Day 9 Kyoto

Let me say upfront that this is one of the worst days of the trip for me. At least, it ended like that.
The day started out bright and sunny as we made our way via subway and bus to Daitokuji. This sprawling temple complex is in the northwestern corner of Kyoto, far from the main tourist drags of Higashiyama. We expected it to be quieter and so it was.

The first of the temples we visited was Korin-in, built between 1521 and 1533. It was quiet enough that we could enjoy the pared down karesansui, the dry landscape garden. We sat there for a while to reflect and listen to each other's interpretation on what the design was all about. Someone said it looked like islands in the sea. I don't know, but it was peaceful just sitting there and thinking for a bit. A nice comma in the midst of all the travel.

We chose Korin-in because I wanted the children to visit at least one Zen rock garden. After all, sand and stone are not exactly what comes to mind when the word garden is mentioned. Yet the starkness of the karesansui is precisely what lends it open to interpretation and in my opinion, any garden that engages the senses and pleases the eye would have done what it was designed to do. In the sand and the stones and their careful placement, one can find meaning if one pauses to think yet it can also be enjoyed for its clean, spare and austere lines.

The obvious choice for most visitors would be to visit the iconic but very crowded Ryoanji - also in the northwestern corner of Kyoto. But that would mean battling crowds again and from all the write-ups I've seen, this means the noise factor, the crowds etc will all detract from giving us the space and serenity needed to contemplate the garden. Hence we decided on Korin-in. Less well-known, quieter but also intriguing.

Korin-in also had a lovely mossy garden running along its sides. The reds, not at their peak, were not showy, but the pale green and orange-red blends to a very soothing combination.

From the gravel and rock Zen garden of Korin-in, we walked past various other temples and sub-temples. Daitokuji was large but most ofthe other temples, hidden behind ochre walls and bamboo, were closed to the public.

It didn't really matter to us because we were heading, along with a growing steady stream of visitors, to the small but very pretty Koto-in.

Koto-in is built by a famous samurai known to be an expert in the tea ceremony. Sansai, who built this temple, is known to be one of the seven best pupils of the tea ceremony master Senno Rikyu. Well, I don't know much about the tea ceremony, but the gardens are really pretty. We were not the only ones. The place was pretty crowded but it was not the sort of people crush you would otherwise get at Higashiyama. In certain parts of the garden, the trees and foliage are at full autumn bloom and the reds get so intense that they seem almost luminescent and unreal. You almost feel as if someone did a Photoshop on these colours.

We left Koto-in while Trin had a meltdown. While trying to calm her as we carried her down one of the lanes leaving the Daitokuji complex, a cheerful voice said: "Little baby, why are you crying?" You could hear the big smile in the voice as we turned to find a monk, quite colourfully and regally garbed, complete with headgear, beaming at Trin as he patted her on the head and went on his way.

It was a fleeting encounter but it left a nice warm feeling with us. Outside Daitokuji, we paused for a quick lunch. As usual, we raided the combini nearby. But this time, we ate at the bus-stop, attracting some curious stares from passengers in buses that stopped there. It was very cold!

Negotiating the city buses was not difficult. The bus guide was useful. We had no difficulty finding our way to our next stop - Kinkakuji - the golden pavilion. The crowd at the Kinkakuji bus-stop left us in doubt which was the right stop to alight at!

The approach to the temple was beautiful with maples and gingkoes in full spectacular bloom. It was crowded as befitted a star attraction like Kinkakuji, but because the grounds are big, we never felt hemmed in.

Kinkakuji literally glowed. Even as the skies were grey and a fine drizzle misted the air, the building seemed to have a luminous sheen to it. This is not original of course, but a reproduction, since the original was burned to the ground by a monk about 50 years ago. Still, the scene of Kinkakuji reflected in the still waters of the pond is a classic sight, eponymous with Japan.

From Kinkakuji, we debated where to go. It had started to rain, not drizzle. We decided to join the throngs at the bus-stop and head for Kyoto station for an early dinner, giving Ryoanji a miss, since it was already about 4pm and getting dark. As usual, the bus was PACKED. Even though it was supposed to be an 'express' bus, it still took us the better part of an hour to get to Kyoto station. We were standing all the way, with the exception of Trin who demanded to sit. She sat in the midst of a bunch of Vietnamese tourists who were generally friendly and curious about Trin and about where we came from. The group was bunch of guys and girls who looked like they were in their early 20s with the girls perching on the guys' laps and encroaching into the next passenger's personal space - mine and Trin's. Okay, I was grumpy at having to stand, being jostled in what seemed like an unending journey. But they were friendly and they tried to be nice.

They offered her a mint and silently I was going: No-oooo!! I knew what would happen - Trin would happily accept, hold it in her mouth until the sweetness left and coolness started, whereupon she would shake her head and gesture to spit out. We were in a moving bus. It was so packed that I could barely get one hand into my bag. So NOT a good idea to give the baby mints! Resignedly, I could only watch as all that unfolded.

We reached Kyoto station with the windows fogged up from the breath and body heat of many packed into a tight, small space, like cattle. The bus driver was still unfailingly polite: Arigato gozaimasushita, he went, for every passenger. Owain asked why he had to keep saying that to everyone. I wondered if it was all on auto-pilot.

I was grumpy for another reason - I had lost my Lonely Planet and that was a library book. I racked my brains to recall where I had left it and the most logical place was a ledge on a bridge about 300m from Kyoto station where we had passed through earlier that morning. So I deposited KH and the kids at a ramen joint in the basement of Kyoto station and made my way, in the growing dark and in the rain, back to the bridge.

I didn't find it.

The bridge handrail was too thin for anything to rest on, so I could not have left it there. Back I went to Kyoto station, asking at the bus counter where they helpfully called the Kitaoji bus terminal to check - nada. Resigned to its loss, I went back to the ramen joint where everyone had eaten. A bit tired of ramen, I had something else - Japanese pasta in cream sauce with mentaiko, seaweed and a raw yolk - yummy! Even more yummy was the fact that I savoured my alone-ness for that brief period, as if I was alone in Japan and enjoying a nice meal at a counter in a pasta joint. Pity it didn't last long.

When I finished, we decided to head back to K's House. We decided to take a bus which would bring us closest to K's House. That would save us a walk in the rain and it would only take less than 10min by bus. Easy right? Wrong. I got the bus number right. But the direction was wrong. Instead of heading towards Shichijo-dori on the east, it turned west. Mind you, it was night by then and the rain was steadily falling. We tried counting the bus-stops and getting landmarks but in the dark and rain, everything looked different. We got off the bus and tried to figure out where we were and where the nearest bus-stop was. Logically, it was simple right? Just cross the road and take the next bus back to Kyoto station. Except that it wasn't.

First, the bus-stop was not "just across the road". It was down 150m, across a busy intersection and we didn't know which direction it was - north or south. There was only ONE bus heading back to Kyoto station and that would take another 40min to arrive.

While we waited, huddled under a shopfront's tiny awning - the bus-stop had no shelter - another bus trundled by. We saw the sign - Kyoto Station - and flagged it down. It was not crowded but only after getting on did we realise we could not use our Kyoto transport pass. By then, we didn't really care - we were just tired after a whole day of walking, tired of being lost and tired of the incessant rain and the cold.

Again logical thing to do was to stay on board until the bus reached Kyoto station right? Wrong! KH got antsy at the long line of vehicles turning into Kyoto station and fretted that it would be "faster to get down and walk back to K's House". Looking at the map, it did not look far.

What to do? Maps can be so frustratingly deceiving! And my dear husband can be so exasperatingly stubborn that its just not funny anymore! First, the rain was really coming down. So I said, let's stop and put on our raincoats. No, went he - no need, its not a lot of rain, too much hassle etc etc. But looking at the rain, I had had enough and I put my foot down. Raincoats out! I buttoned everyone up, hands shaking and teeth chattering. Lucky for us I did.

Did we reach K's House? Yes. Eventually. After trudging more than a kilometre in the rain, the cold etc, trying to recognise landmarks. I had half a mind to just hail a cab but Mr Stiff-Upper-Lip did not see the need to. So we trudged. Or straggled. I seethed. By the time we got back to K's House, what would have just taken us just 10min from Kyoto station, took more than an hour. The raincoats were dripping (so much for "Its not so much rain!"), our shoes were wet and we were all tired from our impromptu walk.

The hot water showers were blissful! Meanwhile, Mr Anti-Social KH had succeeded in burning out a hair dryer as he attempted to dry his shoes. A pungent burn smell combined with wet shoe smell permeated the corridors. When I came out to use the hairdryer, it didn't work. And the nice American lady I met the night before said: "I could smell the burning wire from my room. Someone must have burned the hairdryer." I knew who it was of course...

Thankfully, it was movie night so KH and the kids stayed in the TV room while I spaced out in my bunk. I needed the space. I was still annoyed. On top of all his bad decisions that night, what made me stew was his smug assertion that it was the "Italian factor" that was responsible for our lemon experience.

What was the "Italian factor"? Let me explain. Many years ago, we visited Italy and fell in love. We loved it so much we went back again the second time. But second time was not so lucky - the weather was bad, and somehow, the places we went to had lost its charm. So the trick, he always said, is NEVER go back to a country which you liked when you travelled there previously. Things will always go wrong and your experience would be lousy.

This time, he had issued the usual doom-and-gloom warnings about returning to Japan. The "Italian factor" he reminded me darkly. And this night's experience seemed to match all his dire warnings. The "I told you so" really stung. So I was in my bunk brooding and licking my wounds.

Kyoto, I feel, has no chemistry with us. The last time we were here, the same thing happened - bad weather, drama at Tofukuji, same bad bus ride experience and so on. But I disagreed with KH about the "Italian factor". I still enjoyed the other parts of Japan and I was still madly in love. True, the first flush of love is not there, but Japan is still fresh enough for me to provide some unexpected delightful surprises.

Its just... Kyoto. Or me?

Everyone inevitably gushes about Kyoto so I really feel like some kind of oddball, or cultural neanderthal to not fall in love with it as everyone else does. I tried, I really did. Two experiences with Kyoto and both have left me cold. I just find it hard to make a positive, emotional connection with the place. By and large, I find the people not as warm as Tokyo-ites (with the exception of a handful), the weather always sucky in general (grey, gloomy, cold and wet!) and the bus service really really needs an overhaul! I feel bad complaining about SBS and SMRT when I'm in Kyoto! We really have it much better here at home.

Ah well, just chalk it down to bad luck and no chemistry I guess.

As a footnote, I realised that I had left the Lonely Planet in K's House after all - thank God! Someone found it and returned it to the reception counter. But being happy about the book just made me madder that I had to trudge all the way back to the bridge and back to look for it! Grr...

Day 8 Kyoto

We took the Thunderbird from Kanazawa station to Kyoto in the morning. Skimming past the shores of Lake Biwa, Japan's largest lake, the morning sun in my eyes, the lake was an endless stretch of silver water rimmed by hills and small towns. As we pulled into Kyoto station, a sense of familiarity and excitement set in as we recognised landmarks.

From Kyoto station it was a 10-minute walk to K's House Kyoto. I wanted to experience different types of accomodation on this trip and K's House provided the hostel experience. The building (painted in yellow) and its extension, was modern and clean. Our room was an 8-bedded dorm. Because of the size of our group, we paid to have the whole dorm to ourselves. Toilets and bathrooms are communal and just next door.

We dropped the bags off at the hostel's luggage room and zoomed out for sight-seeing. In autumn night falls early at 5pm and we didn't want to miss any daylight sightseeing hours, especially since it already took us the better part of the morning just to get to Kyoto from Kanazawa.

It was a short 150m walk down Shichijo-dori and across the Kamo-gawa to take the bus to our first stop - Kiyomizudera. I had bought the 2-day city bus and subway pass (which I felt was a bit pricey at 2000yen per adult) and so armed with a bus map, we took the public bus. As usual, the bus was packed with people! My bus experience in Kyoto has never been good and this was no exception.

This picture shows the kids at the Kamo gawa. In the background, you can see a short white buidling, that's the entrance to the Keihan Shichijo station. The Kamo-gawa was wide but not deep and in places near the banks, I think you could even wade in and play in the summer. But for now, no, not in this cold!

It was not far to Higashiyama from the hostel, barely 4 or 5 stops but the traffic was bad and the bus was crowded so it took a while. We'd been to Kiyomizudera (or, Clear Water Temple) before but wanted to go again because the last time we went, it was drizzly and getting dark and we totally missed the Jishu Jinja, the small shrine for love and marriage. We also missed the Tainai Meguri the last time.

To get to Kiyomizudera, you have to climb a steepish hill, flanked with shops. Its really commercialised and touristy and every other shop either sells souvenirs or pricey drinks/snacks. I have to give Trin credit for walking like the rest of us, for most of the way. Its not easy going uphill and being smooshed on all sides by the thick crowd.

Made it! At the entrance to Kiyomizudera at last!

Just before you enter the temple proper, on the left side of the grounds, there is a small building. This has the usual store that sells the omamori, the charms etc. You can also try your luck at the omikuji (fortune slips) here. But far more interesting and less noticed by the hordes of visitors to the temple, is the Tainai Meguri. This is probably one of the strangest places to visit but pretty fun for everyone!

The Tainai Meguri is said to be the womb of Daizuigu Bosatsu. The last time we went, we completely missed this despite also doing the omikuji routine at the same place! But this time, having read the Lonely Planet about the Tainai and given that there were now temple workers who explained what it was all about, it was easy to find. You pay 100yen, take off your shoes and descend down into a dark cave where you follow a beaded wooden handrail which leads in a loopy fashion to a huge stone. The English translation from the Kiyomizudera website says something like: "Return to the womb of great merciful mother. When you find a light in the dark you will realize you are newborn again. There is a Sanskrit character that symbolized Daizuigu Bosatsu on the stone. Turn the stone and make a wish."

Not much different from our experience in Zenkoji, but this one less atmospheric because it was more crowded and it was not entirely pitch dark - which KH was fervently grateful for. At the point where the big stone was, there was a shaft of light. We all stood around the stone and turned it, making our (rather noisy!) wishes! The kids enjoyed it tremendously though and thought it was a great deal of fun!

Fresh from our 'rebirth' , the kids pestered to do the omikuji. It was simple - shake the box, a numbered stick will fall out, present to the lady behind the counter with 100yen and she will issue you with the fortune slip. The kids all took turns to do this. I was the go-to girl for interpreting the fortune slips. Let me say that I can't read Japanese so the best I can do is tell you whether the fortune is good or bad, but forget about translating the details!
Here's Gillian and Owain getting the omikuji. Owain is so independent that he did it all by himself - shaking the box, getting the money and the stick to the lady. I think other kids, even other adults, might be a bit intimidated about doing this without knowing a scrap of Japanese but Owain just went right ahead while the rest of us were busy looking at each other's fortune slips.

As usual, most of us had good or exceptionally good fortune while KH and Gillian once again, drew slips which were not so good. To discard the bad fortune, all you had to do was tie them to the racks conveniently provided.

Kiyomizudera was super crowded. On hindsight, I realised that we must have ended up in Kyoto over a long weekend again. It was a marvel how the wooden platforms, so iconic of Kiyomizudera, did not collapse under the weight of the massive crowd, especially since they must be several hundreds of years old!

Yep, it's a steep drop and a lo-ong way down. Trin looks rather precariously perched there doesn't she? Centuries ago, it was said that whoever jumps from this point and lives will get his wish come true. Well, sure! If you can jump from here and still live, heck, life - even a shitty one - will start to look real good to you! Luckily some common sense prevailed and no one does it any more!

And finally, here we are at the Jishu jinja shrine. Its a quaint place atop a small hill. The shrine is dedicated to love and marriage. So the charms sold here are mostly those dedicated to success in love, although the usual ones for examinations, good luck, health, wealth, longevity, traffic safety etc are still there.

The interesting bit about this place is the pair of 'love stones'. These are two small boulders set about 18m apart. It is said that if you close your eyes, and call or think about, the name of your loved one, and can walk from one stone to the next succesfully - without assistance, you will find success in love. If you can't, well, time to get a new partner.

Because KH, Gillian and Caitlin had rushed off to the toilet with Trin who badly needed to pee, only the boys and I went to the Jishu shrine. The two of them had a lot of fun up there. Both attempted to close their eyes and walk (without cheating!) from one stone to the other.

Did they make it from one stone to the other while closing their eyes? Not by a mile! Despite bumping into amused passers-by, the boys failed in their mission. Owain, our would-be Romeo, was chagrined to miss and kept insisting he wanted to try again until he got it!
Owain and his effort for 'love'!

Isaac and I also tried this interesting activity where you literally 'dissolve' your troubles away. You simply write down all your woes, your troubles and problems on a piece of paper and then dissolve it in a bucket of water from the shrine.

Does it work? Well, I wrote about my impending move down to another office and how I disliked the tight space and lack of privacy. Today, I was told I'd have to move in two days!! So you tell me...

Such a lovely day eh? Skies were blue and trees ablaze. I soaked in this scene for all of 10 minutes before my phone rang and an irate KH demanded that we come out to the main entrance again. He and the girls had difficulty in finding the restroom for Trin who was frantic to pee. They ended up in a desperate rush right out of the temple grounds (quite some distance away) and even then, not making it in time. Trin ended up peeing her pants.

By the time I got there, Trin was sitting primly on the stone step, looking solemn. The daddy was fuming mad and the two girls tried to fill in the blanks. So with this scenario, the rest of Kiyomizudera was shot. We never made it back in and down to the little grotto to 'take the waters' for longevity, health and wisdom. So our second visit to Kiyomizudera also ended abruptly like this.

It all went downhill from here. Literally.

We battled the crowds downhill, looking for the turn-off to Ninnenzaka and Sannenzaka (two of Kyoto's most picturesque streets, with restored wooden houses, cobblestoned streets). Chalk it down to physical discomfort (who would like to walk in pee-soaked pants right?), fatigue and no nap-time. A fatal combination for Trin who spotted an ice-cream stand and when denied it, screamed blue murder. She wailed and screamed in the crowd so piercingly that we had disapproving looks shot at us. On top of that, we had to carefully negotiate the steep stone steps downwards, all the time being pushed and pulled by the crowd.

Kyoto's prettiest streets? I never saw 'em. I was too busy smouldering, angry, embarrassed and grimly carrying a banshee howling right in my ears. Nothing would appease her. We offered to get her an ice-cream down the street as we walked - no go. She wanted THAT ice-cream and THAT only. KH had to backtrack up the hill, leaving us at the foot of the steps, Trin still screaming away, to get the monster her ice-cream. Once the cone was in her hand - instant peace. Honestly, I could have strangled her and I am not joking. This was a constant recurring scene throughout Japan. All the other kids wanted to kill her at some point or other. We were busy fantasising about the many different ways we could do this. It kept us sane.

By the time of this meltdown in the streets of Kyoto, the other kids had grown immune to this. Previously, they would all look at her aghast and horrified at the screaming. Some would be trying to comfort her or distract her or scold her. But this time, the other kids just rolled their eyes and played among themselves. It was no longer a biggie to them.

Look at that face. You'd never know it, looking at her, but the amount of noise that can come out of that cute little face can rival a jet. Under that perky exterior, lurks the tantrum monster.

Travelling is hard on everyone but especially for someone so young who needs some form of daily routine to feel stable and when you travel, this is near impossible since there are schedules to be kept to, places to go, trains and buses to catch etc. So while I am really furious over her tantrums, there is a part of me that can understand why she acts up. Still, that does not prevent the rest of us from getting upset with her. We all feel angry and resentful because we're kept hostage to her moods. This trip, we gave in a lot to her because we just needed to have the quiet back and to move on with the itinerary. But that also added to our resentment because she kept getting her way. Thankfully now that we're home, she has fewer outbursts (which proves my point about travel stress on young children) and even when she does, its easier to manage without the constant giving in. We've learned to evade, ignore, distract - tools we learned the hard way in Japan. So this trip has been a real learning journey for all of us, in more ways than one.

So tantrum over, emotionally exhausted (me - not her. Tantrums really do take a lot out of everyone, me in particular and I always need time to wind down from the tension), we sat for a whole and then moved on, heading towards Yasaka jinja. We paused along the way to admire the sunset from the hillock housing Kodaiji and for the kids to run their hands round the sutras rings for luck and for me to get a lovely piece of calligraphy from the temple. But with admission charges of 800yen per adult, ominous dark skies, light drizzle and Trin's stinky wet pants, we decided against exploring the temple further. Pity because Kodaiji has one of Kyoto's loveliest gardens and its autumn foliage was near its peak.

We moved on to Yasaka jinja. It's a bustling place even though the grounds seem huge. I got my calligraphy done again and we had some takoyaki - whereupon Cait choked on a piece of octopus and threw up. Sigh, the drama that accompanies me when I travel with kids!

The best part of Yasaka jinja was not so much the shrine itself - although when it was all lit up at dusk, it was truly beautiful - but the food! This guy (below) was selling some of the best steak I'd ever had - on a stick! We were actually about to leave Yasaka when the smell caught and held us back - grilled beef! He was doing a very brisk trade with a sizeable queue. Thick slabs of tender, melt-in-your-mouth beef, marinaded in red wine. My gosh, it was sheer heaven! I have never had such tender soft flavourful beef - even good steak houses here do not offer beef this good.

Everyone clamoured for more and KH had to queue up several times before we were all contented. And even then, we had to stop because it was quite pricey for a street snack at 400yen a stick. The taste of the beef, hot steam rising from the stick, amid the cold air and the colour of the shrine - these stay in my memory today.



We wandered from Yasaka through the crowded streets of Gion, down Pontocho. We saw geishas hurrying off to their appointments. One gave me a quiet smile as she disappeared down a dimly lit alley dotted with lanterns. It seemed almost surreal that amid the crowds and the chatter, these enigmatic women dressed in brocaded finery appear and then just as quickly, fade away.

Bread from a bakery, kyoto sushi rolls in a window, we stopped to look and to taste before we decided the day had gone as long as it had for us and it was time to head back. Plus Trin was still in stinky pants!

Dinner was McDonalds across the Keihan Shichijo station and then it was back to the hostel. The children were surprised that they had to make their own beds! Isaac said he was not surprised, but the look on his face belied that. Hah, have to say that KH made most of the beds including mine - it was army training - he made beds with sheets so taut coins could bounce off!

So there were eight bunks in the room and each of us had our own. The shower was clean and the water was hot, the pressure was good. The washing machine and dryer worked great so we did a laundry load. KH explored the place while I stayed in to plan the next day's sightseeing. The lounge was full of other fellow travellers, many with laptops, or using the hostel computers. It seemed like a jolly place.

I met a nice American lady in her 60s who had travelled to Singapore before and we spent some time chatting in front of the shower room. She had spent two to three days here and was full of praise for the country's "cleanliness" and "efficiency". But other than that encounter, I was not very sociable - wrong type of person to stay in a hostel like K's.