Kyoto: II

Transported into the magical world of temples

By Thomas Feng

September 22^nd, 2015

transportation

There are a number of ways of travelling around Kyoto: bus, subway and the JR trains. We bought a JR Pass prior to travelling to Japan as we were doing a considerable amount of inter-city travel on the Shinkansen (bullet train) and it was much more economical to use the pass. However, this meant that we technically were supposed to pay for every single bus and subway ride; they happened to be much closer to our accommodation than the JR train.

Often this meant that we walked 1-2km home instead of paying a few dollars for a ride in a bus; or we tried fare evading, though in a society built on order and being mindful of following rules, we felt very guilty. The trains were impeccable though: phones weren’t used, loud music wasn’t played and arcade-like noises would signal an announcement. It was peaceful to feel the steady rumble of the train and simply look out the window at the Japanese summer scenery as we rode towards various temples.

Kyoto City JR Station. The station rises up five levels with a sky garden because it's damn magical.

A suburban Kyoto train. Not to be confused with the Shinkansen.

kinkaku-ji

The Golden Pavilion Temple is one of the most well-known and popular buildings in Japan. Prior to its conversion to a Zen temple in the late 14th century, it was a guest-house. Excessive power goals.

Coated in fine, pure gold leaf, it is one of the most beautiful temples I have ever seen but there were a lot of people which meant it was difficult to really appreciate it fully. Although with the sun shining bright, sheets of reflected gold covered the pond and left a lasting impression on me. Half an hour after entering, we’d taken “that shot” and were on our way out after walking around the pond and through the strolling garden.

heian jingu

Built in 1895, Heian Jingu was home to the largest torii (shinto gate), and one of the most stunning gardens I have seen. Given our short four day stay in Kyoto my brother and I were a little hesitant to come as it wasn’t considered a must-see destination. However it was only a five minute bicycle ride from our home so we decided to swing by.

This was by far the most underrated and under-appreciated place I went to in Japan. In the gardens my eyes opened wide like the water lilies blooming in the searing heat. It was as if I’d had a close-minded view of Japan previously, until a burst of sheer colour, peacefulness, precision and beauty from Heian Jingu opened my mind to a place that exceeded my own notions, a place that was at once surreal and real.

nanzenji

Fifteen minutes to the east of Heian Jingu by bicycle was Nanzenji, situated in the Higashiyama mountains. This was one of my top reasons for wanting to visit Japan. I’d seen it on camera and it looked magical then, so when I went to see it in person I was absolutely in awe.

The Sanmon entrance gate greeted us emphatically with its roof and balcony extending above the trees. To the right was an aqueduct which used to carry water and goods between Kyoto and neighbouring areas. Behind the aqueduct was Nanzenin, a subtemple and former retirement villa of the emperor. It was a meditative experience, sitting by the temple hall watching sapphire blue dragonflies gracefully scurry around. This was only going to get better.

We left Nanzenin and entered the Hojo (the main hall). Shoes were off and wandering through the halls. The sacred Hojo rock garden featured a wide open space resembling a crossing of a river, and the sliding doors had paintings such as a gold-leafed tiger which were absolutely scintillating. Photos of the paintings and rooms inside the hall were banned and so you really just had to immerse yourself. I sat on the edge of one of the passageways overlooking another rock garden at the back. Once again I felt a heightened sense of being. Perhaps I identified with the quaint tranquility of the place; perhaps I had never been more inspired by the simplicity and balance of traditional Japanese architecture; perhaps it was because I never thought I’d be able to experience a place that is literally above and beyond reality but is again, somehow real.

fushimi-inari

This place was made of dreams. Built in 794, Fushimi Inari Taisha is the most important Shinto shrine dedicated to Inari, the Shinto god of rice. Foxes, thought to be messengers of Inari, are scattered throughout the shrine’s grounds.

The shrine sits on the bottom of Mt. Inari, which is a few hundred metres above sea level and there are trails up the mountain to sub-shrines totalling up to 4km in a 2 hour roundabout trip. These trails contain thousands of torii gates, guiding you through the beautiful forested mountain. Walking through the densely-packed torii trail was truly magical, each torii felt like a shining light guiding you to a peaceful salvation.

This place epitomised Japan for me: an aesthetically divine melody of mountains, forests and rivers, with harmonies by man-made objects which paid respect to the land, in a symphony of ethereal serenity.

Thank you Kyoto for showing me the beauty in slowing down and being thoughtful; for cultivating a rich culture of history and everlasting tradition; for eclipsing my own imagination with your fanciful reality.