Kyoto : Exploring Japans cultural past

Before I knew anything else about Kyoto, I knew this one thing: it was going to be crowded. It is a place that tourists flock to, a place where traditional aspects of Japanese life remain while still having all the conveniences of a modern city... and this can create problems. The locals feel like they can't get away from tourists, in the most popular areas even the tourists feel like they can't get away from the amount tourists. There's hundreds of unique temples dotted around the city that have stood the test of time, but only a handful of these are really talked about and they're just too popular for a more serene visiting experience. We wanted to explore Kyoto, but not feel harried while doing it so maybe a mix of the more popular areas mixed with the lesser know was in order. We'd see.

Our first day in Kyoto was a write off. After my unexpected hospital visit in Nara that morning, then dragging my stuff to the train, then lugging ourselves to the hotel, I was over it. We found ourselves sitting in a 7/11, the rain lashing against the windows as we waited for our check-in time, and all I wanted to do was nap. After buying new umbrellas (our second set of the trip) we headed to the hotel where the kind and efficient staff had already placed our bags in our rooms. I felt bad about wasting one of our few days in Kyoto, but I thought it would be better to rest up and attack sightseeing the next day, hopefully feeling recovered.

We did go out for dinner, walking through covered markets filled with bustling crowds and animatronic crabs to get to our comfort restaurant in Japan, Sushiro. Unlike other branches we'd visited in other cities, this Sushiro was extremely popular and we ended up having to wait over an hour for our table to be called. As always, it was worth it. The food isn't world class by any means, but it's delicious and predictable. The best part? I could order as much sushi as I desired without ever having to interact with another human being - just what i wanted.

Feeling marginally better the next morning, we started our day with a walk to Gion, one of Kyoto's most famous Geisha districts. There a few places in Japan where the traditional life and artistry of Geisha is being kept alive and being passed down to new generations, and in Gion we could experience it... well kind of. As much as you might think that Geisha would welcome tourism and there would be performances left, right and center, the world of Geisha is in fact incredibly secretive and exclusive. The majority of their clientele are rich and influential Japanese businessmen and that's how they'd like it to stay. It's rare to actually even see a "proper" Geisha, and most of the colourfully dressed Japanese girls tottering around in full Kimono, with white faces and elaborately coiffed hair are actually Maiko, girls apprenticed and still honing their art form.

We walked along the river to get to Gion, the sky was overcast and rain threatened, a smattering of warning droplets caused us to get out our brollies before the drizzle would abruptly stop. Despite this, the walk was still pleasant, herons waded in the shallows, locals went about their day, and there was hardly a tourist to be seen. It wasn't the most scenic of walks, but it felt like we were seeing a snapshot into daily life in Kyoto. As we climbed up the stairs to the bridge leading across to Gion this all changed, the pavement was bustling with streams of people, some heading to and from the various entrances to underground train stations but most in the same direction as us. It was time to join the throng.

Gion wasn't what I was expecting. I presumed it would be similar to the Bikan historical quarter in Kurashiki, a perfectly preserved facade with well lit shops and cafes designed to draw in tourists, but it wasn't. The streets around the area had plenty of shops and izakayas, the pathways were crowded and the atmosphere was lively, but "Gion corner" itself was quiet and well lived in. The buildings were uniform in the wood that made them but unique in shape and size, they were well looked after but slightly timeworn and most of all, they were private. Most of the streets had very prominent signs asking tourists to please not take photos - that these were homes not attractions, and as beautiful and photogenic as it was, we had to respect that. As we left the heart of Gion, the signs disappeared and we grabbed what photos we could.

Before leaving the area all together, we made a quick stop in at Yasaka Shrine: one of the most famous Shinto sites in Kyoto. Maybe the weather was keeping people at bay as it wasn't nearly as busy as we expected it to be. Couples wandered the grounds making it obvious it was a popular date spot, and a couple of young girls dressed in Kimono were trailed by photographers looking for the best places to pose. It was certainly charming, but with many shrines under our belt at this point and many to go we only explored for a brief few minutes before finding a spot for lunch.

So far in Japan, besides a few smaller disappointments, the food had been phenomenal and exactly to our taste. This wasn't that. Tenshu is a traditional tempura restaurant that is popular with both locals and tourists, showing good reviews online and making it into many "best places to eat" lists. The restaurant itself it was slightly shabby, the only seating wraps around the tiny kitchen that sits in the restaurants centre. The main focal point in the kitchen was a cauldron size vat of boiling oil, the smell of hot oil filled the room leaving every surface seemingly covered with tiny sticky droplets.

What I learned at Tenshu is that not all tempura is the same. I selected the eel tendon set, and what I noticed while watching the chef work is that after frying, the perfectly crisp and crunchy tempura is then dipped in a vat of hot tare (a soy based sauce) and thats where they lost me. The eel, when it arrived to me on it's bed of rice was no longer crispy or crunchy. The tempura had the texture of cardboard, and a acrid bitter taste. The eel itself was fine enough, but the whole meal was a chore to get through and I was let feeling greasy and unsatisfied at it's end.

Another must do on any Kyoto itinerary is a bamboo forest or garden. Trying to be clever, we disregarded the famous and popular "Arashiyama Bamboo Grove" in favour of Rakusai Bamboo park. I'm not saying that Rakusai was a particularly bad experience. It was quiet, peaceful, serene and informative... but it was also a massive pain to get to and didn't really live up to my expectations. The natural bamboo forest we got lost in on the way to Rakusai was unfortunately more impressive in terms of quantity of bamboo, but obviously less manicured. Perhaps I just don't really get the whole hype of it. I enjoy the way sunlight filters through the stalks, creating dapples on the ground. The way the shoots clack together in a gentle breeze, composing (in my opinion) a slightly ominous soundtrack is fun... I guess. I'm glad I went, but more for the sating of my curiosity than the actual experience.

Bamboo forest we got lost in

The bamboo garden we visited

Wanting to see how Kyoto's vegetarian ramen spot held up to it's rival in Osaka, we headed to Engine Ramen for dinner. Looking back through my notes, that's all I wrote. That we went there, and that kind of sums up my experience. It wasn't amazing, It wasn't bad, It just was. It took us about an hour to be seated for dinner, and If I went back in time i'd probably just skip it and find somewhere else to go.

The next morning, despite our best intentions it was at least 9am by the time we alighted our crowded train to the Fushimi Inari shrine. From all that i'd read, if we had really wanted to visit it without the company of hundreds of people we had two options : sacrifice some sleep and go for daybreak or go after sundown and hope the local wild boar population ignores the night-time visit. We overslept. Making the most of our last day and not really up for a possible goring we decided to brave the crowds.

Fushimi Inari is a mountainside shrine, famous for its iconic bright red tori gates that line the path leading to its summit. Although I didn't count them, the best estimates state that the shrine has over 10,000 gates and for most visitors this is the main draw. It felt slightly unreal, slowing walking under this roof of gates placed so tightly together that in places it almost felt dark. It seemed like a movie set, every gate seemingly perfectly new, only differing to it's neighbour in the writing on it and occasionally in height. Gate after gate after gate we walked under, our steps slowly trudging up the steep mountainside, then there was a sign on our right "castle ruins". Feeling a bit claustrophobic we decided to follow this new route to see where it took us, leaving the ant like stream of people behind.

This route didn't have tori gates to walk under, there was just a safety fence on one side and a glade of bamboo on the other. We never managed to find the "castle ruins" the sign was pointing to, we followed this path until it joined a rustic road, and we continued to weave our way up the mountainside. Gone was the bustle of the crowds, no longer were we beholden to people posing for their instagram pic and instead we found peace... that and graveyard after graveyard. I'm making it sound different to what it was. It was moss covered headstones slowly being eaten by the elements, it was tiny vibrant wooden tori gates leaning against their crumbling stone predecessors, it was statues of kitsune (Fox guardians) wearing red bibs (a sign of good luck), all nestled away in the shade of ancient trees standing watch. Our hushed footsteps were accompanied by the leaves rustling in the trees and the sound of trickling water. I don't know how the caretakers managed the balance of letting nature take it's course while not allowing it to be forgotten, it was beautiful.

We walked so far we weren't even sure we were going the right way, but after a particularly gruelling set of steep worn stairs that left us swimming in sweat we saw it: a large red tori gate leading us to the summit of of Mount Inari-San. We followed the path, the canopy of tori gates slowly growing thicker as the distance between them decreased until we slotted back into the ever climbing line of people. It wasn't quite as crowded as it had been lower down on the path, but the whispered footsteps of exploring the cemeteries was replaced by the clomps of those determined to make it to the top. The sounds of bird song, replaced by heavy breathing and chatter. It wasn't worse, just different.

We stopped at the top to admire the view over Kyoto, that and by this point we were pretty exhausted. Like most places in Japan, Mount Inari's summit alongside being home to a number of shrines is also home to a number of vending machines so we grabbed a cold bottle of water and begun the slow walk down. Well, first we got lost (there's a loop walk around the summit that we almost continued on) and then we walked down.

The route we chose had a welcome surprise. Most shrines on the mountain are guarded over by kitsune who are the animal companions of the Shinto god Inari (who the mountian and shrine is dedicated to), but our walk down found a shrine with a difference - this one was guarded by frogs. As much as i've looked, I can't find the exact reason for this difference but just that they're known as fortune frogs and they provided a welcome contrast.

During our walk around Fushimi Inari Shrine, I had been thinking to myself "Yes, it's pretty crowded but it's not as bad as it could be" and I was right. By the time we had reached the beginning of the tori gate walk, I had garnered a whole new appreciation for the word crowded and how I had been perhaps misusing it in the past. I've honestly attended more roomy concerts in comparison to the amount of people ambling between the train station and shrine. Feeling daunted and overwhelmed, we quickly made our way through and found a small cafe for a refreshing cold drink before heading back into the city.

Back in the city there was a few places left that we wanted to visit, Nijo-jo Castle and the Kyoto Cultrual Museum. As Nijo-jo closed a lot earlier, we headed there first. Originally built as the residence of the1st Shogun of the Edo period, the castle grounds exterior was reminiscent of many traditional castles with large white guard towers and sloping walls. Inside was another matter, instead of a imposing stone castle keep was a one story residence with soft paper screen walls. All intimidation was done through decorative choices rather than architecture, fantastical beasts and impressive murals graced the themed rooms - the Shogun had a meeting room for each season with symbolism to match.

The Shogun's home wasn't build for defense, he was supposed to be able to protect himself, but there was some tricks built in. Nightingale floors, named for the birds they sound like squeak when walked on. It was quite cacophonous with the trail of tourists wandering along, but would be easy to pin point a single intruder in a home with all occupants in bed for the night. I thoroughly enjoyed visiting Niko-jo Castle; it was unlike any other we had seen and offered a glimpse into the lives of former Japanese rulers.

As our final activity we headed to the Cultural Museum. Although I wish they would have informed us that the top floor's gallery was currently off limits (and that there wasn't any English translations for the items on display) we found the museum worthwhile for their kimono gallery alone. Not only were these gorgeous garments beautifully preserved, it was amazing to see the intricate artistry that adorned them. Some were hand painted with traditional symbolism, some were delicately embroidered with thread or with gold. Every one of them was unique and I can't even begin to imagine how many hours went into each. We were joined in the gallery by two woman in their own beautiful kimono, one a younger girl dressed brightly rapidly taking notes and an older, dignified woman with perfect posture taking small deliberate steps as she serenely contemplated the displays around. A living example of history and culture being passed onto the next generation. A fitting end to our time in Kyoto.