Using the miracle of the internet I found a large bookstore in downtown Kyoto named "Junkudo", which supposedly had a large gathering of books in English. (I discovered earlier this week that the place I had ASSUMED would have heaps of English books--Kinokuniya Book Store--is closing at the end of this month. Weep for me).
Bob decided to accompany me on this jaunt, partly because most of the journey via bike would be along the Kamo River, and in this newly non-horribly-hot-and-humid-weather, the ride would be pleasant. And he decided to go with me partly because once I got away from the river, there was a high likelihood I'd get turned around and most likely mildly lost. Not that this is a big problem, but it is inconvenient. Especially when one wants to be surrounded by books as soon as possible.
But before I get to the books, a bit of background on why the river is such a big whoop-de-doo:
There is a popular belief that Japanese houses are small. Unless one is reasonably wealthy, this is pretty much true. Japanese houses also have many beautiful sliding doors, which are made out of beautiful things like rice paper and panes of glass and painted wood. Our house has a number of these lovely doors. I personally like these doors very much. I like the way I can take doors out from between 2 rooms and make one big room. I like being able to add doors to make 2 small rooms. I'd have these doors in every place I live from now on except....they are about as soundproof as a coffee filter.
So if one has a noisy hobby--such as playing an instrument or tap dancing--these doors don't do the trick for being soundproof. And since the houses, as I previously mentioned, are small, hobbies that require vast spaces--such as juggling, gymnastics or cheerleading-- can't be done in the average home either.
So where do people go to do indulge in their loud and/or spacious hobbies and favorite activities?
Many of them go to the river.
We rode for about 30 minutes, from our house downtown to the bookstore. Along the way we witnessed a truly amazing array of activity:
Musical instruments being played:
1 ukelele, 3 guitars, 1 slide trombone, 2 shakuhachi, 1 flute, 1 banjo, 1 trumpet, 2 clarinets,
1 harmonica
Sports activities being enjoyed:
soccer, frisbee, juggling, cartwheels, tumbles, fishing, wading, jogging, group dancing, individual dancing, tennis, badminton, skateboarding, roller skating
Herds of dogs being walked:
curly-haired dachshunds, short-haired dachshunds, doberman pinschers (ears down), chihuahuas, small and large poodles, a basset hound wearing a bandana tied around his/her head, making him/her look like a rather round, horizontally positioned old woman, a black and white Australian shepherd, several terriers, a pug, a pekinese wearing a pink and white dress and (drumroll please) an actual honest-to-goodness BOXER.
We saw the boxer as we were riding back up the ramp towards our street from the river path. I thought Bob was going to fall off his bike. Or asphyxiate. Or both.
The older man walking the boxer (whom he introduced to us as "Junie") immediately recognized the glint in Bob's eye, and walked over to us so Bob could pet it. Junie also recognized Bob's enthusiasm and stared unwaveringly at Bob until we got close enough for Bob to do some serious petting. Bob got off his bike and groveled around the dog for a few minutes. The lovely man even let Bob take a picture of Junie.
And, quite obviously, all Bob really talked about on the way home was Junie.
But I digress.
Aside from the musical performances, various sports and vast array of dogs, there were all the usual people enjoying a beautiful early Fall day. Older couples carrying shopping bags, gossiping together. Heaps of young children out with their families. Toddlers and preschoolers wading in the shallows or rolling on the grass. Babies being dangled so their toes touched the water, or being pushed in strollers, their faces reflecting various emotions ranging from enchanted to "Incoming tantrum--brace yourselves". People sat on the many benches, reading or writing, sipping from bottles of cold green tea or nibbling on bentos.
All in all, it made for a lovely bike ride.
We reached our desired ramp up to the main street level and wandered around for a bit, pushing our bikes. Eventually we found the building that housed the bookstore, and then cast about for a place to park our bikes.
It didn't take us long to discover that the riding of bikes downtown is discouraged, as was exemplified by the fact that every spot that could hold a bike had a sign plastered on it warning that bikes would be towed away.
After some fruitless searching, we parked in one of these sign-plastered places anyway, wedging our bikes in between about 30 other illegally parked bikes.
And now you know what comes next.
Yes.
The bookstore.
Okay, it wasn't a Borders superstore, or a massive Barnes and Noble. It didn't have the stock potential of Amazon.com or the quirky, intense beauty of a small locally owned bookstore.
But it was a bookstore.
And up on the 7th floor were the foreign books.
They actually had a respectable collection. Lots of fiction, classics, kids books. A tall shelf of "New Releases. Magazines from the United States, Britain, Australia, France, Germany, Spain and probably a few more places that I couldn't detect in the stacks and piles.
I found a few books I wanted. Then I turned them over and looked at the prices. Then I put them back on the shelves. It was clearly Kindle time.
In the end I got a teachers guide for the Japanese book Patrick and Aya will be using for their Japanese lessons, and I got a book for Patrick from a series he had been reading back in California.
But really, the point was not so much to BUY a book. My point was to be SURROUNDED by books. To pull them out and read their covers and then slide them back again. And to verify to myself that if I DID have a massive and dysfunctional need for a book, I would have somewhere to go for book therapy. (And like all good therapy, it is expensive)
Once we left the bookstore Bob suggested we go have a coffee at Starbucks. This particular Starbucks has a huge deck that hangs out over the river. And so there we sat like actual adults, cool breeze blowing off the nearby mountains, sipping coffee, watching the incredible array of people and sounds and languages that rolled past us, just like the river rolled past us.
And it was good.
The ride home was a bit more taxing and a lot less picturesque than our ride into town. By the time we got done drinking our coffee and had retrieved our bikes, the wind had kicked up to blow in our faces, the sun had lowered and the river paths were packed with people heading home.
As we were.
After a day along the river.
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