Searching for a Needle in a Rice Paddy

Nara's 1300th anniversary was not the only reason I faced down my large mammal phobia. About a year ago, shortly after I took up knitting, Geraldine posted a comment here that's haunted me ever since. She recommended investing in circular needles manufactured by a Japanese company headquartered near Nara, Kinki Amibari, and kindly provided the company's address. When it comes to knitting, Geraldine is one of the two most knowledgeable people I know so I have been anxious to get to Nara ever since she posted that comment.

The knitting gods seemed to be smiling benevolently when Mr. Keeper and I hopped on the Kintetsu Nara train line in Osaka on Saturday morning. Kinki Amibari is located at 4368 Takayama-cho in Ikoma. "There's an Ikoma station about midway between Osaka and Nara!" I chortled gleefully. "We can just hop off the train, buy a set of needles, and then hop back on the train to Nara."

I showed the address to a middle-aged lady outside the train turnstile in Ikoma. She pointed to the east exit and rattled off what I'm sure was very valuable information. We thanked her and marched off in the direction she indicated.

"Did you hear her say busso? We're supposed to take a bus," said Mr. Keeper, a linguistic marvel if there ever was one.

"When people say bus, I hear taxi.  It doesn't matter what language they are using."  Mr. Keeper and I were in total accord and slid into the first taxi in the queue.  We handed the address to the driver.  He called his supervisor, talked at length, and eventually entered the traffic stream.

Twenty minutes later, after three or four more exchanges between the taxi driver and his supervisor, we had left all signs of civilization behind.  "I feel like I'm on one of your Explorer outings," sighed Mr. Keeper.  "Isn't your motto "Getting lost is half the fun'?"  The man has a wonderful attitude, doesn't he?

The taxi driver spotted a ramshackle motorcycle repair shop on the side of the road.  He stopped the taxi and hailed the motorcycle repairman.  The repairman pointed to a nearby hill.  On the top of the hill stood a yellow three-story building with two large letters painted on the wall of the third story.  KA.  Voila!

But, it being Saturday and all, the Kinki Amibari Manufacturing Company was sealed up tighter than a drum. I rattled that door to no avail. The knitting gods might have been smiling at us, but their smiles were the sarcastic, gotcha sort of smiles all my siblings mastered by the age of three.

Sheepishly, we asked the driver to take us back to the train station.

We admired the lovely countryside on our way back to the train station and then forked over 7700 yen to the nice driver. The exchange rate being what it is these days, that was roughly $90.

There is no tipping in Japan. The tipping gods are nicer than the knitting gods.