kyoto, part one
On the morning of Wednesday, 11 August, Berek and I rose at 4:30 am in order to catch a 6 am shinkansen (bullet train) from Tokyo Station. Since the off-peak non-express train ride from Koganei to Tokyo Station would itself take almost an hour we had to start out early, catching it a little before 5 am, though we had at least managed to pack our stuff into one bag the night before.
We arrived at Tokyo Station around 7:45 am and quickly found our platform and the train waiting for its passengers:
The bullet train we took stopped only at Yokohama, Nagoya, and Kyoto on our leg of the journey, travelling up to 185 mph, though very smoothly despite the speed. Thus the ride to Kyoto, around 300 miles away, would only be a matter of a couple hours.
Japan is a largely mountain-filled country, with most people living along the coastal plains, which are filled with towns and rice fields, or in valleys among the mountains.
As we moved further away from Tokyo, covering the miles very rapidly, the population became sparser, the mountains closer, and the day more clear as the early morning haze burned off:
Unfortunately, we passed Mt Fuji quite early in the trip, while the haze still blocked it from view, so I have yet to see Japan's famed mountain.
It was about 8:15 am when we arrived in Kyoto, pulling into its massive train station buildings (more on them later), which left us a lot of time to tour what had been Japan's capital city for nearly 1000 years, prior to Tokyo taking up that role in the 19th century. Due to its place in Japanese history as the capital and the fact that it survived the War unscathed, Kyoto remains a prime tourist center for those who are interested in premodern Japan, with its palaces, gardens, and temples.
After a bit of directionless wandering, we boarded a Kyoto city bus and made our way towards one of the famous temples. Kyoto lies in something of a basin and most of the temples lie on the edges of the city, at the base or partway up the sides of the mountains that surround the Kyoto on all sides. The geography of Kyoto means that the distance between temples can require crossing the city from one side to another and also that the weather can be beastly hot, the humidity trapped by the mountains pinning it in on all sides.
The first temple complex we visited was Rokuon-ji Temple, also often called Kinkakuji (Golden Pavilion) after of one its central features:
The temple complex began as the villa of Kintsune Saionji and the gardens and initial layout of the property dates from the 1300s. The only features to survive from the original Zen temple complex are the gardens and the Golden Pavilion itself, though it has received extensive re-building and renovation:
The first floor of the Pavilion is in the style of a medieval palace, the second in the style of a samurai house, and the third in the style of a Zen temple. Atop the building sits a Chinese-style phoenix.
At the entrance to the temple complex is a large gate built along Chinese architectural conventions and an adjoining residence for the Zen Buddhist priests who tend to the property and religious ritual performed there:
The large pond in front of the pavilion itself is designed to provide a tranquil setting and to reflect the golder shimmer of Kinkakuji, therefore aptly named Kyoko-chi (mirror pond). The pond also contains an abundance of Koi swimming around, some quite colorful:
Up a flight of steps beyond the pavilion, in the midsts of lush trees and plants, there is another, smaller pond, An-min-taku, which contains a small island on which there stands a pale gray stone pagoda called Hakuja-no-tsuka, the mound in memory of the white snake:
The gardens that surround the temple complex are immaculately well-kept, as they are at the other temples we visited, with teams of gardeners sweeping up any stray leaves or gravel, and tending to the variety of mosses that cover the ground under the trees.
Personally, I always enjoy architecture, particularly little details, and spent time photographing various bits of buildings close-up. This is part of a fence constructed of bundles of twigs, which extended from a classically-styled tea house on the property:
Nearby there stood a latticed gate with a thatched roof where various mosses and lichens had grown, blending the gate into its surroundings:
Other roofs were shingled with traditional Japanese ceramic tiles, often with a variety of patterns from geometric swirls to stylized flowers molded into them, particularly the end-pieces and ridges:
From Kinkakuji we got directions to a site that featured a Zen rock garden, though the walk there turned out to be rather a bit farther than we had anticipated, but well worth the hike.
(continue to the next post: kyoto, part two)
We arrived at Tokyo Station around 7:45 am and quickly found our platform and the train waiting for its passengers:
The bullet train we took stopped only at Yokohama, Nagoya, and Kyoto on our leg of the journey, travelling up to 185 mph, though very smoothly despite the speed. Thus the ride to Kyoto, around 300 miles away, would only be a matter of a couple hours.
Japan is a largely mountain-filled country, with most people living along the coastal plains, which are filled with towns and rice fields, or in valleys among the mountains.
As we moved further away from Tokyo, covering the miles very rapidly, the population became sparser, the mountains closer, and the day more clear as the early morning haze burned off:
Unfortunately, we passed Mt Fuji quite early in the trip, while the haze still blocked it from view, so I have yet to see Japan's famed mountain.
It was about 8:15 am when we arrived in Kyoto, pulling into its massive train station buildings (more on them later), which left us a lot of time to tour what had been Japan's capital city for nearly 1000 years, prior to Tokyo taking up that role in the 19th century. Due to its place in Japanese history as the capital and the fact that it survived the War unscathed, Kyoto remains a prime tourist center for those who are interested in premodern Japan, with its palaces, gardens, and temples.
After a bit of directionless wandering, we boarded a Kyoto city bus and made our way towards one of the famous temples. Kyoto lies in something of a basin and most of the temples lie on the edges of the city, at the base or partway up the sides of the mountains that surround the Kyoto on all sides. The geography of Kyoto means that the distance between temples can require crossing the city from one side to another and also that the weather can be beastly hot, the humidity trapped by the mountains pinning it in on all sides.
The first temple complex we visited was Rokuon-ji Temple, also often called Kinkakuji (Golden Pavilion) after of one its central features:
The temple complex began as the villa of Kintsune Saionji and the gardens and initial layout of the property dates from the 1300s. The only features to survive from the original Zen temple complex are the gardens and the Golden Pavilion itself, though it has received extensive re-building and renovation:
The first floor of the Pavilion is in the style of a medieval palace, the second in the style of a samurai house, and the third in the style of a Zen temple. Atop the building sits a Chinese-style phoenix.
At the entrance to the temple complex is a large gate built along Chinese architectural conventions and an adjoining residence for the Zen Buddhist priests who tend to the property and religious ritual performed there:
The large pond in front of the pavilion itself is designed to provide a tranquil setting and to reflect the golder shimmer of Kinkakuji, therefore aptly named Kyoko-chi (mirror pond). The pond also contains an abundance of Koi swimming around, some quite colorful:
Up a flight of steps beyond the pavilion, in the midsts of lush trees and plants, there is another, smaller pond, An-min-taku, which contains a small island on which there stands a pale gray stone pagoda called Hakuja-no-tsuka, the mound in memory of the white snake:
The gardens that surround the temple complex are immaculately well-kept, as they are at the other temples we visited, with teams of gardeners sweeping up any stray leaves or gravel, and tending to the variety of mosses that cover the ground under the trees.
Personally, I always enjoy architecture, particularly little details, and spent time photographing various bits of buildings close-up. This is part of a fence constructed of bundles of twigs, which extended from a classically-styled tea house on the property:
Nearby there stood a latticed gate with a thatched roof where various mosses and lichens had grown, blending the gate into its surroundings:
Other roofs were shingled with traditional Japanese ceramic tiles, often with a variety of patterns from geometric swirls to stylized flowers molded into them, particularly the end-pieces and ridges:
From Kinkakuji we got directions to a site that featured a Zen rock garden, though the walk there turned out to be rather a bit farther than we had anticipated, but well worth the hike.
(continue to the next post: kyoto, part two)
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