9 August
Matsuyama to Kyoto
Our 2.00am bedtime
gave us difficulty in responding to our 7.30am alarm call. But a taxi delivered us to the Matsuyama
ferry terminal in what we thought was plenty of time to catch the 9.45. We went up to the restaurant and ordered 3 rounds of toast, 2 coffees and an orange
juice (cost was 2147 Yen!! – around £12.50!!). It took a while to arrive and eventually
resulted in us sprinting to the ferry, with Val clutching her half-eaten toast
to eat on board.
We snoozed our way
back to Hiroshima and caught the tram/train to Hiroshima station. We boarded the Shinkansen and snoozed our way
to Kyoto. Our hotel – the Ryokan Kyoka - was a 10 minute walk away
from Kyoto station (or 20 minutes if you’re dragging heavy luggage!) and
we registered and settled ourselves in.
Our room was a fairly large tatami-ed room. An ante-room with table was adjacent, and at
the other end of the room was a separate washbasin next to our private Shinto
water-feature illuminated in tasteful blue fluorescent lighting. There was another, larger, green-lit example
opposite the toilets, complete with Koi, visible through a section of glassy
floor. Its minimalist harmony was slightly
marred by the inclusion of a communal washing machine and tumble dryer, which,
however, came in very useful.
Washed and brushed
up, we set off for the Gion quarter – old, traditional Kyoto. Stephen had purchased tickets for a show of
traditional Japanese culture and arts held twice nightly in the Gion
theatre. We took a taxi to the Gion
quarter and rubbernecked a bit as we made our way – a little early - to
the theatre. The theatre is situated off
and among some very picturesque traditional-looking Japanese streets. There are a number of restaurants and small
ryokan and minshuku in the area.
We entered the
modern theatre, admiring en route some varieties of different styles of ikebana,
or flower arranging, displayed in the entrance corridor.
Here’s a tip for anyone who goes to
this worthwhile show: if you want to video or photograph the proceedings, go to
the back of the theatre, where there is ample space to work without getting in
anyone’s way or being obstructed by similar giant gaijin tourists like
yourself. Of course, you need a zoom
lens! It was interesting to see that
there was a coach party of Japanese tourists in as well as some westerners.
We saw a number of
different traditional Japanese arts.
There
was a lightning demonstration of a tea ceremony inflicted on a couple of
American (what else?) volunteers from a coach party that arrived, noisily, just
before the start.
There
was some ancient Court music, played by an orchestra of plucked instruments and
percussion with a male singer. The
singing was clearly musical (at least if you have a musical ear) yet resembled
the sounds of a constipated donkey.
There was a dancer, attired in a gorgeous, symbolic lion-like costume,
who moved from pose to stylised pose in time to the music.
It was quite hypnotic,
but I don’t know how it would go down in the Wheeltappers’ and
Shunters’ Working Men’s Club, Heckmondwyke. I could have watched for longer, but perhaps
ten minutes was for the best.
A
matronly lady in full kimono and wig bent some twigs and inserted them into a
vase. The end result was elegant and
somehow meaningful. How you can bend a
twig and end up with that sort of result, I don’t know, but it seemed to
fit with what I slowly have come to understand as the Zen idea of minimalist
beauty. Val preferred other styles of ikebana,
but who am I to pass judgement? I am
notorious for not being able to differentiate between a marigold and a
dandelion (all part of God’s beautiful creation, say I), so
distinguishing preferences between schools of ikebana is way out of my league.
Two
younger women played a duet on two koto, or harps. These are more like a giant oblong-ish guitar
with a number of strings stretched over a bridge, and a finger-board for one
hand, while the other plucks the strings.
I found the music delightful, in a mournful, minimalist (that word
again!) way.
A traditional
orchestra played to accompany two geisha dancers.
Another
two women played the samisen, another instrument rather more like a
plangent non-resonant guitar (or maybe a slightly-resonant banjo, who can
say?). Again, restful and minimalist music
here.
Three actors played out a traditional Kyogen
farce. Fortunately, the slightly complex
story (naturally performed in Japanese) was written up in the programme, so the
physical goings-on (all to do with servants scheming to get at the
master’s sake) were genuinely funny, and we laughed a good
deal. Japanese people in the audience
seemed to laugh at the same time as us, so I am fairly sure we got it. The American coach party didn’t laugh,
though, either because
(a) they had not bothered to read the synopsis;
(b) they feared making some kind of social gaffe; or
(c) because they had no sense of humour.
Delete
two of the above. (Clue: they were Americans.) Apparently this sort of short farce is played
during intervals of the lengthy, stylised, serious kabuki plays.
There
was a Bunraku puppet performance.
Three puppeteers (the chief having his head uncovered – which detracted
from the performance somewhat – while his two assistants were complete
blacked out by cloth coverings) manipulated a puppet in a traditional, narrated
story. The skill of the puppeteers was
very high indeed. When the puppet walked
up a ladder, it looked as if she were indeed climbing. Every movement was detail-perfect.
We left the theatre
with at least an initial appreciation of some aspects of Japanese culture. Fascinating, and unusual – at least for
us gaijin!
We walked along to
the river, past secluded restaurants where expensive chauffeured limousines
occasionally revealed a geisha on the way to her client. As there was a little rain in the air, we
eventually found our way to a restaurant, where we had a shabu-shabu
meal.
We paid for a limitless supply of sliced
vegetables – daikon, cabbage-ish leaves, carrots, enoshi (small
etiolated mushrooms) and other less identifiable vegetables – and thinly
sliced beef, supplied with a metal bowl placed over the built-in gas flame on
the table. This was filled with boiling
stock, and first vegetables and then slices of beef were put into it to simmer
for a few moments before being lifted out, dunked in a sesame seed paste or shoyu
livened with wasabi and eaten. It
is an entirely wonderful and satisfying meal.
Incidentally, the sesame seed paste is self made. They bring a sort of pestle and mortar for
you to grind the seeds. The mortar is
ridged on the inner surface, which helps to crush the seeds.
So ended our first
day in Kyoto. we took a taxi back to our
hotel and crashed out, replete and happy.