After Tuesday's dream-like and wonderful day spent at Fushimi Inari-taisha everything appeared to fall apart. I knew that our journey through the torii would lead us to a different world and unfortunately it seemed we had gone from one where everything was going swimmingly to a disaster zone: our long-distance financial management was looking terrible and we spent the evening bickering, then not sleeping well due to too much tension; the next day it poured down relentlessly all day and night; the overnight bus we needed to book to get to Hiroshima was full and we had to get one in the daytime which (a) cut into our Kyoto time and (b) meant paynig for a night's accomodation in Hiroshima; the choice hostel we subsequently tried to book in Hiroshima was full; the geisha walking tour we had booked, and which we got thoroughly soaked trying to get to, never happened because, I think, the guide decided he didn't fancy it in the rain (didn't stop him from not answering his phone though, or indeed not leaving a message for us); our hunt for a consolatory coffee/cocoa and cake led us a merry dance through just about every cafe in kyoto without an espresso machine.
I was soaked through, tired, feeling thoroughly let down, powerless and generally self-piteous, and worried that this new world we had shot into was terrible and we were doomed. Ellen suggested that the universe was just having a laugh at us, especially as one of the traits of the fox spirits we visited (kitsune, see previous article) is one of extreme mischief. In my susperstitious unstable head this translated as a challenge - if I could find an espresso I would win, capture the kitsune's star ball, and put an end to all this mischief. Disasters would continue until I did get my cuppa so the hunt was on - I love the way my head justifies its stubbornness! Anyway, to cut a long story short as soon as I 'realised' what the game was I found an espresso shop straight away and had 2 for good measure. Prank over, all happiness and good luck resotred instantly. We has a wonderful Nepalese curry at the nearby 'Yak and Yeti', played a most enjoyable game of Munchkin and enjoyed a good night's sleep. The next morning we managed to book a Japanese room in a great place in Hiroshima, realising that this forced extra night will enable us to explore the town much better than we otherwise would have done.
After much chocolate we headed out on our bikes into the cool, breezy air. Heading north and west we arrived at the amazing Eikan-Do (Zenrin-Ji). We had spotted it a few days ago and was on our list of 'maybe if we have time' but an email from Ellen's sister recommending it moved it to the top of our list. It was really splendid and had such a peaceful atmosphere, and as soon as we walked in through the main gate we saw for the first time on our visit the first garden that actually looked like I have imagined Japanese gardens to look like: plent of water, water-lillies, graceful weeping maples and well-placed rocks, all fading seamlessly into the wooded mountainside behind. We jsut sat and sat, totally relaxed. The buildings beautiful, some going back to the 9th century, and they climbed the mountainside connected by amazing covered suspended walkways and steps, so that the buildings felt as though they were suspended in mid-air. There was also a raked gravel garden that as my first experience of one surprised me by being really interesting and meditative rather than boring and pretentious! All in all it was a place of breath-taking beauty, so thank you Nic for having such exquisite taste!
I had to really tear myself away but udon beckoned me from a nearby noodle bar, and very tasty they were too. We just had time to stroll down the very pretty nearby Path of Philosophy (Testsugaku-no-Michi) and up to a lovely secluded Jodo temple called Honen-In that was set back into the woodland, before we parted company for a bit. Well, I strolled down the path but Ellen cycled down the lane next to it - presumably the pCycle-lane Of Psychiatry. Very zen in an instant karma kind of way, I thought. Ellen had rearranged with the geisha tour for that afternoon, and I had decided to not go: it sounded really interesting but it cost the same as our unforseen night's accomodation in Hiroshima, and besides I really don't like bullshit so I'm hardly going to give a guy who stands us up in the rain and then lies about it 3000 yen. It sounds like Ellen had a fantastic time though and I'm sure there's an article in it!
I took my time at the temple and ambled back to the beginning of the Path of Philosophy to collect my bike, exploring a couple of small shrines on the way. Deciding that my shocking sense of direction really did need a work-out I decided to eschew the map and guide book and bike slowly in roughly the right direction, stopping at anything interesting. I'm so glad I did as this took me to the magnificent Nanzen-Ji zen temple complex: large sculpted grounds containng loads of well-preserved sub-temples and the very famous Leaping Tiger Garden. Most of the buildings were closed as it was past 5, but that was OK becuase I was lucky enough to have stumbled into not only one of the reputedly most pleasant temples in Kyoto but also one with wonderful free and always open grounds to stroll in.
Soon I found myself chasing toriis again, and came to an old aqueduct that I followed into the wooded hillside behind the temples, and soon found that my path had risen high enough so that I was looking down into the aquaduct, a great an unusal experience as I saw a well ordered channel of water calmly making its way through the landscape. Further up and the complex disappears - just woodland and a stream as the light starts to fade. Eventualy I came to a shrine and small shelter in a cleft in the hillside next to a stunning waterfall, maybe 30 or 40 metres tall. I subsequently found out from the guide that this shrine and waterfall area is known as Nanzen-ji Oku-no-in, and while overlooked or just not found by the vast majority of visitors it has traditionally served as a resting place for pilgims who pray under the waterfall. I felt incredibly lucky to be in this amazing spot that felt very private - I hadn't seen another person for about an hour - and was delighted that my kooky sense of direction had come up trumps.
Another blessing was that I didn't have the camera on me as Ellen took it on her tour. I think it is a wonderful piece of kit but am very aware how much it takes over; I go to beautiful places and find myself sizing the scene up for a shot - everthing gets scored in terms of whether it would make a good picture and I sometimes forget to look for the beauty that is not necessarily photogenic. Being without the infernal contraption for a while was most liberating as I was led more by the connection between my senses and the landscape in which I could wander regardless. The afternnon has become mine in a very private way with no pictures to share, and it now exists only at that one point in time and space; I really do love the camera but have realised how much respect it must be treated with if it is to not run the show.
Oh, and in case you were wondering - there was no teacake.