This morning in Kyoto, Japan, I took a stroll through a grove, Arashiyama Bamboo Grove, and visited a garden, Okochi Sanso Garden. I slept in a bit, so that was the extent of my morning.
I know. I know. A whole morning and not a single temple or shrine. That’s shocking for Kyoto, right? You can barely turn around here without bumping into one.
If you’re going to bump into something, I guess a temple or a shrine is a good option for it. You then have a ready-made location to pray for forgiveness for colliding with it.
Be that as it may, while Buddhist and Shinto religious buildings and, often, even more brilliantly, their grounds, may dominate the tourist circuit, they’re not all that Kyoto has to offer.
Among those other attractions, Arashiyama Bamboo Grove, where I started my morning activities, is among the top billing in my guidebooks and walking tour app.
Okochi Sanso Garden doesn’t get as high a rating, but in my opinion, it’s even more worth a visit, by far.
Arashiyama Bamboo Grove
The choice of which to visit first was made for me. From the urban train station in the district where the two attractions are, you have to walk through the Arashiyama Bamboo Grove to get to Okochi Sanso Garden.
I said “urban train” rather than just “train” because saying just train makes it sound like I had to travel a considerable distance. I didn’t. As in Tokyo, JR (Japan Rail) runs some above-ground, electric trains that, in terms of the frequency of trains and stations, operate more like a subway. I was on one of those.
To prove that I’m bold enough not to shy away from superfluity, Arashiyama Bamboo Grove is a bamboo grove. It’s located on the far west side of Kyoto, near the base of the mountains.
I read somewhere that it’s impossible for a picture to fully capture the beauty of the Arashiyama Bamboo Grove. I don’t think they were speaking specifically about me. I forgot where I read that, but it was in a source that’s available to the general public. If they indeed meant that no one, including top nature photographers, can take an adequate picture of it, then it goes without saying that my photos don’t come close.
Making it even more difficult to take a good picture, the Arashiyama Bamboo Grove was thronged today.
Over the past two days, I speculated that the sights I visited that were packed were so because it was a weekend. The hordes don’t have that excuse today. It’s a Monday in November and, to the best of my knowledge, there are no national, regional or local holidays here today.
The Arashiyama Bamboo Grove is in two sections. The first, starting from the end where I entered it, is quite flat. The second is up a slight, gentle hill. A single wide paved path cuts through the middle of the grove. Fences constructed of vertical, closely thatched long twigs held in place by horizontal bamboo stalks line both sides of the path. The fences prevent visitors from walking into the grove. You must follow the path.
If the grove were empty, the best photographs would likely be ones looking down the path, with the bamboo towering up on either side of it. However, I don’t think it’s ever empty. Every source of tourist information highly recommends a visit. It’s probably standard fare for every tour group that comes to Kyoto. And Kyoto is heavily touristed.
Because of the hordes, the best photograph looking along the path is probably to be had in the section of the grove that slopes slightly. It’s easier to take a shot over people’s heads that way. As it is, I held my phone up as high over my head as I could to take a picture.
Considering the crowd issue, the best shots of the Arashiyama Bamboo Grove are probably to be had by standing at one side of the path and shooting into the grove, where people aren’t allowed. Damned people. They spoil everything.
Okochi Sanso Garden
By the way, my walking tour app and Google Maps call this sight Okochi Sanso Garden, but an official sign in front of the entrance calls it Okouchi Sansou Garden. However, carefully taped to the lower bar of the sign’s wood frame, there’s a computer-printed, black-and-white, plasticized sign saying just “Okochi Sanso Garden.”
Only one of my three guidebooks mentions it at all. It puts a couple of diacritics in the name, calling it Ōkōchi Sansō.
I’m going to go with the majority here and call it Okochi Sanso Garden.
The other two of my guidebooks don’t mention Okochi Sanso Garden at all, in any of its spelling variations. The lack of attention is a horrible oversight, in my opinion. It’s fabulous. If it were up to me, I’d give it star billing*.
(Consider “star billing” to be foreshadowing. It’ll come up in a little while. You’ve been warned.)
Probably thanks to its lesser attention, Okochi Sanso Garden wasn’t busy today. It certainly wasn’t empty either. But it felt quite comfortable in that regard. (Arashiyama Bamboo Grove didn’t feel comfortable. It felt crushed.)
Just before the ticket booth, two identical signs say, “I hope you can meet Buddha here today.”
Me too. Me too! But I’d probably have gotten tongue-tied if I met Buddha. I mean, what would I say to him? “How do you like Nirvana? Enlightened enough for you?” That seems too trite, doesn’t it?
As it happens, I didn’t meet Buddha today.
Wait. Maybe Buddha was there, but he cleverly disguised himself as a picture-taking tourist. Autograph-seekers would likely constantly pester him if they recognized him. To be honest, I couldn’t blame him if he did disguise himself. It must be hell being a celebrity.
At one time, Kyoto was the hub of Japanese cinema. In the 1930s, the area cranked out 500 films per year. One of its biggest stars was Okochi Denjiro, who lived from 1898 to 1962. (I imagine that, like the garden’s name, there are probably multiple English transliterations of his name.) Being a superstar made Okochi wealthy. He used some of that wealth to build a retreat up on a ridge of a hill. That former retreat is now the Okochi Sanso Garden.
Just past the entrance, there’s a small introductory centre with some of Okochi Denjiro’s film posters.
A visit to Okochi Sanso Garden involves strolling along a circular route through the incredible grounds. You pass enchanting forests with moss floors, carefully landscaped areas, a small shrine, a building with a couple of meditation rooms, a teahouse, and a couple of beautiful vistas.
I really lucked out with my timing on this trip. The trees on the hills sported autumn foliage with truly radiant reds, oranges, and yellows. While I was planning this trip, I’d read that the peak fall foliage in Japan comes in late November. It’s now November 10, not even mid-November. I didn’t want to come later because I feared it would start getting too cold in Hakone, where I was before Kyoto. But it worked out brilliantly.
When I was in Tokyo at the start of this trip, few trees had even begun to change colour. In Hakone, the colours were vibrant. You’d expect earlier fall foliage there because it’s in the mountains and cooler. However, here in Kyoto, the foliage has put on an even more dazzling show.
At one of the clearings with a vista looking out from the hilltop toward central Kyoto, there was a small area where people, such as me, could stand and take pictures. Immediately beside that space, Okochi had built a covered meditation platform that is still there today.
Today, while the view down the hillside is tranquil, most of the vista is filled with Kyoto’s sprawl, with the mountains on the other side of Kyoto off in the distance. This didn’t seem to me to be the ideal spot for meditation. Quiet nature, would be more like it. I serendipitously got an answer to that.
While I was there, a tour guide brought a small English-speaking group through. He looked local and was wearing street clothes, rather than any sort of uniform, and I didn’t see an identifying badge on him. He spoke English well, but with an accent.
I’m writing this from memory, so I’m heavily paraphrasing here. He told his group something to the effect of, “Okochi Sanso built this meditation platform so that when he finished work for the day, he could come here and meditate. Kyoto was much smaller then, so it was a much more peaceful view then. The sign on the meditation platform says ‘do not enter,’ but I let my guests go on it, assume Zen yoga poses, and snap photos. Many people use Photoshop to show themselves levitating above the platform.”
This elicited two thoughts in my mind.
First, are people so vapid that when they have the incredible good fortune to place themselves in the midst of this glorious natural beauty, they find it necessary to create a fake image of themselves levitating amid it? That fakery feels contrary to the core premise of meditation, the here-and-now, to me.
Second, I don’t think the guide was associated with the garden in any way other than independently guiding groups through it and other nearby attractions. I suspect he had no more authority to permit his guests to go on the platform than I had to tell myself, “The sign on the meditation platform says ‘do not enter,’ but I give myself permission to go on.” Just to be clear, I didn’t think or do that.
After my splendid time in Okochi Sanso Garden, I found myself wondering why the tourism guidebooks gush over the Arashiyama Bamboo Grove, but give scant, if any, attention to Okochi Sanso Garden. The former was a grand sight, but to my mind, the latter was much more magnificent.
As I write that, it comes to mind that part of why I preferred Okochi Sanso Garden is that it was much less crowded. I probably wouldn’t have enjoyed it nearly as much if I were forced to go with the flow of the crowd in a crush of people. Arashiyama Bamboo Grove came close to that. So, maybe it’s best if it doesn’t get much attention in the guidebooks and elsewhere. Shhh. Don’t tell anyone about it.
More pictures of Okochi Sanso Garden:
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