In the heart of downtown Kyoto, mere steps from the grounds of the old Imperial Palace, a narrow stone-paved alley runs through a pocket of historic homes. There’s an undeniable magnetism to this old lane lined with small wooden houses, where neighbors are like family and nostalgia for simpler days hangs in the air. Traffic noise from a busy adjacent avenue is barely audible, and only the occasional passerby from the nearby subway station reminds us that this is in fact modern Kyoto, not the ancient capital of centuries past.
It was in this liminal space between worlds that Christopher
