Kyoto Top Picks

I'm often asked which destination I consider to be the best or the most memorable. The safe answer, of course, is that there are many. After all, the answer often depends on your current mood. But, when pushed for just one city, Kyoto in Japan almost always tops the list.

Unlike the rest of the country which is constantly undergoing reconstruction, Kyoto stands the best chance of keeping its skyline and streetscape intact. Not that there haven't been attempts to redesign the city. In Japan, construction companies, real estate giants and local politicians are always on the prowl for some new project to build or some new area to cement over. Even Kyoto, Japan's so-called spiritual center and old imperial capital, has had portions of the city ravaged by overzealous urban planning. In fact, the Kyoto that greets you just as you get off the shinkansen from Tokyo is the farthest thing you imagine it to be. The Kyoto Tower (the Japanese love towers) is the first building you see - an image so out of place in a city of temples and medieval streets - it makes you wonder if the Kyoto of our imagination is precisely that - imagined. An image preserved in guidebooks with the sole purpose of drawing in tourists, perhaps.

Kyoto, after all, is as urbane and modern as any other Japanese city. Most of us, however, come to this city with tunnel-vision - seeking out only the images of Japan's graceful past and ignoring the cement monstrosities that have become the daily reality for Kyoto's residents.

Well, that's the great thing about being a short- time visitor. We don't have to deal with the realities of Kyoto's slowly receding traditional streetscape. Instead, we can choose to focus on the images that conform to the Kyoto of geishas, temples, rock gardens and cobblestone streets that we all come to this city for. And I have no problem with that.

My Top Picks:

Getting Lost. Going with the Flow.

At first, getting lost coming out of the train station was the last thing I wanted. Getting lost anywhere in Japan is precisely the last thing you want to happen. English is hardly spoken - and even if it is - Japan's streets are so tangled you probably couldn't navigate them despite clear instructions on how to.

Well, this is Kyoto, right? So like the Zen monks of this temple city, I ditch my map and go to wherever the roads, streets and lanes lead me. In Kyoto, those streets will always lead you to a temple, a garden or a ryokan - the traditional Japanese inn. I've never tried exploring a foreign city this way but it in Kyoto it works. You follow your instincts (or your heart) and not the guidebook writer's or the JTB's (Japan Tourism Bureau) recommendations. Often the road leads you nowhere. But once you drop the tourist frame of mind - which is always seeking some important site - and replace it with a, well, zen-like frame of mind - things start to get really interesting. Like Basho's haiku - I try sitting still - quietly - and observe the environment unfold around me: a bamboo grove whistling in the wind or a meandering brook reflecting the midday sun. Basho's words come back to me and describe the moment accurately:

"Sitting silently
Doing nothing
Spring comes
And the grass grows by itself."

The only difference is that it's autumn, but these images of Kyoto have perhaps changed little since Basho composed these words. Surely, a lot has changed since, but even Kyoto's ungainly telephone posts take on a poetic form. Kyoto is so much more beautiful viewed this way - and with tourists like me occupying every piece of space available - surprisingly peaceful and meaningful. The trick is to let go of every impulse to observe Kyoto like everyone else - covering as much ground as possible in the least amount of time. Like Basho, all it takes sometimes is a quiet corner to observe the autumn leaves change - doing nothing, sitting silently - just as Zen monks continue to do today within Kyoto's many temples.

Temples and Gardens.

Ryoan-ji. A visit to Ryoan-ji is perhaps the most meaningful of all. And if there's only one temple to see - this is it. Not because it's the most famous one in Kyoto, but because there is true beauty in its simplicity. We're used to being awed by grand temples like Angkor Wat and the Taj Mahal. Ryoan-ji is in every way different and yet, for me, even more awe-inspiring. Instead of massive structures and intricate art, Ryoan-ji is all about the absence of these. Ryoan-ji - the temple grounds, pond and stone garden - is all about the presence of space. This is the Japanese way - the Zen way. There is beauty in emptiness and reason in non-reason - to borrow a Zen Buddhist teaching.

Empty your mind and let go of expectations. If you come to Ryoan-ji seeking stillness and peace - you won't find it. At least not with too many tourists crowding the place. But if you take your time - the temple empties out and you too will find your quiet space - as I did - right in front of Ryoan-ji's rock garden. Pictures make the garden seem much larger than its thirty meter dimensions. But it doesn't matter. The Zen garden's beauty is precisely in its simplicity and perfect scale in relation to the its surrounding walls and trees. 15 rocks floating on a bed of white gravel are laid out in a way that encourages the mind (or no-mind) to meditate. Some say the garden is a representation of the universe. Again, it doesn't matter what it represents. What matters most is how the garden - and the space around it - connects with something deep inside you. This verse from William Blake comes back to me in my stillness:

"To see the world in a grain of sand
Heaven in a wild flower
To hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour".

Blake, of course, is Western but his words were triggered by the same meditative observation of nature that Ryoan-ji inspires. I have had moments of genuine consciousness in my life - and my time in Ryoan-ji is one of the most powerful moments yet.

The connection you have with Kyoto's temples is a very personal one so seek out the one that best inspires you. Here are other temples to visit:

Kennin-ji. This is another Zen temple and the fact that it's less well known should make it less crowded and therefore give you more space to simply be. You will also have a better chance of observing monks in the grounds and main hall. You really don't have to be into Zen and meditation to experience the beauty of the temple. There's enough "scenery" to make a photographer happy. For one, there's Daio-en - a beautiful rock and white gravel garden similar to Ryoan-ji, a pagoda, tea house and authentic Zen paintings which decorate the main hall's sliding doors.

Daisen-in. For many, Kyoto's rock gardens are often a case of "seen one - seen them all." That may be true for those looking at the city the traditional way: from the point of view of a tourist going after more bang for the buck in terms of experiences to record and mind-blowing memories to accumulate. If you're not into top ten lists then a visit to Daisen-in for even more samples of Zen gardens will be a rewarding detour. The main attraction of the Zen sub-temple is the rock garden in karesansui style where scenes of nature are represented - almost faithfully - using rocks and gravel.

Zuiho-in. If you're starting to develop an interest in Zen rock gardens then you must visit this rather unique temple that integrates Christian icons. This is because the garden was dedicated to a Buddhist feudal lord who converted to Christianity when the Portuguese Jesuits first arrived in Japan. Of particular interest is the Garden of The Cross where rocks form the crucifix and also the Garden of the Blissful Mountain said to represent the Sermon on the Mount.


Chion-in. Make sure temple fatigue doesn't start to kick in because there's so much more to visit if indeed you want to understand the spiritual core of the Japanese. Chion-in is a massive complex and this gives you the chance to find many quiet corners for contemplation. The Hojo garden within is a break from the sparse gravel and rock garden type common in Zen temples and instead infuses grass, shrubs, trees and a pond. Surely, the effect is more ornamental than meditative but when the leaves turn red in the autumn the effect is entirely spiritual.

Chion-in also features the San-mon, a massive main gate which is the largest of its kind in Japan. There's also the Daisho-ro, a grand bell that is 11 feet tall and 9 feet wide. This giant bell is rung 108 times on new year's eve in one of Japan's most important rituals.

Kodai-ji. This sprawling temple complex houses numerous sub-temples, tea houses, gardens and important works of art. In this way, Kodai-ji represents a complete Zen temple experience. But unlike Ryoan-ji which draws you to sit silently and focus on the rock garden, Daitoku-ji makes you want to wander around its many meandering paths that take you through ponds, bamboo groves and manicured gardens.

Kiyomizu. Compared to the others, Kiyomizu may seem unremarkable at first. Not until you catch the majestic views of Kyoto from the elevated wooden veranda of the main temple. It's a breathtaking image of Kyoto that will stay with you forever.


If you still have the time or appetite for more temples, do seek out Ninna-ji and its sprawling complex of pagodas and gardens. I am especially fond of the Koto-in Zen temple because of its beautiful all-moss and tree garden - a different interpretation of the traditional Zen garden. The Japanese maple trees or momi-ji are irresistible in the autumn when the leaves turn a vivid red. The view from the temple veranda is absolutely unforgettable.

One last thing about Kyoto's temples. These are also wonderful places to view traditional Japanese images. On Sundays, the temples are full of women in their kimono best. You won't quite understand what these women are saying but just watching the colorfully dressed graceful images is a delight in itself.





Ryokans.

With so much of traditional Japan seen in Kyoto's temples and gardens by day, why choose to stay in a Western style hotel at night? Instead, stay at a ryokan - the traditional Japanese inns. You can choose from a wide range of ryokans - from theme park-like tourist traps to more authentic luxury inns. Be it high-end or simple, all ryokans share a basic concept: to live, eat and sleep the traditional Japanese way. This means occupying sparsely furnished rooms with tatami flooring and shoji screens that separate sleeping quarters from other activities like dining. The more luxurious ryokans provide views to a traditional Japanese garden and serve gourmet traditional Japanese meals. All ryokans however provide the traditional communal Japanese bath of piping hot water - often overlooking a garden.

Expect the unexpected in a ryokan as the rituals that accompany bathing and sleeping will make you feel rather clumsy and truly gai-jin. Just let go and allow the ryokan staff to do their work - whether it be setting up your futon for the night or putting on your yukata robe before a bath. Read up on ryokan protocol if you don't like embarrassing yourself. Just remember - leave your shoes outside the inn at all times.

Geisha Gazing.

Japan's legendary geisha are a dying breed but Kyoto still gives you the best chance of catching these colorful ladies going about their daily routines in public. Unless you're an insider, it's hard to tell between the more senior geishas and the junior maikos. But it doesn't really matter, these elite ladies who make a living entertaining an equally elite class of men are a remarkable sight - if you do get to catch them.

You might see some of them - often in pairs or groups - walking around Kyoto's Gion entertainment district. Don't think brothels and karaoke bars, though. Geishas entertain behind the closed doors of upscale bars and restaurants but that doesn't mean they deliberately hide themselves from the public. They walk freely - although shyly - around town, but be sure to spot the real ones from poseurs who just want the attention of unsuspecting tourists. The real ones may flash you a smile but will hardly ever stick around for a photo-op. The hedonic culture of geishas is an interesting flip-side to Kyoto's temple culture. It's this duality, often misunderstood by foreigners, that makes Kyoto, and indeed, all of Japan, so wonderfully fascinating.