I arose, and showered in the kitchen. It was actually Hisachan’s birthday that day, but we wouldn’t have much time to celebrate until after we returned to Hiroshima.
We rode our Rocketbikes back through the gathering twilight. One final shrine we visited along the way. Rust-borne, eroding. The abode of an Aragami, a powerful spirit of vengeance.
I tell ya, nothing beats biking down a car-free road with friends. And the roads in Japan, unlike the choppy, litter-filled crap we endure in the States, are in all places smooth, clean, and perfectly maintained. Riding a bicycle upon them is a glory.
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.