Koryuji and Sanjusangendo

So on one of these days--it may have been day 4, or maybe not, I can't really remember now--I went to Koryuji. Koryuji is not really on the typical temple-tourist-trap-route for Kyoto. Although it is one of the oldest temples in Kyoto, it is not particularly shiny like Kinkakuji, it doesn't have beautiful gardens like Ginkakuji, and it doesn't have a famous rock garden like Ryoanji. It is also on the outskirts of Kyoto, in Arashiyama, the eastern mountains. When the bus dropped me off nearby, I thought I was in the wrong place at first. It looked like the suburbs, if the suburbs were in an old-fashioned Japanese town. I persevered, though, and was rewarded.

The grounds of Koryuji do not look like much, although there are a number of old buildings and such (see below). They were quiet though--no school children, no tour busses, just me and a few old Japanese people.

However, I was not going to Koryuji to see the grounds. Koryuji is home to a number of extremely important pieces of Buddhist art, including one of my absolute favorites (also very famous)--the Miroku Bosatsu. Miroku refers to the position it is in, a distinctive kind of thinking pose (that's what it looks like to a westerner, anyways), with the hands near the face. It is a friendly figure, dating to the 7th century, and it has an archaic smile. It is polished and shiny from the centuries, and is very beautiful. Seeing it in real life was pretty awesome. The museum at Koryuji has a lot of other great works of art as well, and is very serene and pleasant. There was almost no one there, again, and the elderly Japanese man who was taking the tickets seemed surprised to see me. Definitely worth a visit, at least for me.

At some other point, possibly during this day, and possibly not, I decided to go to Sanjusangendo. I took the bus, and found it quite quickly. You couldn't miss the enormous groups of school children. But that was okay. Sanjusangendo was another of those sites I'd learned about in Japanese art history, and always wanted to visit.

Sanjusangendo is essentially just this building in the middle of a courtyard, surrounded by a somewhat later wall. It is remarkable primarily because it does not look like a normal Japanese temple at all. Sanjusangendo means, basically, 33 bay hall, and this is what it is. Because of this, it is extremely long. In the old days, people used to do an archery contest here, shooting arrows down the long length of the hall. It is also very old, and quite impressive, in a strange way.

You can see the bays... I didn't actually count them, but I am confident there are thirty-three.

This is the back view. There were surprisingly few people wandering outside--it was nice. This is because all the people are inside. This temple is famous for holding 1001 images of the Kannon. They are lined up inside, identical statue after identical statue, vast rows of them all along this long, long hall. The images are life-size, and covered in gold. It is a profoundly impressive site, but unfortunately I cannot show it to you as you are not meant to take pictures inside. This did not prevent one deeply obnoxious German man from doing so, however. Everyone glared at him, but he didn't notice. They never do, I suppose. There are also two gorgeous images of Fujin and Raijin in the hall... very cool.

Ryoanji

As I mentioned previously, it was on day 3 that I moved to a new place. Well, when I woke up on day 4 I decided I wanted to check my email briefly before I left for a shiny new day of sightseeing. Much to my sorrow, the computer was broken--and they only had one. I was quite bitter, as I had been looking forward to free internet. There were no internet cafes around, as far I could tell, although the ryokan owner told me that there was one in a nearby barber shop. I was fairly dubious about this, and decided to find one on my own. I eventually ended up going to this nice little restaurant recommended by Lonely Planet. Although they charged exhorbitant prices for my sandwich and hot chocolate, that included 2 hours of internet access, and I was pretty much in heaven. So it all worked out.

By the way, if you ever decide to go to Kyoto, I highly recommend buying an all-day bus pass, especially if you are a crazed temple-seeing machine like me. They cost 500 yen, and are good for all buses within the city limits--which will take you to most sites. Considering that a basic ticket costs about $2 each (if I remember correctly) it doesn't take many bus rides to make it really pay for itself. Plus it's a lot more convenient than fumbling around with change. I think that I probably took about 8 different bus rides one day--it doesn't help that I'd sometimes get lost. Also it was convenient for going to internet cafes, for example!

I believe I actually went to Ryoanji before Kinkakuji. I remember I wanted to go as early in the morning as possible, because I'd heard that Ryoanji got very crowded very fast. It kind of worked. When I first arrived, it was fairly quiet, but by the time I made it to famous rock garden it had become quite busy--although I'm sure it was nowhere near as bad as it could have been! Ryoanji had some lovely gardens (the normal kind), and a beautiful lake. I enjoyed taking some pictures of that.

As you can see, the leaves were just starting to turn red. I really like the ladder looking thing which is propping up that tree--so beautiful! It's such an elegant way to do things; I really approve.

The lake had a lot of lily pads as well. I imagine it must be beautiful when they're in bloom. As you can see, the weather wasn't quite so perfect yet, but it was still very nice.

So this is the famous rock garden of Ryoanji. This was one of the places I was definitely excited to see, because I'd learned all about in various art history classes, of course. Basically the story with this is that these 15 rocks, placed in a carefully raked sea of sand, are meant to provoke thought, general contemplation, and, presumably, enlightenment. Apparently you can never see all 15 at once--until you're enlightened. I have no idea if this is the case. As you can see, there are only a few boulders visible in this shot.

I was not the only one who was fond of Ryoanji, as you can see. It was nice, though, despite all the other tourists, that you could sit next to the rock garden and just contemplate it. I imagine that during the height of tourist season it must be pretty horrific, though.

Ginkakuji

On my fourth day, safely ensconced in my nice new ryokan, I decided to go to Kinkakuji. It was comparatively quite close to my ryokan, and extremely famous.

Now, there are two things you need to know about Kinkakuji. First, that it is a big old pavillion covered in gold (hence the name--kin means gold, just like gin means silver), and secondly, that it is the biggest tourist trap in Japan. The original Kinkakuji was burnt down in the 1950s by a deranged Buddhist monk, apparently, and so they naturally rebuilt this precious cultural heritage... with even more gold added on.

Kinkakuji is undeniably a gorgeous, picturesque site, but that's about all it is. You go there, you take about a million pictures (from a distance, since you can't actually go up to it or anything--maybe they're afraid another monk is going to come along), together with every single school child in Japan, and you go on a brief walk through some fairly decent gardens, and you come out on the other side. It's like an assembly line! Still, it's so famous, it's pretty much a requirement for going to Kyoto. And it is remarkably beautiful, especially on the perfect sunny day that I went.

I suspect roughly 1 bajillion other people have taken this exact picture. Still, the reflection is pretty amazing there.

A broader shot...

I like this one, just showing the reflection. It's absolutely blindingly bright, isn't it?

This is in the gardens somewhere--I believe you're supposed to toss a 1 yen coin into the bowl, and if you get it no doubt you get a wish or something. I'm not sure of the exact details. But that's what all the silvery things are--1 yens. In Japan, they are made out of aluminum and really strangely light, like toy money. A brisk wind can blow one away.