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Spindle: At most tourist attractions we had visited so far, the principal languages provided were Japanese, English, Chinese and Korean in that order. Domestic tourism is as lively in Japan as in any other large country, but it is the Japanese ponies' views and uses of English that tickle my ears.

In particular, certain English words like "new", "cool" and "open" have entered the vernacular Japanese lexicon, either as-is or transcribed into katakana. They don't see it as a watering-down of their language, but rather as a spice giving "sophisticated" flavour, all while the average grasp of general English remains relatively poor, which I find ironic. In a rush to embrace the world, do they understand what they're dealing with?

Parcly Taxel: Translation of Japanese text is now much improved, however. From the tallest tower to the smallest stall, you can expect the strings to be accurate, concise and above all understandable.

Spindle: Acknowledging the drudgery of work, the Japanese love out-of-the-ordinary challenges of all sorts, and now we would go on one ourself. There is a restaurant, Steak Otsuka, only open for 2.5 hours from 11:30 each day, and not at all on Thursday and Sunday. Waiting times of up to two hours have been experienced. My mouth was watering, so off we went…

Parcly: The two-day pass I had bought for Kyoto did not cover JR lines, but a standard ticket of ¥240 to Saga-Arashiyama (佐賀嵐山) from the central terminal was cheap enough. Arriving ten minutes before opening, the patch of waiting chairs was close to overflowing with ponies, and we entered ninth on the waiting list. Had we caught the previous train, we would very likely have sunk our teeth in much sooner.

Instead, we found ourselves the first group left outside after the initial bunch populated interior seats. "Never mind, we're up next, this shouldn't take long!" Except that an additional clause was present: the place would close as soon as they ran out of stock. I had snagged a similar early-bird meal at Lake Toya, but could I do it here within metropolitan confines?

Spindle: A windigo's field of vision is larger than a pony's, but split into two. The edges are blurry, meant for identifying targets during a hunt, while a narrow centre strip allows clinical precision in handling the prey itself, being limited only by diffraction.

While our stomachs rumbled, I had a look around. The restaurant is at the end of an alley terminated by railway tracks. Bicycle parking lies on the opposite side, bordered by rotting wooden beams that give way to sheet metal. The soundscape, besides chatter from waiting ponies, is dominated by passing trains and chirping birds. If it was hot and popular inside, it was cold and somewhat unsettling outside.

Parcly: Eventually, it came! I walked into perfect arrangements of cushions on heated floors, placing my order as soon as I was seated. The A5 steak I got sizzled with its juices, remaining soft and consistent after the sizzling stopped. Paired with a thick sauce, various vegetables and rice, I could feel the steak creeping into my dreamspace even with eyes open.

Perhaps that was my day already.

Applejack: At lunch? Taking a siesta in the cold? Are you a wishy-washy alicorn wasting in eternal comfort?

Parcly: I was joking. Actually, let me tweak a few neurons… there.

Applejack: So where did you go afterwards?

Parcly: Around Arashiyama and through its bamboo forest. The trees are taller and fresher than similar examples I've seen in Taiwan, and any excess growth is cut down to demarcate the trail's sides. A few temples and shrines are nearby, such as Nonomiya (野宮神社), but we deferred the cultural sightseeing to later.

The trek helped digest whatever food was in my belly. With afternoon in full swing, I returned to Enmachi Station (円町) and then took a bus to Rokuon-ji (鹿苑寺), another component in Kyoto's World Heritage Site system.

Princess Celestia: This place is also known by its star attraction, the Golden Pavilion or Kinkaku (金閣寺). True to its name, its second and third storeys are coated with gold foil shining as bright as my sun above a sky-blue lake, with islands and pure rocks poking holes in an otherwise flawless fabric to suggest a rock garden. The ornament at its pinnacle is a phoenix, the same species as my pet Philomena.

Such is its positive radiance that among the ashes of a great war a monk burned it down, then attempted to burn himself along with it. He failed in the latter and was banished for arson; the pavilion was rebuilt within five years.

To the genie of the moon, surely you weren't feeling full after completing a full tour of the premises?

Parcly: It did start to set in by sunset, yeah?

Celestia: Teehee. I can tell you collapsed on your bed after so many hours rocked in crowded buses and across photo spots.

Parcly: Drifting towards my dreamscape, I asked Spindle to bring me dinner from a store of her choosing. She returned with a beef burger and onion rings, which recalled the steak I'd been conditioned to. It induced enough salivation in my mouth that I woke up without any intervention and chomped down on everything.

The Keihanshin was often mocked by high-class ponies from Edo before the Meiji Restoration. Those from Kyoto, for example, ruined themselves by their dresses – the mesmerising kimonos I encountered, among others. Those in Osaka, the last city on my itinerary, ruined themselves by their food. Such preconceptions persisted for some time in my mind, but I switched them off, one by one, leaving Luna centred in my third eye.

Upvotes at import: 13 | Stars at import: 10
Posted previously at: 2017-12-20T15:39:00 | Posted previously by: Parcly Taxel