Vietnamese women, like these market sellers, really are the heart and soul of this culture. Vietnamese men do their part for sure, but without the women keeping their eyes on things, this country would almost certainly go off the rails.
When I see the word “botanical,” my first thought is gin. Okay, but… A visit to Kyoto’s very beautiful botanical garden reminded me that the word has other uses as well. I spent a long, delightful morning wandering through this magnificent park. Enough said: The photos speak for themselves.
Located in the foothills around Mt. Otowa to the east of Kyoto, Kiyomizu-dera Temple overlooks modern Kyoto. The temple was established in 788 CE during Japan’s Nara period, and affiliated with the venerable Hosso sect of Japanese Buddhism. Today, the monks caring for Kiyomizu-dera belong to the Kita-Hosso sect. Taken from the balcony of one of the smaller halls, this image shows the temple’s Main Hall and the pagoda in the entrance area on the far right with the city of Kyoto in the distance.
The West Gate is in the foreground with the temple’s pagoda directly in back. I am facing due east at 9:00am on an overcast morning. Why I have no photo of the larger, more impressive main gate to Kiyomizu-dera just to the left of where I am standing to take this photo is absolutely beyond me. I do, however, have a photo showing part of the main gate taken from inside the entrance with Kyoto in the distance. To the west, some blue sky has broken through the clouds.
For awhile it appeared that the day would become bright and sunny as the photos of the pagoda above and, below, of the West Gate from inside the entrance to Kiyomizu-dera suggest.
Kiyomizu-dera’s Main Hall sits on a steep incline and is supported by a wooden trellis that sets the building’s platform some 13 meters above the base of the incline below. My photo of the Main Hall does not really do justice to the building itself because I am distracted by the size of the crowd on the platform. It is no surprise that crowds of people want to visit a site like Kiyomizu-dera with its magnificent examples of Japanese temple architecture in a beautiful setting offering breathtaking views of its surroundings. I am taking the photo below at 9:45 in the morning on any old Tuesday in October. The crowd is bound to be larger by midday, and one can only imagine what happens on weekends or holidays. It is no wonder that some locales are instituting reservation systems that allow access at a specific time on a given day for popular sites with high volumes of visitors. If they are not in Japan already I would not be at all surprised to see such reservations systems arriving soon in Kyoto and elsewhere in the country. With literally billions of people able to afford relatively low-cost flights and budget tours, the problem of unsustainable over-tourism is not likely to get better in the foreseeable future.
A short way up the hillside from the main temple area, this small pagoda overlooks the Main Hall. By this time the clouds had returned and there was not much sunshine left. I did not make it all the way to the pagoda, instead turning to head down to the Otowa Waterfall at the base of the incline with the Main Hall at the top. Water is indeed falling from three pipes into a small pool, though Otowa is not what we generally think of as a waterfall. Be that as it may, Wikipedia tells us that Kiyomizu-dera means “pure water temple.” Those who drink a cupful of water from the falls are purified. I decided a single cup was unlikely to meet my needs for purification and kept on walking.
Despite the crowds of people, there were quiet spots and moments of peace for contemplation throughout the temple area.
After weeks of endless cloudy days and rain, yesterday was dry, sunny and gorgeous, offering a perfect opportunity for a dinnertime stroll through the Hoi An Old Town. The recently refurbished Japanese Bridge – it was built in the 16th century by a community of Japanese traders living in the area – looks great, all clean and shiny and lit up in the evening.
I don’t mind admitting I am not very optimistic about the coming year. On the big picture level, it is mostly a question of how bad things will be. Anything not truly horrible will count as a pleasant surprise. On a personal level, I am in survival mode.
In May of this year, I bought a mirrorless Nikon Z7 II with a Z-mount 24-200mm zoom attached; this kit weighs in at around 1.2kg. If I swap out the zoom for the Z-mount 40mm prime lens I bought, I drop the weight I have slung around my neck to about 800gm. While the full-frame Z7 II (translation: the camera’s image sensor that records each photo taken is roughly the size of a 35mm film negative) is not a small camera, it is nonetheless noticeably smaller and lighter than the Nikon D750 I used for 8 years preceding my purchase of the Z7 II. Not that I am getting older or anything like that, but the reduction in weight has definitely been a welcome change.
All of that said, I was surprised at the number of people I saw in Japan walking around doing street shooting with enormous zoom lenses attached to their cameras. By way of example: I cannot imagine spending a day carrying around a camera-lens combination as big and heavy as the young woman in the photo is packing. I can’t tell exactly what she has there, but I figure her rig weighs at least 2kg and possibly as much as 3kg. Before you say that isn’t so much, try carrying around that kit for a day of shooting and let me know how your neck feels when you get home. And keep in mind that hand-holding a big zoom lenses like that steady enough to get really sharp images is no easy trick, even with vibration reduction built-in.
Well, as somebody once said: different folks, different strokes.
The Fushimi Inari Taisha in Kyoto is the principal shrine in Japan for the Shinto deity Inari. In fairness to the deity, I should add that, in addition to being the deity of sake, Inari is also the Shinto spirit for agriculture and rice, and is associated with prosperity and worldly success. The shrine was first established in 711 CE, but it was one hundred years later that it moved to its current location. The entrance to the shrine area is on the outskirts of Kyoto at the base of a small mountain, the peak of which is 233 meters about sea level. The shrine’s main buildings are located near the entrance, and beyond this area are several trails leading from the entrance to the summit of the mountain with a number of smaller shrines to Inari along the paths.
The photo at the top of the page shows the main entrance to the shrine—the Romon or Two-Storied Gate. The Romon faces west and, as I approach, glows in the late afternoon sun of a dazzling October day. Below is the Romon from the other side after passing through the entrance. The shrine’s website (https://inari.jp/en/) notes that the gate was built in 1589 by a powerful samurai and feudal lord (daimyo) named Toyotomi Hideyoshi.
I arrived at Fushimi Inari Taisha shortly after four in the afternoon. Already a bit worn out from a long day, I walked around the main shrine area near the entrance, but did not make it to the top of the mountain. Fushimi Inari Taisha is, perhaps, best known for the Senborn Torii, more than 800 brightly painted vermilion torii placed close together and forming a sort of tunnel that winds part of the way up the mountain. Altogether, there are thousands of torii donated by worshipers in the main shrine area and along the paths leading to the top of the mountain. (For more about torii: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Torii.) I had planned to walk through the Senborn Torii, but when I got to the beginning of the walkway and saw the crowd of people already walking inside, I changed my mind. Not much tranquility or peace of mind to be found on that walk, or so it seemed to me.
All of the shrines and temples I visited in Japan were beautifully preserved and diligently cared for; Fushimi Inari Taisha was no exception. The first of the images that follow is of the Honden—the Main Shrine. I tried to get a closer, more revealing view of this building, but each time I composed a photo one or more visitors planted themselves in such a way that they blocked a key part of the composition. It had already been a long day, and after a few tries, I settled for the photo I had and moved on.
Around 5:30 or so both of my feet put themselves down and said, “Enough is enough, time to go.” I was dragging, and it was indeed time to head back to my hotel. After walking through the Two-Storied Gate headed for the metro stop, I turned for a final look at Fushimi Inari Taisha. What I saw was a lot of people many of whom were also on their way out, and in the background, the roof of the old guard house next to the main gate.
I turned away and headed in the direction of the metro down the narrow street full of people and lined with shops.
