Temples and Culture in Kyoto

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Super Express Train

We rode the ridiculously expensive super express train from Tokyo to Kyoto. It cost twice as much to take this train ride than it did to fly from Hanoi to Singapore. It took us 2 hours and 40 minutes to travel over 500 kilometers, so that was pretty cool. We could have saved ourselves twenty minutes, and paid more per person to take, I guess, the super super express train. The train was fast and clean - even the bathroom - and it ran with amazing precision. Eric was monitoring his watch to see if the train would be late. It was not even seconds late. Supposedly, trains in Japan are on average 12 seconds late. It was something we saw over and over, even in the subway system. If the schedule says the subway will be leaving at 12:57, it leaves precisely at 12:57. On the dot.

We arrived at Kyoto station, which is a tourist site to see in itself. It is huge, I felt as though it would give Penn Station a run for its money - not based on the number of train lines running through but based on the number of people going through the station just to shop and eat. There is a multi-story, high end department store and more eating options than at most malls in the US. We found a remote hotel concierge, who held our bags for us while we “quickly” grabbed lunch. We read that the 10th floor of the station had a ton of ramen noodle shops, and we thought quick eats. The noodles were tasty and cheap, and they were quick, once we figured out how to order through the vending machine coupon station at the front of each restaurant (you put your money in first and then select your item, at which time a coupon will spit out). The problem was getting to that floor and then back to the concierge with that held our bags. We were given directions to the 10th floor (up two escalators, into the main hall, make a left, watch for signs to the south elevator in the department store, take the elevator up). Making it back was another challenge.

The Kyoto station has an enormous outdoor escalator that runs from the station entrance, eleven floors up to a food area called the “Cube”. From the 10th floor ramen area we were able to see the escalator, and explored the outside. It was a modern technology masterpiece, I will say. And, we slowly rode the escalators down to the main level while listening to some jazz and the theme song from Beauty and the Beast, sung in Japanese. Once at the bottom, we saw the time. The free shuttle bus to the hotel ran every half hour and we had about twenty minutes to make our way back to get our bags. Easier said than done. We not only got lost, but could not figure on a map where we were or where we needed to go. We walked downstairs through a shopping area in the basement and back up again. We walked through a department store basement food area. We walked back up the escalator, through another hallway, before finally finding our way. We arrived at the concierge about 1 minute before the shuttle bus arrived and he quickly gave us our bags and walked us to the bus stop. We were on our way with only seconds to spare.

Kyoto Town

We were staying at the Westin Miyako, which I venture may have been the nicest hotel in the area. It was just a bit outside of the downtown area, but looked like it was built out of the mountains. We had a wonderful view from our two room suite of the town, the mountains, and some of the temples in the area. Even the executive lounge had a beautiful sunset view over the city. After happy hour, we tried to find one of the restaurants listed in Lonely Planet, settling on a tempura restaurant, supposedly with friendly “mamasans” to help us through the menu. We sat at small tables on cushions, and ate with no shoes on. We had tasty tempura - lightly fried shrimp and veggies, which we dunked in sauce. There were three or four women running the place, the aforementioned mamasans - mother like figures. “San” is added to the end of names in Japan to show a sign of respect. Eric was greeted at the hotel as Mr. Hoffmansan. These mamasans took care of us and we had a tasty meal.

The walk to the restaurant and back was even more quiet than Tokyo. But, it was stunning, with a small gurgling creek running under the street and small itty-bitty shrines along the way. It was dark as could be, but I could almost feel the hills that surrounded us. And, again, the city was spotless, with not a grain of trash on the street. It is so refreshing. I was almost gitty to explore the town in the morning.

Templed Out

After nine month together, every day, all day, together, all the time, always, Eric and I started getting on each other’s nerves. After almost seven months in Asia, Eric is done with temples. He was all templed out. I, on the other hand, felt pretty templed out in Southeast Asia, but recognized that each country had different temple architecture, and I am intrigued by the simple Shinto architecture we saw in Tokyo. There are 2,000 temples and shrines in Kyoto. I was not advocating seeing them all, but I wanted to see some. I wanted to wander around the town, to try and spot a geisha. Eric was done. He felt tired and sore.

So, in the morning I dragged him across town to see a former palace set in supposed serene gardens. His heart was just not into it, although he was humoring me. I was intrigued by the Japanese architecture - the lack of colors - all white and shades of brown and black - very in line with the nature surrounding it. The palace was just that, and very sparse inside, with large seemingly empty rooms covered in straw tatami mats and lined with painted screens with various nature scenes - trees, peacocks, tiger, etc. The most interesting part about the palace was that the wood floors were intentionally squeaky, so that intruders would be detected. The grounds were serene, but the paths were closed off. It was more of a museum than a park for welcome guests.

After, we walked to the Imperial Palace gardens. I knew we could not get into the palace itself, but heard the gardens were nice for a stroll or a picnic. They were fairly barren. There were no flowers, and the ground was fairly brown, colorless. And, we could not get a decent view of the palace itself. It was, frankly, a disappointment. We were both getting tired. I suggested to Eric that we have some lunch and if he was tired, then he could go back to the hotel and I would finish the day alone. No problem. I tried to encourage him to stop for lunch, but first, nothing appealed to him, and then when we both really did get hungry, there were no restaurants with menus we could understand. My blood pressure was dropping, so I stopped at a counter that sold deep fried foods and ordered a deep fried pumpkin slice and potato slice. They were tasty enough to tie me over. I could feel the tension between us as every step that Eric took seemed to make him more tired and cranky. Finally, I spotted an Indian restaurant, with a very reasonably priced set lunch menu. We enjoyed some curry, rice, nan, and chai tea. It scratched and itch I did not know I had. I cannot remember the last time I had Indian - was it Malaysia? We did not even have any in the US during our brief return. After, we continued to walk a few blocks and Eric veered off to head to the train station, back to the hotel, and I was left alone to fend for myself.

Flying Solo

I know Eric won’t mind me saying that I totally enjoyed myself, although I tried to keep a mental note of what I was seeing to tell Eric later. I walked through a shopping area which had several intersecting covered arcades with some souvenir shops, but mostly young teenage shops with some of the similar “fashion” we saw in Harajuku. I just wandered, occasionally looking at the map, or remembering which general direction I was headed. I was not stressed about taking a wrong turn and getting the look from Eric that he was annoyed we needed to backtrack. What was most impressive about this little neighborhood were the alleys and side streets with what seemed to me to be perfectly preserved Japanese architecture - what I imagined it looked like in small villages that have not been touched for centuries. I am sure most of this was reconstructed to look old to preserve Kyoto as the World Heritage tourist site it is. But, I enjoyed it nonetheless.

I made my way across the river to keep meandering back towards to hotel. There were two small shrines the concierge at the hotel recommended. She had them circled on the map. I was trying to make my way to see them. As I crossed the river I noticed people sitting on the stone river bank. There were no benches, but I was already engrossed in the new book I was reading, even after I read only ten pages, so I sat and read a few chapters while listening to the gentle and shallow river flow over the rock bed. It was peaceful and tranquil, and a free way to kill some time in an expensive country.

Then, I wanted to find the temples. I crossed the river and walked through some more back alleys and small side streets, almost intentionally leading myself away from the main shopping streets in hopes of getting lost. I went down any street that looked attractive with hanging red or white lanterns. The one street I ended up on had many high end restaurants, with sushi and Kobe beef, that certainly looked more Disney than authentic, but I was willing to suspend my disbelief. I was trying to spot some geishas, which can be done in this neighborhood. I saw numerous women wearing their traditional dress, with their hair pulled back and high upon their head. They shuffled along with wooden shoes and white socks. The only reason they looked like they were walking through 2009 and not 1809 was that they usually carried a modern handbag and sometimes a shopping bag. Geishas still do exist in Japan, and there are some in Kyoto. I read in the book that they still keep the company of men, and are in many cases held in very high regard. They are not prostitutes. They will spend time with a man, sing, dance, serve food, and who knows what else. I am not sure if the women I saw were geishas because I imagined them with white face paint and elaborate make up. I did see them going from building to building, taking taxis, and if they were geishas, keeping their “appointments” as the Lonely Planet called them.

At the end of the street I came across a beautiful grand shrine. I am not sure what the shrine was called because the signs were in Japanese. I am also not 100% sure where I was on the map. I wandered through some more alleys and ended up on a main street at another temple that, different from the others, was bright orange painted wood, and worshippers were yanking large cords to ring a brass bell high atop the temple. Not what I expected. I then decided I was tired and ready to head back from my solo adventure and I finally tried to locate myself on the map, which took me a few minutes. I then started the journey back realizing how tired my legs were; and I was still a distance from the hotel. I would have had to walk in the opposite direction to take the subway or the free hotel shuttle so I willed myself to continue, stopping at some shops along the way. The last bit uphill to the hotel was the worst, but I persevered. I flew solo. I enjoyed myself.

Yakitori

Our second night in Kyoto we hit another Lonely Planet restaurant on the road from our hotel. This place was exactly what Eric and I had been looking for. It had the lively atmosphere of an izakaya that we were hoping to find in Tokyo. It was a yakitori restaurant, which specialized in meat and vegetables on a stick, charcoal grilled at the bar before your very eyes. We chose two seats at the bar, in front of the chef and enjoyed our evening of fried food on a stick while listening to cheesy 80’s music. They played “Power of Love” which not only made me sing, but made me think back to my law school study abroad, when the group spent July 4 in Geneva in a high school gymnasium with a DJ playing similar cheesy 80s music. I remembered rocking out to Huey Luis with my friend Bruce and others. We loved this place. We had chicken on a stick with cheese, mushrooms, all sorts of things. We also had chicken heart, which was fairly tender and slathered in marinade. We have not been as adventurous on this trip as we hoped to when it came to food, but it was much easier to be adventurous in Japan, where all of the food is tasty, clean, and fresh.

Aussie Food

A little note having nothing to do with Japan or Osaka: In the executive lounge at the hotel, we met an Aussie couple from Brisbane. We have fond memories of Australia, and even Brisbane, where we stayed with a friend’s parents. We had a lovely conversation with this bloke until he started bashing the food in the US. Now, we have spent nine months enjoying food all through Asia and the Pacific Rim, and I would not say that the Australian portion of the trip showcased the best food of the trip, but I would not knock it either. I would say that the food was generally fresh, with local ingredients. And, we had good, cheap Indian food in Sydney and good Asian food in Melbourne. We ate crocodile and good fish and chips. But, for someone to argue about the wonders of “Australian cuisine” when the country only recently embraced food from outside of the British sphere of influence had me god smacked. I will give them high quality beef. I will give them fresh ingredients. I will give them a good shrimp on the barbie, but what else? He had been to the west and east costs of the US and Toronto (which somehow he incorporated in his discussion of the food in the US), and without specifics he said it all was awful and that the US should learn there are more spices than pepper and dijonaise. I asked him if he limited his US eating to TGI Fridays? He criticized NY pizza for crying out loud!!! And, he argued that our country had no diversity in comparison to the Aussies. I think both countries have a significant amount of influence from the Pacific Rim, but I doubted they have the same influence from Latin and South America as we do in the US - particularly considering that I miss good ole Mexican food more than anything else from home nine months into this journey. I thought about all of the places we have within 10 blocks of us in Chicago, including our Columbian steakhouse three blocks away. When discussing diversity, Eric asked if Sydney had an East Ukrainian Village, like Chicago has. The Aussie argued that, of course, he had several friends from Latvia. I had to point out to him that Latvia and the Ukraine are not the same, but of course, he talked about Toronto in his discussion of US food. I know this is a long time to explain a conversation that took place with a “wack a doo” as my Aussie friend, Stuart, referred to him, but I spent days stewing over this. This was particularly true in the morning when the table next to me at breakfast was Australian, and pulled out a tube of Vegemite for their children to spread on their toast. I enjoyed Australia. I would totally move to Sydney. But, in this conversation, I had one final word. Vegemite. Enough said.

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Photos

Train Station
This was the outside of the train station, with a music stage.

Escalators
Pretty cool series of outdoor escalators at the train station.

Traditional Dress
A wedding couple on the balcony at the hotel.

Temple View
The view from our hotel room.

Tasty Tempura
Fried shrimp and veggies on the left side with all the accompaniments.