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.
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