Family Lore
When you think of Kyoto, Japan — you think of a “hamburg(er)” restaurant decorated like an Alabama southern cookin’ joint playing “You make me wanna roll my windows down” to a host of empty booth tables, right?
Pass the fried chicken. Seriously. At Kyoto’s Bukiri Donkey restaurant.
That’s where we were last night on the final moments of an epic, three-country journey in three days — China to South Korea to Japan.
W’s luggage was flagged — and wrapped in an unbreakable alarm gizmo, a little bit like a car boot — because of a nerf gun packed inside. We rode a grand total of five train-like vehicles — a mag lev train in China, a people mover in South Korea, a “regular” train in Japan, a bullet train in Japan … and then finished off with a Japanese subway ride. (We had Subway sandwiches for dinner, standing over our luggage in the terminal of Nagoya’s Chubu Centrair Airport.) No luggage was lost or missing. We opened some airplane sickness bags for real — thankfully, for naught.
The trip tested us — still testing us, as we’re still a bit testy. And it apparently rains in Japan.
But we made it. We’re making it. We’re already remembering bits from our journey over the last few days with giggles. The boys are sleeping now. We’re in a beautiful guest house a few minutes walk from the old temples of The Philosopher’s Walk. S and I are making final plans for South Korea. We read Chapter One of “The Last Battle” tonight from the Narnia series.
And — moment by moment — we’re building a grand story.
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