Cycling through the samurai castles and geisha districts of Kansai

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Mooshi, Mooshi to everyone whose taken the time to read my entries these past 12 months.
My time in Japan is coming quickly to a close, and I have just a few last experiences I'd like to share with you all before I leave behind green mountains and concrete cities of Japan for the unknown shores of China.
Last week I said goodbye, maybe forever, to the San-In coast and helped Chris move down to Hikone, where he will start a new job as a private English teacher. Hikone is a small town in the Kansai region of Japan, just 70 km from Kyoto, and is famed for its Edo-period castle. It's a bit smaller than the castle near my old residence in Shimane-ken, but Hikone's castle grounds are much larger, including an inner and outer moat and a beautiful 16th century garden. Unlike European castles, Japanese castles were not lived in. They were all generally built upon the highest point overlooking the city and were used as guard/watch towers as well as symbols of beauty and power. The leader and his family resided within the castle walls, in by today's standards, a modest wooden home near a landscaped garden. Old samurai and wealthy merchants' residences line the outskirts of the castle.
The area between the inner and outer moats is open to street traffic, where one can cycle alongside paddling turtles and nesting swans.
Hikone is also famed for its proximity to lake Biwa, known as Biwako, one of the largest and most beautiful lakes in Japan which boasts great cycling, camping, and windsurfing. It was from here that I set off on my bike with the goal of making it down to Nara in 3 days. I set off toward Otsu City, at the southernmost tip of Biwako, zipping down a nice bike path away from traffic. Shady trees and cool lake breeze made the ride pleasurable, and once the road curved inland, I found myself riding through farmer's markets of cheap, fresh watermelons to dine for lunch. I wanted to stay in Otsu the night so I could leave Kyoto's ride until the wee hours of the morning with no cars. Unfortunately, the cheapest a room could be had was 5000 yen, while my Kyoto hostel was only asking 2000, so I stopped off for an iced coffee and made a congested hour and a half trek into the heart of Kyoto.
Immediately, the city has a different feel than the rest of Japan. Bicycles and scooters zip passed women head to toe in the latest fashions while swarms of foreign tourists stand around looking confused. Elegantly dressed shop owners throw buckets of water onto the pavement to keep their entryway cool in the summer heat while salarymen rush by on their mobiles and housewives stroll more slowly with their little trophy dogs out for a walk.
I arrived at my hostel close to the Imperial Palace around dusk. I was lucky to share a room with only one other girl, a student from Estonia who was touring Japan to make paintings for an exhibition she was to have back home. She suggested dinner, so after only an hour of sitting down to rest, I was out on the streets again, wandering down alleys and through various entertainment districts illuminated in familiar neon. It was refreshing to be in a big city again with so much activity buzzing around me after months spent in the countryside.
For my second day, I decided to take it easy and just cruise the streets of Kyoto since I now had the opportunity to reach the further away places that seldom get visited by tourists.
One such gem was Saisho-in, an 8th century Buddhist temple tucked in a mountain gorge near Kyoto.
In front of the shrine was inscribed this old poem, which captured perfectly its mood:
The evening bell, solemn and bronze
In the grandfather temple down the hill
Sounds dimly here.
Slow beat of the mountain’s heart, perhaps,
Or determined pulse of pine tree
Growing out of a crotch of the slippery monkey tree.
All one, perhaps:
Bell, mountain, tree…
And steady cicada vibratto
And quiet artist-priest, carver of Noh masks.
Fashioning a bamboo crutch for the ancient peach tree:
Symbol of strength, symbol of concern.
All cool under nodding crowns of the vertical forest.
All seeking in this place.
All finding in this place.
Hidden yet open to all.
The spirit in the cedar’s heart.

I wandered that day through the random alleyways, through the Kyoto University campus, and stopped to meditate in a zen garden about that cedar tree.
At night, I went out with my Estonian friend on a hunt to catch a glimpse of geisha or maiko(geisha apprentice). Kyoto's geisha tradition is the most well-known in all of Japan. Today, it is one of the only places left that still has a working geisha district and offers a chance to glimpse these mysterious beauties. To have an opportunity to actually meet a geisha is very rare if you are Japanese and near impossible if you are a foreigner. Not only do you have to have the fiscal means to go to a geisha house, but you need a series of introductions to obtain a direct invitation by the mama san. After the mama san invites you to come, you must visit three times before you are allowed to come as a customer of any individual geisha. So, the only hope of geisha seekers like ourselves is to hang about in the streets outside the geisha houses waiting for one to hurry by on their way to a client or waiting taxi. In an hour we managed to catch a glimpse of 3 different maiko, but as you can see, they photographed like phantoms in the night.
The next day, I woke at six in the morning in hopes of cycling the 60 km to Nara, Japan's oldest capital, before the sun's ferocious heat stopped me. On kancycling.com, I was advised of a great cycling road that takes you out of Kyoto and along a river straight into the heart of Nara. The road was flat and smooth, only to be used for cyclists and joggers, but the lack of scenery and lack of shade in the 37(100) degree heat made it a bit dull.
As one bike path ended and I was searching down a busy highway to pick up the trail, I happened upon a curry restaurant that seemed the perfect haven from the heat. Inside sat only the owner and an elderly couple having lunch. They reacted in shock to see a sweaty foreigner wander in, but turned out to be some of the friendliest people that I met on my trip. The elderly woman could speak English and was eager to ask me an assortment of questions while I ate my curry. She eagerly told me of all the countries they had visited back in their younger years, and when we finished our meal, the kindly couple insisted on buying me ice cream before following me out into the parking lot to wave goodbye.
I arrived in Nara with just enough time to relax in the local bath house before it was time to attend the tea ceremony my host had invited me to. I had decided upon a friends suggestion to try out couchsurfing, since there are no other cheap sleeping options in Nara. I would definitely recommend couchsurfing to anyone traveling, as it really made my time in Nara much more special then hanging out in a sterile hotel. My host was a lovely Japanese woman named Mayumi who owns her own cafe in one of Nara's older districts, lined with traditional houses that date back to the Edo period. Her friend came to pick the four of us up (there were 2 other couchsurfers staying with me in the tatami mat room above the cafe) and drove us to the outskirts of the city where Mayumi's friend was preparing to teach us tea ceremony. The experience was quite different from the times I participated in tea ceremony with my junior high students, who were only there to snatch up a sweet. I could certainly call this woman a performance artist, the way she slowly and deliberately handles all the utensils in preparation to serve tea. We made it back to Mayumi's at nightfall, where she whipped up some of the most delicious food I've had while in Japan: iced soba noodles, sweet potato salad, marinated chicken, and flavorful red rice.
I slept well in the comfort of friends.
The next day in Nara, I went to see the famed Daibutsu, one of the world's largest bronze Buddhas, housed in the worlds biggest wooden structure. The statue was cool and silent sitting upon its giant lotus cushion. All of the main tourist attractions are located around Nara park, a landscaped area that is over run with deer. Deer were once considered the messengers of the gods to the Japanese. But today, instead of bearing holy messages, they roam around waiting for tourists to buy deer biscuits from the souvenir stands, which almost everyone does in order to get a photo feeding the unfortunately obese creatures.
When I got back to Mayumi's, she was chatting with Yuji Sano, a kindly old gentleman with excellent English who just got his license to be a English tour guide in Nara. He asked me if I would like to go with him to a geisha museum that had just opened, as he was about to leave for there himself. And so, we were off down a narrow street to a storefront owned by a local architect,Yoshiaki. Yoshiaki, who always had an interest in the geisha of his hometown, had gone around Nara collecting old photos of geisha from peoples forgotten albums. Some were over a hundred years old, and he was able to digitally restore their quality. By building his collection in this way, her personally knew the relatives of the people in these photos, and was able to explain (in Japanese to which Mr. Sano translated) about the historical and personal stories of these people's lives. He had many photos of US soldiers posing with geisha during occupation and explained the hardships of that time. In the early 1900s there were 200 geisha working in Nara. Today, there is only 1 working geisha and 11 retired geisha left. He explained that, in the 1970s, due to foreign influence and changing times, a growing middle class and an abundance of new entertainment options (such as karaoke) the geisha houses lost all their business.
Mr, Yoshiaki hopes to keep geisha tradition alive in Nara, but I'm afraid the only way it could enjoy popularity again is if it opens its doors to the foreign tourism market.
If anyone is going to Nara and would like to contact Mr. Sano for a fascinating tour, please check out his website at tourguidejd.com or email him at [e-mail].
The last two days of my cycling adventure were fairly uneventful, as they only involved backtracking up to Hikone. I cycled all morning back to Kyoto, and relaxed at a really nice hostel with a rooftop terrence. By this time, I was sick of wilting in the heat every day and was just eager to get back to Chris's blissful aircon and free internet access. I decided to get up at 5 in the morning on my last day so I could get to Hikone before the noon heat, but on my way out of the city, I took a deadly wrong turn that put me on a shoulder less highway full of trucks bearing down upon me at 120km/hr. I hugged the sidewall praying for an exit ramp but instead receiving a 2 km tunnel I had no choice but to enter. While in the dark noisy tunnel I thought this must be as close to hell you can get in real life. No escape, little air. But as if emerging from a bad dream, out of the tunnel and into the light of dawn I came face to face with a stunning view of the sun rising over Otsu City. And, to the left, lay my coveted ramp, leading me right down to the lake. Once off the highway, I stopped to catch my bearings, upon chance at the front entrance to a shrine with a beautiful natural wood torii, a welcome respite after the array of cheaply painted metal ones that clutter Kyoto and Nara. Some morning hikers were heading into the forest and just then I saw the most peaceful sight. An elderly man walked up to the torii but did not enter. He stood at its gaping mouth for a full minute, and then, slowly, readied his hands like a composer preparing to lead his orchestra and gave two resonate claps. He bowed slowly, and moved away from the entrance, to a large stone with some kanji engraved on its face. He repeated his ritual. I wondered what he was thinking about and what was written upon the stone's surface.
Lastly, he came to where I was standing, in front of the intersection whose road took you straight down into the town below. He paused, gazing out over the city illuminated by dawn sunlight. And then, once more, he clapped.

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