February 20th, 2023

On our first morn­ing in Kyō­to, we took a bus to the Kiy­omizu-dera tem­ple. The Otowasan Kiy­omizud­era (音羽山清水寺) in the Higashiya­ma dis­trict is one of the city’s most famous sights. It was des­ig­nat­ed a UNESCO World Her­itage Site His­toric Kyō­to (Kyō­to, Uji and Ōtsu) in 1994 along with oth­er sites. The Kiy­omizu-dera is the six­teenth tem­ple of the Saigoku Pil­grim­age Route (西国三十三箇所, Saigoku sanjūsankasho).

The his­to­ry of the tem­ple dates back to 798. How­ev­er, the cur­rent build­ings were erect­ed in 1633. It got its name from the water­fall inside the tem­ple com­plex that comes down from the near­by hills - kiy­oi mizu (清い水) lit­er­al­ly means “pure water”. On the main access road to the tem­ple, many sou­venir stores line up. On the street you can see many peo­ple dressed in tra­di­tion­al kimonos, most­ly young women.

The main hall of Kiy­omizu-dera is known for its wide ter­race, built togeth­er with the main hall on a frame­work of wood­en beams on a steep hill­side. Its ter­race offers an impres­sive view of the city. The tem­ple has bought up the sur­round­ing land, pre­vent­ing the con­struc­tion of high-rise buildings.

Triv­ia: The Japan­ese phrase “jump­ing down the ter­race of Kiy­omizu” (清水の舞台から飛び降りる kiy­omizu no butai kara tobioriru) means “to make up one’s mind”. This is rem­i­nis­cent of a tra­di­tion from the Edo peri­od, accord­ing to which a per­son who dared to jump down from the ter­race would have all his wish­es grant­ed. This seems believ­able because the lush veg­e­ta­tion below the ter­race cush­ions the impact. 234 jumps were doc­u­ment­ed in the Edo peri­od and of those, 85.4% of the jumpers sur­vived the jump (nowa­days, how­ev­er, it is ille­gal to jump from the ter­race). The dis­tance from the ter­race to the bot­tom is only 13 m, but this is an impres­sive height for such a wood­en structure.

The tem­ple was very busy, in gen­er­al there was a lot going on in Kyō­to. Some­what apart from the main tem­ple was a small pago­da and it was a lit­tle calmer there.

Kyōto,Japan

On the way back, we found sev­er­al stands sell­ing yat­suhashi (jap. 八ツ橋), a can­dy very pop­u­lar in Kyō­to. In one store, you could try them. They were very tasty and we got plen­ty of them.

Kyōto,Japan

After vis­it­ing the tem­ple com­plex, we walked back down through the nar­row streets and even found a Star­bucks. How­ev­er, this time it was com­plete­ly in the style of a teahouse.

From the café we walked down to Yasa­ka Pago­da. The street over­look­ing the pago­da is prob­a­bly one of the most famous pho­to spots in Kyō­to. Many young peo­ple in gor­geous kimonos strolled down here. In beau­ti­ful light, this result­ed in won­der­ful motifs. Here is one of my favorite pic­tures of this trip:

Kyōto,Japan

We then con­tin­ued towards Heian-jin­gu shrine and found a few more shrines and tem­ples, but this is not dif­fi­cult in Kyō­to. There is some­thing to see every­where. Here are some pic­tures of the Yasa­ka Shrine. Simone and Luise got anoth­er stamp for their Goshuin­cho books.

The Japan­ese Goshuin­cho is a book that can be pre­sent­ed at tem­ples and shrines in Japan to receive a stamp as a souvenir.

Lit­er­al­ly trans­lat­ed, the name means “ven­er­a­ble red stamp book” and own­ing one makes any trav­el­er more than a mere tourist. Japan­ese often own such a stamp book and take it with them when trav­el­ing in Japan to get a per­son­al­ized sou­venir at var­i­ous tem­ples and shrines.

After that we went to the Chion-in tem­ple. After the entrance you first have to climb a very steep stone stair­case - no won­der, the name of the tem­ple means some­thing like “moun­tain peak”.

Final­ly, we reached the last tem­ple / shrine of the day and thus the num­ber four, the Heian Jin­gu. We had def­i­nite­ly already vis­it­ed it in 2014. The large com­plex is very impres­sive with the wide area and the huge torii at the entrance and the col­ors are also always great.

Kyōto,Japan

On the way back we dis­cov­ered the Bud­dhist Myo­den-ji tem­ple with the stat­ue of the monk Nichii, who found­ed it. Unfor­tu­nate­ly, it was already closed, so Simone and Luise could not get anoth­er stamp for their book.

For din­ner, Luise had reserved a table at “Daishogun,” a restau­rant that offers yakiniku. Meat and veg­eta­bles are roast­ed on a gas grill embed­ded in the table. In addi­tion, one can order all kinds of side dish­es. Again, this was done by scan­ning a QR code on our cell phone. We had Cae­sars sal­ad, kim­chi and fries. We also had shrimps - which required man­u­al work. In Japan, you usu­al­ly eat shrimps in their shells, but we did­n’t go that far.

It was incred­i­bly good, of course we took the most expen­sive range of meat, with Wagyu beef. Luise ordered a soju to try this once. How­ev­er, there then came a 360 ml bot­tle with 13% alco­hol - it turned out to be a very fun­ny evening. For dessert we had a matcha ice cream crème brûlée - delicious.

Triv­ia: Yakiniku (jap. 焼(き)肉, engl. “grilled meat”) refers to the tech­nique of prepar­ing meat on a grill in the Japan­ese style. This is rel­a­tive­ly new in Japan. Japan has a long his­to­ry of recur­ring offi­cial bans on meat con­sump­tion. It was not until the Mei­ji Restora­tion in 1871, with the inten­tion of becom­ing more west­ern-like, that the ban was final­ly lift­ed for all lev­els of soci­ety and meat became wide­ly avail­able in the Japan­ese diet. Ten­no (Emper­or) Mei­ji per­son­al­ly spurred the cam­paign for meat con­sump­tion by pub­licly eat­ing beef on Jan­u­ary 24, 1873. The ter­mi­nol­o­gy orig­i­nat­ed from this time.

In 1872, in the then famous cook­book Seiyō Ryōrit­su (西洋料理通, rough­ly: “Man­u­al of West­ern Cui­sine”) by Kana­ga­ki Robun, as well as in the Seiyō Ryōri Shi­nan (西洋料理指南, rough­ly: “Intro­duc­tion to West­ern Cui­sine”) book by Keigakudō Shu­jin, the terms for grilled meat and steak are trans­lat­ed as yakiniku (焼肉) and iriniku (焙肉).