Hibari

I never intended to spend the last 6 weeks in Japan.

After Thailand, my plan was to fly to Ho Chi Minh City then on to Fukuoka mid-May. But as wonderful as Vietnam is said to be, a month of 90-100 degree days with humidity just as high, suggested a visit some other time.

The beauty of long-term travel is you need not be locked in. A suggestion from a fellow traveler, a change in the weather, can set you on a new and unanticipated course. So, just because I could, I substituted two weeks of Vietnam with Honk Kong and Taiwan. That left 6 weeks in the Land of the Rising Sun, none of which I regret.

I’ll write tomorrow or the next on my overall impressions - before Pa returns on Thursday for the flight home. For now, I want to share something of my Kyoto neighborhood and of Hibari Hostel, my home these past two weeks.

Why Hibari? It was cheap I guess, and simple, and not far from the Main Station. Other than that, I knew little else.

When I arrived by train in Kyoto, I walked the thirty minutes, surprised that the final blocks,

for the lack of a better word,

were in the heart of a warehouse district.

An odd location,

I thought,

for my time,

in the ancient Capital.

Then I arrived at Hibari,

an island amid the oddities.

I fell in love with the simple place,

consistent as it is

with my simple needs and nature.

And I found a friend in Yusuke,

the manager,

who every few days replaced the flowers

on the wall of my room.

As the days passed, and I explored a scattering of Kyoto’s sights, I grew quite fond of my neighborhood,

its little oddities,

and treasures,

not the least of which the vending machine next door,

and its chilled milk coffee, slightly sweetened.

I’ll miss Kyoto, my neighborhood and most especially, Hibari. Someday I’lI return, good fortune permitting.

But all things, I’ve learned, come to an end.