Tomorrow they would be off by train to Kyoto. It was quieter and less intense there. He would definitely have the “talk” in Kyoto.
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The Kyoto experience was very different. It was as though they were in a different country. A loud, lively, and bright metropolis was exchanged for a quiet living museum. Anson had selected an exclusive ryokan—similar to a small old boutique hotel, but totally in the Japanese tradition—for Kyoto was the ancient capital of Japan and held much of its ancient imperial treasures and ancient architecture. The train arrived on time (of course) and they traveled to the guest house. When they arrived, after removing shoes, they were assisted to a reception room where they would leave most of their clothing and luggage (dressing in Japanese style while at the resort). Their room was large, by Japanese standards—six mats—or about 180 square feet. Bedding would be brought in at the appropriate time. The adjacent bath had a glorious natural-looking rain shower with screens that slid back to display a garden. Near the shower, outside on the wooden deck was a deep wooden soaking tub. One wall of screens in the bedroom opened to a well-tended Zen garden, with sand carefully raked into pleasing patterns, “meditation” rocks and exotic plants. Dinner would be served Japanese-style–on low tables with diners seated on cushions. This was a spa designed to achieve relaxation and harmony. Sightseeing would come later when they transferred to the Hyatt.
So each morning was spent with long walks in the gardens, exacting, directed, yoga-like exercise sessions, massages, soaks, skin treatments and the like. The spa was gay-friendly, but not exclusively gay. Activities were directed by both men and women—all beautiful, young and scantily clad in the Japanese servant tradition. It was quiet, meditative and soul-enriching. Anson and Jorge began to understand the power of Zen equilibrium and universal order—as the bedrock of Japanese character. Each to his own place in the cosmos. They enjoyed the respite—and they enjoyed each other, spending many hours in joint company, caressing and loving—but their intercourse was gentle and loving, punctuating the quiet days. Curiously, there was no bottom and no top in these experiences—both were engaged in giving and taking maximum pleasure—and extending the experience as long as possible—often for more than an hour. The Japanese had brought the art of edging to masterpiece level.
Anson had the feeling it was the quiet before the storm. Rested and completely relaxed, they moved to the Hyatt—itself a restrained statement of a hotel—but definitely more Western and at the nexus of modern and old Kyoto.
Two days of intense sightseeing—temples, gardens, castles, museums were interspersed with some tennis and in a spotless and well-equipped Western-style gym. And they were back to a bed, king of course, which they enjoyed each afternoon. In fact afternoon sex, before cocktails, was becoming a steady part of each day. Both were settling into a “couple-routine.”