A Fall Trip to Arashiyama, Kyoto

I am not wont to visit overly populated and popular cities. I can’t shake off the feeling that I am doing something wrong when visiting such places. One might think that since we live in a global world, there can’t be anything wrong with traveling to famous places. But my trips there often result in guilt and regret—as if I did a disservice to the world or caused suffering to it. I felt this way when I visited Barcelona and Florence a decade ago, so the feeling is perpetual. 

Besides, some renowned places rub me off the wrong way—such as Kyoto. I am not a big fan of Kyoto City, even after having visited it many times. It is funny because going to Kyoto was my childhood dream. Like many foreigners, I felt gravitated toward Kyoto and found myself wanting to visit it one day. Now I think Kyoto is like the spoiled son of Japan; everyone showers him with compliments and gifts while the neglected daughters watch him from afar, waiting for the day people will deign to acknowledge them. 

I know I sound fretful, so you may wonder what kind of demon woke me up at 5 a.m. and sent me to Arashiyama on November 10. I simply wondered what Arashiyama, a district in the west of Kyoto, looked like after Japan reopened its borders last month. Well, people picked up fast where they left off, and started living as if the pandemic had never happened. In other news, the water is wet.

It took me a couple of hours to adjust to the crowds, and the voice in my head that could set off in trepidation any time quieted down. When it was over, I found myself engrossed in my surroundings and watched my reluctance slowly turn into enthusiasm, which gave birth to this post. 

Strolling along the Katsura River

When I got off the train (Hankyu Arashiyama Line), I knew where I was headed—to the nearest coffee shop. I had drunk two cups of coffee in Kobe, but the caffeine wasn’t kicking in. If you visit Arashiyama, you can’t miss %Arabica since it is right next to the Katsura River. I had heard of the famous %Arabica Arashiyama store, but nobody told me about the line in front of it. The wait was painless, though, thanks to the staff’s efficiency.

I sat on the wall that separated the river and the main street and watched the mountains glowing with the fall colors. I had been to Arashiyama during the pandemic, which was depressing because there were few people along the Katsura River. It seemed that, as if to overcompensate for the lack of people for two years, Arashiyama hosted as many people as it could this time. 

Since the weather was pleasant, I decided to stroll along the river and quickly regretted wearing a wool sweater. I need to learn the intricacies of traveling during fall! I didn’t row a boat on the river, but watching some people doing it, and enjoying themselves, put a smile on my face. Arashiyama came alive with each moment of laughter it received from people. So did I.

Arashiyama Bamboo Grove

The bamboo in Arashiyama are some of the most photographed subjects in Japan. I get it. I love bamboo trees, regardless of their plain look. There is a lot to learn from bamboo, and Arashiyama Bamboo Grove is a great place to contemplate how to be like bamboo. They grow slowly with adequate care, just like our habits. They are flexible but can’t be bent easily. 

Thanks to the bamboo trees, you feel cool even in the hottest weather. While walking in the shadows, you forget for a moment what is happening in the outside world. Interestingly, you don’t hear the hustle and bustle of Arashiyama, despite its vicinity to the grove. And people look tiny under the tall bamboo, giving the place an otherworldly aura. 

I remembered the famous “The Tale of the Princess Kaguya” during my walk among the bamboo. It’s a great story about a farmer and his wife finding a miniature girl inside a bamboo stalk, and raising her as their daughter. Arashiyama Bamboo Grove leaves room for imagination for people of all ages.

Arashiyama Monkey Park Iwatayama

I concluded my journey at the summit of Arashiyama Monkey Park. I had never been there before, so it seemed only right to visit this time. I started at the bottom of Mt. Iwata and hiked for 20 minutes to reach the top. The hike was easy, and there were benches on the path. The monkeys started appearing before the summit, swinging in the trees. 

Snow monkeys, aka Japanese macaque, are wild, so people shouldn’t touch or go near them. Visitors are allowed to feed them inside what seems to be a “human cage.” You can also view Arashiyama from the top, and take photos of monkeys that freely traverse the building and summit. Interacting with monkeys and observing them was an intriguing experience. Children around me had a blast feeding and watching them. 

While feeding the monkeys pieces of fresh melon, I remembered how my mother felt about the creatures. She doesn’t like them because she thinks they behave like people. I know it’s their world, but I was sad to see adult monkeys snatching baby monkeys’ food. I had a similar experience once in Sayo, Hyogo. The monkeys can be aggressive and unpredictable. They really aren’t pet material!

Overall, the journey was peaceful and memorable. I enjoyed snapping some photos and taking my time to let my experiences sink in. Arashiyama also made me realize that the places we visit, whether popular or not, are as meaningful as what they make us feel. The next time I go sightseeing, I will ask myself what this place might contribute to my life—not how popular it is.

What about you? Do you like popular places? How do you feel when you visit them?