Despite the elevation, however, there wasn’t a lot to see because of the barriers on either side of the track. There was, predictably, even less when we met with trains heading in the opposite direction. I did, however, manage to recognize the river we crossed on the outskirts of Osaka, which we reached a quarter of an hour after leaving Kobe.
While we were travelling much faster than I’d become accustomed to on the commuter services, things seemed much less blurred as we went past, presumably because the buildings were below us rather than flashing past at eye-level.
And very peaceful travelling it was, sitting back in airline-style seats with the sort of leg room you might get in business class (if you’re lucky) with something pleasant to listen to:
five minutes out of Kyoto on shinkansen
timeless rice paddies amidst scattered timber houses
john fahey steamboat gwine ‘round the bend
on iPod.
Fourteen minutes after Osaka, we were disembarking in Kyoto.
The next service, which would carry us on to Kanazawa, wasn’t shinkansen-flash, but was comfortable enough, with comparable leg room. Once we’d boarded I watched through the window as the platform supervisor (I assume the guard was at the rear of the train) performed some arcane bi-directional ritual to indicate our departure.
And, once underway I realized what I’d been missing all morning. There was none of that click-clack Australian rail commuters experience as the wheels cross the slight gaps between one section of rail and the next.
Mind you, if they did exist, at shinkansen-speed they’d probably sound more like machine-gun fire, which probably explains why they don’t (exist, that is).
On the way out of Kyoto we ran into the same patchwork landscape I’d noticed before, a quilt of factories, houses, light and heavy industry, an occasional farmlet, and the odd timeless graveyard.
Interestingly, almost every stream we crossed seemed to have been carefully channelled, and as I looked back over the previous couple of days I couldn’t remember seeing a stream with banks that weren’t lined with bricks, stone or concrete. I was also bemused by the fact that many seemingly old, traditional houses were sporting reverse cycle air-conditioning units and even satellite dishes.
As we moved into forested slopes above farmland, the villages became increasingly scattered between flooded paddy fields. By ten-thirty we had glimpses away to the right, more or less in the direction we were headed the following day.
As we neared Kanazawa we’d passed through the central mountain chain, and it seemed considerably cooler than on the other side of the divide. I guessed that the weather on this side of the country was influenced by the colder air emanating from the depths of continental Asia whereas the eastern coast was, I suspected, influenced by a warmer ocean current, much as the Gulf Stream moderates temperatures along the eastern coast of North America as far north as Newfoundland.
It may have been the haze I’d noted throughout the past few days but the air looked colder, particularly as I gazed off towards the mountains where we were headed tomorrow.
Once we’d arrived and found our way out of the station, we had a slight problem finding the night’s hotel, passing the street where it was located and thinking it was a minor lane-way too insignificant to feature on the street map. But eventually we realized we’d gone way too far, backtracked, found it, deposited the suitcase and headed off in search of lunch before we set off seeing the sights.
In between the hotel and the station complex, the Forus shopping centre featured a whole floor of restaurants, so it seemed the right place to direct our attention. After completing a circuit of the floor in question we opted for the G&O (Gumbo & Oyster) Bar.