“Even in Kyoto, hearing the cuckoo, I long for Kyoto.”
Bashō wrote this haiku in the 17th Century, but you can imagine how it might resonate today. Kyoto is Japan’s ninth largest city, but one of the most visited in the country for its concentration of temples teasing tourists with a time travel adventure to a romantic era of Japan full of geisha, samurai, and whatever else the gawking western imagination can conjure up.
It’s easy to picture a local squeezing their way through crowds that are clambering to visit a temple they saw on TikTok. Fed up, the local might think to themselves, “In Kyoto, hearing the tourist, I long for Kyoto.”
But Kyoto’s still out there… If you know when and where to look. And if I, the cuckoo tourist can figure it out, so can you.
Kimonos in Kyoto
I arrive in Kyoto with tired legs after running in the Ninja Trail Run ultramarathon less than 24 hours ago. As I mentioned in the first episode in this Japanese series of YouTube videos, part of my mission on this trip is to explore vegan and vegetarian Japanese cuisine. So after dropping my bags, I head straight to Uno Yukiko for lunch, ordering up a bowl of their soy milk ramen. And I gotta get the dumplings, too. You know… research!
Like the cuckoo or typical tourist, I didn’t do much prior planning before my visit to Kyoto. So I spend my first afternoon wandering around nearby parks and temples with modest crowds.
Fun fact, almost everyone you see wearing a traditional kimono in public is a tourist renting one. I don’t believe this is viewed negatively by locals or as cultural appropriation. But… it’s interesting nonetheless.
I personally don’t get cosplaying as other cultures. Then again, there’s an endless well of human activity that I can’t even begin to understand. So just add this one to the list.
Temples surround Kyoto because it served as the head of Japan’s imperial court from the city’s founding in 794 until the Meiji Restoration moved the capital to Tokyo in 1868. So that’s roughly 11 centuries of accumulated power and wealth. And where there’s power and wealth, there’s usually religion. Just ask the Pope.
Not to mention, Kyoto is surrounded by mountains and rivers that Shinto and Buddhist philosophies believe hold spiritual significance. And although I’m about as spiritual as a door knob, I’m about to see why.
Forest Bathing in Kyoto
Early morning. The trains are already full with salary men on their way to work, and kids going to school. Me? I’m heading for the trees.
There’s not a soul here. It’s just dumb-ole-me. And so far, it’s got that aesthetic that I remember from the Nakasendo Way nine years ago. So for about 10 kilometers, I’m going to be out here enjoying a slice of Japanese solitude –– a.k.a. “forest bathing.”
Forest bathing or “Shinrin-yuku” is a term that’s been thrown around in googly-eyed western articles over the past few years, but it’s been a Japanese concept since the 1980s. The idea was simple: tech-boom workers are burned out, so let’s send them into the woods and encourage people to reconnect with their natural surroundings. Research followed the next year, showing that there were actual physiological benefits to forest bathing, including reduced stress, improved immune function, lower blood pressure, enhanced cardiovascular health, improved respiratory health, decreased inflammation, and enhanced recovery from physical fatigue.
I realize that list sounds like the babbling warning that comes at the end of drug commercials, but those are all good things! And if you’re going to take a forest bath, you can certainly do worse than Kyoto.
The Fushimi Inari Dilemma
The next day, I come face-to-face with the Fushimi Inari dilemma. The dilemma being, this is a place known for its issues with overtourism. Crowds of selfie-snapping tourists fill up the walking path that runs through the 10,000 vermilion Tori gates like swarms of swooning Swifties hoping for a glimpse of their idol.
Usually, I just skip the places I know will be packed butts to crotch with tourists. But at the same time, I don’t know when I’ll be in Kyoto again. So I decide to go early in the morning in hopes of beating the crowds. Plus I’ve found that the higher and further you’re willing to hike, the easier it is to find a bit of solitude.
Fortunately, even at Fushimi Inari, serenity is but a brief jaunt away.
I ditch the main path early on for a forested trail that leads to slews of seemingly untouched and rarely visited shrines. This, I imagine, is why so many believe in the spiritual power of this place. You’ve got fresh air, the soft crunch of the trail under your feet, and the gentle sound of water surrounded by thousands of symbols of human devotion and gratitude.
It sure as hell beats the mandatory office get together.
Although I’ve left the main path, I’m still able to work my way up to Mount Inari. In Shintoism, Inari is the deity revered as a protector of the land, fertility, and abundance. The shrine is most often connected to rice, which was essential to survival in ancient Japan. People would come and seek Inari’s blessing to ensure the well-being of their families and communities.
I later learn that the pathway leading to the shrine is meant to symbolize the connection between the physical and spiritual realm. Walking through the gates is considered an act of spiritual purification with each gate representing a step toward deeper enlightenment. Considering how un-enlightened I am, I guess it’s only appropriate that I almost immediately left the path.
The gates also represent transitions or passages in life, with the journey through them viewed as a metaphor for personal growth or transformation. In other words, I should’ve done a few laps.
You can often spot foxes or kitsune at shrines. They’re seen as messengers of Inari, carrying the deity’s spirit. So naturally, you make offerings to the fox statues in hopes of scoring a blessing, particularly in matters of business and wealth.
Next Stop
Leaving Fushimi Inari, I wonder how many of the cuckoos around here know about the spiritual significance of what they’ve just participated in. To be honest, I’m ashamed at my own ignorance. Most of what I learned about the shrine I learned after the fact.
So I vow not to let it happen again, to do my homework before I set foot on a plane or train, and arrive a more conscious and appreciative traveler –– to separate myself from the proverbial cuckoo and be, dare I say, a smidge more enlightened when I travel to a place like Kyoto –– a place imbued with so much culture, history, and natural beauty, it’s hard to believe it’s real.
For now, I’ve got a bullet train to catch. Next stop: Tokyo.
