A man with a plan

Once it had been decided I would return to Kyoto, on my own and with six days to amuse myself, I immediately set about preparing a monster spreadsheet of locations to visit.

I purchased a book titled “Autumn Colours of Kyoto”, which lists forty nine locations recommended for viewing the autumnal displays. Further web searching revealed further candidates, and I eventually had fifty five potential sites to visit. This was an impossible target in the time available; so I started to mark various factors against each site in an attempt to draw up a shortlist. Then I became bored with the project and the list languished until the day I left; so I just printed it and decided I would work things out when I arrived.

Discussions with Ian, the owner of my B&B, added more possible locations and in the end I just gave up. There are more than 2,000 temples and shrines in Kyoto and I had neither the time or desire to visit them all. Instead I chose an area to visit each day and planned to wander around visiting the main sites and then seeing what I stumbled across. The printed spreadsheet stayed in my room and I never looked at it again. So much for my plan.

First day there, and in the absence of any sleep the previous night, I decided to explore the area near my accommodation, and first on the list to visit was Ginkakuji-in temple. Some things were immediately evident. Firstly, the photos in the “Autumn Colours of Kyoto” had obviously been taken under privileged conditions as they showed the various sites free of hordes of tourists; whereas I had to contend with busloads of senior citizens being continuously disgorged onto the path in front of me and blocking my view. Plus, it was evident that the colours of the foliage in the book meant that each photo had been taken at a perfect point in the autumnal season. But 2013 had been very wet, and not cold enough, and the colours were not fully developed during the duration of my stay.

Never mind, I was in Kyoto, I had six days to enjoy the colours that were on display, and I would just have to work around the thousands of Japanese who were doing the same thing.

There are two main types of temples in Japan. The first is a massive wooden construct, such as the Saamon gate at Tokufuji temple:

The second is a much more dinky affair, often constructed for a nobleman to sit and contemplate life, and therefore usually surrounded by a garden suitable for contemplation. Ginkakuji-in temple was one of these:

Built as a retirement home for a shogun in 1482, it was converted to a zen temple after his death in 1490. You can’t go inside the main building, but there is plenty to enjoy in the garden, in particular the dry sand creations:

The last construct is known as the “moon viewing platform” and is intended to represent Mount Fuji.

Apart from all the sand, the gardens are worth a wander around and I spent a pleasant hour or so in the Sunday afternoon sunshine in the company of my fellow tourists. Here are some shots:

Comments 🔗

2013-11-26 | jon says

Spectacularly beautiful………….. how do they keep cats off the sand sculptures?

2013-11-26 | Spike says

The same way they keep the dogs off.

2013-11-27 | ChristianPFC says

The moon viewing platform, how do you get there (on top) without leaving steps in the sand? I there a stairway in the rear (i.e. the part invisible in the photo)?

2013-11-28 | Ivo says

Thanks Spike for showing such a beautiful world I have never been to with beautiful photos, realizing that here in LOS there might be a lot smiling but not much brilliant architecture & art design.

2013-11-28 | Spike says

This tells you a little more about the importance of the moon in Japanese garden design: http://www.jnto.go.jp/eng/indepth/cultural/kie/moon/kie_moon_02.html

I expect the title is largely symbolic, but if the shogun climbed the mound to be at one with the moon; no doubt he had many minions to sort out the sand after he had disrupted it.

2013-11-28 | Spike says

Japan is certainly at a different level; considered, minimalist and not a trace of heavy concrete and plastic.

2013-11-28 | Andrew says

Actually when I lived there concrete was a considered “modern” design influence - I have been in bars where the walls were plain concrete after the forms were pulled off….that not withstanding, most of the “traditional” stuff is best described by “kihin” a word that was translated to me as “refined/ subdued elegance” - although trying to find a better definition online only came up with “aroma” or “noble visitor " neither of which come close…(although I suppose the aroma of a noble visitor was nothing to sneeze at …) attention to detail is somewhat close and abstaining from Mae West’s " too much of a good thing is….wonderful”…is probably another…the most interesting thing to me is that the attitude of design pervades the whole place pretty much…from a large building to a small coffee shop…and from a famous garden to someone’s ( extremely small ) back yard garden…