I made it to Nagoya, Japan, just a day late. For the last few days I have settled into the City Hotel while waiting for a room in my apartment to vacate. Approx. 8 X 8 feet not including the bathroom, the hotel room has a door made of metal that even when closed softly smacks into the metal framing causing the sound to ricochet throughout the room reminding me of elementary school and Ms. Propstra (sp?) slamming the door when the class got too loud. The room offers, looking out of two small windows six by eighteen inches, a view of the grey concrete buildings not more than a foot away.

However, I get free breakfast for a week.

This is a landscape made of concrete mountains and valleys, I suppose as most big cities are, interspersed with gardens in the form of parks, extending outward as much as upward. Standing on the observation floor of Nagoya Castle, rebuilt after the 1945 fire that destroyed all but the foundation, I could see the green mountains surrounding the concrete jungle I currently find myself in.

I have said I always wanted to live in a city, a big city. Now, I am there. I think my upbringing in the Southwest U.S., often in the outdoors where while camping I would get lost and by dinner time find my way back, sometimes more than once in a day, has finally taken its toll. After this, my desire to live in a big city may finally be cured.