Monday 9th May 2016 (updated)

Back when I were a nipper, I was given a book, a big book of trains from around the world, and on the cover was a Japanese Bullet Train, and I have always wanted to ride one ever since. There is one at the NRM in York, but that doesn't work, so for me, the real highlight of this trip would be riding on a real bullet train. Several times. I was so excited I was vibrating.

After the usual breakfast at the Gate Hotel, we took the Metro to Ueno then the overground line to Tokyo Station, simply re-tracing our steps of two day's before on the guided walk. Heck, we were experienced Metro travellers now, we knew stuff. And after sending the cases on via the courier, we only had either a night case of a bag of camera equipment with us to weigh us down.

And we did it will little problem and with an hour to spare, with the idea that I could snap the bullet trains to death while we waited.

At the Shinkansen platforms, we validate our pass and are let through; we had reserved seats the day before, so we could relax and wait for our train happy that we would have a seat. Which meant I could go to the end of the platforms to take shots. I could also go to the middle and all point between to snap away, Man, it were proper lush. I just knew that me deal old Dad would have loved this, waiting on the end of platforms in Tokyo, waiting for the next Bullet train to either arrive or leave.

Not only was I snapping them, but within the hour, we would be climbing on one to travel south to Kyoto.

At 11:03 we lined up where it said on the platform our carriage would stop, which it did We filed on, slumped into our armchair-like seats, all of which pointed the direction of travel. And we zoomed off, accelerating wat seemed as fast as a Formula 1 car, but this being an 18 coach train. I waited with excitement untol it was time for the train to depart; expecting something sensational, but we didn't even hear the doors swish closed; only with a wave from the guard on the platform, the train pulled away, rapidly accelerating along the platform and out into the grayness outside.

The line weaved through the massive tower blocks we had seen on the previous day, I tried to recognise the World Trade Centre, but it must have looked like any of a dozen other buildings. The suburbs slipped by, then we were in the countryside, nipping in and out of tunnels, past steep hillsides planted with green tea plants.

We stopped at various stations, picking a few more people up, but our coach was less than half full.

Sadly, outside it rained, and so Mount Fuji was hidden from view, we had even been given tickets on the left side of the train so we would be on the correct side for the view. Maybe on our way back? Who knows?

Every time a member of staff came though the carriage, they would stop at the door the other end of the compartment, then and salute; we don't get that on the train up to London back home, I thought. Not only that, they are smartly turned out with white gloves. Smart.

I was happy enough on the train, looking out the window watching the countryside slip by, changing from the urban landscape of Tokyo, to the rolling hills further south and then the endless paddy fields as we neared Kyoto, where we were to get off. It was still pouring with rain, with no views of mountains or volcanoes; mores the pity.

We arrive at 14:00, and right away find somewhere to have lunch; a noodle bar on the station, which again was very good indeed as it was more noodles and tempura prawns. We order by pointing at pictures on the menu, then pay by thrusting wads of notes at the lady behind the till. She bows. We bow. We all bow.

We find the taxi rank and show him the address to the hotel, so we set off into the drizzly grey weather. and the heavy traffic, in which we crawled to the centre of town and our hotel.

We have no trouble in checking in, and our cases were waiting. Jools decides to do some washing as the wash room is one our fllor, and we had already accumilated several pounds of loose change with which to feed the machines.

With the portable wifi device that the tour company had provided us with, we were able to get online, get the news, check mails ad have the Radcliffe and Maconie show streamed; almost like being home.

So once we had made a coffee, we went out into the early evening to see what was around. What we found was a covered shopping area, several streets in fact, all lined with shops and all having neon signs flashing away. Three guitar shops, two record shops among others.

It was a modern shopping centre, along three covered roads. On one of them there was a temple, just taking up the place where you would expect a shop.

In the narrow streets beyond, we spy a shop selling creme brulee donuts, so Jools and i have one and a coffee, which is just dandy.

We walk back to the hotel under our newly purchased umbrellas, thus keeping dry. It was beginning to get dark, and the neon lights reflected off the road in a most attractive way.

Later in the evening, we decide not to go out into the pouring rain, wandering around a strange new city with little idea of where we would be going, so instead we go to the restaurant in the basement, and order pork or something which should have come with vegetables. It did, but just one mange tout, which counts as one of your five a day; right?.

We round the night off with cards in our room accompanied by cheap local beer bought from a drug store.