Over the course of two nights in Kyoto, I walked 45 miles around the city . . . mostly up and down the Kamo River near my hostel while on the phone with Leila and Alayna and Julia. I spent four days there, but I left the city and went back to Tokyo as soon as I woke up this afternoon . . . I felt too isolated there. My little tatami bunk at the hostel, while comfortable enough, was essentially a glorified coffin . . . every time I woke up inside of it, I was filled with utter terror. After nearly dying in a plane crash off the coast of Japan and ending up in a Tokyo emergency room because of an accidental overdose last week, the last thing I need is the old “waking up in a coffin” sensation. Don’t get me wrong: this hostel was clean and modern and well-run, but it was a lonely place. I hardly ever saw anyone in the bathrooms or halls or common rooms, though I did sometimes hear them, and this almost made it worse. I felt the presence of others but was alone, which left me with a haunted feeling. It amplified my loneliness. I did not like it. So I left.

And so at four in the afternoon, as the winter sun was sinking behind the three mountains which encircle Kyoto, I walked to the main train station downtown and bought a one-way shinkansen ticket for Tokyo. A nice dude at the JR counter got me an aisle seat near the front and everything. Onboard I sat down next to a Yaukuza-looking dude and within seconds we took off headed east and rocketed through the snowy Japanese countryside, which by then was bathed in an eerie blue evening light. We stopped in Nagoya and Shin-Yokohama and finally Shinagawa Station in Tokyo. From there I took the Keikyu line eleven stops to Ueno. Upon weary legs I ascended the stairs of Kuramae Station and entered nearby FamilyMart to load up on mineral water and green tea and rice balls and hot-spring-boiled hardboiled eggs. Before I left for Kyoto, I had been going to this particular FamilyMart every morning and every evening for two weeks straight . . . it felt good to return to it. The old guy at the register spoke perfect English and I told him so. Thirty seconds later I was once again SWADDLED in the WARMTH of my old hostel. The cafe was dimly lit and people were eating dinner. The guy behind the counter handed me a clean towel and said: “Welcome back, Ryan.”

Here are some pictures I took in Kyoto during my long walks:

It is 4:22 am here in Tokyo, which means it is my 38th birthday. Good-night! ☆彡