Today we hired bikes and cycled around Kyoto to see as many temples as we could find. Cycling was amazing, mainly because you have to cycle on the pavement, and you apparently have to go as fast as you possibly can, with pedestrians leaping out of your way when you ring your bell (although ringing your bell is seen as a bit rude, so there are lots of near crashes.)
We started at one enormous, beautiful, incense-filled building and cycled around 10 miles until we'd seen many more. The golden pavilion was stunning in the winter sunlight, although much more touristy than the others. You have to walk a certain route, and it's hard to mill around and take it in.
As the sun was going down we pulled up outside a very arty looking cafe at the top end of Kyoto. We wandered in, took our shoes off and sat on the floor in the back room on cushions. It was only then that I realised how shocked our host looked. He was a quiet Japanese man with earrings and bleached hair. He stared at us in silence for a while (as I scanned the room to make sure this was actually a cafe and not just his lounge) until I suggested some drinks. He disappeared for about an hour, before coming through with our order, still looking very confused indeed. He then sat with his back to us and stared out of the cafe window, chain smoking. We sipped our coffees and read a few books, both now convinced that this was his house and that we should leave. It was a crazy place: artwork made from crushed tin cans covering the walls; antique toy and books in every corner; photos of his friends and family; a laptop; a kitchen; a sign saying 'this is not the cafe, please go next door...'
On our final evening we sat in a local bar, sipping plum wine and feeling very chilled indeed. Claire did some writing and I had a crack at some manga (when in rome!), we both decided that we'd like to come back here for a longer time to work and chill some more.
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