Riding Bikes in Kyoto

What a gift Remote Year is, challenging you to live each and every day so fully, you can’t imagine tomorrow could get more wonderful and awe-inspiring.

And yet? It always does.

Like today, where I woke up hungover from a day of temple visiting and a night of bar hopping in Kyoto, from an alcoholic juice bar and a gin hot spot to an Irish pub. Determined to savor every second even with a headache, I took a cab whose doors open on their own, using Google translate to articulate my address, to meet my friends for acai bowls.

After catch-up and coffee, we wandered to find a bike shop, bargaining our way into red, yellow and blue bikes, just the colorful combo we wanted. So proud of becoming bike moms, we took an hour-long joy ride to see Fushimi Inari-taisha at dusk. Along the many detours and wrong turns, we laughed and named our “babies”, stumbling across markets and craft stores, where I found a hand painted Japanese mug to add to my world collection.

Hungry from the ride (and tempted from the aroma) we nibbled on chargrilled mochi, rice balls with wasabi mayo and fried cheese sticks, each bite better than the last. We made a wish at the temple with a lucky 5 coin and followed the labyrinth of the orange arches, forgetting we were cold and marveled at the historical energy that trickled our spines. To cap off the day, we biked (and got lost, again) to the hands-down best sushi I’ve ever had at a local shop with no chairs, whose regulars guided us through the menu, introduced themselves excitedly, effortlessly showing us the true heart of Kyoto.

Thank you RY – and especially Yugen – for teaching me how truly magical life can be, with a little bravery, a lot of curiosity, much flexibility and an insatiable desire to learn.

Oh, and of course, to love the privilege that is being alive. In every country, every city, every continent, everywhere and every damn day.