Japan -- A Ryokan Experience May 20, 2003
the shimmering haze
above
the wet stone
Haiku by Basho
(1690)
Staying at a ry-o-kan, or Japanese inn is a unique way to experience the feeling of "old" Japan. Ryokans were once a stopping place for Samurai warriors, so the esthetics are those of old Japan's ruling class, heralding back to a gracious, timeless way of life.
Hiiragiya in central Kyoto with
its turn-of-the-century
charm is arguably the most famous ryokan in Japan; since 1861 six generations of
inn-keepers have
catered to the affluent
traveler here. This historic inn with its simple clay exterior walls sits
in a narrow busy street, just a couple of blocks from the bustle and noise of a
large central Kyoto shopping area. Yet it's a world away.
Enter Hiiragiya and the outside world calmly dissipates in the covered courtyard entryway. The burning incense and the shiny, water-splashed stone floor provide a traditional welcome, saying all is ready for your arrival. The small, well-tended plants in the vestibule make it obvious you are transitioning to a different place, perhaps even a different time.
After the welcome greeting and
bows, it's time to remove
our shoes and slide into 
the
leather slippers used in the lobby and hallways. The inn has several
wings (the brochure says 33 rooms) connected by long narrow winding halls and we
wend our way down one narrow hallway to our room. Here everything is
simple, yet elegant: customary fine white paper walls are set into wooden panels,
a painted screen and traditional decorative alcove
with a Japanese flower arrangement are the room's ornaments, and the floor is
made up of tightly fitted tatami mats. (Actually, the room's price partly depends on the
number
of tatamis. These are a standard size, defining the room's size.)
We've come to Hiiragiya with our friends, Steve and Anne and their 5-year old daughter Margo. They're expatriates living in Tokyo and have thoughtfully arranged this adventure for us. They remind us to take off our hallway slippers in the outer vestibule of our room; it's socks only (no bare feet, no slippers) on the closely woven tatamis.
Looking around, we see our indoor veranda. It has sliding paper-covered doors to close it off, a low table with two low chairs, and a small peaceful private garden just outside. The room itself contains little more than a low, decorative red table in the center with some cushions around it. This is really understated, simplicity itself. Almost immediately our maid (who will be mothering us and serving our meals) arrives for the tea service. Dressed in a simple kimono, she sets places for us all at the low table and serves us a frothy bright green tea, followed by a more recognizable tea and cookies.
After tea, our friends head for their room. We'll have dinner in our room tonight. But now it's time to wind down and check out the bathroom. There is another set of slippers in the (separate) toilet. We've been forewarned: the slippers used (or the lack thereof) in any room depend on the level of cleanliness of the floor -- separate slippers for the toilet, for the hallway and vestibule, and (presumably clean) socks for the guest rooms themselves.
The inn has a choice of toilets, Japanese style (squat over) or western style. Ours was western style with a heated seat and warm-water spritz for cleaning body parts! My friend Bruce actually bought one of these toilets after visiting Japan, so we were only partly amazed at the available options, though I think a warm toilet seat would be a constant pleasure. (To read Bruce's amusing tale about buying one of these wonderful toilets, click here.) Apparently Hiiragaya has chosen to combine tradition with some modern comforts; there was also a small TV in our room, although it was demurely draped with a cloth, as was the mirror in the veranda (this was for good luck).
Following a day of travel, business
or adventure, the perfect thing to do after tea is soak in your private o-furo bath (a
hot tub made of smooth
cedar) or schedule a half hour in one of the inn's larger family o-furos. So before
dinner we soaked away the tension of the day's travel to Kyoto on
the
bullet train and our city wanderings. However, unlike American baths, in
Japan you wash
away the grime before entering the (very hot) o-furo. To do this,
you sit on a small wooden stool and use a small towel, a
hand-crafted wooden bucket, and a shower hose. Only when you're thoroughly clean and
scrubbed do 
you enter the smooth wooden tub, which is
deep enough to sit in up
to your neck. (It was quite a bit hotter than I could stand, so I had to
add some cold water to the bath.) The water was crystal clear (and should be that way when you're
done), as others will use the tub after you.
For dinner, we all changed into the comfortable, crisply ironed cotton robes (yukata) and short silk jackets provided, though we weren't sure exactly what to do with these garments and their belts. There was even a robe for Margo. When our maid came to set the table for dinner, she helped us put ourselves right.
Breakfast and dinner, which are
served in your room, are included in the (very pricey) nightly rate at Hiiragiya.
We had
ordered a traditional Keiseki meal. It was an incredible array of
beautifully presented dishes (mostly fish), brought out in 13 (!) courses, 3-4
different items per course. Lots of things to try, some of which I even
liked! On our
second night our friend, Yoko, who we hadn't seen in 
25 years, joined us for dinner.
(This night's Keiseki meal was totally different from the first nights,
but I
switched to meat -- tender beef sukiyaki, cooked right in front of me.)
As
there were six of us, and the oldest room in the inn,
with perhaps the finest garden, was not occupied that night, the inn suggested we
have dinner there. It was a large, lovely room -- a real treat!
For sleeping, the low table in our room was removed and futon beds, i.e., two mattresses with down quilts were set on the floor. Actually, quite comfortable. It's necessary to fix a wake-up time for the next morning. The maid needs to know when to come in, unmake the bed and set the table for breakfast. This is done while you bathe or wash up or read the paper in the closed off veranda. Naturally, we ordered an American breakfast, which was good except for the cold eggs, apparently served cold on purpose!
After two nights at Hiiragiya, our budget dictated a return to Tokyo. But as we left, we were again treated like royalty. Five people waited with us until our taxi arrived: the current owner's wife, his mother, the desk clerk, our maid and another inn employee! So many bows, such a gracious send-off.
Hiiragiya is a unique bit of Japanese culture and history. Our short time in this fine ryokan was an unforgettable experience; one we'll recall for years to come.
To be in a world
eating white rice
(this line refers to a time of peace, no wars)
amid plum fragrance.
(plum blossoms mean it's early
spring)
Chiyo-ni,
a famous Japanese woman haiku writer,
1750