Date

2022-12-11, Sunday

Distance

18.70 km biked (3440.33 km in total)

In the morning, we left the temple where we had spent the night and headed straight for a spiritual classic — Kiyomizu-dera. Its iconic wooden stage, recently reopened after years of careful restoration, was calling. While the city was still asleep, we dared to cycle straight up Kiyomizu-zaka that's normally packed with tourists and quietly stored our bikes in a nearby alley. From there, we slipped into the temple grounds.

Even in the early hours, waves of tour groups from Southeast Asia and Korea had already begun arriving. Some had claimed the stone steps as a photo stage, posing in perfectly coordinated formations — it felt less like a religious site and more like a scene from a graduation album. Still, the energy was joyful, and I couldn’t help but smile watching everyone enjoy themselves.

The newly restored stage was breathtaking — the timber was pristine yet blended so seamlessly into its surroundings that it felt untouched. Japan’s craftsmanship in preserving heritage is nothing short of masterful..

Most of the autumn leaves had already fallen, carpeting the grounds in soft gold. But a few late-blooming maples stood out like crimson jewels, attracting clusters of amateur photographers. Naturally, we joined the crowd of camera-wielding admirers, trying to capture that last flash of fall.

At the Otowa Waterfall, the queue was impressively long. Instead of just sipping the sacred water, people were guzzling ladle after ladle like it was a spiritual all-you-can-drink buffet. Clearly, wishes were being made with great enthusiasm.

From Kiyomizu, we continued south to another Kyoto legend — Fushimi Inari Taisha. Yes, we made the full climb to the summit. I had hoped to get that perfect photo of the Senbon Torii, with the vermilion gates winding into the distance and not a soul in sight. But that fantasy dissolved quickly at the start — every time the path seemed clear, someone would round a corner or casually occupy the best framing spot for what felt like hours. The lighting didn’t cooperate either, with the sky mostly overcast.

But as we ascended further, the crowds began to thin out. Step by step, the noise receded, and soon I found myself in quieter stretches of the trail, where the torii tunnels stood empty — finally giving me the chance to capture that dreamlike, uninterrupted view. Every so often, the sun would break through the clouds, briefly casting warm, golden light onto the sea of vermilion gates. It was stunning — like the whole mountain was holding its breath in those moments. In the end, we laughed it off — before we even realised it, we had reached the top. Maybe that was the divine plan all along.

Interestingly, there were many teahouses scattered around the mountain. Every few turns, a refreshment stand would appear — almost like they were afraid hikers might get stranded.

Still, we made it down safely. But the real trial — our personal final boss fight — awaited us that night: Daikichi-yama Observatory, our campsite for the evening. I was on a mission to visit locations featured in the anime Sound! Euphonium, and the night view from this very spot was one of them. So, we committed to camping there.

We did not, however, expect the path up to be so brutal. It wasn’t a trail — it was a chaos of tight switchbacks, loose gravel, and slippery carpet of dead leaves. Riding was impossible, so we pushed our bikes in the dark, headlamps flickering, wheels bumping against rocks, gears clanking like some mismatched army marching toward madness. It was one of those moments you only survive through stubbornness … and a bit of swearing.

Earlier in the day, after visiting Fushimi, we made a quiet stop at the Kyoto Animation arson site to honour the memories of the victims. The building is gone now — the area looks like an ordinary residential neighbourhood — but standing there, knowing what had happened, hit me hard. It was humbling to pause and reflect on all the beauty this studio had brought into the world. A quiet, heavy moment — in stark contrast to the rest of the day’s vivid energy. How much both beauty and pain can shape a city.

The full take — 109 more photographs from this day