Day 48 Ginkakuji, Kyoto 2 March 2026 скачать в хорошем качестве

Day 48 Ginkakuji, Kyoto 2 March 2026

Ginkaku‑ji, Moonlit Sand Gardens, Mossy Hillsides, and Strawberry Mochi Humour From Kinkaku‑ji, I returned to the same bus stop and caught another bus toward Ginkaku‑ji, the Silver Pavilion. After a short walk from the stop, I reached a charming street lined with shops and eateries on both sides, the classic Ginkaku‑ji shopping street. It was full of tempting sweets, snacks, and souvenirs, and I couldn’t help wondering how the Japanese stay so slim with all these delights around! A sign advertising Costa Matcha Espresso caught my eye. Out of curiosity, I tried it, not realising it was slightly sweetened and a bit milky. Not quite my cup of tea, but perfectly drinkable, so I finished it. As I continued walking toward the pavilion, I passed a shop selling strawberry mochi, and overheard a woman remark that they looked like “nipples.” They did, and I couldn’t help laughing quietly to myself. Ginkaku‑ji, officially Jishō‑ji, is the elegant counterpart to Kinkaku‑ji. Where the Golden Pavilion dazzles, the Silver Pavilion whispers. It embodies wabi‑sabi, the Japanese aesthetic of simplicity, impermanence, and understated beauty. It was built in 1482 as the retirement villa of Shogun Ashikaga Yoshimasa, grandson of Kinkaku‑ji’s founder. Yoshimasa was a major patron of the arts, and his villa became the centre of Higashiyama Culture, which shaped the tea ceremony, ikebana (flower arranging), Noh theatre, garden design and calligraphy. After Yoshimasa’s death in 1490, the villa was converted into a Zen temple, as he had wished. Despite its name, the pavilion was never covered in silver leaf. Some believe it was planned but never completed due to the financial strain of the Ōnin War; others think the name was simply meant to contrast with Kinkaku‑ji. The true highlight of Ginkaku‑ji is its Zen garden, one of the most distinctive in Japan. Immediately upon entering, I was greeted by the Kōgetsudai, which is a perfectly sculpted cone of white sand, often called the Moon‑Viewing Platform. Next to it, the Ginshadan, a wide expanse of raked white sand known as the Sea of Silver Sand. These features were added in the Edo period and are designed to reflect moonlight, creating a serene, otherworldly glow at night. The two‑storey pavilion itself is a National Treasure. The first floor is built in the elegant Shinden‑zukuri style of aristocratic residences. The second floor reflects Zen temple architecture, with latticed windows and a quiet, contemplative presence. It sits beside a reflective pond, blending seamlessly with the surrounding landscape. I followed the winding path through a lush moss garden, shaded by maples and pines. The path climbed gently up a hillside, offering glimpses of the pavilion below. At the top, I was rewarded with a lovely panoramic view of the Silver Pavilion, the temple grounds and the city of Kyoto stretching into the distance It was peaceful, green, and beautifully composed, a perfect example of how Japanese gardens use borrowed scenery (shakkei) to create depth and harmony. Ginkaku‑ji was a wonderful contrast to the morning’s golden splendour - quieter, more contemplative, and deeply connected to the roots of Japanese aesthetics. It was a real treat to wander through its gardens and take in its subtle beauty.