A day of wonders
Woke in the middle of the night and wrote a poem, then up again at 6 to catch up on my diary, which is eventually making its way to this blog when I get the opportunity. Set off out into Kyoto with Toby and Romy early. Lovely sunny morning. The hotel is near a river and it looked at times like a woodblock print because of all the birds seeming like emblems of Japan. There were big black crows, snow white cranes standing next to dignified herons, black snakey necked cormorants. And scooting about on the water were the odd familiar mallard. Ghosting about above were hawks of some description which our taxi driver said had come to feed on rubbish.
Kyoto is a lovely city. We threaded through backstreets which reminded me faintly of Paris until we found a coffee shop run by a very pleasant lady, and dominated by a big stuffed seabass.
We returned to the hotel, met up with Hiroko and Jennifer and set off for the historic part of town. The loveliness of Kyoto had not prepared me for the historic part of town. It is simply stunning. Everything seems to have been art directed by the Gods. Attention to detail is everywhere and where there is an opportunity for colours to harmonise it is taken. For example we stopped for some tea at some point in a little tea shop. The foamy tea was pea green and they had selected just the right bowl to set off the colours. Even their clothes and the colours of the walls harmonised. The Japanese aesthetic is so finely tuned. Wonderful.
We started off by being dropped in a narrow climbing street flanked with perfect little shops and walked uphill to a Buddhist temple called Kiyomizu Dera. It is a complex of buildings dominated by a bright red three storied pagoda, and the amazing Hondo -- the wooden temple structure. At most temples you can get your fortune by paying a few yen and selecting a boxwood stick from a tube that you shake. Hiroko translated mine and it was a very good one I got a good fortune luckily. If you don`t like your reading you can tie it to a tree or a frame at the temple and leave it behind you. Which Romy did with her one.
Then we went to the spring where people were enthusiastically gulping the water from the mountain. After this temple we walked for hours, down little sloping stone paved streets, pausing here and there at a series of breathtaking temples. I remember standing in one, copying the locals by washing myself in incense smoke and having a wonderful moment of stillness and cheer. Life seemed very good and full of possibilities. Then we threaded along by a long stream called the philosopher`s walk and ended up at Hiroko's favourite: the silver temple Ginkakuji. I will post lots of photos when I get back to England here. It is not actually silver, but is reckoned by the discerning to be one of the best.
We`d stopped off for some noodles and after the silver temple headed back to the hotel.
In the evening we regrouped in the wonderful hotel bar and gargled down G&Ts, (Hiroko had something called a Salty Dog). Then we wandered down to an area Pontocho Alley - a bustling narrow street lined with restaurants. Lots of red lanterns, guys talking on mobile phones, and a group of drunken young salarymen all dressed nearly identically.
We went to an Italian restaurant, ate raw fish and traditional "western" delicacies such as croquette potatoes, garlic bread, and pieces of pizza eaten with chopsticks were found among other Japanese food.
After supper the others went home and Hiroko and me set off for some karaoke. Drink, it has to be said, had been taken. As you know, I have many talents, but singing is not one of them. It is a surprisingly penetrating but tuneless drone. Anyway we found an intimate little room and we sat down at the bar (the only seats in the place) and the two of us had many drinks and sung the night away. I pause now to remember my execrable version of Buffalo Soldier by the immortal Bob Marley, complete with faux Jamaican stylings and my toes are curling like Catherine wheels. And the less said about my essays into the Lennon McCartney songbook the better. Hiroko however has a wondrous singing voice and received warm applause each time she sang. We had an excellent night, Hiroko flirting with a silver haired fox of a gent who turned out to be an author, and me chatting with the barmaid and everyone in the tiny bar. Alcohol is the best translator.
Lurched back late with Hiroko to the Hotel some time after midnight. Toby has a most excellent mother in law when it comes to having a night on the town.
Woke in the middle of the night and wrote a poem, then up again at 6 to catch up on my diary, which is eventually making its way to this blog when I get the opportunity. Set off out into Kyoto with Toby and Romy early. Lovely sunny morning. The hotel is near a river and it looked at times like a woodblock print because of all the birds seeming like emblems of Japan. There were big black crows, snow white cranes standing next to dignified herons, black snakey necked cormorants. And scooting about on the water were the odd familiar mallard. Ghosting about above were hawks of some description which our taxi driver said had come to feed on rubbish.
Kyoto is a lovely city. We threaded through backstreets which reminded me faintly of Paris until we found a coffee shop run by a very pleasant lady, and dominated by a big stuffed seabass.
We returned to the hotel, met up with Hiroko and Jennifer and set off for the historic part of town. The loveliness of Kyoto had not prepared me for the historic part of town. It is simply stunning. Everything seems to have been art directed by the Gods. Attention to detail is everywhere and where there is an opportunity for colours to harmonise it is taken. For example we stopped for some tea at some point in a little tea shop. The foamy tea was pea green and they had selected just the right bowl to set off the colours. Even their clothes and the colours of the walls harmonised. The Japanese aesthetic is so finely tuned. Wonderful.
We started off by being dropped in a narrow climbing street flanked with perfect little shops and walked uphill to a Buddhist temple called Kiyomizu Dera. It is a complex of buildings dominated by a bright red three storied pagoda, and the amazing Hondo -- the wooden temple structure. At most temples you can get your fortune by paying a few yen and selecting a boxwood stick from a tube that you shake. Hiroko translated mine and it was a very good one I got a good fortune luckily. If you don`t like your reading you can tie it to a tree or a frame at the temple and leave it behind you. Which Romy did with her one.
Then we went to the spring where people were enthusiastically gulping the water from the mountain. After this temple we walked for hours, down little sloping stone paved streets, pausing here and there at a series of breathtaking temples. I remember standing in one, copying the locals by washing myself in incense smoke and having a wonderful moment of stillness and cheer. Life seemed very good and full of possibilities. Then we threaded along by a long stream called the philosopher`s walk and ended up at Hiroko's favourite: the silver temple Ginkakuji. I will post lots of photos when I get back to England here. It is not actually silver, but is reckoned by the discerning to be one of the best.
We`d stopped off for some noodles and after the silver temple headed back to the hotel.
In the evening we regrouped in the wonderful hotel bar and gargled down G&Ts, (Hiroko had something called a Salty Dog). Then we wandered down to an area Pontocho Alley - a bustling narrow street lined with restaurants. Lots of red lanterns, guys talking on mobile phones, and a group of drunken young salarymen all dressed nearly identically.
We went to an Italian restaurant, ate raw fish and traditional "western" delicacies such as croquette potatoes, garlic bread, and pieces of pizza eaten with chopsticks were found among other Japanese food.
After supper the others went home and Hiroko and me set off for some karaoke. Drink, it has to be said, had been taken. As you know, I have many talents, but singing is not one of them. It is a surprisingly penetrating but tuneless drone. Anyway we found an intimate little room and we sat down at the bar (the only seats in the place) and the two of us had many drinks and sung the night away. I pause now to remember my execrable version of Buffalo Soldier by the immortal Bob Marley, complete with faux Jamaican stylings and my toes are curling like Catherine wheels. And the less said about my essays into the Lennon McCartney songbook the better. Hiroko however has a wondrous singing voice and received warm applause each time she sang. We had an excellent night, Hiroko flirting with a silver haired fox of a gent who turned out to be an author, and me chatting with the barmaid and everyone in the tiny bar. Alcohol is the best translator.
Lurched back late with Hiroko to the Hotel some time after midnight. Toby has a most excellent mother in law when it comes to having a night on the town.
Below some Maiko speeding by in rickshaws like filmstars. Hiroko: "ugly". Stone paved streets, a massive temple gateway. Toby and Romy having climbed the gateway, the Silver Temple Ginkakuji.
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