simple-to provide a copy to each student, which summed up everything that was going to explain. For the words "difficult" told again with the help of Santi and some Japanese students, which led me concepts like "Counter" or "Invincible." Moreover, since the classroom where the lecture is taught, the 504, as shown in the photo below, projector and screen available for the computer, I prepared a document with images that help students understand visually what he was talking about. Thanks to that could understand (I think) what was the Inquisition or Comedy Corral.

And the day came, and was a success. The guys were watching (some were asleep, but here is common to the utmost, you know rest on any site is the national sport) And as I say, who had to be happy he was. Because the students were delighted (and if you do not like about Cossacks were lied when I said yes) and teachers: came across the English Department in full and then gave me a farewell dinner (sushi source Skyscraper size) in a pleasant climate in which someone suggested it would be great someday I could work there. The ears I was shot, the antennas are directed toward that point. All teachers said yes, that is true, it would be a good signing. To my dismay (because I do not mind if we came here a year old, for example) is that the position for which I could choose a reader that you have to apply at the University of Alcalá, as there is an exchange of teachers between the two universities: a Japanese teaching Japanese and English English Alcalá in Kobe. The deadline for submission of applications over the next day to come to me to Japan and I did I knew. In short, our fate when international travel continues his streak lasting.

But that does not detract from what mattered most that day: my first conference, and also in a distant country like Japan to an audience which, of course, would not understand everything he said. But I got it. And so richly.

The next day, reviews the premiere of the work.

How Tell If Somone Masterbaits

Kyoto conference (III): Sanjusangendo, Chion-in, Ginkakuji ...

My third and last day in Kyoto was as tired as fruitful, but would have preferred more of the latter than the former. I have told you once that Kyoto is immense, or so it seems. Know the population you have, or geographical extent. But I say it is very very wide. That last day I had, moreover, many recommendations of sites-the-not-you-can-lose carrying the agenda, overloaded with possibilities. In total pretended to go to six places, some of them quite removed from each other, or even enough removed to dry. Without thinking twice I got up at half past six and nine and was in Kyoto. It is a shame that Fapresto not let me infamous pun, because in this case would say that I felt like Cervantes and the Quixote and I Kyoto. But anyway, go to the monuments, which will always be more emblematic than any tontuna mine.

Santi and calligraphy teacher had recommended me to the core a Buddhist temple called Sanjusangendo, known for its thousand and one Buddha. This very close to the main train station in Kyoto, so it was my first stop. Came to the door, send payment as Buddha, I lamented to the lineup of "can not take pictures" (you know, the accompanying are taken from the Internet), I think the temple on the outside is ugly as the one that has a lot to impress the inside to keep up with the recommendations as authentic. But sloughing with the giant Buddha in Nara, so I better shut up and let the awe it do its work.

Sanjusangendo means something like "thirty-three spaces, from the number of spaces left column of the only room that has the temple. The building is very long. I have never known much of measures, but I think between column and column may have no problem five to seven meters. Multiply and you will be surprised. That is what I did to get in, of course. Because I thought the Buddha would be a thousand and one the size of a typical domestic popular image as the Santa Rita I had my grandmother or the Sacred Heart that is my mother in her room. Cheers for me. Each Buddha has over five feet tall. And there are thousand so. In the center, separating the other half a hundred (I have not counted, you'll have to trust me as I am of the temple authorities), a higher proportion Buddha who is revered in a special way. In fact, during my visit a priest was making a prayer by repeating a mantra (or so I think) with a bell that played at all times and in the atmosphere that produced a climate different from everything, close to what we in the imagination through a few movies, but in any case be new for the first time, suddenly, I am in the middle of a genuine Buddhist ceremony. The silence, broken only by the mantras and the bell, is absolute. The Buddhas impact by number. Thousand-foot statues are many statues of five feet, really. Incredible. And differences between them. In the picture, even with all the depth there, you see only half (ie the picture is taken from the central Buddha and would fail to see the Buddhas of the left wing). I guess this effect must be something like the warriors of Xian, China. Although the Warriors are about seven thousand, I have heard. In front of the Buddha, statues of protective gods that no watch no evil spirit. Also, at one end of the room, the god of rain and the wind in another. Nature always omnipresent in the East.

Maybe later repetition ad millem "of the statues have seemed weary or glib. I mean, as I recall, in the West, the repetition is not an aesthetic reason, and when we find, for example, in the Vatican Museums (happened to me), one is disgusted by the inability to stare before a statue because of so many. As they say someone important to me, "obscures the forest trees." Here, however, the opposite happens. Because one of these statues would result soda, empty, before the majesty everyday that I have used this blessed archipelago. Instead, and as are all equal (except those small differences in the dressing room), I get better focus on only one of these statues: seeing the forest get me a perfect idea as a tree. I am writing, in fact, these lines nearly a week after my last day in Kyoto. Believe me when I say that I remember almost to the centimeter the details of the statues.

And, of course, the Buddha. The principal, the great, the only one whom they worship in a central location of exception. It is not, nor nearly as vast as that of Nara. Do not pretend to be. I think that would eclipse the serene beauty of the building. At a junction of forces, the magic of the Giant Buddha and the magic of a thousand statues would not melt but that would eclipse the other and vice versa. I like to see the heads of the Buddhas. I do not speak of a thousand statues, but of the great statues of Buddha that I've seen in these and four weeks. And I reaffirm what I have said more times in this blog, as there will not been the history of Buddhism, or whether a religion has been as bloody as the top three that I know in the West. I do not care, because they do not talk about it. I speak and I want to mention that this God has been made to face him. Islam is not never the face of Allah, Christianity shows us a man crucified with a crown of thorns on his head (or, rather, a man being roasted on a grill or a woman they have cut breasts and shows them in a tray, or perhaps another tray with the head of the crucified Lord to baptize) and know if there are graphic representations of the god of the Jews. And I say that I speak of the essence, not the history of religions. If I have to give thanks, ask for advice or help, pray for my soul or find solace after the death of a loved one, I would love to look into the eyes that I talk and not feel more than appreciation, kindness, humility and simplicity . And, although so far I have no intention of becoming any religion, I must say that I found just looking at the face of Buddha. Even after Richard Gere and may be responsible to trivialize the image of the Buddhist, I believe that this god and his followers speak the same language.

Salgo Sanjusangendo, prop me, I look for a bus (today is Monday and the crowd there, so I have no problem using them) and I head to Chion-in. Is an enclosure santuarial (do not know if there is such a word) in which there are several buildings, devoted to one or the other gods. And know you've arrived when the door is, vast as only they know to be disconcerting. In the picture you can see how people are small beside him. It is only the gateway to the campus. And you feel like getting. Go if you want. A big Climbing the stairs that separate the gate, a map shows you where you are and how many things can be seen inside the compound, including up to view recommended routes best. This is very convenient, it is quite common throughout Japan. It is difficult, as a rule, lost: every five hundred meters (depending on the site, of course) you can find one. It is easy, thanks to this, not suddenly appear in Navacerrada. When you enter the main site and you clear something: No smoking, although we are abroad. We can not forget that ALL the buildings are made of wood and surrounded by nature semiagreste. I have told you once that the fire was caused or not, who has destroyed the vast majority of historic buildings in this country. Earthquakes have also helped, of course.

I visit the main temple, do not take pictures because you can, but not There is nothing special to highlight, and I dedicate it to wander, trying to avoid the masses of people (although not many, not thought-provoking that I like). That brings me to the cemetery of the sanctuary. Than peace. I always liked cemeteries, some already know (I think), are quiet places where one can come to reunite with their loved ones or at least to remind you where physically there is something about them. I've always said I will not be cremated but buried me. Although, after this contact with nature on this trip, no, no ... Anyway, I would not mind being buried here. Although a little cop you to hell, really. Never mind, I have no intention of dying for now, that I still have to war. Touch wood and I, after five minutes of relaxation in the cemetery. No gore acuseis me, please. I only speak of quiet places.

But for peace of mind that I passed the next temple. Always within the confines of Chion-In, came to a site that is not what is (which is because the map has indicated, of course, but since I do not read Japanese so far not as it is called) but that captivates me up more absolute marrow. It will be the lighting, will be that no one, will I'm sensitive (four weeks so that great), but I'm, again, in front of Beauty. Just like that. Inside someone sweeps the temple, the sun caresses the leaves (which can not es describir los colores de esta region en otoño), no se oye mas que el silencio... Si hay un paraiso y no se parece a este, que me lo cambien. Por favor.

La siguiente parada sera Ginkakuji. Si recordais, la ultima vez que estuve en Kyoto fui a Kinkakuji, que es el pabellon de oro. Ginkakuji es, pues, el pabellon de plata. Tengo que tomar otro autobus (hoy consigo sentarme en todos, que felicidad) que me acerca hasta la entrada del Sendero de la Filosofia, que es un caminito milenario que transcurre a lo largo de un pequeño canal. Deben ser como dos kilometros, algo menos quizas, hasta llegar a Ginkakuji. Lo se, lo se, no dejo de andar todo el dia. Estoy echando unos gemelos que pa que... Tras recorrer el sendero (Favoring pictures like that you can see) came at last to the silver pavilion. I think it's a favorite of couples kiotenses, because it is almost all we have. It is indeed a romantic environment as the single. I have not here who would, of course. But, although not at all the same, I get two or three songs I've ever shared with her. And, though I comfort dream that my arms around in the yard while I say tender, goofy stuff in his ear. But in the end. This is a travel blog. To love literature you already have a Garcilaso and Lope, who are the great gods.


Kibune is, perhaps, the furthest from the central shrine of Kyoto. From Ginkakuji I have to walk half an hour to reach the train station to take me there (yes, half an hour, I know, do not take bus because the map seemed closest), and once on the train to stop twenty-five minutes. When he arrived, another twenty minute walk uphill in the middle of the mountain. Heavenly, but exhausting. Cold even in the corcusilla, but comfortable. Finally arrived. Kibune is the sanctuary that come the peasants, farmers ... to give thanks for water. That's why the mountain is next to several waterfalls and streams. It's small, austere, unpretentious old. However, I was interested in coming here since I saw a picture in Spain. Look, ask, I lost before reaching Japan because the image of this sanctuary is used by the national tourist board japonsea on the cover of an international booklet of twenty pages for those who want to visit the country. I mean it's an image used enough to let someone know of where it is. But no flowers. Neither the Embassy of Japan, or Japanese travel agency where you buy the JR Pass or the Japanese restaurant where I eat when I go to Madrid. Nobody knew. I hallucinating thinking how could he not know him. I arrived here and three quarters of the same until the lady of the Kyoto tourist office told me that, in fact, it was Kibune. Now I understand: it tends to infinity, the number of temples and shrines that exist in Japan. No if counted will have somewhere. The strange thing is that someone knew.

Kibune And as I say, is tiny. I can even say that the shrine itself is worth nothing (or no more than other 1200 I've seen here), out of more than certain religious values \u200b\u200bthat give the faithful who come to their rites here. That if the stairs leading from the entrance to the shrine torii worth the two walks that I have. Do not know if I'll have time or opportunity, but I would like to someday be able to write something about the stone steps of Japan. I am excited.

When you get back to the center of Kyoto would have thought that even time to see the two sites that wanted to see. Viewing the map, the Jardin Botanico (which I recommended as an urgent Jesus Calvo) is very close. Closes at 5. Perfect. It's 3 and a half ago. No problem. I can find a bus stop near the Botanic me. When I come, oh sorrow, oh sorrow, oh lonely fields withered hills, the Botanical Garden closes at 5, yes, but the check in time is until four. And they are five. I was enraged to the utmost. Nothing happens. We're going to do. I still have another site: Nembutsuji Adashino temple on the outskirts of Kyoto (other than a Kibune outside), a seemingly beautiful temple situated in the cemetery where they buried a thousand years ago people who had no friends or relatives who are give good burial. However, no bus stops nearby. I go to Where else can let me near the bus and start walking. Ando and Ando. Fifty minutes walk, for more information. My twins are starting to be hardened titanium. I get lost. This is beyond the end of the known world in the Heian era. I meet an old lady. I ask that if you speak English. I said of course not. I ask a Japanese gruesome than where you come to the temple. He tells me I have to go back (maybe I said something else, but that's what I think he had to say) and points a path a hundred yards and then move your arm toward the infinite, as if to say "you're going down that road and when you get to take the ass are already there. " So I do. When he arrived, the temple has been closed. And indeed, I am to take the ass. Very far. So much that it is dark. But there are people who seem to tourists, and to see them return home as follow: surely reach the station know better than me.

hour and a half later I was at home. My last day in Kyoto has been fantastic and exhausting, of course. I still have to see over half the city. But I'll have to leave for my next trip to Japan. I hope is soon. But you never know.

caused

Punching Bag On A 4x4

A day in Kobe City (II): The port

After the expectation, I will not leave without finishing my day in Kobe. Sali
Kitano
something terrible, but somehow happy: the English are not the only ones that are remembered for the folk (say torero, tuna and Seville), but the Dutch same thing happens. Anyway ... Lower

back to Sannomiya, and instead of taking the subway to Gakuentoshi (home) I decided to have a stroll to do with what I was. So I took the map and headed toward the port, I think I have told you that here they call Harborland. On the way a selection of modern music to spice up the party (ie, which to me means "modern" because you know me: Lots of Sabina, Serrat something and Rodriguez) and walk path that time has erased.

Soon come to a site that looked like a bunker with a power top and what looks like a small fire eternal. A poster (in Japanese and English) says "the cosmic elements." Then I remember that Eastern culture has five elements: the four we know but the metal. I go, I still gnarly hallways with signs something really small letters, and came to an underground room. I am alone. Silence. I look around me. A medium-sized chamber filled with plates filled with something that looks like names. The roof-thick acrylic glass or not, is the source that he looked outside, seen from below. And then I understand. It is a tribute to the city of the 6000 Kobe earthquake killed 1995. The silence is peaceful, inviting self-collected. Miro names. People who have been-or not-whose names I can not read. Suddenly a noise breaks the silence. I look up. The water has started to bubble at full speed, through air ducts.

Fire in the street. Water on the roof. Air in the water. Metal plates. Land that surrounds them. The five elements. For those who built this tribute, those who were and are one with the cosmos. And in this culture is the best you could hope to one who has to go.

is a quiet place. Very quiet. And as I said, invited the gathering. I look in my backpack, book bag Garcia Marquez (Memories of My Melancholy Whores) that had been pending since my first day in Kyoto, I sit on the floor and start reading. Occasionally, very occasionally, someone comes to see the monument. I keep focused on the sad story of love Delgadina wise. I just finally. I have spent almost four weeks to find emotion and tenderness for all sites. I, however, that aesthetic pleasure is all around us and is only to find it. I will not thank me ready, of course, do not mean that I will find it as anyone. After all, it is logical that in a culture where everything is new is easier. What matters to me is the amount of good moments that I'm inhabiting. Moments that are charging the batteries for when you return. I have a thousand projects in Spain. To see what is left.

I leave in silence of the room and came to the port in ten minutes while Serrat describes the woman I love. Not much to see, really, apart from remnants of the earthquake. Have left somewhere as stay leaving a testimony of how bad it was. I would say that is impressive, but it is a piece so small that you almost think you did some hooligans either. Also entered in the Kobe maritime museum. I'm bored enough. Believed that there would be an aquarium (apparently there are a pretty good Kobe) and is, as its name implies, a maritime museum. Boats and ships and explanations on how the charging port of Kobe (the sixth most important in the world, apparently), twinned with the port of Riga, among others.

From there and I go home. Before I took a picture of the tower of the port, famous for its modern design it. It was a day normalito, truth, throwing aburridillo. But in the end. For the record, and notify you.

No desespereis. El proximo dia, mi ultima estancia en Kyoto.