Philosopher's Path

I woke up at 7:30 AM this morning, planning to visit Ryôan-ji, one of Japan's most famous rock gardens.
I had to wade through the sea of shoes at the front door of the hostel to escape. I was trying to beat the crowds to Ryôan-ji, so time was of the essence here. I hopped on my rented bike and headed Northwest.


Arriving around 8:45AM, I was glad that I had left early. Only 9 or so people were viewing the famous garden. I didn't really have a "zen" experience, but I did enjoy the site. People can't decide why the rocks are laid out how they are. There are 15 in all, and only 14 can be viewed from any angle. Some believe they represent Japan's islands, some believe they're a tiger and her cubs swimming to a dragon. I think it's pretty. It's raked at least once a day, and unlike other Japanese rock gardens, there is not a single plant present. As I exited the temple, 50 or so boisterous Germans quickly removed their shoes to get a glimpse of the garden. Just in time...

I rode back east, biking along the border of the Imperial Gardens, to the museum district of Kyoto. The ride was nice, and the breeze created by constant motion was a must in the stifling heat. Luckily, this leg of the journey was all downhill. At times I would prop my feet up of the bike frame and let gravity do it's work. Above is another giant torii outside one of Kyoto's museums.


My plan was to find the Philosopher's Path, a 2km route chosen by, you guessed it, a Japanese philosopher. I began exploring the area at the base of the Eastern hills, sweating like my life depended on it (I guess it does when it's over 100 degrees outside). I walk uphill, passing under a giant brick waterway. I hike about 300 or so meters and decide that I've done enough uphill hiking for one month (Fuji anyone?). A small group of French people descend the hills, their hair soaked. One says, "there's a great waterfall up there, perfect for a quick bath". Again, it pays to go off the beaten track.

I keep climbing, and suddenly realize that there is no one around me. At the base there were countless people, foreign and local. I climb further, and begin to see shrines nestled in the hillside. I reach the waterfall, strip down, and duck under the water. The temperature change is shocking, and I audibly gasp with joy as I let the cold water cover me, wetting my hair. I emerge refreshed, and continue my climb.

I don't make it very far. The mosquitoes find me and swarm around like I'm a supremely popular foreign restaurant. My adventurous spirit is sucked away as my reasonable self tells me that I don't want to be itching mosquito bites on my 11 hour plane ride home tomorrow. I literally run down the hill, stopping only momentarily to take a few breathtaking photos.

I hop on my bike and search for the philosopher's path. I finally find it, and discover that more than half the people I pass are foreign visitors. I can understand why; the shaded path follows alongside a small canal that wraps itself around the Eastern hills. The cicada's screams are deafening, but nothing could ruin this experience for me. I pass by an amazing ink artist (above), sketching the path on a postcard-sized piece of paper. His drawings are amazingly detailed and beautiful, and I realize that I chose the right place to end the day. I head back home for shelter from the heat, and a final dip in the hostel's furo (bath) before dinner.

Philosophical findings? I tried to force myself to contemplate life, the universe, and everything else on my walk on the short path, but was unsuccessful. Improperly named path if you ask me.

Sitting here, though, on this psychologist-style couch in a noisy, hip hostel lounge, I realize that being lost is only a catastrophe if you let yourself panic. Think about the troubles people go through to "lose themselves". Hell, I spent almost 25 simultaneous hours on a plane to lose myself in Japan. It is only when we are totally immersed in the unknown that we have a chance to truly grow and view ourselves in a new light. So next time you're not sure which way to go, look up and notice how different and new the world seems when your path is unclear. Then you can actually check your map, figure out which way is North, and forge a trail.