The cherry blossoms are blooming

I just remembered that it was exactly a year ago today when my husband and I finally got to go to Japan. The trip was amazing and it sealed our fascination for everything Japanese. Japan was more beautiful than I imagined especially with those fluffy, pink clouds of cherry blossoms in parks, gardens, temples, street corners, riversides, and bridges.

A cherry blossom tree just outside a house along the Philosopher's Path in Kyoto

Many people stroll (and shoot) along the Philosopher's Path, a beautiful walkway lined with blooming cherry blossom trees during spring

Cherry blossom trees getting all lit up in the evening in a street in Gion

A weeping cherry tree in Maruyama Park

Cherry trees line both sides of the Sumida River in Tokyo

Yoyogi Park in Tokyo

Japanese and foreign tourists descend upon Ueno Park in Tokyo from late March to early April

Appreciating the blossoms’ delicate beauty and short life span, the Japanese take the time to celebrate its arrival with viewing parties (hanami). The flower also figures in Japanese poetry and literature, seen as a metaphor for life–it’s beautiful, it’s fleeting, it has to be celebrated, and it ends. Sometimes all too soon.

When you want some company (our last supper in Kyoto)

For our last dinner in Kyoto, P wanted to go back to this restaurant, which we saw the night before when we walked around Gion with Yashi and the other IchiEnSou guests. It was a restaurant serving a variation of okonomiyaki that had a humorous statue of a boy running with a bag of the restaurant’s specialty, while a dog chases him and tugs down his pants (see photo below).

An okonomiyaki is a Japanese pancake that roughly translates to “what you like” (okonomi) and “grilled” or “cooked”(yaki ). As such, it can contain a variety of seafood, meat, and different vegetables and cooked in a teppan or hot plate. In the Gion restaurant, the okonomiyaki it serves is called Issen Yoshoku (which is also the name of the restaurant)—yoshoku for ‘Western food’ (Western because the batter used is made of wheat flour) and sen because it used to cost about 1 US cent.

The eye-catching facade of Issen Yoshoku

The cooks hard at work. (See the mannequin on the left, it's a clue on what awaited us inside)

The cooks preparing the mounds of Issen Yoshoku face the street, which attracts many onlookers, most if not all of whom were tourists who had whipped out their cameras (just like us). The dish is more crepe than pancake and thinly sliced pork, tiny shrimps, a lot of chopped scallions, and egg are among the ingredients that get tossed in before it’s folded in half and served.

Intrigued, we went inside and were taken to a table where a female mannequin in a kimono was seated. Oh-kay. Looking around, most tables had kimono-clad female mannequins accompanying the diners. I had seen this type of restaurant (or it could have been this very restaurant) in a news segment on Japan years back. Seated mannequins on every table to keep diners company. (I researched about it later on in Kyotofoodie.com and found out it’s the humorous ploy of the owner to lure drunken men to the restaurant when they see the seeming abundance of attractive single women seated inside from the street.) Oh, Japan. How do you think of these things (and go about actually doing them)?

Issen Yoshoku's funny menu: Ta-daah! It only serves one dish! (Catch a glimpse of our lady companion at the top-left corner of the photo)

The crepe-like creation is served with lots of sweet okonomiyaki sauce and strips of nori

We ordered two beers and two Issen Yoshoku, one for me and P. (Our lady companion was not having anything. Cheap date.) I wasn’t too crazy about this okonomiyaki (just too many scallions for my taste), but my husband liked it and even finished my share. Still, it was a fun dining experience and if you’re in the Gion area, do go inside and buy your lady friend a drink.

Kyoto, Day 7: In its kitchen, alleys, and castle (and another temple)

Take me to a place once and I usually know how to get there again. I make a mental map in my head and I’m good. But apparently I cannot read an actual map. That morning, we had more than an hour before we were to meet our guide Atsuko from VisitKansai.com, who was going to accompany us around Nishiki Market, and I thought it was a good idea to look for the streets of Ishibei-koji, Ninen-zaka and Sannen-zaka. They were part of the Lonely Planet guide book’s Southern Higashiyama Walking Tour that we wanted to follow on our first afternoon in Kyoto, but couldn’t because it was so freaking cold—which was, by then, taking its toll on me. So even though I woke up with a headache, a stuffy nose, and a sore throat, I insisted to my husband that I was fine. I was determined to find those streets. Or at least one of them.

How can you not go inside?

After we went inside Yasaka Shrine, I tried to make sense of where we were in the map. We were not on a main road and there wasn’t a street sign I could understand. I thought maybe I was looking at the map in the wrong way. Minutes of standing in the cold wasn’t helping my map-reading skills, so we decided to simply walk down the street to the right of Yasaka Shrine, because it seemed like it was the right direction. We kept walking until we saw a quaint, little alley with a short covered walkway. It piqued our interest. We saw three elderly folks enter. It didn’t look like a private property so we followed them. We figured if they lived there they would have turned us away. But they ignored us. So we kept walking along that almost empty, narrow cobbled street lined with shrubbery over a long concrete wall.

Ishibei-koji

P and I didn’t know where in the map we were or where we were going, but it didn’t really matter at that point. Aside from the fact that we could easily retrace our steps, for the first time, we felt like we were exploring Kyoto on our own. Searching for a place and anticipating what we would actually find. Then we saw two girls dressed up as geishas turn to another alley. We followed them and there it was Ishibei-koji. Though there was no street sign, I knew it was the street Lonely Planet calls, “perhaps the most beautiful street in Kyoto,” because (1) it was indeed beautiful (though not sure of being ‘the most’) and (2) because I had been watching this video on Kyoto hundreds of times before flying to Japan and for a few seconds it shows Ishibei-koji—an immaculate cobbled alley lined with traditional Japanese inns and restaurants. Sometimes, even without a map, you end up where you’re supposed to be, anyway.

***

Four-hundred meter heaven: Nishiki Market

I was going to write a part of the trip for my editor in a food magazine so I wanted to explore Kyoto’s famous Nishiki Market with a guide/translator. We met our guide Atsuko at a train station along Shijo-dori before walking to the centuries-old marketplace dubbed as the Kitchen of Kyoto. Atsuko, who lives in Osaka is a licensed guide who teaches English. The tours are a way for her to practice her English and she was very patient answering our questions, such as: What were those pasty or powdery concoctions covering the vegetables and the fish? (Answer: nuka, which is rice bran, or miso) What were the tasty black beans called? (Answer: Kuromame. You can eat it as a snack or cook it with rice for flavoring) What did you call those gelatinous, salty-sweet preserves of seaweed, fish, or meat served as a side dish to many Japanese meals? (Answer: Tsukudani).

We explored the 400-meter long marketplace lined with around 140 stores. It was a food (and kitchen) paradise; I would be happy going there every single day. We tasted some kuromame and tsukudani. Checked out the knife shop dating back to 1560 that sold a variety of hand-crafted knives. Saw how bonito flakes looked like before they were, well, flaked. Found our mouths watering at the sight of mochi, onigiri, fish cakes, sashimi tuna on a stick, and the one I looked forward to the most after months of stalking Kyoto-based food blogs, the tofu doughnuts.

One of the shops I love since it sold those sweet-salty Japanese side dishes called tsukudani. Feel free to sample each one.

At the Aritsugu knife shop, where you can find all sorts of knives—for meat, fish (even for a particular fish), sushi rolls, noodles, vegetables, etc.

Nishiki has several shops selling Japanese sweets like mochi and daifuku

Pickled vegetables covered in nuka or rice bran

All sorts of seafood--from fresh to pickled to ready-to-eat

Throughout our Japan trip, P saw a number of small dolls left on the doorways and gates. This one was outside a shop in Nishiki. Anyone know what it's about? (Update: Blogger Tokyobling gave me this explanation: "I think it is meant to be a frog, and as we all know, frog in Japanese is “kaeru” or カエル, which happens to be the same as come back, return, 帰る. So a lot of Japanese stores, cities, temples, stations have some sort of frog symbol near their exit to welcome visitors back.)

Yolk and bean jam buns. I didn't enjoy this one so much.

Onigiri happiness!

Want tuna sashimi on the go? Have it on a stick!

The best Nishiki Market snack for me: Konnamonja’s tofu doughnuts

After ogling at so much food (even though we bought and snacked on some octopus on a stick, kuromame, bean jam buns and tofu doughnuts), by the time we had walked from one end of Nishiki Market (Teramachi) to the other (Takakura) we were hungry for lunch. Atsuko recommended her favorite sushi-ya in Kyoto—at the basement food hall of the Daimaru Department Store. (Now, a basement food hall or depachika is another food/consumerist phenomenon in Japan altogether. Check this article from Food & Wine.) We walked past shiny stalls of every Japanese food and western delicacies packaged and presented so elaborately, and found the corner sushi-ya Atsuko was talking about.

Kyoto, Day 6: “The Japan of your imagination” (plus, lots of tourists)

Kinkaku-ji

There it stood, stunning and gleaming on the edge of a serene mirror-like pond—an intricately-designed temple covered with gold-leaf. The Rukuon-ji Temple, or more popularly known as Kinkaku-ji or Golden Temple, was our first stop on our second day in Kyoto. A retirement villa built in the late 14th century, converted into a temple, and centuries later, reconstructed after it burned to the ground, it is one of the more famous cultural sites in a city dotted with 1,600 Buddhist temples and 400 Shintō shrines. So famous that guide books will tell you that the UNESCO World Heritage Site attracts hordes of tourists almost any day of the year. If you want some semblance of serenity while beholding the gilded Zen temple, be there early before the bus-loads of tour groups arrive, or before the temple closes. P and I, along with our two friends from Manila, were there a few minutes after it opened and, though we were amidst quite a number of fellow tourists, it thankfully hadn’t reached Tokyo-train-station-on-a-rush-hour proportions just yet.

One of the most ubiquitous contraptions in Japan

After viewing the temple, we followed the path leading through its vast gardens, climbed a few steps overlooking it, passed a traditional teahouse, and a small shrine called Fudo Hall. Nearby are a few shops selling souvenirs, sundaes, matcha tea, and Japanese snacks like dango balls. We didn’t stop to have any of those. We did stop by one of the many vending machines outside the temple for a drink. Keeping in stock every kind of drink—water, coffee, tea, cider, soda, beer (and sometimes even food)—vending machines are found in almost every street corner in Japan.

If you’re just going around Kyoto, take note that the city buses are green

From the northwestern part of Kyoto, where Kinkaku-ji is, we had to go east to Northern Higashiyama area where we planned to spend the rest of the day—walking the Philosopher’s Path from Ginkaku-ji to Nanzen-ji. We walked to the Kinkakuji-michi bus stop to catch either bus no. 102 or 204, which both stop at Ginkakuji-michi. The way the bus network of Kyoto is mapped out, it appears as efficient and intricate as the railway system of Tokyo, with most of the former imperial capital’s attractions easily accessed by taking a bus. While the city has a helpful railway system, which you can opt to take to avoid downtown traffic or cover longer distances, it is not as elaborate as Tokyo’s. Also, in some train stations you might have to walk quite a distance, take a bus or a taxi to get to where you want to go.

A bowl of ebi tempura for lunch

Once we reached Ginkakuji-michi, we stopped by a restaurant to refuel with tempura-soba and tempura-don. Outside, the cherry blossoms beckoned. Tetsugaku-no-michi or the Path of Philosophy is a wonderful vision in spring with the cherry trees in bloom lining the pedestrian path that follows a canal. It was supposedly where Japanese philosopher Nishida Kitaro practiced meditation while he walked from his daily commute to Kyoto University and it’s easy to see how it could be a perfect place for contemplation. But following his footsteps nowadays may not be that easy, especially in spring, when you have to stroll the path with many other cherry blossom-seeking tourists. Being part of that group, I didn’t really mind.

Setting of many a scenic stroll, especially during sakura season

When we came upon a fork in the road, we kept to the left before continuing our Path of Philosophy stroll. The road, crowded with more tourists and lined with souvenir stores and food stalls, leads up to Ginkaku-ji.

One of the many stalls on the way to Ginkaku-ji selling Japanese sweets like yatsuhashi

Known as the Silver Pavilion, the Zen temple is another popular sight in Kyoto. It was built as a retirement villa and was meant to be covered in silver, which was never completed. It isn’t exactly a bad thing as the two-storey temple of white and brown is a soothing sight, especially next to the beautifully raked white sand. The only thing to spoil the very Zen-like scenery were us tourists huddled together, taking snapshots and getting in each other’s shots. The Lonely Planet guidebook describes Kyoto as a place “where you will find the Japan of your imagination.” Just from seeing the two popular temples and the Gion area the night before, the description definitely rings true. Just be sure to include crowds of tourists in your imagined Japan.

Ginkaku-ji, another must-see World Heritage Site in Kyoto

Tokyo to Kyoto, Day 5: In slumber and snow (and a bullet train in between)

Shibuya Crossing on a quiet and rainy Monday morning

Our shinkansen ride to Kyoto was scheduled a few minutes past noon, but we left C’s apartment early. From Sangen-jaya, we had to go to the Shibuya train station to take the Yamanote line to Shinagawa station, where we would take the shinkansen. We wanted to have more than enough time to find Shinagawa and we also thought it would be a good idea to kill some time exploring Shibuya. After stashing our luggage in one of the lockers in the station by eight am, we headed out. (There are only a few station lockers for big pieces of luggage so if you want to grab a hold of one, be there early.)

Outside the Hachiko Exit of Shibuya Station

There was the statue of Hachiko outside the Shibuya station exit named after the loyal Akita dog, all by its lonesome, minus the constant hordes of people who have made it a popular meeting spot. The Shibuya Crossing on that cold, rainy Monday morning seemed reluctant to come to life without the multitude of pedestrians. Its blinking video screens and neon lights still in slumber. It was like our first glimpse of Tokyo from the airport. As we walked the streets of Shibuya, the entire district, which is crammed with many department stores and little boutiques, seemed to be in no hurry to wake up. There was not much activity save for a camera crew shooting a group of dancing girls for what looked like a commercial. When we spotted an open gyudon restaurant an hour later, we ducked into it for some breakfast.

One of the reliable eateries for thrifty travelers in Japan are the gyudon-ya, which serves the popular donburi dish of gyudon (rice topped with beef and onion), along with some pork variations (butadon and tondon) and salmon for around ¥500. You either pay for it at the counter or via vending machine by the restaurant’s entrance. The vending machines often don’t have an English menu so you have to rely on the photos (though it’s sometimes hard to tell the beef and pork bowls apart). The gyudon typically comes with the Japanese set meal staples of miso soup, pickled vegetables, and hot tea.

In our entire trip to Japan, the gyudon has always been a dependable and satisfying meal, so we were surprised when less than three hours later, we were seated in one of the restaurants inside Shinagawa station having another meal. We still had an hour before our train arrived so we decided to explore the station. It was filled with stalls selling bento boxes, an udon place filled with salarymen hunched over their bowls of noodles, a restaurant serving “homemade curry” as it claimed on its doorway, and a bunch of other eateries that made us crave to have an early lunch.

Hello, shinkansen!

At 12:10 pm, the shinkansen Hikari line we were to board for Kyoto pulled up in front of the platform in all its sleek, steel gorgeousness…as much as a train can be gorgeous. (Or, judging from my past entries, I could be biased for everything Japanese.) Via the shinkansen, the 460-plus kilometer distance between two cities is covered in a little over two hours. (Taking the bus would have taken it around eight hours.) I felt like I was going on vacation from a vacation—from the rapid pace of Tokyo that can leave anyone breathless (I’m sure my itinerary didn’t help) to a slower and historically-rich Japan of surreal golden temples, well-preserved castles, and Zen gardens. I was going to get a taste of traditional Japan and my mouth was watering.