Kinkaku-ji, Ginkaku-ji, and the Philosopher's Walk

We were both awake very early one morning during our trip to Kyoto, so Mom and I decided to get an early start by taking a walk at a popular birdwatching park in the northern part of the city.

We had a special cultural experience planned for the afternoon, so we didn't really have any set plans for the day. Since we had woken up so early, we had more time than expected, so we decided to go ahead and try to fit visits to two of Kyoto's biggest treasures into the next several hours.

We arrived at Kinkaku-ji, the Golden Pavilion, about half an hour before it opened to visitors. After a can of coffee, the gates were opened, and we bought our tickets and entered the grounds.

I've visited the Golden Pavilion twice before, and it's always been packed. It's one of those tourist sites that is very much worth visiting with the understanding that you will be dealing with the crowds. However, on this morning at 9:00 am, there were very few people there, and it really felt like we had the World Heritage Site temple to ourselves.

The history of Kinkaku-ji dates back to the late 14th century when the villa which originally stood on the site was purchased by Ashikaga Yoshimitsu, the third shogun of the Ashikaga Shogunate. He transformed the property into a lavish retirement estate which he named "Rokuon-ji", or the "Deer Garden Temple".

According to the shogun's will, after his death in 1408 the villa was donated to the Rinzai sect of Buddhism and was converted into a Zen Buddhist temple.

The most iconic structure at the temple is the Golden Pavilion itself. The shogun's ornate villa was converted into a reliquary which now contains important Buddhist artifacts. A seemingly elaborate structure for the typically austere Zen sect of Buddhism, the pavilion can be seen as representative of the art of the Muromachi period, which relied on visual excesses. The effect is striking; the glittering gold of the pavilion reflects the sunlight and is itself reflected in the mirrorlike pond, creating a beautiful scene.

The grounds of Kinkaku-ji are laid out in such a way that as you walk along the main path, your views of the pavilion are undisturbed, meaning that no matter how crowded the temple grounds are (and they can get extremely packed), it always looks like you have the whole place to yourself. On this day, it actually felt like that!

After we had walked through the verdant Japanese gardens of the temple, we finished up at the onsite teahouse, where we had a cup of matcha and a tiny traditional Japanese sugar cake.

One of the iconic things which you must do when visiting Kinkaku-ji is to have ice cream with gold flakes, which of course we did!

We left the Golden Pavilion and hailed a cab. On our way to the next destination, we had the chance to speak with our driver.

"My English teacher was Darth Vader", he told us, explaining how he had learned the language mostly through watching movies.

He asked us where we were from, and when we said we had come from the US, he began folding a paper crane on a square piece of American flag origami paper, which he worked on every time we were stopped at a traffic light. When we had arrived at our destination, he handed it to us and wished us happy and safe travels during our time in Japan.

There's been a bit of anti-foreigner sentiment rising lately in Japan. It's not necessarily aimed at tourists, but I was glad not to run into any "Japan First" protests when we were traveling. Everyone was super kind and friendly to us, and it seemed that those who don't ascribe to those sentiments went out of their way to make sure we knew that we were welcome in their country. Despite the news, we never encountered anything that could be seen as anything less than a warm welcome.

A short while later, we pulled up in front of Ginkaku-ji on the other side of town. The similarly named temple translates to "Silver Pavilion". Although less flashy, iconic, and popular than its golden counterpart, I actually prefer Ginkaku-ji.

Officially named Jishō-ji, or the "Temple of Shining Mercy", the property was designed in 1460 by Ashikaga Yoshimasa, the eighth shogun of the Ashikaga Shogunate and the grandson of Ashikaga Yoshimitsu who built the Golden Pavilion, as a private estate.

The two-story pavilion which stands on the edge of a pond surrounded by one of the quintessential Japanese Zen gardens, was built as a retirement retreat for the shogun, a place of rest and solitude from the stress of ruling.

Seeking to emulate his grandfather, Yoshisama originally planned to cover the exterior of the pavilion in silver foil, hence its name. Construction was halted, however, due to the outbreak of the Ōnin War, a civil war which lasted from 1467 to 1477. Yoshisama became a monk from 1485 until his death in 1490 but never finished building his Silver Pavilion.

In the Japanese spirit of "wabi-sabi", or the beauty in imperfection and acceptance of incompleteness, the design was never realized, leaving the Silver Pavilion's bare wooden walls without a trace of silver to this day. Nevertheless, the original name remains, now somehow even more poetic due to the structure's unfinished nature.

Today, the pavilion is a Kannon-den, or "Guanyin Hall" dedicated to the Buddhist goddess of Mercy.

Besides the pavilion itself, what makes the temple so famous is its beautiful grounds, which contain one of the world's most iconic Zen sand gardens.

The "dry garden" of sand is raked into carefully formed rings with a semi-conical pile built perfectly at its center meant to represent the sacred Mt. Fuji.

The purpose of a Zen garden is to encourage mindfulness and contemplation. The act of raking the sand or gravel in and of itself can be a mindful act of "walking meditation", as is the act of looking out and contemplating the simple and minimalistic designs which are, despite their simplicity, very carefully planned and laid out.

A hallmark of a Zen garden is its transience. A simple gust of wind or heavy rain, not to mention a footstep, could disturb the pattern and require the garden to be recreated from scratch.

We walked along the path through the temple's gardens. It's not hard to see why the shogun retreated here during the civil war, according to some accounts spending his time contemplating the calm and beauty of the gardens while the war raged and Kyoto burned to the ground.

The garden path leads up into the hills looking down over the temple grounds and across Kyoto itself. It's a really beautiful scene, and one of my favorite views of the old city.

It was nearly lunchtime as we were leaving the Silver Pavilion, so Mom and I decided to stop in at a small local restaurant to eat. She had a bowl of noodles topped with tempura, and I ordered katsudon, or a fried pork cutlet served with egg over a bowl of rice.

We sat on cushions at the low traditional table to eat, and our server offered to take our picture.

Feeling full and satisfied, we left the restaurant and took a walk along the famous Tetsugaku-no-michi, the "Philosopher's Walk".

The paved path, most famous during the springtime when it is covered in pink cherry blossoms, first opened in 1890 and follows the course of a shallow irrigation channel bringing water from the Lake Biwa Canal.

The beautiful and scenic walkway is named such because two of Kyoto's most famed and esteemed philosophy professors are said to have walked it daily.

Today, the walkway is lined with small cafes, local craft boutiques, and souvenir shops. We stopped in at a handful of the local art galleries and studios which sold handicrafts and traditional art.

Many of the shops along the walk maintain a quiet, refined atmosphere that matches the tranquil, tree-lined canal and the historic temples along the route.