Kyoto

Urgh. I woke up on Tuesday morning with the overwhelming urge to see temples. LOTS of temples. No.  ALL the temples. "Frenchie!" I cried, "Why have we not yet seen ALL the temples?!" and Frenchie, because he is good, took me to a very fast train, destination All Temples.  Very good.

Three hours later we arrived in Kyoto, city of UNESCO World Heritage temples*, Japanese gardens and geishas (ambiguous - what is their role, exactly?  What should I think of them?  Why am I not allowed in the bars that they work in?). As in Tokyo, there were many, many things that were seen and done, but I'll choose the highlights because even these ended up in a pretty lengthy blog last time.  Some other (more romantic) activities, if you are very interested, are detailed in the wedding gift thank you blog, to be found here: www.emandnicosweddinglist.blogspot.com but I will be ignoring them for this blog and focusing on the Li Hi and intellectual stuff. Romance?  Pah!

Day Four: Capsule Hotel

Japan: famous for small-space living, simplicity and clever storage solutions.  For Frenchie, who introduced me to the life-changing beauty of the Muji packing pocket and the 'proper' folding of clothes, and whose current Christmas present wish list includes a thin leather wires organiser, Japan is a land of cultural and lifestyle resonance. I think he truly feels like he belongs here. 

I'm more of a mess-maker and cosy-chaos appreciator, but was very excited by the concept of spending three nights pretending that I live in a space shuttle (and avoiding insanely expensive Kyoto hotels) in this quintessentially Japanese hotel alternative:

Wow.  Now, to stay in such hotels, you really have to master the art of logistics and following a domestic routine because if you don't follow a set of exact steps, you find yourself without underwear or shoes at a moment where underwear and shoes are very necessary. 

Firstly, you take off your shoes and put them in a very small locker and put on a pair of hotel-issued slippers. Then, you take out and reorganise your Muji packing pockets so that you have your shower stuff, underwear and an outfit for the following day. Then you take the correct gender lift (boys and girls on different floors and the girls' lift does not stop on the boys' floor) and go up to the shower and locker room. You place your Muji pocket and shower stuff in the big locker and remove the hotel-issued flannel pyjamas. Then you take the lift to the sleeping capsules and you remove your slippers, climb into the capsule and change into your flannel pyjamas. Then sleep. 

In the morning, you put on slippers, take the gender lift down to the shower and locker room, open your locker, remove your hotel-issued towel and change of clothes, shower and change, dispose of hotel-issued towel and pyjamas in allocated wash bins, but retain slippers, do your hair and make up opposite a little mirror, collect all your affairs, take the gender lift downstairs, repack the Muji pocket, check out, return slippers and reclaim shoes from the very small locker. 

Safe to say, I only figured out this routine on my last day at the hotel and found myself on numerous occasions caught in the awkward abyss somewhere between locker, flannel pyjamas, underwear and lift. 

Day Four: Murin-an

According to my research, the word 'Kyoto' in old Japanese means 'land of the exhaustive temples and Japanese rock gardens'**. Thus it was only natural for us to plan to visit EVERY temple on offer.  Once we got to about seven, though, we'd figured out the deal and were ready to fill our camera with photos of mountain cemeteries instead (later - be patient). However, on day four, we set out on foot to search for a secluded garden away from the tourist crowds that Frenchie had found in a mystical book of zen known as the Insight Guide.  This garden promised isolation, calm and enlightenment after a very long, sweaty walk of Vinegar Bra proportions from one temple to another. 

The little garden did not disappoint. Down a little road surrounded by residential houses and the zoo (of course) we found a lady sitting in an air conditioned wooden ticket booth waiting with an information leaflet and a small sign that said 'Murin-an'.  Because of the previous walk, I did a lot of sitting and contemplating the big questions of the universe, inspired by the garden: What was for lunch?  Was I satisfied with my new Muji flip flops?  Was there a laundrette nearby to revive my quickly depleting holiday wardrobe?  Should I have applied but spray before leaving the hotel?

Hmm... I'm not convinced I fully understand the Buddhist principles of the Japanese garden and the questions I should be moved to ask myself whilst reposing in one.  From what I've heard, it takes one many lifetimes to reach this enlightened state of understanding - maybe me a few more lifetimes than most - but what I do currently understand is that it's all about Buddhist aesthetics, which in Emma language translates as pretty lines and curves, rocks with deep symbolic meaning, trees with delicate leaves of varying colours through which the light shines in a soothing fashion and carp. Also bridges and tea houses.  I shall read more about it so as to recreate it with the authenticity of deep cultural understanding in my next abode so if you're ever stuck for a housewarming present, a rock, or a goldfish will do just nicely. 

What was also cool about this garden was that it was the historical site for an important discussion between Japanese ministers regarding something to do with the Russo-Japanese War in the early twentieth century (I have heard that this was a war. I was unaware of it before this trip and feel there should be a film).  There was a little house next to the tea room all set out in exactly the way it would have looked in 1903 for this meeting which, admittedly was a fairly simple set up, but it was still cool and sort of re-enacty. 

Day Five: a The Philosopher's Path

Over breakfast on Day Four, Frenchie confidently informed me that today we would be visiting Murin-an, the above garden of calm repose, and also walking along the Philosopher's Path, a small and pretty canal track made famous by a clever man and his wife, who planted 300 cherry trees along it, who walked this path doing lots of thinking, philosophising and meditating. Along said path were many quiet and hidden temples, unmolested by the tourist masses. Cool. 

After we had visited Murin-an, we definitely found the beginning of the path, concealed by a temple and an attractive aqueduct. Satisfied at having found his day's site seeing goal, Frenchie pranced along by the canal eagerly anticipating the emergence of the first hidden temple. 

We saw a disused railway and a hydroelectric works and a small bridge that lead to a hill.  Frenchie, in a sad and lost voice asked me where the temples were. I replied, horrified at having to be the bearer of disappointment, that I did not think that this was the right path, even though it was very pretty and I was having a lovely time.  Unconsoled, Frenchie walked back to the aqueduct, head hanging, potentially hiding tears of deep sadness. He comforted himself later with okonomiake and after a bit if research, we found the real entrance to the path the next day, rented bikes and tried again. 

This time, the legend of the path did not fail us and we had a beautiful walk along the canal ducking in and out of deserted mouse temples and shaded gardens and tea houses and planning our retirement in Japan in a small house overlooking the canal. A nice lady gave us a wooden prayer token for free, upon which we did not write prayers, but instead added to the ever growing stash of souvenirs-we-don't-know-what-to-do-with and we even had a picnic on a bridge and a green tea cappuccino (disgusting) and got to pose for this brilliantly terrible couples photograph where I learnt that in France, they don't sit cross-legged for assemblies in primary school, so such a sitting position is excruciatingly painful to an untrained adult. Who knew?

I prefer this one, where our faces are completely obliterated and you can appreciate the full extension of my freakishly long neck, silhouetted against a pretty Japanese garden.  Can you spot Frenchie's determination to master cross-leggedness?

Days Four - Six: Temples

 There were lots of them and now I have mostly forgotten their names, but they were all very pretty. My favourite might have been the GOLD temple as it offered so many opportunities for honeymoon photo posing and because I got told off by a Spanish man for taking a rubbish photo of him and his wife and he wouldn't let me carry on my visit until I had taken the exact photo he wanted.  Or the RED one, because I arrived, having ridden in a head-down-show-no-weakness sort of mindset, nodding doggedly every time Frenchie turned, with the happy smile of those who have grown up riding bikes in the country, to joyfully cry, "Iz zis not fun?  You can feel ze sense of freedom, no?  'Ow I love ze bicycle!", and promptly achieved zen by falling asleep in the doorway. Frenchie took photos with my camera so that I could always claim that I had visited the RED temple properly, which was very considerate and clever of him, I feel,but I'm happy with accepting that we all achieve tourist enlightenment in different ways.  When we get back, I shall add a very amusing photo of me achieving said enlightenment which I think you will all want to see, so make sure to check the blog again in 7-10 working days!

As promised: completely zen-like state.

* For an amusing story of how UNESCO has previously featured in my life, click here: , http://emmadoessouthamerica.blogspot.jp/2009/09/jesuit-ruins.html

** this is a lie