Almost 40 in Japan: Navigating Kyoto’s Charms and Crowds

Fushimi Inari Taisha: Portal to a Holy Realm

Fushimi Inari Taisha’s gates wind through pathways that stretch into the mountainside.

Strawberry mochi sold at the Fushimi Inari grounds are a popular and tasty fuel for visitors after the trek up the mountain.

It’s as though time has stood still where I am. Sunlight reaches my cheeks, but the air is chilly. I look up and see a maze of tall, bright red gates that curve like routes leading up a mountain. As I move along, I feel a gentle prod as though I were being pushed into a holy site.

That prod is a literal one. I’m not alone, and there’s a large crowd walking around me. Someone did bump into me.

I’m in Fushimi Inari Taisha, my first destination on this crisp winter morning here in Kyoto. I arrived from Osaka by train about an hour earlier. I planned to arrive a bit later, but since I woke at 3 a.m. and can’t sleep again (hah, excited much), I decided to take the first train out of Osaka.

I arrived at Kyoto Station early in the morning, and I was suddenly greeted with a flood of commuters weaving through the station. I stowed my bags in a coin locker and went to the tourist information office for directions to Fushimi Inari. A friendly staff member pointed me toward the train, which turned out to be packed with eager foreign tourists (look who’s talking). When I arrived at the base of the mountain, the crowd is thick, as people from all over the world have gathered to experience the hype of the gates.

To be honest, though, that vibe is much warranted. The vibrant vermilion torii gates glow softly under the pale winter sun, their colors striking against the subdued backdrop of bare trees and frost-kissed ground. There’s something about the way the gates seem to stretch endlessly into the mountain, leading those who walk through into the spiritual depth that this place holds.

Kyoto, regarded as the cultural epicenter of Japan, exhibits the same appeal. Once the capital of the country for more than a millennium, it features some of the most significant pieces of art in Japan as well as some of the best cuisine and a rich legacy of old Buddhist temples, great palaces, and gardens of all kinds.

The city reminds many of famous images of Japan: the worn-out wood of a classic machiya townhouse, the sight of a geisha gliding across cobblestone walks, or temple pagodas surrounded by cherry blossom trees. Though the views are lovely, Kyoto’s draw also comes from a deeper source—a city that not only awes with its beauty, but also with its ability to maintain its roots while adapting to the world around it. It may be a cliché in travel circles to say the past and present coexist side by side, but this harmony is especially evident in Kyoto, whether you’re exploring historic temples or sipping a cup of matcha latte in a modern coffee chain.

Such a balance of old and new is beautifully exemplified at Fushimi Inari Taisha, where the iconic vermilion torii gates line a path that has been walked by countless people for centuries. Here, Kyoto’s timeless appeal meets the pace of modern life, making the city’s ability to honor its past while embracing the future even more palpable.

And it’s why, on a chilly January Sunday, I’m sharing this space with hundreds of people, Japanese and non-Japanese alike.

The torii gate, to the Japanese, marks the journey from this world into the next, enabling one to escape the ordinary and enter a holy realm. Thus, crossing these gates can be understood as a call to reach above daily concerns and access inner and spiritual knowledge. The opening of every gate represents a spiritual cleaning process repeated multiple times. One’s own road of overcoming challenges and finding enlightenment can be better observed the further one passes through these gates, which stand in for the road of self-discovery and a concrete illustration of the need of being patient, tenacious, and self-aware on the road to enlightenment.

Much as I like to reflect further, other places in Kyoto are calling; thus, after a few minutes, I descend the mountain, return to the Kyoto Station, and ride a train to Arashiyama.

Arashiyama Bamboo Grove: Strolling through an Ethereal Forest

The Arashiyama Bamboo Grove’s towering stalks create an ethereal tunnel of green.

The landscape gently rises as it gets deeper into the grove, eventually leading to surrounding hills and mountains.

From Arashiyama Station, it’s a short walk to the entrance of the famed bamboo grove, where a steady stream of visitors bustle along the winding paths. Despite the crowd, the grove manages to retain its ethereal quality. A verdant cathedral is formed above by the swinging tips of tall, pillar-like stalks of bamboo. As the sunlight softly filters through the canopy, dappling the road with changing patterns of light and shadow, nature itself strives to produce a calm tone among the throng.

Among the visitors are a few young women dressed in colorful kimonos. They move gracefully through the grove, stopping now and then to pose for photos. A young couple are also clad in traditional attire, walking hand in hand, their quiet smiles a testament to the romance of the place.

Halfway through my stroll, my feet begin to protest the kilometers I’ve walked over the past two days. Reluctantly, I turn back toward the entrance, where benches near the edge of the grove give me a chance to rest. The bus stop is directly in front of stores selling quick bites and souvenirs, so a crowd mills around. But the grove retains its dichotomy: it is both a busy tourist spot and a quiet place to relax. Maybe that’s the point: we can find peace in the middle of all the chaos in our lives if we just take the time to feel it.

The bus finally comes, saving me from more self-reflection and the urge to buy ichigo ame, those kawaii sticks of candied strawberries, from one of the stalls. Moments later, I’m winding my way through the narrow streets of northern Kyoto to get to the famous Kinkaku-ji.

Kinkaku-ji: Zen Reflections and Matcha Ice Cream

Kinkaku-ji, with its gilded pavilion mirrored in the surrounding pond, is a testament to the harmonious blend of human craftsmanship and nature.

The Fudo-do Temple serves as a sanctuary inside the Kinkaku-ji compound where visitors can reflect and worship.

I see the temple in all its glory when I get there—a bright sight of gold in the middle of a calm pond. The Kinkaku-ji, which is officially called Rokuon-ji, was built in the late 1400s as a house for shogun Ashikaga Yoshimitsu to retire to. After he died, it was turned into a Zen temple that represents both material wealth and spiritual depth. Each level of the pavilion has a different architectural style to represent the strength of the samurai, the grace of the aristocrat, and the simplicity of Zen. The exterior of the two topmost levels is made of gold, which shines in the sun and represents the impermanence of wealth and how it tells us of a deeper truth.

Kinkaku-ji’s beauty lies not only in its golden facade, but also in what surround it—its resplendent reflection that make it appear as if the temple is floating on water, and the meticulously designed gardens that adhere to the concepts of Zen. Maybe the temple is telling us that beauty is more than what we look for aesthetically. Maybe it’s also the awareness of the world’s transience and interconnectedness. Whatever it’s telling, it’s the perfect backdrop to ultimately yield to temptation and indulge in a cone of matcha ice cream. Hey, the thick, earthy flavor goes wonderfully with the Kyoto-ness of the moment.

Satisfied with the day’s fill of culture and history, I make my way back to Kyoto Station. The brief quiet moments I cherished earlier are altogether absent here, as a throng of commuters and travelers converge in the modern premises of the station. I retrieve my luggage from the storage area, navigate the station’s organized chaos, and walk to my hotel to rest and prepare for Day Two.

Kiyomizu-dera and Southern Higashiyama: Beating the Kyoto Crowds with an Early Jaunt

Perched gracefully on wooden platforms, Kiyomizu-dera provides sweeping views of the surrounding forested hills and Kyoto’s skyline.

Kiyomizu-dera is surrounded by a peaceful landscape that gives the temple a strong connection to the enduring beauty of nature.

The Otowanotaki Falls is divided into three separate streams, with each stream believed to have a different effect– success, love, and longevity–to those who drink from it.

Sannenzaka winds its way downhill through narrow, cobbled streets lined with traditional shops and quaint tea houses.

Ninenzaka, located just north of Sannenzaka, is another enchanting and historically rich street that draws visitors into Kyoto’s past.

One of Kyoto’s lesser-known shrines, the Yasaka Shrine is nevertheless a deeply spiritual spot that often goes unnoticed amidst the city’s more famous landmarks.

At around 6 the next morning, with the winter air near-freezing, I catch the first bus out of Kyoto Station so that I can beat the throng at Kiyomizu-dera. As I make my way up the winding roads that lead to the temple, I can barely make out the faintest hint of dawn as the sky lightens up a bit.

The old wooden platform that sticks out from the side of a hill and the huge pillars that hold up the frame make the temple look like it’s hovering above the forest that surrounds it. There are beautiful carvings on the stone walls, while the stone walls are adorned with delicate sculptures.

Leaves and grass hold on to the last remnants of autumn. Somber brown and gold tones now cover the scene, replacing the once vivid red and orange foliage. A soft rain creates a delicate mist that covers everything in its path. This, together with the cold, lends the temple’s antique wooden constructions an eerie and melancholy look. Walking the temple grounds in this gloomy temperature, I feel as though Kyoto’s mythology is peeping through.

From Kiyomizu-dera, I backtrack to the path I took earlier, but just before coming to the main highway, I veer north onto a narrow staircase to Sannenzaka, a tourist-heavy pedestrian path in Kyoto’s Higashiyama area. Small traditional shops line the narrow street, selling handmade crafts, warm tea, and local sweets. In the early hours of the day, the atmosphere feels peaceful, almost timeless, as if untouched by the modern world, and belying the fact that it’s regularly swarmed by crowds of tourists.

A bit further north is Ninenzaka, another classic spot that essentially acts as an extension of Sannenzaka. Along its route are many typical machiya cottages, as well as delightful cafes and artisan shops. In this classic setting, I find a Starbucks cafe housed in a building that looks like a typical merchant’s home. Kyoto is always changing, with its rich history constantly being contrasted with modern influences; the existence of a global corporation here shows this.

How can tradition and modernity coexist harmoniously without sacrificing their essential qualities, given the inevitable collision of historic structures and modern consumer culture? It’s a question with no easy answer, I admit, and one I’m not equipped to.

From Ninenzaka, I return to the main road. I make my way toward Yasaka Shrine, which today is busy with the faithful praying, most of them in the main building. The rain is still falling softly, but a few people are kneeling in front of the small shrines outside, their heads bowed in quiet prayer. Others approach the wooden structures, bowing respectfully before stepping back and clapping their hands together—a gesture meant to invite the spirits to join them in their wishes.

Back on the main road, I find a quiet bench in front of a grocery store to rest my feet. On paper, Kyoto looks like pretty walkable, but distances between sights, especially outside the Southern Higashiyama area, can be much farther in reality, especially in a rainy morning with near-freezing temperature. I munch on another nigiri I bought from a nearby konbini. Simple yet satisfying—just what I need to recharge before continuing my exploration.

Downtown Kyoto: Nijo Castle’s Legacy and Nishiki Market’s Lively Scene

The Nijo Castle’s intricate woodwork and elaborate paintings on its doors tell stories of Kyoto’s feudal era.

Nijo Castle’s appeal lies not only in its grand architecture but also in the reflective moments its expansive gardens provide.

The castle’s grand exterior, with its imposing walls and moat, speaks of the power and authority once held by the shoguns.

Nishiki Market has everything from Kyoto’s famous pickles and matcha treats to handmade utensils and fresh seafood.

From here, I board a bus to Nijo Castle, a massive monument that feels like a window into Kyoto’s feudal past. The castle’s majestic walls and picturesque gardens reveal silent stories of power and history. The rain, which had been a light drizzle earlier, intensifies as I go around the castle grounds. The steady downpour gives the gardens a kind of forlorn vibe, the greenery caught between the vivid colors of autumn and dreariness of winter. It nevertheless creates an almost ethereal ambiance. I wasn’t able to purchase a ticket for the castle itself, so as the rain begins to gain strength, I take refuge in the rest area at the edge of the castle grounds.

Later, I make my way to Nishiki Market, which has laneways lined with stalls selling fresh seafood, sweet treats, and various cuisines ranging from light snacks to big dinners. The air is alive with the sounds of haggling, the smell of cooked food, and the laughter of both locals and tourists.

Pontocho and Gion District: Tradition Meets Modern Challenges

Lined with traditional wooden machiya houses, teahouses, and small eateries, the famed Pontocho alley exudes an air of intimacy and refinement.

The Kamo River winds gracefully through Kyoto, acting as a central artery that connects different parts of the city.

After lunch at a fast food restaurant (gasp, eating at a fast food restaurant in Kyoto! I know, I apologize, but I urgently need a place to sit down with the increasingly strong downpour), I continue my exploration by strolling through Pontocho and Gion, the heart of Kyoto’s traditional nightlife. Narrow lanes, lit lanterns, and the sound of rushing water create a timeless atmosphere. I don’t see any geishas in Gion, which is okay. The district’s allure stems from its ability to feel both calm and lively, and I’m bound to see a maiko at least before the day is up.

In Gion, though, I see a sign prohibiting visitors from photographing the surroundings. There are also police presence, perhaps to implement this new rule. This comes following complaints about tourists who disrupt the area, often intruding on residents’ privacy in their quest for the perfect shot. It’s a clear reminder of the growing contradiction between the demands of overtourism and attempts to protect tradition. Kyoto’s fragile mix between modernism and legacy is obviously under constant examination; behind Kyoto’s magnificent temples and lanes is a quiet struggle to retain the city’s soul from the demands of modern visitors.

I suppose it’s because I’m about to enter a new decade and the YOLO days are behind me, but I’ve come to believe that life—and especially travel—demand serious thought and respect. Kyoto reminds me of our responsibility to tread lightly on the places we visit. An essential part of traveling is being a considerate guest and not destroying the magic that draws us to a destination, just as much as seeing the sights.

I’m not without fault here either. With its timeless charm and layered beauty, it’s easy to get excited here. But Kyoto is like a finely prepared cup of matcha—meant to be savored in its fullness. In my desire to see as much as I can today, I raced through the city, and my sore feet are a quiet protest against my eagerness. Instead of pausing to enjoy Kyoto’s quiet corners or absorb its layered history as I had on my first day, I found myself rushing, missing the subtle magic that sets each place apart. Perhaps this is what Kyoto teaches: to walk deliberately, to slow down, and to embrace the moment. Like matcha, its essence reveals itself only when given the time it deserves.

Anyway, the day winds down, and at 5:30 p.m., I have a tea ceremony booked somewhere close to Kiyomizu-dera. I weave my way around the area until I find myself on a quiet street, where a small wooden house waits, its understated beauty blending perfectly with the city’s timeless alleys.

Kyoto Travel Basics

Timing

Kyoto is at stunning in spring (March–April) when cherry blossoms bloom, particularly at Maruyama Park and the Philosopher’s Path.
Autumn (October–November) is equally beautiful, with red and gold foliage at temples like Kiyomizu-dera and Tofuku-ji.
Summer (June–August) brings Gion Matsuri, Kyoto’s most famous festival, but can be very hot.
Winter (December–February) is peaceful, with relatively fewer crowds (keyword: relatively) and occasional snowfall adding charm to temples and shrines.
No matter when you visit, Kyoto’s rich history and traditional culture make it a must-visit, especially if it’s your first time in Japan.

Access

From Osaka: Take the JR Special Rapid Service from Osaka Station to Kyoto Station. One-way fare costs JPY 1,870 and takes around 30 minutes.
From Tokyo: Take the Hokuriku Shinkansen from Tokyo Station to Kyoto Station. One-way fare costs JPY 14,170 and takes about 2 hours and 30 minutes.

Transportation

Kyoto’s Public Transportation: The city has an efficient public transport system, including buses and trains. The Kyoto City Bus is the most convenient for tourists, covering most major attractions. A one-day bus pass costs JPY 600, while single rides are JPY 230.
Kyoto Subway: The subway system has two lines: the Karasuma Line and the Tozai Line. Single fares range from JPY 210 to JPY 350, depending on the distance.
Kyoto City Bus & Subway One-Day Pass: For unlimited travel on buses and subways within Kyoto, the pass costs JPY 1,000 per day.

Accommodation

Wise Owl Hostels Kyoto provides a budget-friendly option with a relaxed atmosphere, located near Kyoto Station. JPY 3,000 per night for a bed in a mixed dormitory, with private rooms from JPY 6,000 to 8,000 per night.
Hotel Gracery Kyoto Sanjo is a well-located hotel offering comfortable rooms and modern amenities. Approximately JPY 12,000 to 20,000 per night, depending on room type and season.
The Ritz-Carlton Kyoto stands as a luxurious, 5-star hotel offering exceptional service and beautiful views of the Kamo River and the Higashiyama mountains. From JPY 80,000 per night, higher for suites or peak seasons.

Food

Known as “Kyoto’s Kitchen,” the bustling Nishiki Market is a great place for sampling local specialties like yuba (tofu skin), matcha sweets, and fresh seafood skewers.
An essential stop for udon lovers, Omen Ginkakuji Honten serves handcrafted noodles with flavorful dipping sauces, offering a true taste of Kyoto’s refined cuisine.
Hyotei is one of Kyoto’s most historic kaiseki establishments. Dating back over 400 years, this restaurant is known for its elegant multi-course meals and serene ambiance.

For more practical information, visit the Kyoto City Official Travel Guide website.

The Tourist Gaze