We embarked on quite an adventure to a couple tourist stops on the north west corner of the city. Stemming from our bus failure earlier today, I found us a route that avoided buses. However, we had to take a JR train from Kyoto station in the general direction of west, then we got off the train, walked a couple blocks to a different station and took a tram for another couple miles up north and got off when my GPS showed us within about half a mile of Ryoan-Ji Temple.
I saw a pair of women wearing kimonos walking up the steps and took a quick pic before a chubby white man got in the shot.
The rock garden at Ryoan-Ji was the inspiration for my backyard Japanese garden project back in Wisconsin. Excuse the blonde hair. The early 2000s were a different time. I cannot help how trendy I was. This garden proved to be quite difficult to keep pristine. Leaves from nearby trees would land within the area and sully it up. Also raking proper circles around the rocks was no easy task either. So imagine the effort it takes to maintain something that is on a much larger scale.
People sit at Ryoan-Ji to mediate on its meaning. Personally, I just think the creator thought the spacing of the rocks looked good and called it a day. But not everyone has such firsthand experience in creating Japanese rock gardens. Look at mine, for example. Does it symbolize the battle between good and evil? Is it a map of secret Pacific islands? Or perhaps it is a reenactment of the naval formations at the Battle of Midway. After our visit to Ryoan-Ji, we took a taxi to Kinkaku-Ji, which is better known for its “Golden Pavilion.”
Also heavy with tourists, we dodged selfie sticks and cell phones to get a clear shot of the pavilion. After getting our pictures, we continued to walk around the grounds where we saw a small waterfall and more selfie sticks. We left just as the grounds were about to close. We took another taxi to a different train station, where we took the JR line back to Kyoto. I am shocked that all of these connections actually worked. I deserve a pat on the back, or a cold Japanese beer.
Our evening adventures evolved in a different direction, however. Just a block away from our hotel is a building with giant neon lights spelling out PACHINKO, the intriguing Japanese game that’s like pinball, but with significantly less control over the outcome. Nicole and I figured we would try it out. We walked in to the most deafening noise you can imagine. If you think casinos are loud, this was 10x that. It took us a little while to figure out how to get started. We got to the part where we put money in the machine, but as all the buttons were in Japanese, we were a bit stumped after that. A businessman must have noticed our struggle and hit a button on his way by.
Dozens of tiny ball bearings came popping out. From doing a brief amount of research, I knew the object was to twist one of the knobs a certain amount to control how much the balls get launched into the machine. Beyond that, one just waits to see if the ball lands in the target area or just drops down elsewhere. And really, that’s about all there is to it. At one point, the machine made more noise and some more balls came out to extend our play a little bit, but it was a fairly fruitless endeavor that didn’t yield positive results. We left empty-handed without even a Hello Kitty pencil eraser. You see, you can’t win money from Pachinko, just tokens to be redeemed for prizes. Prizeless and deaf, we settled in for the night.
passports & pepto bismol 