Date

2022-12-10, Saturday

Distance

36.20 km biked (3421.63 km in total)

I bounced out of bed at 5 am and ran off to Arashiyama on the other side of the city to photograph the famed bamboo grove embedded in the hushed magic that only dawn could offer. The streets were still asleep, quiet and empty, save for the occasional whir of a car or two — Kyoto at this hour felt like a secret: an ancient city holding its breath.

By the time I reached the entrance of the bamboo grove, there was no one else in sight. It was silent — eerily so. The kind of silence that isn’t just the absence of human noise, but the presence of something older, deeper. It's not entirely devoid of any sound, as I could sense the quiet rustle of wind against the towering green stalks swaying gently overhead, producing a hollow, melodic sound.

After the initial darkness, light started to filter through the dense canopy in pale, slanted shafts. Photographing the grove at that hour wasn’t just about capturing the light — it was about honouring the quiet. The grove transforms at dawn into something sacred, almost unreal. No crowd, no chatter — just that quiet rhythm of breath and shutter click. I didn’t feel like I was taking photos so much as trying not to disturb something ancient.

As the night progressively loosened its grip, a few visitors began to arrive on site. It felt like the forest itself had just woken up. So had I. Standing bathed in dawnlight and shadow, I felt profoundly still — and wildly awake.

After this memorable photo shoot, I rejoined my friend to officially launch a day of travel. We first dropped by Ippodo, the venerable tea shop tucked away in central Kyoto since 1717. Inside, the air was rich with the earthy aroma of green tea. We browsed the beautifully packaged teas, and ended up picking up a few tins exclusively sold at this store.

From there, we made our way to a busy shopping centre that was hosting a limited-time Haikyu!! POP-UP Store. The contrast was almost comical: from the hushed reverence of tea culture to the high-energy chaos of anime fandom. Even before the doors opened, a small line of fans had already formed. Inside, the space was decked out with life-size standees of the series’ beloved volleyball players, vibrant banners, and displays showcasing exclusive merchandise. Limited-edition keychains, acrylic stands, team-themed apparel filled the shelves. I lit up like a kid in a candy store, snapping up a few prized items and trying my luck at getting blind bags — although I didn't get the characters I was hoping for my Japanese tutor, I had great fun.

Our lunch made us equally swept up in the thrill — our unagi wish was finally fulfilled with a lunch of grilled eel at Nishiki Market. This time, we found ourselves in one of Kyoto’s traditional covered shopping alleys, where only pedestrians are allowed. The alley was narrow, and packed shoulder-to-shoulder with people; everywhere I looked, it was just a bobbing sea of heads as far as the eye could see. Lined on both sides with shops selling everything from skewered seafood to roasted tea and handmade sweets, the market pulsed with the energy of locals and tourists alike. Kyoto in shiwasu (師走, the year-end rush) was absolutely rocking.

Then we headed to Shimogamo Shrine. Just before it stood Kawai Shrine that is dedicated to the most beautiful deity in Japanese mythology. Yes — that’s exactly how it’s described. The place was packed with women praying for beauty, buying omamori charms and face-shaped ema called kagami ema. There was even a special room where they could color in the ema — it’s believed that the more beautifully you decorate the face, the more likely your wish will come true. The ema wall was quite the sight — rows upon rows of hand-painted faces, some so artistic you couldn’t help but admire them … and some that made you wonder if they were sincere or meant as curses. One even had a full beard — were they serious!?

Shimogamo Shrine, in contrast, felt more traditional. There were plenty of well-dressed families, as well as young women in furisode kimono, all making their way through the golden forest paths of the shrine grounds. It was stunningly picturesque. The forest trail was also filled with artists sketching the scenery — how I wish I could have the leisure to draw in this location!

Our afternoon was spent at Ginkaku-ji, the Silver Pavilion, and its surroundings including the Philosopher's Path, a stone-paved walkway that follows a gentle canal lined with cherry trees. Though bare in winter, the branches etched clean silhouettes against the sky. Small cafes peeked out from side streets, pedestrians strolled along the canal in quiet chatter, adding a bit of liveliness to this otherwise meditative scene.

Compared to the dazzling Golden Pavilion, Ginkaku-ji felt quieter, more refined — a place that didn’t need to impress, only to invite. We strolled through the gardens slowly, watching the interplay of shadow and light on moss, stone, and pine. This place has a kind of spiritual stillness — not just because they are ancient, but because their gardens were created with such pure intention to calm the souls. I think part of what makes them so powerful is that they were designed not to overwhelm, but to calm.

Tonight, we stayed at the home of my Japanese teacher's friend, who's also one of my conversation buddies and who, as it turns out, lives in a temple. Their family temple, Daizen-in, is a branch of Bukko-ji, founded in 1324. According to Google, Daizen-in has a long and distinguished history, and our host confirmed it was indeed very old. However, neither her husband or her was ordained; they both have full-time jobs elsewhere. Currently, the temple is in the charge of her father-in-law who's a monk. We had the rare chance to tour the temple’s main hall and even shared some strange religious encounters we had experienced along the road — much to her amusement.

She mentioned that every morning at 6 am, Bukko-ji holds an open breakfast session paired with a recitation of Buddhist scriptures. It’s free and open to the public — a peaceful way to start the day, usually ending by 8 am. Definitely something worth trying if you are ever curious.

The full take — 106 more photographs from this day