Traveler be warned! You will get lost in Venice. With names sounding alike to non-native speakers, bridges everywhere, and one canal after the next, it is easy to get lost. Thank goodness for GPS. Hah! I still find myself laughing at how there are some things I have taken to wholeheartedly in this modern time. I do not travel anywhere without my iPhone. Yes, some may choose to disparage my honor by poking fun at this, but I ask you, is it foolish for a warrior to use the tools and weapons at his disposal? We did not hesitate when Masamune perfected the samurai sword, when we mastered the arquebus, so why should there be shame that I travel with my iPhone? It kept me from getting lost and falling in these accursed Venetian canals.

I never really learned the answer to this, but perhaps my readers can answer this for me? What is with all the pigeons in Venice?

This city is blessed with the most luxurious spa baths I have encountered on my journey. Ahh, this hot bath soaks into these old warrior’s bones nicely. The water from these baths come from the well capped at the Heroes’ Square. I suppose there is one positive thing being atop a tectonic plate prone to earthquakes. We know this well in Japan.

As I wander through the city, a loud boom rocks the quiet afternoon and before I knew it I had my sword out and was running to the source of the commotion, preparing for battle. Imagine my embarrassment when I arrive and all it was, was a display of horseman cracking their mighty bullwhips for the tourists outside the Fisherman’s Bastion. I sheath my sword and talk to one of the locals. Hungarian soldiers were recognized as some of the greatest horsemen in the world and would crack these mighty bullwhips in battle.

Budapest is a beautiful, beautiful city, and as I walk through the city at night marveling at the lights,, museums, and other art houses, I am content. I am learning much about history, culture, and engineering, but wonder if these are the things Sensei meant for me to learn on this journey.

This horilka and meduvuha/medovukha, these are a man’s drink. Full of fire and warmth as it goes down. I must remember discipline or I will find myself drunk..shameful for a samurai warrior. I appreciate this protocol the Ukrainian show when toasting to each other. Very proper and respectful. First to the occasion. Then to friends. To the women. To the men. To parents. To children. Some toast to love. This is good and proper.

My hosts bring me to their “secret place,” kryivka. We are greeted by a weathered veteran who says something in Ukrainian to my host. I have been prepared ahead of time with the proper password response. After a brief toast of their wonderful meduvuha a secret passageway is revealed behind a bookcase and we descend into an underground entrance. I am told that during war times, these “secret places” held supplies and ammunition for their soldiers and were scattered throughout the countryside. The password ensured only the proud sons and daughters of Ukraine could enter. Very smart tacticians. Now in times of peace, these have become popular gathering places for the youth to socialize. Again, I am treated to rounds of meduvuha and raucous patriotic songs.

I think back further–it is still strange to think of the years after my time “backwards”–and I imagine the fierce Ukrainian Cossack, with his oseledets blowing in the wind astride his horse. These Cossacks, “free people,” followed not long after my time and had a code of honor which seems akin to my own bushido, the way of the Samurai warrior. The Cossacks did not fight for dreams of wealth, but valued loyalty and freedom above all else. They would never leave a comrade in peril. Indeed, these are traits that would fit nicely within bushido. I wonder if this is part of the lessons Sensei told me I must learn on my journey.