JAPAN

I long wanted to go to Japan.  Cherry blossoms, ancient bonsais, breathtaking texture of their formal gardens, Mt. Fuji, sushi, temples, Roppongi’s night life. Ginza’s elegance. Bright sashimi from the sea.  They all shone.

We traveled by boat around the southern tip, starting in Tokyo, and touching the “must see” places like Kyoto, Osaka, Nagasaki and Hiroshima, with a side train ride to Seoul.  Temples were always chief on our itinerary.  But as a secular kind of guy, I reach my limit after two days.  Say, one.

My favorite memories were a Kabuki  performance, walking through Tokyo’s Tsukiji fish market—-and eating some of the freshest dishes I have ever put chopsticks to.

The Japanese were much less engaging.  It’s an island nation which has little interest in  things foreign—-languages, immigrants, cars, food.  It must be the most homogeneous,  driven, tradition-bound, regimented people in the world.  The metaphor was watching a corporate boss, followed, like ducklings, by his subordinates, all dressed identically—-white shirts, dark suits.