Kyoto in toto

It’s just under 48 hours since I have arrived in this enchanting country and it feels like I have ticked so many boxes. Not that I’m really into box-ticking travel but there’s a certain kind of cultural norm of “consumerism to the max” that I feel swept up in a type of casual acceptance.

 

I am sitting by the river, there are some young women to my left dressed in traditional costumes taking selfies every 2 minutes, loving themselves to bits. They do look pretty in their bright, colourful dress with flowers in their chignons. There are many young, and some not so young, walking the streets of Kyoto in kimono, the girls embracing the quintessential elegance of the costume, the guys looking less awkward than what might be expected from youth in formal attire. For my western eye it is beguiling and with an appreciation, I snap a sneaky photo now and then, with some typical Japanese architectural feature or foliage in the background, always hoping for some authenticity that will never be achieved. Oh well… it’s an aesthetic that is pleasing nonetheless.

I am well into Kumano training in some ways clocking up kilometres walking around, taking paths less travelled and those that are more so. Today we set off before breakfast towards Ginkaku-ji Temple (the silver temple) while the city was waking from Saturday night frivolities; some way along canals, through undercover markets too early for business, along wide streets, past the zoo and families en route to same, avoiding ignorant tourists barely in control of their hire bikes and all with my umbrella up to ward off the unseasonably warm sun. We had intended to walk the Philosophers’ Path after visiting the temple but came upon a sign pointing us towards the beginning of the path, another temple. It was as could only be expected, divine, peaceful, meditative. There were a few remaining Sakura on trees already sporting their new season greenery, and scattered blossoms looking somewhat faded and crepe-like, fallen and past their prime laying beneath those late bloomers – it is the nature of things. We missed any opportunity for Hanami by a matter of days but the bright green foliage of the spring is a substitute that is easy to accept. The willows droop languorously towards the babbling water, the crisp maroon of the Japanese maple draws attention away from the various shades of green. Occasionally there is some stone shrine, an interesting planting in a neighbouring home or the juxtaposition of the architecture of a modern house to draw the mind back to the footfall on granite stones placed to mark and maintain an oft trod path for monks hundreds of years ago.

And news just in… a large koi was caught just near where I am sitting. A brute of a fish… I’d say it was about 6 kgs at least! It was not for anything more than sport, and animal-lovers will be glad to know it was released unscathed back to the clear waters, despite its short but starring role in some warm spring afternoon reverie as tourists from various places (and maybe a few locals) seek shade and a pleasant breeze on the western bank.

Back to the recount of the day’s adventure. The walk became busier the closer we were to the temple and small shops and cafes appeared on both sides of the narrow waterway, spring fed from the nearby mountains and tamed by ancient design. By this time we were hungry but the plethora of options only created confusion as we walked up the hill where all travellers must walk to access the temple. I have finally come to understand my need for sustenance of the bodily kind often plays second fiddle to my satisfied, stimulated consciousness when I’m travelling. And this then makes any kind of decision making fraught with difficulty especially if it requires some cultural and linguistic interpretation as that part of my brain that makes refuelling decisions is also lacking energy. Basically it means I’ve got to make a choice based on something, anything, and quickly before good humour turns. So we made a choice based on some basic needs ie shade, savoury food and aesthetics. It worked, huzzah!

I even got to say “oishikatta” (“that was delicious” – because it was, and with thanks to Marcus’ tutorage) as I paid for the meal. The lovely women appreciated my paltry effort.

The temple, well it was more the gardens of the temple… just, wow! I have a garden, I tend my garden, I have designed my garden, I continue to create it: this little one person, twenty year effort elicits in me a response of true reverence for the efforts of the gardeners of this delight. We wandered through the garden barely quietening any desire for falling into and onto the mossy ground beneath venerable trees, and noticing without exception the slim barrier that confounds the true nature of the mountain forest from entering the manicured and sacred space. But it is the real nature beyond the fence that in its wildness and liberty is the unfettered spirit of life and to that force we will go when we leave this city.

It may seem that it is all philosophy and aesthetics so far but there has also been sake (amongst other beverages). Our hostel has a sake bar at street level. Perhaps this is why Marcus likes it. Last evening I tried 3 types of sake, and had a sip of a special one that Marcus had moved on to. I am no connoisseur but even my immature palate preferred the more polished varieties. I don’t quite understand how the percentage of the rice grain polished effects the product so much, but it does. I like the labels on the huge bottles too. I also like the little morsels of food that can be served alongside your sake choice at this bar. In fact, I believe it may be sake o’clock.

Kanpai!!