MATURE FLÂNEUR
In Kyoto: A Quiet Walk in a Bamboo Forest
With a thousand other tourists
The last time I was in Kyoto my favorite experience was a walk through the Arashiyama Bamboo Forest on the western edge of the city. I recalled an overwhelming sense of peace and solitude strolling amongst the towering green giants. They rustled and clicked in the wind like ten thousand wooden wind chimes. It was one of the most moving, peaceful experiences of the trip. I was only sad that Teresa, my beloved spouse, was unable to join me. She had sprained her ankle a few days earlier during a training gig we were conducting in Tokyo. We had already made our booking for Kyoto, and so we went, her hobbling on crutches and me wrangling both our bags. But there was not much she could walk around and do.
So, during our current visit to Japan’s most beautiful city, I was determined to bring Teresa to Arashiyama, and share the bamboo forest experience with her.
Fall is one of the most dramatic seasons in Kyoto; the leaves change their clothing from uniform green into a kaleidoscopic array of colors, and it seems everyone from everywhere plans to visit Kyoto in November. Entering the bamboo forest was like entering Shinjuku train station in downtown Tokyo at rush hour!
It was so peculiar to be part of a massive, moving throng of people, surrounded by this most serene, empty, otherworldly forest. It felt as if we were a column of ants, marching through a field of grass, dwarfed by the giant green stalks. It took some doing, but I was able to frame a few of my photos to make it seem as if this were a place and time far removed from all humanity.
Looking around, I was surprised to see how many of the people around me were doing more than just snapping selfies with selfie-sticks. They were also gazing up in wonder, and I believe, taking in the true beauty of the place….even if Instagramming it at the same time. Well, was I not doing the same thing?
On the far side of the bamboo forest is a private, separate garden where the mountains begin. Like the entrance pathway, the admission fee is a bit steep — 800 yen. That, plus the uphill climb, seems enough of a deterrent to keep most of the tourist horde out of Okochi Sanso Garden; and so we left the crowd behind as we walked into the quiet hills.
Exiting the bamboo-forest green, an explosion of fall colors greeted us. Funnily enough, in Kyoto proper, fall has not quite arrived. But just slightly up the mountainside, the changing leaves are in full display. It was too much to take in at first. I hardly knew where to look, let alone how to focus my camera. I found myself using pano mode just to squeeze as much color into each frame as I possibly could:
The last photo in this series stopped me in my tracks when I took a closer look what was actually in front of me. The woman, rail thin, clad in dull beige colors, seemed to be experiencing a moment of epiphany, a bright vermillion leaf in her left hand, her right hand reaching for another. What, I wondered, was going through her mind?
Watching her absorbed in the trees settled something in me. I was over excited by the colors, I needed to calm down. I lowered my camera and took a few deep breaths. As I did, the colors seemed to open even more fully to me…or did I open more fully to them? My insides seemed ablaze. I drifted along the path, entranced, enthralled, enraptured. I felt transported to another land, another Japan.
At last we reached a little clearing that contained a modest wooden Shinto shrine. The placard nearby explained this was the original shrine on this hillside, one that Okochi Sanso used to come to as a young man. Here he would sit and contemplate, and draw spiritual sustenance. This man grew up to become a famous movie star in the silent picture era. Later, when his fame brought him fortune, he bought this hillside precisely because of this spot; he created this forest-garden path not only for himself, but for others to come and experience what he felt in this special place.
Several decades later, I can confirm that Okochi Sanso succeeded. What a gift he has given to his country and all who come here, preserving this special place, so that it may continue to touch our souls with its beauty.
***
Tim Ward is the author of Mature Flâneur: Slow Travels through Portugal, France, Italy and Norway.
