Japan Airlines was my carrier of choice (again) and our five hour flight consisted of an hour or so of taking off, serving drinks and dicking about; with two hours of breakfast and more dicking about before landing. This didn’t leave much time for sleeping, which was irrelevant anyway because I find it hard to sleep sitting upright. So I was ready for breakfast by the time the lights came on and the trolleys were rolling.
As befitting my new vegetarian status, I had pre-ordered a vegetarian meal. In fact, even back in the days when I would consume half a cow if you cooked it properly, I always ordered vegetarian meals. They always looked more interesting than the standard fare and you were served before the other passengers which always pissed them off; and there is little more pleasurable on a long haul flight than pissing off the other passengers without actually having to remove your trousers and sing loudly in a Greek accent.
I awaited my tasty meat-free treat, but it wasn’t forthcoming. Instead the charming Japanese stewardess (in my younger days I fell deeply and sincerely in love with all stewardesses; unless I was flying with KLM) plonked down a tray of gruel with some soggy bacon on top. With my most winning smile I advised her that I had booked a vegetarian meal.
A look of shock and shame passed across her face. Had she had a tantō knife handy, I fear the bacon could have been joined by assorted innards as her shame inevitably required seppuku.
She apologised profusely. With much bowing and professions of guilt, she whipped away the offending tray of entrails and rushed off to find someone more senior to deal with this serious problem. The next level up in the hostess chain arrived, clutching a print-out and a look of doom. More bowing and apologies and an admission they didn’t have me registered as requiring a special meal. What to do? At this point I suspect I could have demanded we divert to the nearest airfield and pick up supplies involving vegetables; but instead I just suggested they remove the bacon and I would eat the gruel underneath.
No, no no! This would not do for our most esteemed passenger sat in row 56 of cattle class, wearing a grubby T-shirt and a jacket with holes in it. Instead they went away for a while and returned with something that had been extracted from Business Class. A tasty congee soup with expensive ingredients, served in a lovely bowl with solid gold cutlery (I exaggerate slightly). My fellow passengers, who had been following developments closely as they sucked on their greasy bacon, looked very pissed off. Result!
But the crew were not done with me yet. The lady in charge of the cabin staff arrived, with an even bigger sheaf of paper and perfect teeth. More apologies for this most appalling lapse in service. She then knelt next to me and together we recorded the details of my return flight so she could ensure that I did not have to consume Business Class hand-me-downs again. I asked her if the Captain was also going to pop down and offer his apologies. Unfortunately she did not take this as a joke and instead explained that he was busy preparing for landing; whilst inside no doubt thinking “pompous old prick”. Whatever, my vegetarian repast was served without incident on the return flight.
Landed in Kyoto on time (of course) and through immigration quickly, although the immigration chappie did seem to take a long time browsing my details. Perhaps this is why I was stopped at customs. Think about it. Old man, scruffy clothes with traces of congee on his moustache and T-shirt, arriving from Thailand for the second time in three months. DRUG MULE!!
The customs man was very charming. “What do you have in your case sir, just clothes?” I nodded, but once he opened it up it was clearly a lie; for hidden inside a sweater were three chocolate covered bananas and a packet of dried tomatoes. CONTRABAND! “And what is in your hand-baggage sir?”
“A camera. Japanese! Very good!”; thus confirming that I wasn’t carrying a Leica and that I was desperately trying to please.
My suitcase was emptied and every cranny examined. The only object of interest he discovered was a pair of long johns which I had purchased in the event of extreme cold. They fell onto the floor. He picked them up and held them up. How we laughed.
Case re-packed using the same haphazard approach that I had employed when first throwing things into it, I went in search of my ride. I had pre-booked a little van to whisk me from Osaka airport directly to my accommodation, tucked away on the outskirts of Kyoto. Cost was 1,200 baht equivalent for the ninety minute trip and, after a wait of ten minutes, just sufficient for me to pick up a coffee, we were on our way. I was the only passenger and I spread out and enjoyed the free wi-fi while my white-gloved driver negotiated the Sunday traffic and eventually dropped me at Juno’s B&B.
Generally speaking, I don’t like people. Give me a hotel where I can nod gruffly at the doorman and then hide away in my room. But staying at a bed and breakfast meant I would be living in someone’s house, I would be partially sharing their home and would inevitably clash with the other guests as we battled for the usage of the only toilet at peak poo times. What was I doing?
Partly it was a matter of cost; a B&B was the fraction of the cost of a hotel. Plus this one was on the outskirts of town which I thought might be more pleasant than living above the central station. Finally, it had glowing reviews. I will summarise my experience by repeating the review I wrote for Trip Advisor:
During my last trip to Kyoto, I stayed at the five star hotel on top of Kyoto station. Juno’s was nothing like that; and all the better for it.
The location is on the edge of the city and I worried that might be a problem, but it wasn’t. There is a bus stop two minutes from Juno which will take you into the centre, or can serve as a starting point for anywhere you want to go. Unlike the city centre, this part of Kyoto (being close to the university) is well served with small, interesting and inexpensive restaurants. Goya was my favourite. Finally, the location is close to many temples and attractions and there are hours of lovely walks to be had in the area.
Juno’s is nothing like an impersonal hotel. It’s an old, comfortable house with three rooms for guests. My room was spacious and a welcome, warm refuge after a day out in the city in the cold! The (shared) toilet is clean and the shower room is huge with an excellent shower.
Breakfasts are substantial and healthy.
But what makes Juno’s special are the owners, Ian and Sybilla. Ian is an endless source of advice and guidance, and Sybilla offers a perspective on Japan and the world which is intriguing; such that I found that one of my breakfasts extended to two and a half hours of chat! Their daughter Juno is charming. By the end of my six day stay I felt like I was staying with friends, and you can’t wish for better than that.
When I left, Sybilla gave me two pages of links to sites that provide a more truthful view of what is going on in the world than mainstream media. My offering in return was three chocolate covered bananas and a packet of dried tomatoes; no way was I going to carry such dangerous cargo back through Thailand customs.
Back to the first day and duly installed in Juno’s; I set off to explore the city…..
Comments 🔗
2013-11-24| Andrew saysYou ended up staying just south of where I used to live ( up the mountain a bit from Kitaoji-Shirakawa ) - it’s a nice area and a touch cooler ( both summer and winter ) - good walking area ( well, that’s most of Kyoto ) - look forward to seeing the photos from the trip …
2013-11-25| m43user saysinterested in the 2 “pages of links to sites that provide a more truthful view of what is going on in the world than mainstream media” ;o) maybe on a follow-up post?
2013-11-26| Barry saysI once had the pleasure of flying between Tokyo and New York in the company of a Japan Airlines First Class stewardess. We were in cattle class on United, I because of insanity and she because she had used up her free or discounted travel allowance on JAL, going back and forth to NYC to visit her doctor boyfriend. The time flashed by, and she was such charming company I even helped her to her hotel with her luggage before going on to mine.
2013-11-26| Spike saysI believe you, apart from the last five words.