Yesterday I made reservations to go to Hiroshima on the wrong day, so we started the outdoor portion of today with catching the sparsely packed subway to the station where we had another round of beignets and exchanged our ticket for Thursday. The weather has turned cold and the tables and chairs beside the Cafe du Monde stand have heaters and blankets. No one is worried that either of these things will be stolen by members of the public.

And since it was daylight and we had a full day, it was a good time to show Andrew this crazy train station. We took the escalators all the way up to the roof and gazed in all directions from there and especially so at the magnificent trainyard and the myriad trains coming and going. The fabulous video arcade that occupied one of the lower floors when I was here in 1998 seems to be gone and I was sad to learn that. An Isetan has filled that side of the station entire except for the small section of food court that leads to the 10th floor catwalk.

Before that, the phone in our room rang to tell us that the bath was ready and we scrambled to release ourselves from the den of fluff both to answer the phone and, in my case, to put in my contact lenses (because I can't do anything without doing that first). Then we shuffled down the hall to the steaming room for a shower and a very hot steep. It was a good way to wake up. When we returned, the futon had been stowed and the table placed where it had been the day before. On our heels, the hostess arrived with tea. A kaiseki breakfast arrived shortly after. Fish and poached egg in broth. Rice and pickes. It was a difficult breakfast for waffle lovers, but delicious all the same. We didn't manage to get out of the building till 10 or so.

First days in a place are good browsing days, so we did that. Caught the train back from the station to Shijo-dori so that we could amble through the Nishiki market. The day sunny and bright and the city palpably slower than Tokyo. It's crowded in spots because the roads are much narrower, but it feels like a small town by comparison.

There were other shops to browse in and stalls of fresh food to inspect, but the main reason for coming to the market was to bring Andrew to Aritsugu. He knew what he wanted, but it still took a long time to negotiate the transaction. No one working that day spoke English except for one of the guys working the knives, so we waited until he finally emerged from behind the counter to help Andrew, and then Andrew gradually obtained the information he needed and chose the knife he wanted. The man sharpened it and showed Andrew how to dry it. Then he wrapped it in the Aritsugu paper and again in a furoshiki. Andrew is ecstatic.

More shopping, up Teramachi-dori to Oike-dori and back down past the really fancy ryokan. We stopped in a tea house called Yukei (located on the south side of the Tawaraya Inn) because it advertised warabi mochi. Real warabi flour is rare, but the place looked fancy enough that it might just be the real deal. Whether real warabi flour or not, the mochi was really bizarre and cool. It was the consistency of lava in a lava lamp and dripped from the finely hewn chopsticks just like that. But it held together so that it didn't fall off the sticks and the sticks didn't cut through it. It was good stuff that we chased with matcha. The interior of the building was new and Japanese modern with an entirely enclosed garden through a huge plate glass window, the garden just big enough for viewing. Older folks were in there drinking tea, wealthy-looking artist types.

More walking north toward the ryokan and the next multicourse dinner and long bath, stopping sometimes along the way. We're only in the ryokan one more night, so why not stay in?