I’m in Matsumoto now, staying at a ryokan and enjoying the cool, clear mountain air. Yesterday afternoon I checked in, had some tea and a little cake thing at one of those low tables in my room, and went out to dinner at a yakitori place (i.e., meat onna stick, but not at all Dibbler-like). I had an ukokkei rice bowl with local aizujidori chicken, chicken skewers with plum sauce, and shikoasa. There was also something in a small bowl that I couldn’t figure out. Mighta been tofu.

The ryokan is an 80-year-old, three-story house with creaky wooden floors and traditional guest rooms with futons and tatami mats. But it’s not too traditional, because the baths are private and you have your choice of Japanese or Western toilets.

The pillow is odd—it’s filled with rice husks—but not bad, and the futon is quite comfortable. The tatami mats have a nice feel when you walk on them barefoot. I had some trouble with the slippers because they were too big and kept falling off. After reading Dave Barry in Japan, I expected the opposite problem. Now I’ve learned to push my feet through far enough to grip the ends with my toes. American ingenuity!

Culinary note: Shikoasa is described as Okinawan citrus wine, but it tastes more like hard liquor. I had two of them, but still managed to find my way back to the ryokan.