i found the cafe bibliotic hello! mildly overrated but still very enjoyable. wooden loft and wood-shaded hanging lamps above, large shared wooden table, exposed brick works, blooming hydrangea ( sharply defined, ungraded purples) and plenty of glass windows through which, incongruously, banana plants. books line one wall. later on, unexpected pleasure for the colour fiend in me  — the paper napkin for lunch, not white but a muted lawn green, and the one they brought with my lemon tart later, dull red, date-like, of exactly the same tone as the green.

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the things of a semiotic and cross-cultural nature that might be said about this lantern outside an italian restaurant off the nishiki market are almost too many.

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‘closed irregularly’ is an unhelpful way to describe one’s business hours on a website. indeed, without the japanese to ring ahead i arrive one sunday morning at the locked doors of the famed morita washi and balk. the other washi shop, when i’d found it, was called kamiji kakimoto. it sits on teramachi street: not the gaudy, covered arcade that passes through downtown, but the stretch north of city hall, lined with used bookstores and discreet cafes and antique shops, including a florist to rival petali in the holyoke.

enter to the faint whiff of fibre, and regard: the texture of paper, the subtle xylophone of colours.

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on the way back from the kamiji kakimoto i pass a french-style boulangerie called liberte with this impeccable french notice in the window.

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a matter of mild regret but not entirely a reason for return: the nara museum, where von tells me i missed seeing the burnt sutras of nigatsu (i had been to todai-ji and seen nigatsu hall, their original home, without being aware of this fact, and in fact passed the nara museum without realising what it was.)

an incomplete but significant reason for return to kyoto: the miho museum was between exhibitions and not open to the public.

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back in the nishiki market some hours later: delicious mini soy donuts, drizzled with brown sugar syrup, and dusted with soybean flour. (also consumed: grilled mochi flavoured with soysauce and coated in peanuts; black sesame paste wrapped in leaf; a custard bun much like the sort chinese dimsum places call 奶黄包; warabi mochi in a cup - glassy and sweet.)

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the tea at yamadasiya, bought entirely on faith, brewed jewel-green and was fragrant to the last sip.

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