First Night in Nikkō

The local train from Utsunomiya to Nikkō was as slow as mud.  After returning to the US, a friend of mine who'd also been to Nikkō a few months prior said that his train too, was the slowest thing he'd ever ridden.  But I digress.  A cartoony map of the Nikkō Line is mounted over the doors in the train.  There are five stops between Utsunomiya and Nikkō--first Tsuruta, then Kanuma, Fubasami, Shimotsuke-Osawa, and Imaichi.  There are icons surrounding the names of the stops, illustrating the attractions in those towns.  At each stop, Japanese schoolkids got on and off the train.  Little did I realize that masses of the uniformed school children would be a common sight throughout the trip.

Finally, at long last, tired and weary from all the travel, we arrived in Nikkō.  A taxi transported us from the small train station to the ryokan.   My plan for the evening was to get a warm shower then go to sleep.

Didn't happen.  I hadn't accounted for the overwhelming Japanese hospitality!

Upon checking in at the Senhime Monogatari Ryokan, the manager sat with us in the lobby to explain every detail of our stay, over a cup of cold tea and some mochi.  We learned the operating hours of the onsen, which door was for men and which was for women, the proper way to wear the kimono to the onsen and to dinner.  We selected a time slot for our dinner seating, a time slot for our breakfast seating, what type of beverage we wanted to have with our dinners and breakfasts, and whether we'd like a Japanese- or Western-style breakfast.  My dinner beverage selection of water, which is actually my favorite drink, wasn't enough--the ryokan manager was too hospitable to let a guest just get water, and he insisted I get coffee or tea or juice.

Since we had Japanese-style rooms, the futon beds were to be laid out while we were at dinner.  So when we finally got to our rooms, we didn't even have a bed in which to lie down!  Exhausted, weary, hungry, and a bit frustrated with the situation, I was not a happy camper going in to dinner.  Luckily we chose one of the earliest dinner seatings.

Dinner, downstairs in the ryokan, was a traditional affair.  We wore our kimono and geta, left the geta at the door (they had cubbies for each room), and were led into a private dining room.  Each private dining room had a rice paper sliding door.  We sat on zabuton on the tatami-covered floor.   Dinner was a formal ten courses.  The day's menu was laid at each place setting.  Every dish was intricately prepared with the freshest, highest-quality local ingredients.  Yuba, the skimmings from tofu, is a local specialty, and was found in several dishes.  Most memorable was a "five-point piling", which was a set of five pieces of sashimi, each from a different type of fish, artfully sliced and arranged amongst greens on an elevated serving tray.  Tastiest, though, was the Kobe beef shabu-shabu.  Imagine that... the American liked the beef best!

Rice was the last dish to be served at dinner.  That struck me as unusual, as every Japanese restaurant I've been to in the States serves rice with the meal.  This was definitely the tastiest rice I've ever had.  The rice in Japan is just better than in the US.

After our two-hour dinner, I finally got my shower, had a refreshing glass of iced water (the housekeepers leave a pitcher in the room when they set out the futon), then fell into a much-needed slumber.