My last day in Kyoto, I saw the mostly worthless (but free) application-required tour of the not-so-old Imperial Palace. Yawn.
More yawns followed during the night bus ride to Tokyo (nobody had a seatmate this time… excellent) and as I staggered through the early morning of Tokyo. In Tokyo, I wandered around Ueno before anything opened and decided I wasn’t up to staggering through a temple district in Asakusa; I went to the airport early. There, the only thing noteworthy was a Japanese crepe. I ate it.
Back in Shanghai, though, back from the abysmally-located airport and checked into my hostel, I am reminded of what makes China a great travel destination for me. Walking down the alley where the hostel is located, I see the tell-tale small wooden baskets that can mean… well, a few things, but I hope they can mean just one thing: jiaozi. And they do. And one basket of eight is 3 kwai—about 40 cents—well under half the cost of, say, a can of Coke in Japan, and about the same cost as that can in China.
And life is good.
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