Kyoto II

I think the best way to see a new city is by foot, and we did a lot of that during my second day in Kyoto. The most exciting times in a new place aren't always the attractions you can read about in guide books and buy postcards of, but the neighborhoods you accidentally stumble into and aren't sure how to find again. I wish could capture that in here, but it's harder to describe a neighborhood than a site or a meal.

First we wandered around "new" downtown Kyoto, winding up in what I can only describe as a "covered bazaar" although I imagine there's a different term more appropriate to this part of the world. It had a mix of secondhand goods, new trendy shops and cute cafes. Rachel mentioned that one time she was in Kyoto, her father took a cooking lesson nearby with a young women who taught westerners to cook every weekend in exchange for the ingredients. At the end of the lesson, everyone sat down and ate the meal together. It seems like an usual (although attractive) arrangement, although I guess she benefited from the free food and the English practice. I guess it's also a way to make your life just a bit different in a very conformist society.

In the bazaar, I found a used bookstore where I bought four books for my flight for under twenty dollars. I was impressed by their selection, and I never would have known it was there.

After that, we took a train to the beginning of the "Philosopher's Walk," a path along a canal through the artist's quarters, named for a philosophy professor who used to walk the route every day while, well, philosophizing. It was a really beautiful stretch and there were interesting craft shops and temples along the way. Apparently, in the spring, the canal path is lined with blooming cherry trees. We stopped at a vegetarian coffee shop for lunch and Rachel and I argued about whether it was "so Burlington" or "so Northwest." The "Silver Pavilion" was along the start of the "Philosopher's Walk." It was supposed to be a counterpart to the Golden Pavilion, but they ran out of money before the silvering took place. It was made of dark wood and at the base of a forested hill and surrounded by zen gardens. Several of them had very large, complicated sand sculptures that were so well-kept that they looked like cement. I had to work really hard to resist the urge to touch one to make sure it was really sand.

At a temple on the other end, there were a lot of sculptures of frogs and other forest creatures. I know I've commented on the different attitude towards drinking in Japan before, but one thing that always surprises me about temples is the huge tanks of sake carefully concealed alongside the temple. I don't think the "blood and body of Christ" is an accurate comparision point but maybe it's a bit like all the ritual glasses of wine during passover.

At the end of the Philosopher's Walk, we were in a neat area with a lot of large old-fashioned buildings. Many of them have roof stone awnings (sorry I don't know a more technical term) that have a hump in the middle, slope down on either side, and curl up on the ends, sort of like the slope of a viking boat. We also saw a still functioning Roman aquaduct that made been built during the Meiji Restoration when Japanese architects were charged with the task of intimidating Western-style architecture. It was strange to see a Roman aquaduct loomig above the traditional Japanese rooftops. It would be a great National Geographic-style quiz: where in the world is this?

To be continued...