Take Me Home

A steamy bamboo grove as my vacation ends.

Ready for the grande finale?

My high speed Shinkansen train from Tokyo got me three hundred miles to Kyoto in two hours. My walk from the train station to my Kyoto hostel was nothing special. The city seemed dull. But then I got to my hostel smack in middle of Kyoto on Shijo Street and saw the marvelous former capital of Japan. Let me tell you about my hostel: Centurion Cabin & Spa was my favorite place to stay on my whole trip. As the name would indicate, it's a spa, and you get all the spa amenities for $25 a night in the perfect location. It felt like magic to find such a cheap hostel right in the middle of Kyoto. I needed this after traveling for two months. If you're ever in Kyoto, I highly recommend that you stay here. Downside? Well some people might think sleeping in a capsule would be a downside, but I loved the comfort and seclusion. It's a traditional Japanese hostel in that sense. Like getting a hug from walls all night long. 

Check out these capsules.

Facing backwards in my capsule with a TV behind me.

And then there's the sento. I discovered at night when I needed to shower that the only showers in the facility is a public bathhouse on the bottom floor. But this is a spa's sento. On top of showers, you get treats like hot tubs and ice baths. Clothes and towels are strictly forbidden in the sento. Surely a welcoming, friendly experience.

Kyoto City Hall

Downtown Kyoto is a decent size with elaborately decorated streets throughout. The Gion Festival is one of Japan's biggest and occurs in Kyoto throughout the entire month of July; the festival may have been partly responsible for all the decorations I saw, but I got the feeling most of the decorations were up year round. I happened to be in Kyoto for traditionally the second most important day of the festival, July 24. A smaller (as compared to the first most important day of the festival) Yamaboko Junko parade marches through the streets toward the Yasaka Shrine in the Gion District at the end of Shijo Street. I was out exploring at the time, not completely understanding until later what the festival had going on, but I caught the aftermath at the Yasaka Shrine.

Nishiki Market

Instead of sticking around for a parade, I ventured through Nishiki Market and tried to catch as many shrines as I could before the day was over. Nishiki was a very entertaining area to walk and shop; it was probably my favorite shopping district on my whole trip, not that I ever did any shopping. The legendary Nishikikoji Dori is a thin alleyway which opens up into a bright and vibrant outdoor mall.

Reminds me of scenes from The Wolverine

As I said in my last post, Japanese shrines on the whole lost novelty quickly, as opposed to European churches which never did. I don't really feel like it's due to my lack of experience with eastern religions or architecture, but who knows. Still I wanted to visit the shrines to give them a chance and say that I've been there. Certain shrines could occasionally give me pause.

Yasaka Shrine

The 80-ft tall Ryozen Kannon concrete statue is deceptively large, as it is sitting off in the distance behind closed gates.

Outside of the Yasaka Shrine, crowded after the Yamaboko Junko

Figuring out that the shrines would all be closed at this point in the night, I trotted back home through the aftermath of the festival. The humidity exhausted me quickly. I needed a full night of rest to be energized for my final complete day abroad. I took my shower and dozed off in my cubby.

A morning look at Kyoto from Arashiyama to the west

The smell of pork sausages and eggs for breakfast at the spa got my day rolling early enough to be at the opening of the Iwatayama Monkey Park on Mount Arashi (Arashiyama). I took a subway out to the park on the western edge of the city up against the mountains just so I could be the first non-employee up the mountain. Felt good to be up there before it got crowded. The park is a day-home to many Japanese macaques which habitually venture in from the mountain forests for easy food. This species of macaque is the only primate native to Japan and is the northernmost primate in the whole world, also known as snow monkeys. I had fun lingering among the monkeys, watching them play, groom, poop, and be fed.

You are allowed to feed them only through this cage.

This is the newest-born monkey that the park employees know about. Just a couple weeks old.

I saw one monkey jump in for a bath with the fish.

A contemplative monkey

Pictured in front of the forest in which most of them live.

Not as much as baboons', but these butts are pretty red.

When I had finally had enough monkeyin' around, I descended the mountain and walked along the Katsura River into the Kameyama-koen Park. I exited the park through the small but glorious bamboo grove where young men in conical hats still pull traditional rickshaws.

The monstrous Ninna-ji pagoda

The proceedings are not nearly as meaningful as the day before, but for today the Gion Festival spruces up the Kitano Tenman-gu Shrine and arranges a little market there.

Festival vendors set up outside of Kitano Tenman-gu

This trained macaque put on a show for me.

Kitano Tenman-gu Shrine

Shirt drenched in sweat by noon. Time winding down.

I kept moving east on foot. Up next was the Kyoto Imperial Palace. I wasn't sure how close I would be permitted to get, given that I couldn't go anywhere near to the palace in Tokyo.

Entrance to the Kyoto Imperial Palace grounds

There is a stark lack of parks in Japan. Any would-be grassy areas get filled in by shrines. The only significant park I found in all of Japan surrounds the Kyoto Imperial Palace. I didn't stop to rest in it like I had done a couple times in European parks, but I like knowing it exists. I found that free tours were available for the Sento Imperial Palace, which sits on the same park grounds. There's limited availability, as they require security to keep tight tabs on all of the entrants to the palace, but I was able to snag one of the last available slots for the last tour of the day. Great timing!

Wasn't prime season nor day for touring the Sento Palace grounds, but still had many pretty viewpoints.

Yatsuhashi Bridge across the south pond

Suhama Shore: fable says that anybody who brought a stone to complete the shoreline was gifted a half gallon of rice.

If you are in Japan in the spring, you'll see their famous cherry blossoms in full bloom.

The palace tour with mandatory guidance took up a fair chunk of time, but I felt it was worth it for something unique. The alternative was seeing... more shrines.

Fushimi Inari Taisha

With the day winding to a close, I scrambled to see as much as I could. Lots of shrines were already barred off. One shrine though never closes. The Fushimi Inari Taisha is famous for being at the foot of the sacred Mount Inari (Inariyama) and for its unending string of gates. Literally, the orange gates do not end, taking you all the way up one side of the mountain and then down the other side. Going up takes an average person two hours to walk all the steps. I have no idea of the expense it took to construct all of this, on a mountain no less. I estimated (to surprising accuracy I found out) that there are 10,000 gates.

Ready to go under 10,000 of these? Hurry before delirium sets in.

This mountain is normally well-traveled, but given bad weather and the impending sunset, there weren't that many visitors walking up the mountain by the time I got there. I was in this alone. I saw a group of people drop out of the hike part way up, afraid of the sun leaving them. With nobody around once I got to the top, I felt like Lara Croft invading cursed shrines. 

One last little hike to fittingly conclude my vacation. Up we go!

A lesser known bamboo forest on Inariyama

A look down off the mountain.

The foxes visible here are a sacred symbol all over the mountain at "sub-shrines".

The shrine at the peak. Incredible what they assembled at the top of a mountain.

Bring plenty of water for any hike in Japan. Sweat drains out of you. Bring spare clothes for that matter, too. My shirt and shorts were equally drenched with sweat as if they had been doused in an ocean. For better and for worse, I had light rain showers for most of my hike. Better, because it kept me cool. Worse, because the pitter-patter drives you nuts. Combine the rain with not having enough water, the incessant eardrum-piercing chirp of the cicadas, fear of aggressive wild hogs, and the insanity-inducing repetition of bright orange gates, this hike is not for the faint of heart. Listen to my insane ramblings in my video. I love that I captured me at my finest hour.

I found a hole-in-the-wall restaurant at the bottom of the mountain which was a one-man operation cooking out of his kitchen. I was the only patron there for the majority of my meal. I got to listen to Japanese baseball over the radio with him. Among other things, I ordered chicken hearts because I felt like I deserved some more life force after the ordeal I went through on Inariyama. My imagination wanted to bite into a live chicken and suck its blood; that didn't happen. They tasted like... chicken... hearts.

Heated sake, edamame, a rice dish, and spicy skewered chicken hearts.

I had planned to return home on foot but I was much too tired to do anything else with my poor little feetsies, so I found a subway back to my spa. As quickly as I could, I grabbed a change of clothes out of my capsule with the aim to take full advantage of the sento. I stripped down, took a quick rinse in the shower, and then submerged myself into a hot bath until I got pruny. From the 40.5℃ bath, I plunged into the ice bath at 16℃ for one minute, just for the shock. Then I took an extended shower, leaning my body against the walls of the shower for most of it. I witness my heart whipping back and forth off the walls of my rib cage. I'm dehydrated from the mountain and the hot bath. I'm in shock from the hot-cold-hot temperature changes. My heart itself feels chilled. Those chicken hearts gave me magical powers. The shower is euphoric. I stumble out of the sento into the changing room and grip the sink counter, focusing on not fainting. Still nude, I laugh like a nutcase at the success of my trip. I'm sure people are staring. I marvel at my capabilities and the beating I've put my body through over five months. I feel no despair that my trip is over. I felt too much else to think about the downside of a twelve hour flight to Minneapolis in a middle seat the next day. This was the conclusion to the trip of my life.

I've never been so alone,

and I've never been so alive. 

I'm ready to go home.