Given that today we're willing to call it good and just venture out briefly to the local shops to get the last few bits of Japanish stuff... and also to find a yakitori-ya before we go... there probably won't be much else to blog unless you guys are dying to hear about the cellular death of our hind ends due to sitting for 14 hours. (We're trying to figure out how to say "Benadryl" in Japanese so we can take it and knock ourselves out for a good part of it.)
So, yes... Kiyomizu.
Every photo you have seen of a 3-tiered pagoda with a circular ringed pole coming out of the top of it is this place. It is a matter of great pride to the point that everyone we talked to, able to speak English or not, talked about it or asked if we had seen it. I'll be honest, I had read about it but wasn't too curious. I was too intrigued with the city proper and worried about walking in to a tourist trap.
But Tuesday night, coming back from our fantastic kaiseki meal, I realized I wasn't ready to leave yet and wanted to do something else. So we set up our room for a late check-out, and the next morning we grabbed a cab out to it.
Now, they asked us if we wanted to take the cab up to the entrance, or to be dropped off at the "short path" that led up to it. We said oh, we want to see the path, we're all about the local color.
And then they dropped us off at the foot of a street (NOT A PATH) that was at least a 30% incline the entire way up to the temple, about a quarter of a mile up the side of the mountain. It was hell, and it was scenic with lots of cute little shops that we only partially paid attention to as we huffed and puffed our way up this steep hill.
Once up there, though, it was beautiful. From the balcony off the side of the temple proper you could see the whole of the valley and most of Kyoto, with the Kyoto Tower poking up from near the train station in the distance.
Kiyomizu, as mentioned, was built in to the side of a mountain. It was easy to imagine walking for a day from the old downtown Kyoto to get there, through thick woods, or riding a horse up there as it was so remote. But these days it is a quick train or cab ride and a short walk to be there in that stunning location.
It's obviously popular, as every shop sells the same thing, or a variation of the same thing from top to bottom, with a few spare unique shops that sold hand-carved buddhas or dragons, or hand-made pottery.
There was an interesting mix of Shinto and Buddhist belief at Kiyomizu, with some definite Shinto influence in the pagodas and smaller shrines in the area. There were the Lover's Stones, which we walked between (Bob helped me, so it was a bit of a cheat but okay since he's the one I love.) and shrine maidens manning places to sell you talismans at a moment's notice, in case you suddenly realized you were a bad driver, a bad student, or terribly unlucky at love.
Once you reached the temple proper, however, the bright colors died and it was the color of blackened lacquer, dark eaves and time-worn wood. No bright oranges or turquoises or greens here, the focus was on the Kwan Yin there and the prayer. it made for a surprising comparison in the viewing and photos.
I'll leave you all to read the article as it explains in depth what would take me forever to do. We drank fro mteh 3 fountains, picked up a few final souvenirs, enjoyed a walk through the trees and ferns there, and then finally being willing to say goodbye, we made our way back to the hotel and checked out.
A few minutes and a crazy taxi ride later and we were dropped off at the JR rail station. A 2 hour Shinkansen ride later and we were once again in Tokyo, Shinjuku Ward, and fording the human sea of people.
For a look at Kiyomizu, though, give a click here.
It's interesting. I must completely recall my comment of the city as being "gray" for some reason in the weather the colors are coming out more now. maybe they were there and the sun wasso bright I spent my time squinting and not looking. But now the umbrellas, the purses, the scarves and jewelry all flash bits of color. When we got out and away from the waves of salarymen and women the teens and twenty somethings sported T-shirts with colorful logos and pastel shades. So... it is not Tokyo that is gray. It is Shinjuku that is gray, and its workers. Tokyo itself when it is not in the midst of getting to employment is awash in flashes of brightness and lights and levity. I wonder if I did us a disservice by choosing a hotel here and making this our first impression of the country. Too late now, but I am very glad that it did decide to rain these past few days to give us that other view of what it's like, and the sneak peak at personal preference via rain hoods or umbrella shades.
By the way, they have some awesome umbrellas here. Some made of lace and embroidery just for the sun (which the women use liberally) and some with great patterns that hold off the rain. It caught me off guard to see them both.
Here are the photos from Nekobukuro for those interested.
Time to run out and start the day. Lunch and a quick run through some local shops in the misty rain. Let me share with you:
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