kobe, and tokyo one last time.

Basically, we had one afternoon in Kobe. So we ran around like idiots for a few hours.

First, stop, of course, was a ridiculously expensive lunch at a hibachi-like grill restaurant, because beef. (For me, Kobe beef is way, way too fatty, but at least our very pleasant chef knew what he was doing. Also, the veggies he grilled for us were incredible.)

After lunch, it was time for a little exploring. See, this is what I would have chosen for lunch. (I just don't necessarily need to see my eels swimming about before I munch them; that's getting way too close to the source, and that's how Sarah becomes a vegetarian.)

 Next, I discovered that Kobe is a manhole-cover-enthusiast's dream.

And I don't even think I got them all. Marvelous.

Traipsed through the Ikuta shrine, likely established in the 3rd century...

...took a quick visit to Japan's oldest mosque (built in 1935, and untouched during both WWII and the catastrophic earthquake of 1995)...

...and wound up in the funny little Kitano district, which became the neighborhood of wealthy western merchants and diplomats in the late 19th century, after the Port of Kobe opened to foreign trade. We started out in the French House, which was full of Art Nouveau magnificence, as one might imagine. (That's a real Tiffany there.)

It also had this whimsical upstairs bedroom decorated in the silliest paintings of animals...

...and this out in the hallway. I'm pretty sure I need this in my house.

Well hello, Mr. Gallé.

And bon jour to the Daum brothers as well.

Picture-framed peephole into a room containing only a jackalope in Ben's House (...of Horrors, is how I think of it. Trophy hunting is just evil.).

William Morris fabrics in the English house...

...the entire second floor of which was devoted to Sherlockiana. Because of course.

We headed back to our hotel at the port, where we visited one of the city's earthquake memorials--this bit of harbor left in disrepair. 

That earthquake occurred in 1995; nearly 6500 people died and over 20% of the buildings in central Kobe were completely destroyed. Something like 300 fires broke out in the damaged areas, and multi-level highways like the one in the background collapsed completely. The city has more-or-less recovered, physically--it's quite beautiful, especially the port area with the mountains behind it--but the earthquake is very clearly still a constant presence here.

I will admit, however, that it was difficult to focus on the earthquake memorial with this going on behind us in the rugby FanZone area. We'd manage to steer clear of those the rest of the time, but the music hooked us on this one. I could have watched these guys play all day. (The drama of that gong alone...!)

Said FanZone was abuzz 'cause of this: the Scotland-Samoa game, which Scotland actually won, so yaaay!

There were at least two pipers in the crowd...

...and I got to see my favorite ref, Nigel Owens, in action. (Well, on the sidelines, but still.)

Post-game, we made our way back into the city center for some late-nite okonomiyaki, our first and only of the trip, in a wee little hole-in-the-wall restaurant filled entirely by 4 of the chef's friends, who were clearly just hanging out and chatting with him after dinner. They were very welcoming and friendly with us, and the chef made us two extraordinary pancakes, one with seafood and one with pork. (I had no idea that this is how they're served: on your very own grill-table, so that each bite is hot and crispy. Yes, please.)

Strolled past the entrance to Kobe's Chinatown on the walk back to our hotel.

The next day, it was back to Tokyo for a couple of nights prior to our flight home, and our first stop was the teamLab Borderless digital art museum(ish). Which looks utterly magical online, and probably would have been, had it not been waaaaaaaaaay too jammed with people. If they'd meter that better, this place could be insanely cool.

A few things were nifty, even so, like this room draped with thousands of color-changing strings of LEDs, and with mirrors on the floor.

And this room, also paneled in mirrors, with hundreds of these little hanging lanterns that change brightness when you move towards them.

And this room, covered in moving projections of flowers everywhere. (Could use a room like this in my house.)

There was also a room where kids could draw something, then scan it in and have it animated as a projection on the floors and walls, and another with these little magnetic shapes that you could move around and have interact with these little elves projected on the walls; those were both pretty magical, but again, just insanely crowded. At least we didn't feel like we were missing out on anything when we bailed out to go to dinner at Birdland, which has a stellar reputation for yakitori, but just didn't turn out to be our thing. (Frankly, my favorite thing on the menu was the simply-dressed mesclun and tomato salad. It was so good I had two.)

And then we went out for an all-too-brief, yet all-too-late, but very swanky, karaoke session, with some non-rugby-playing friends (and a handful of their various family members) who were also in town...to see some rugby. (Srsly, do we run with the rugby crowd nowadays, or what.) Tremendously kind of them to invite us!

The next morning we were up wildly early to do something rather special: see a practice session at a sumo stable! And while it's easy to make jokes about the size of those guys, or how much they eat, or whatever, dang, are they impressive in person. I have a whole newfound respect for how hard they work, and for how they essentially commit their entire lives to the sport; most of the lower-in-the-hierarchy athletes live, eat, and train at the stable year-round. Intense. (Also, because of possible likeness issues, you're not supposed to post photos with faces online, so...you're welcome for these terrible homemade edits.)

Practice started off with about a jillion side leg-lifts (with lots of slapping, to wake up the muscles!), then they shuffled around the ring in a chain a few times.

Next came various stretching exercises; don't kid yourself, these guys are crazy strong.

Then came some sparring, and after each bout the wrestlers would each take this surprisingly graceful diving forward-roll motion.

Did you know there aren't weight classes in sumo?? So obviously, for the smaller guys, it's all about technique. (And there were a couple of guys here who were shockingly small.)

At the end came some more leg lifts, then more stretching. Couldn't believe how flexible they are.

At the late hour of 9:30, we were free to go, and headed back to Tsukiji for a little lunch.

Eeeeeeeeeeel! I now know these aren't terribly sustainable, and feel a little guilty about how many we ate while we were over there, but since I can't get them here, I guess the pressure's off. (We also ate a little [underimpressive] grilled tuna, and scored a couple more daifuku--one red bean and one white chocolate. Would eat those every day.)

Of course, I took a ton more photos, because there are all manner of fascinating dried fishy things for sale here that you'd never see in a Stateside (or central European) market.

I sampled most of them.

Tsukiji's got a handful of their own giant animal signs, but obviously, you just can't compete with Dotonbori.

This woman was selling dried squid-for-snacking from these immense barrels; I assume from the quantity she had that this stuff is popular. (I can handle a little dried squid, but not so much; that's a lotta flavor.)

Next stop of this already-too-long day: the Tokyo National Museum. Look. This place has massive and fabulous collections, but for crying out loud: don't use a piece to advertise your museum, if, in fact, said piece is not amongst those collections. It's just mean. I was super excited to see the Great Wave off Kanagawa--probably the most recognizable piece of Japanese art in the world--but hey! It's not at the Tokyo National Museum, despite the fact that it's all over their website and promo materials. Not cool, guys. So once we figured out that the Wave wasn't there, we went looking for this guy, whose face is so famous they actually used it on the Jumbotron at some of the rugby games to get the "kabuki shout"* going 'round the stadium. We really wanted to see this painting, which is apparently in the museum's collections...but had been rotated off of display just because that's a thing they do. Seriously?? That's like the Louvre rotating out the Mona Lisa. This thing is why people come here. Ughhhhhhhh. (Yes, obviously, I was fairly irritated by all of this.) 

Anyway, I guess we saw some other cool stuff.

Like more of those amazing samurai sword guards. Swoon.

They're just so ridiculously beautiful and elaborate.

I really like the jauntiness of these Four Heavenly Kings figures, meant to guard the four cardinal directions near Buddhist temples. (This one is wooden, and survives from the 14th century!)

This elaborate, flame-motif bowl is from 3000-2000 BC.

Obviously, they had plenty of stunning paper- and fabric-based art, like this 16th-century panel from the tale of a sparrow who became a monk...

...and this gorgeous screen painted with the 4 seasons, from the 15th century.

And, of course, actual samurai swords. Plenty of them. (This thing is from the 13th century).

Also a bounty of other arms and armor, like this laced helmet from the 14th century. (It was incredible to me how many absolutely ancient pieces they had here in such stunning condition.)

Ok, fine. Clearly, it wasn't a total loss. In fact, I regret that we didn't have more time to spend there...I just wish we hadn't been misled. Twice.

Dinner on this evening was at a really nice sushi place with a really friendly and fun chef, and with a former co-worker of Mike's who's an absolute hoot, but maaaaan, it just wasn't Fukuzushi...so we were quite pleased afterwards when our final, final choice of the trip--a cocktail omakase at Gen Yamamoto--turned out to be stellar. We got to pick how many (tiny) cocktails we wanted, and then the ridiculously knowledgeable bartender made our various drinks with interesting boozes and delicious fresh ingredients in season from the market. Which, on our particular evening, included physalis, apple, grapes, wasabi, prune, sour plum, shiso, kabosu, pumpkin, and green tea (and some really different and tasty Japanese alcohols).

Along with the delicious flavors, the presentation was beautiful (and wonderfully minimalist). What a treat.

And with that, it was time for us to say goodbye to Japan, which I was very much not ready to do. I, a perennial homebody who's generally ready for my own bed/shower/cats by the end of day 3, was not ready to leave: I needed at least another week. That was well over two months ago, and the place is still in my mind and my heart...and is not likely to vacate any time soon. I attribute that to the beauty of the country and the culture; the insanely good food; the simultaneous, and mysterious, foreignness-yet-familiarity that made me crave more; and, above all, the graciousness of the Japanese people. What wonderful hosts, and what an extraordinary place.

Yeah, I'm gonna go there: domo arigato gozaimasu, Japan. I hope we meet again someday.

And, on an entirely unrelated note: happy holidays to you, my friends. May you have peace and joy and good friends and great food, wherever this season finds you.

*It's the last three seconds of this video. Now imagine a 70,000-plus stadium crowd making this noise. At first, I'm pretty sure we all thought, "Is this racist...?" But we figured if our Japanese hosts were going to encourage us to do this, then we'd go along. And now we have a magnet of this face on our fridge, because it's such a good reminder of the spirit of the games: distinctly Japanese in setting and culture, and everyone joining in to appreciate that. (That's how it felt, anyway. Both our hosts and the rugby crowds were just so warm and congenial.)