Just like American cats, Japanese cats frequently eat butt for breakfast. During the day, we stopped by a shop called Country Cat. Strangely, we couldn’t find any butt licking inside. But I suppose we could have brought our own.
We arise to New Year’s Eve morning, eat breakfast, and lay out our battle plans. Breakfast includes cornflakes purchased from a Japanese Seven-Eleven, and some Japanese jam which, despite the diminutive size of the jar in which it is contained, packs exquisite flavor.
Back to the magical streets of Kyoto, we pass along the beautiful Kamogawa River, and are greeted along the way by statues dedicated to authors, actors, and artists of antiquity.
Following our interlude at Nekouan, we ducked into one of the countless tiny restaurants which dot the streets of Kyoto, and sat down for a bite to eat. It’s remarkable how tightly the Japanese manage to pack such spaces, an effect made possible seemingly only by necessity and sheer will.