After a civil evening the night before that concluded in the
early hours of the morning, I awoke to journey to Shugaku-in Imperial Villa
located in the Eastern Suburbs of Kyoto. I had my 9am tour booked and
permission papers in hand, but a rare blunder connecting trains put me well
behind schedule. So much so that by the time I had stepped off the local two
carriage diesel locomotive close to the villa, I conceded to joining the 10 am
tour which wasn’t a problem. Phew. (I can just hear mum now “you never leave
yourself enough time…”)
The Shugaku-in is a series of detached outbuildings of
mainly teahouses, unlike Katsura, it is not focused around a large villa
structure. Conversely, the 133 acre grounds are divided into separate gardens: Lower Garden, Middle Garden and Upper Garden.
These gardens are individually isolated by agricultural land incorporated into
the overall property. The pathways between the gardens slice through the
agricultural land where workers still to this day plough away to grow rice and
various vegetables. The evident self-sufficiency of Shugaku-in spoke the bygone
attitude and self-supporting lifestyle of all Japanese life up until the late
18th century.
The journey over the
whole site is long and vast, coincided by the distant views over East Kyoto and
beyond. I was surprised by the large
group of visitors, and I pondered their motive for visiting. Some where city
slickers with $10,000 Leica rangefinders and others were adorable elderly folk aghast
by the gardens beauty. I was as stimulated observing people’s interest as I was
by the Villa itself.
The Villa was built by Emperor Go-Mizunoo, beginning in 1655,
for his later years of retirement (he retired in the Sento Imperial Palace
before relocating here); he wandered with gentle purpose through and amid his gardens,
gazing, painting, reading, writing, eating and sleeping day in and day out. A
lifestyle in which unfortunately seems so distant to many.
After the leisurely tour was over, I made my way back to the
station on via the banks of the canal that winds itself through the quiet neighborhood.
The densely packed houses were decorated with various evidence of domestic
life. As I walked past a hoarders shop, I stopped to inspect a few things a
little closer and the stocky woman came out to rearrange her collection. She
greeted with me a big smile and a “Ohayou gozaimasu” (good morning) full of
gusto. It was an enthusiastic acknowledgement of my existence and a portrayal
of the warm soul she embodies.
I walked further along the canal turning left onto the main
road and was drawn into a decrepit arcade in which I didn’t notice earlier. I
was arrested by a trash and treasure shop (my favourite kind) in which had a
box of old LP’s sitting out the front. Oh boy. Long story short I walked out
with 3 kilos of records ranging from classic musical numbers to live shamisen
recordings. I was a happy man, as was the shop keeper. Before boarding on the
train I grabbed some bread from the bakery and sat down to have a coffee and
accompanying sweet at an iconic Japanese coffee house; elderly owners, low
timber joinery showing years of wear, a potent existence of cigarette
smoke and an almost tangible sense of reflective thought weeping from the
scattered customers with their heads down in loneliness. I made a concerted
effort to influence my state of glee upon the kind lady owner who responded with a
refreshing smile and enthusiastic “arigatou gozaimasu” as I appreciated the
deliciousness of their creations.
My next point of call was the Sento Imperial Palace which is
located within the grounds of the Kyoto Imperial Palace
I was enjoying my baguette while crossing a bridge on the
way to the Villa, my head was down and then out of nowhere an enormous Falcon
swooped down, blinding my field of vision with its wing span and attempted to
steal my lunch. I slurred out a few choice four letter words and the locals
around screamed in fear, ducked and ran. I was lucky to keep my thumb because
those feet of theirs are capable of killing smaller birds as I witnessed at a
Falconry exhibition. So after counting my blessings, I subsequently lamented the fact
that I couldn’t finish my roll which was now decorating the footpath
awaiting the falcon’s victorious swoop. Well played good sir. Nonetheless, after strolling through the
Imperial palace bushes and murdering a chocolate pastry as quick as possible, I
comfortably made my 1pm appointment.
Sento Imperial Palace is a 22 acre garden which was formally
the grounds for retired emperors (Daijo, Go-Mizunoo). Through the main gate
exists an expansive forecourt to the main entrance of the triple gabled
carriage house. At this point you are still outside the main compound and you then stroll to the right through a small bamboo grove and through an opening in
an impossibly thick white lime rendered wall. You are met with the charming
Yushin-tei thatched roof teahouse and the gardens primary feature of two large
connecting ponds. The pond’s allure is delivered by its picturesque islands and
assortment of bridges, most notably, a stone bridge with wisteria trellis
(built 1895). At the southern end of the pond is Seika-tei: an understated
shingle-roofed teahouse rendered in a vermillion colored clay. The Approach to
Seika-tei is via the expansive “ocean shore” of rounded stones given to the
Emperor as a gift. It was said the generosity of the benefactor was
reciprocated with a sack of rice for each stone.
The guided tour concluded with the charismatic leader ending
with a song, exhibiting his rather honey laden set of pipes. By this time I was
quite “Imperial templed” out so to speak.
Dejan had decided he had enough and headed back to Tokyo
that morning, so it was just Bojan and I to hang out for the evening. We
decided to head back to Maruyama park to engage in some hanami season eating
and drinking activities. After a romantic stroll stuffing our faces with
various meats from the food stalls and kicking back in the alfresco dining
area, we decided we would capitalise on Bojan’s established presence at the
Gael Irish pub. It was a joyfully eventful evening involving (in order) good
conversation, pretzels, beer, Pastis’, Irish purebreds, tackling, broken teeth,
taxis, confusion, walking, witnessing, more beers, and a long stroll home.
I was looking forward to seeing my little sister the next
morning.
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