Tokyo and meeting Katsuyasu

After a lot of prevaricating we succumbed to the glamour of travelling to Tokyo on the famous Shinkansen (or bullet train) despite its uncharacteristically high cost to what we had been used to in Japan. On a journey that would normally take all day on conventional transport, we were in Tokyo in a couple of hours. The scenery along the way was not to be missed with its patchwork of paddy fields, the beautiful Hamana Lagoon, and, of course, Mount Fuji, which was uncharacteristically clear.
Without much difficulty, we obtained accommodation at a cheap Japanese-style guest house, called the "Okuba House", mainly patronised by working men from the country. Mrs Uno's house had partly prepared us for such accommodation, except that this was now patronsied by Japanese and the bathing facilities were Japanese style. With heart in my mouth, I had to line up in the hallway with other naked men to proceed into a large bathroom where we squatted down on little stools side by side and meticulously washed every part of our bodies. Only when this was done was it permissable to soak in the bath at the end of the room. The bath was meant for relaxation and not for cleansing. Self consciously I passed through the ritual of scrubbing myself with the small towel that was provided for both washing and drying, and moved along the stools to the bath. I prayed that I would not commit the unpardonable sin of leaving any sign of my presence in the bath, the water of which would not be changed until the following day. I was so pleased to leave that crowded bathroom. Being the only woman in the guest house, Libby had a bathroom and bath completely to herself, and thought the system was marvellous. With such obstacles overcome, we were able to turn our attention to Tokyo.
Not enough superlatives can do justice to Tokyo. It was big, bustling, exciting and, unfortunately, expensive and polluted. Right in the centre of the city is the imposing Imperial Palace surrounded by an expanse of gardens where we spent many hours.
Tokugawa Ieyasu, the first of his family to rule Japan in the last era of Shogunate power, had built, by the labour of three thousand men supplied by his feudal subordinates, the colossal castle at Edo (Tokyo) where he set up his capital. The inner stone ramparts of this fortress were occupied by the Emperor when he moved to Tokyo in 1868. Within these walls, and the surrounding moat, he had built his Imperial Palace. He would never have guessed that a couple of Australian tourists would one day be coming by underground train to view his mighty work, or would he? Tokugawa Ieyasu was very progressive.
The city train system, both under and above ground, with its many aids for the English speaking tourist, made movement about the city relatively easy. With all this if you should still get lost there was always the ever present Good Samaritan. In this context we had our first meeting with a young man, Katsuyasu, who was to become our good friend. Rushing to complete an errand for work he took time to help us with directions and then disappeared from our lives, or so we thought.
Of the many countries we planned to visit on our travels, the most discouraging of the official representatives in Australia were the British. We were taught in childhood to believe Britain was the old home country. To settle concerns about entry we spent a tiring day tracking down the British Embassy and, after a thorough interrogation of our financial status, we were granted an "Entry Certificate". Exhausted we returned to the "Okuba House" for an early night only to be disturbed by our landlord who indicated that we had a visitor. Hastily pulling on the kimino gown provided by the guest house I went downstairs to be confronted by none other than the good Katsuyasu.
Katsuyasu, an address we rarely used because of the illusiveness of its pronunciation, had tracked us down from our chance dropping the name of our lodgings. To disguise what seemed a characteristic shyness of Japanese in initiating contact simply for friendship's sake, he claimed that he wanted to talk to us so as to improve his ability to converse with Australians who he came into contact with in his job at a travel agency. This request seemed plausible as Katsuyasu, like many Japanese, had a good understanding of English but his pronunciation made him sometimes unintelligible, particularly to us Australians with our own peculiar form of spoken English. As familiarity grew over a cup of coffee, Katsuyasu gave up his pretense of wanting us to correct his pronunciation. He offered to take us on a sightseeing trip to Nikko on Sunday when he would not be working.