It was time to travel South West to the cultural capital of
Kyoto. We checked out of the Daiichi Hotel and headed onto the Yamanote line
down to Tokyo station. The stunning 9:30 Hikari Shinkansen was quietly waiting
for its passengers to board before it is shoots towards Kyoto at 300km/hr. We
had time to grab a few snacks, take some snaps and get comfy. The 3 hour
journey was pleasant and again Mum & Dad where genuinely impressed by a unique
‘Japanese’ experience. How can you not; world class land travel, delightedly
courteous staff, views of snow covered mountains and of course delicious
sandwiches. Despite the different social and economic contexts, Australia
really does seem 10 years behind sometimes. We arrived at Kyoto station and our
task was now to find the little Japanese house named Ojizoya we had rented for our stay. With a crumpled printed out map
with directions, and with the help of the taxi rank man we arranged two cabs to
successfully take us there. Maneuvering through a long and narrow residential
street, the taxis were waved in by our Kyoto contact M who was waiting for us
out the front of Ojizoya. The quaint house is best described as a long-standing
townhouse with retrofitted discreet modern comforts. It is tucked down a narrow
pathway off the street therefore it is not a pure Machiya style. Downstairs is the living areas comprising of
kitchen, toilet, bathroom, meals/sitting, shower, and an entry foyer with a small
desk. The meals and sitting room is sunken table with heating underneath.
Upstairs is the main bedroom and small space for a futon for the third guest
ie. me. Throughout the house the earthen wall finish, shoji screens, tatami,
exposed timber framing and antique Japanese furniture exuded a somewhat genuine
Japanese aesthetic. The steep staircase and small outdoor courtyard for clothes
washing enforced the idea to mum and dad that this was something far from
Australia.
Our first destination after settling into the house was
Shimogamo Shrine where the annual Kemari Hajime, a traditional ball game, was
being staged. After getting our bearings, we hopped into the train and headed
north, parallel to the Kamo-gawa (duck
river). The walk to the shrine was engaging, and like Asakusa in Tokyo it was
still heaving with people enjoying the New Year festivities. Food stalls lined
the path to the main gate and upon entering a large and dense crowd had already
gathered around the small playing field and finding a vantage point was
impossible. Luckily where we stood happened to be where the players entered the
arena. I could see a little of the game and it seemed to be hacky sackesque. After
few minutes bobbing up and down and
holding the camera above my head shooting optimistically we then ventured
through the rest of the temple complex, paused at the ceremonial bonfire and
walked back to the station; by this point “flurries!” had begun to fall much to
our amazement. Mum was giddy with excitement only to calm down once back in the
underground train. Back in the center of town we decided to just wander around
the bustling Kawaramachi dori shopping arcades during which we stopped for tea
and refreshments at the Lipton teahouse. Later that evening we took a stroll
down the majestic Pontocho restaurant and bar area and found a found a lovely
tempura restaurant overlooking the Kamo-gawa.
From my last time I was in Kyoto (April, 2010) I had quite the night involving two private
karaoke parlors, many drunk Tokyo businessmen, liters of Asahi, a crazed
magician and two Canadian female tourists…
In light of this, I was keen to hit the bar scene again and
L and I had decided to meet up after dinner. I naively organized to meet up at
Gion Shijo station, which happened to be a “business corner” for the ladies of
the night. Oh boy…consequently I got many offers and witnessed just how casual
the whole interaction is. I couldn’t help thinking that most of the men that
quickly took the ladies arm in arm where regrettably married, depressed or
lonely. Either way the “business” whatever it is seems to be openly accepted
and not hidden from public view. L arrived and we briskly cleared the scene.
Our first stop was a great blues bar which I went to last time in the Pontocho
area. L had a G&T, I a beer and later a whisky. We left and headed to
another close bar, which was honeycombe in colour and seemed to be built of
heavy masonry. L had a beer and I another whisky. Our last stop of the evening was
a tiny jazz bar at the top of a stairwell that was swelling with character;
Records, gig posters, whisky bottles labeled with the local regular’s name, and
all kinds of jazz and drinking paraphernalia lined the walls and ceiling. After a couple of beers, we bid farewell and
journeyed back on our newly adopted routes home.
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