Dawn, it’s a mystical beast that robs you of your deepest dreams. I dare not wake the little sleeping Giant next to me… Oh well it’s a holiday and we can’t miss a moment. I donned my Kimono and carefully drew back the curtains. Light pierced the room turning night into day in an instant. The growly giant started to moan, “I’m sleeping”. It was morning and 7.30am is a perfectly reasonable time to get up, but not if your name is Elena and you are married to a time freak like me. The now raising growly giant joined me for breakfast and green tea. Sipping from the tiny bowls that represented small cups with no handles we chatted about the day’s activities, most of which involved more walking. My back was still a little sore from the day before but I was determined to see as much of Kyoto as I possibly could.
After carefully pawing over a local subway train map we walked the 100 meters from our hotel around the corner to the subway station. Descending into a tiled, clean and organized rail system we were impressed. My only complaint was the wind that seemed to blow down the stairs from the street above like we were standing in a wind tunnel of a car companies testing facility. Only three stops to our first historic sites.
Nijo – jo Castle was constructed in 1603 as the residence of Tokugawa Ieyasu. Ninomaru Palace (a National Treasure), built in the shoin-zukuri (library-style) of samurai of the Momoyama Period, contains gorgeous paintings on the walls and sliding doors. It was here that the last shogun, Tokugawa Yoshinobu, restored the emperor to his ancient seat of power in 1867. Located at the site of the former Honmaru Palace, destroyed by fire in the 18th century, is the actual Honmaru Palace (an Important Cultural Property), which was moved from the former Katsura-no-Miya Palace of the Imperial Palace, preserving the dignity of the original detached palace.
Walking the grounds was spiritually breath taking. The castle was constructed in typical military tradition with both an outer and inner moat system. The floor of the grand castle was carefully designed to “sing” with the sound of a nightingale should anyone try to walk on the floor. At night this proved as a deterrent for enemy feudal lords and their worriers. Tried as I may I could not escape the sound of the nightingale.
The Bonsai within the garden grounds were hundreds of years old and with great manicuring and ample supports to ensure that these national treasures will survive for future generations.
Midday was fast approaching and the thought of food was again on our minds. After getting our bearings and almost heading on the wrong direction we walked back to town. We meandered through central Kyoto, becoming more familiar to the central streets, the almost mall like Teramachi Street providing us with a doughnut shop for lunch. Confused about table manners we waited until others were leaving their paper cups and boxes on the table in traditional western fashion.
We thought that since we had braved the subway it was time to try a local bus. The difference between a train and bus is not the fact that on rides on rails but mere the fact that on a bus EVERYTHING is in Japanese! And we had to listen carefully for our stop compounded with the stress of not knowing what to do. Booking a ticket was rather simple – pay as you get off the bus.
We traveled for 20 minutes to another of Kyoto’s wonders.
Kinkakuji (Golden Pavilion) is a Zen temple formally known as Rokuonji. In 1397 construction started on the Golden Pavilion as part of a new residence for the retired shogun Ashikaga Yoshimitsu. Kinkakuji was converted into a Zen temple after Yoshimitsu’s death in 1408. The Golden Pavilion functions as shariden, housing sacred relics of theBuddha and is covered in gold leaf. The present building dates from 1955 as the pavilion was burnt by a fanatic monk in 1950.
Kinkakuji (Golden Pavilion) is a Zen temple formally known as Rokuonji. In 1397 construction started on the Golden Pavilion as part of a new residence for the retired shogun Ashikaga Yoshimitsu. Kinkakuji was converted into a Zen temple after Yoshimitsu’s death in 1408. The Golden Pavilion functions as shariden, housing sacred relics of theBuddha and is covered in gold leaf. The present building dates from 1955 as the pavilion was burnt by a fanatic monk in 1950.
Hundreds of people crowded the viewing area jostling for a position to capture the one shot that would symbolize their trip to this the most tranquil temple in all Kyoto. We managed to snap some great pictures here and looking at our photos we look like we are the only ones there. Having to wait and make sure that no one is obstructing our view. The surreal gardens on the temples in Kyoto for me symbolize the mental image conjured up in my mind as to what Japan is all about. I guess when must people thing of Japan there are two thoughts Technology and Tradition. Should you come here my advice is to seek the second.
As we headed away I just had to check out the vending machines and noticed a kiosk selling soft serve ice cream. What a flavour choice, green tea or vanilla. So I decided to order a mix of both. Not bad, I wish we could get this back in Australia. We bussed back to Geon in the centre of town and wandered aimlessly through the streets that were quiet for the late afternoon. Spying a few nightclubs we considered coming back in the evening to check them out. But as we were tired we headed back up the road via Lawson (once again) to or hotel for and afternoon rest.
While in the Lawson convenience store I found a bottle of sweet red wine for $5AUD and a selection of snacks and pastries. The wine was fantastic, I couldn’t tell you what it was or where it was made but for a cheap wine it made for a great aphrodisiac for Elena and it’s best to just leave the story there!
A subway trip two stops bought us into Teramachi Street area for dinner as we crossed the river in foot we turned right into a small narrow ally sheet we had walked down a few days before. Along this small street we found a Russian bar and a mixture if all cuisine with a strong overtone of Traditional Japanese flavour. We were so confused with the choice on offer that we walked the whole street trying in vain to make a decision that would quell the pangs of hunger and feeling of stress now building to the point of senseless argument. Pulling back a rattan sliding door we entered into a small but inviting restaurant offering a selection on crumbed nibbles and salad. The deal was each piece was a set price of $2AUD and you just kept eating until you had filled yourself. Their where crumbed items that were handed to us that I have no idea what there were, but in usual tradition when I travel I ate everything.
After such an ordeal to find somewhere to eat and with the events of the day we were too tired to really seriously look for a nightclub, we convinced ourselves that most would be catering for Japanese people and we would stand too much. It was time to head home via the subway.
