So I'm now three countries from my time in Kyoto - amazing to consider that its only been about three weeks that I've been traveling and I've already seen four countries - but there was more about my last days there to tell. Much more, but I'll just put some of my experiences, thoughts, and impressions down here.
Before I left the states I booked a night at a Yoshimizu ryokan, a traditional Japanese style inn, located just outside the Gion district in Maruyama park near the Yasaka Shrine. The directions from the confirmation email appeared to be a bit confusing, so the day before I was to check in I wandered to the park to find the inn. As it turned out it wasn't very complicated and, contrary to some of the comments on TripAdvisor.com, was not a difficult "climb" to the front door. (I only wish they had a little sign in English to let you know you've found the right place. But even that wasn't such a big deal.) The pleasures of the ryokan are in it's serenity, traditional Japanese soaking tubs, and sleeping on a tatami mat. Yoshimizu met all three perfectly. My room was sparsely decorated and looked out over the yard of the house next door. I felt a sense of calm come over me just by sliding back the paper door and stepping inside. It was as if the world of modern Kyoto could not penetrate the paper panels.
Before getting to the inn, I walked throughout the city during the day, logging some 9 miles according to my best estimate from the map. I visited the Nijō Castle and Kinkaku-ji, also known as the Golden Temple, both places worthy of entire posts themselves, as well as walked along countless sides streets to simply soak up the atmosphere of the city. Needless to say, I was tired and in need of a good washing when I checked-in. But first would need to be dinner. Naturally.
When I consulted my Old Kyoto Guide, which I highly recommend for anyone visiting the city, it mentioned that there was an imabo restaurant located a very short walk from the inn. When I read the description of imabo, and this restaurant in particular, I knew I had to try it. To borrow the author's description, imabo is "a dish that literally comes from the roots of Kyoto cuisine. A bowl of delicious ebi-imo (an unusual variety of shrimp-shaped potatoes imported originally by Buddhist priests from China) and bodara (a kind of preserved fish from the Japan Sea) are served with soup, rice, and the ever-present Kyoto pickles."
So that, and a bit more, was what I read and was ready to try. Off I went in search of the restaurant, which was made easy by the photo accompanying the description in the book. What I wasn't ready for was the way the hostess and three waitresses at the front tried to explain to me that this was an imabo restaurant. Obviously something that they tend not to see westerns trying - or at least not there. But I assured them with a big smile and nod that indeed I knew what was on the menu and that I was ready to get to the root of Kyoto cooking.
My kimono-clad waitress led me down the stone path with small, private dinning rooms on each side shielded from view by paper screens to mine. She pulled back the screen to my dining room, I slipped off my shoes, and hopped up and into the room. I looked at the menu and selected the third combination meal, a bottle of cold sake, and sat back to see what would come to the table. What arrived was a tray with several small dishes, which the waitress dutifully explained to me what each one was in perfect Japanese. It had to be perfect Japanese because I didn't understand a single thing and just meekly nodded each time she pointed to a dish. Even without knowing anything of what was said, I knew how perfect the tray and its dishes looked and was excited to try them all.
There was the potato and dried fish dish, a pot of Japanese rice (which I've come to realize I could make a meal out of and be happy), assorted Kyoto pickles, clear broth soup, and a dish that can be best described as seaweed wrapped around a sesame paste (I think) and marinated in a light rice wine vinegar brine.
Each dish was prepared and presented with such precision that it was almost difficult to eat them, but I was certainly glad that I did. The flavors, especially the dried fish and potato, was unlike what I've previously thought of as Japanese food but exquisite. I'm not sure if imabo will ever win over mainstream western palates, but if you ever have the opportunity to visit Kyoto it is well worth the experience.After dinner I wandered through Maruyama park taking in the changing scenery with the setting sun. The passage of each minute as the sun slipped below the horizon brought new colors and sights to the already beautiful scene. As dusk gave way to night, I headed back to the ryokan. Returning to its serenity, I changed into the kimono and went to bathe. Now bathing in Japan is not about cleaning oneself, that is done before you enter the tub. The reason it is important to clean yourself before getting in the bath is that it is a communal tub, used by many people in turn. Sitting on a low wooden stool next to the soaking tub you thoroughly scrub yourself from head to toe and rise off with a hand-held shower faucet. Because I had walked so much during the day, I actually repeated this step to be sure I was completely cleaned. Once that is done it is time to get in the tub and let the warm water soak away the tensions and pressures of the day. I remained in it for nearly half an hour and reemerged rested, relaxed, and ready for a well deserved long night's sleep.
My remaining time in Kyoto was equally as interesting and memorable. I toured the city more, seeing the Imperial Palace - where I discovered they do have an alarm system to prevent people from jumping across the small moat onto the ledge beside the wall. But the real highlight of my final day/night was dinner with new friends at a neighborhood restaurant owned and exceptionally run by Manzo-san and his son.
This was a multi-course meal but without the formality of the kaiseki meal. Instead, the meal was served and enjoyed with the semi-casual feel of a favored neighborhood restaurant. The dishes included braised short ribs, a sashimi platter, cold soba noodles, a fried custard, and more. Despite seemingly never leaving his position behind the counter, it was clear that each dish served was lovingly overseen by Manzo-san himself. He stood proudly monitoring every movement taking place in his small dinning room insuring every guest was absolutely satisfied with their experience. Even today, some two months since the meal, I am smiling and salivating at the memory of it.
We lingered over our meal and libations so long that when we were done there were no other customers left. Since they were closing up anyway, we convinced Manzo and his staff (which wasn't very difficult) to join us as we partook in that classic Japanese tradition: karaoke. Normally I am loathe to do karaoke since ever place I'd ever seen before was at bars where you basically embarrass yourself before a large crowd of strangers. In Japan - and all the other countries I traveled in - however, karaoke is done in private rooms where you're only embarrassing yourself in front of your friends...a much more appealing activity. Drinks were ordered, songs requested, and we all took turns with the microphone. I crooned to Billy Joel's New York State of Mind and a few other classic rock hits I thought I could muscle through. What I'd originally been reluctant to do, I enjoyed immensely. The night continued for some time with more drinks, songs, and friendly laughter. Considering the final karaoke encore of the night was well past 2 a.m., it was a remarkable feat of willpower to wake up at 8:30 a.m. for my train to Osaka International Airport and my flight, with a connection in Incheon, to Hanoi.
Its been about a month and a half since I left Kyoto but Kyoto hasn't, nor do think it will any time soon, left me. Why I chose only to visit Kyoto when I was making these plans I cannot say. There was something that drew me to the city, an intangible feeling of needing to visit even though I knew very little of it. After being there and speaking with others, I discovered that I am not alone in having this feeling. There truly is something special about Kyoto. Had I returned to American after my time there I think I would have been content, but it was just the beginning of a longer, deeper journey.
