🚄 Day Five & Day Six – July 16th and 17th - Business Class Bliss, Backpacker Beds, and Bamboo Dreams (That Drowned)
- majordetourllc
- Jul 21, 2025
- 5 min read
Let me start by saying this: I plan amazing vacations. Like, color-coded spreadsheet, backup-activity-for-every-weather-scenario, TripAdvisor-review-reading kind of planning. I’m that girl. The one who finds the perfect hotel, builds the dream itinerary, and executes it with military precision.
But… this one? Yeah. This one got away from me. Kyoto, you beautiful, chaotic, un-air-conditioned heartbreaker—you won.
🧳 What Was Supposed to Happen:
July 16
Hotel breakfast
Bullet train to Kyoto
Gion District, Nishiki Market
Temple visits
Dinner at a cool local izakaya
Early night for a big sightseeing day
July 17
Sunrise at Arashiyama Bamboo Forest
Monkey Park
Last-minute street food crawl
Train to Kansai Airport
Fly to Okinawa at 4:30 PM
Sunset on the beach, toes in the sand
🎢 What Actually Happened:
Day Five – July 16
We woke up early, skipped our New Sanno hotel breakfast (because no amount of hunger justifies gray scrambled eggs), and headed straight to Tokyo Station.
Here’s where the unraveling began. We couldn’t figure out how to buy train tickets. No one spoke English. The station was chaos. Michael ended up nodding through the ticket counter conversation and just saying yes to whatever was offered. Ten minutes later, we were sprinting through the terminal and found out—surprise!—he booked us Business Class.
And honestly? Thank God. That train ride was the only truly calm moment of the day: cool, quiet, comfortable. Free drinks. A hot towel. I think I almost cried. Michael usually pinches pennies so hard Lincoln screams, so the fact that we stumbled into luxury by accident was… divine intervention.
After 2.5 hours, we arrived in Kyoto, dropped our bags at the hotel (not ready yet), and hit the scorching streets in search of food and culture. We found ramen. That’s it. No temples. No shrines. No Gion District geisha sightings. Just heatstroke, closed restaurants, and a Nike store.
Our hotel finally let us in, and it turns out I accidentally booked us into the Kyoto version of a European backpacker hostel. Tiny rooms, zero amenities—but amazing location. So I told myself it was intentional… because we’re “travelers, not tourists.” Right? Right.
Dinner? A quirky yakiniku joint with CO2 tanks under the table and trays from 1984. It was weird but kind of perfect. Slade ate enough beef to qualify as a competitive eater. Then we capped the night at Big Garage Darts where Tara crushed the scoreboard and I learned there are apparently international live-stream dart tournaments?? Japan stays one step ahead.
We stumbled back to the hotel and collapsed, wondering how we’d spent an entire day in Kyoto… doing almost none of the things we came for.
Day Six – July 17
We had one goal: get to Arashiyama Bamboo Forest before our flight to Okinawa. One last chance to check something—anything—off the itinerary.
But the weather and the universe had other plans.
It was pouring rain. The streets were lined with people. Apparently, we had landed smack in the middle of one of Kyoto’s biggest parades. It was beautiful. It was magical. It was also… completely derailing our morning.
By the time we got back to the hotel and mapped out our route to Kansai Airport, it was already too late. We needed three train transfers and two+ hours of travel time. It was 11:30. The forest? Not happening. The monkeys? Never met them. My heart? Slightly broken.
This was the moment the guilt kicked in hard. I pride myself on being the ultimate travel coordinator—the family’s MVP of Memories. And yet, we had basically spent two straight days in motion—trains, Ubers, luggage schlepping, rain dodging—and had nothing to show for it except blisters, ramen, and a $600 bullet train receipt.
We made it to Kansai Airport (which, plot twist, is on a man-made island), only to find out we were too early to check in. So we did what any emotionally fragile, travel-weary Americans would do: we hit the food court. Slade got sushi. Michael and Tara got ramen. I ordered McDonald’s in Japanese on a touchscreen like a boss. And it hit the spot.
Then… bam. Text message. Flight canceled. No plane. No backup.
Jetstar offered rebooking options and hotel vouchers—if we stayed with them. But the next flight was the following day, included a layover, and took 12+ hours. I tried to book another airline. It sold out mid-checkout.
Michael booked us two rooms at the airport hotel (the last two rooms available). I found a nonstop flight for the next morning at 8:05. We turned what should’ve been a frustrating travel fail into a quiet night of vending machine coffee, long showers, and actual rest.
And in that moment, somewhere between exhaustion and surrender, I realized: This wasn’t the trip I planned. But it’s becoming the trip I’ll never forget.
🛏️ Final Thoughts Before Okinawa
I overplanned. I underestimated. And I dragged my family through two days of nonstop motion, chasing a checklist we never even came close to completing.
But here’s the thing: When I look back on this trip in five years, I won’t remember the missed temples or the lost bamboo photos. I’ll remember the rain-soaked parade. The laughter in the darts bar. The unexpected Business Class peace.The McDonald’s order that actually came out right.
Because maybe the memories I planned aren’t the ones we were meant to make.
Thanks for taking this detour with us.Tomorrow: Okinawa—take two. For real this time.
Kolleen
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