Osaka

C and I were eating lunch when the call came in. They had arrived in Osaka in one piece--though Moose left Tokyo with a souvenir of 5 staples in his head. WHA????

We met and checked into a traditional ryokan, or, Japanese style hotel. Instead of the standard double bed, bolted down lamp, bad art on the wall and Gideon bible in the drawer, a ryokan boasts tatami mats, a low kotatsu, rice paper screen doors and folded futons in the closet. There are also yukata in the drawers in varying sizes. As you can see, Mike put his on immediately—over his clothes.



Having sung the praises of a ryokan, I neglected to mention that they are missing one essential amenity: a private shower or bath. Guests at a ryokan must use a shared bath and adhere to the prescribed etiquette. The first thing you must do is pull up a stool and wash yourself three times with water from a basin or tap--the idea being that you should be clean before you soak together in the large bath. Needless to say, the boys caused quite a sensation in the bath, driving half a dozen Japanese men to evacuate before the tsunami of foreign ass even hit the water. Luckily for me, I was the only guest in the Ladies bath and had a wonderfully relaxing soak…