Another day, another three temples--and a shrine.

Seriously. I think we must average about 3 temples a day, and some days we don't sightsee at all. But here's how a typical day goes. Today we left early on our bikes because I had to pick up my Alien Registration card at a government office (thank God, I'm not in Arizona!). Afterwards, we wanted to go to Toji-Temple, which is on the far south side of Kyoto, because there's a huge market on the 21st of every month on the temple grounds. Toji is pretty spectacular in its own right--market (which was mobbed) or not. Its grounds include a five-story pagaoda (above) that is the largest pagoda in Japan. When the capital was moved from Nara to Kyoto in 794, two huge guardian temples were built on the east and west side of the southernmost gateway to the city. Toji is the east guardian temple. It retains its original architecture and layout and is a treasure house of Buddhist art. It also continues as an important Buddhist seminary and we saw many orange-clad monks, some of whom were standing at the entrance collecting alms, others were burning prayer sticks that you can purchase and write a prayer on. Then you leave it in a box and the monk burns it on the fire in front of him while he chants. Despite the market crowd, Toji was also filled with praying people, many praying in front of some of these spectacular statues of Buddha.

The grounds at Toji-in are lovely; here are two women picnicking by a small lake near the pagoda. One small lake was filled with turtles--I counted 13 without even trying.

So, now it's about noon and we decided that since we were in the "neighborhood," we would go to Sanjusangen-do, a holy building in which there are 1001 statues of Kannons (that's not a typo). I wasn't allowed to take pictures (signs every 10 feet or so say that they will check cameras at the exit--they didn't), so these pictures are from a book we bought in the shop. It is truly an awe-inspiring sight--1001 about 5-foot statues of the many-armed Kannon, each with a different face. There is a common belief that you can find the face of a loved one among them.

In front of the huge array are 28 frightening-looking "guardian" statues, and in the center a huge statue of an utterly beneficent Kannon. The whole thing takes your breath away.
Here's what the individual Kannon looks like close up.

Breathless and hungry by now, we went in search of lunch. We were wending our way north toward home on some back streets--we weren't exactly lost, I knew vaguely where we were--and, as is typical in Kyoto, you pass temple after shrine after temple. One shrine caught my eye and I stuck my head in the grounds. The whole shrine seemed to be dedicated to this pig-fish-whatever creature. Its statue was everywhere.

All the signs were in Japanese; this shrine was not meant for gaijin (people from somewhere not Japan) like us. So I have no idea what it was all about. Research anyone? I can't even look up the shrine because, remember, I only knew "vaguely" where we were.

Now we really mean it--lunch (it's about 3 pm). We were riding along another nondescript little street and saw a temple entrance that seemed to be attracting some people. We parked our bikes and went in. It turns out we were in Kennin-ji, the oldest Zen temple in Kyoto, filled with wonders. Going through a temple gate is sometimes like going through the back of the wardrobe into Narnia. Here's a little of what we saw--a Zen rock garden in the middle of the major temple building, along with a moss garden. An amazing painted dragon ceiling, a sweet little tea house, some major paintings on screens, and much more. All through that nondescript gate on that nondescript back street.

About an hour later (4 pm and still no lunch), we jumped on our bikes and, like heat-seeking missiles, went directly to our favorite noodle shop for what now had become an early dinner.
Bill here: we're talking about three or maybe four hours on our bikes; but as Terry says who knows what's around the next corner. If not a temple, maybe food. The 1001 statues was startling. Think about it: who has the power to arrange for the construction of these statues? And what is the belief system that would motivate him to do it? Imagine that you're a craftsman putting the lacquer on the statues before the gold leaf. What do you say to yourself? Good idea, O wise leader. We can use all these extra soldiers! Or, what a bloomin' idiot, but the work's steady. You stand there in that room and look at all those statues and it simply defies any kind of sensible explanation. Quelle day!