Sleeping at a Kyoto Japanese Inn (Ryokan)

Activity > Not area specific > Culture

It was past four o'clock when my taxi slowed to a stop in front of the vaunted Tawara-ya of Kyoto, an inn that was known for its long roster of celebrity guests as well as its steep prices. I was tired, cranky, hungry, and heartbroken. In the midst of the chaos of my volatile emotions, I had decided that a day or two of immersing myself in the tranquility fostered by Japanese culture would be just the cure.

A man rushed out of the inn to help me with my luggage as I rummaged through my purse for my fare. When I looked up, he had finished meticulously unloading my suitcases from the cab. Another man stepped out from within the ryokan and welcomed me to Tawara-ya.

I looked around quietly in awe as he led me across the vestibule and helped me out of my sandals and into the slippers that were thoughtfully provided for the guests. My tired feet immediately thanked the staff as they relaxed into the soft leather footwear.

A woman in her early thirties appeared in traditional kimono garb and quietly escorted me to my accommodations. In lilting English, she asked me at what time I would like to partake of my dinner. I was vaguely aware that the inn offered a kaiseki dinner, which consisted mostly of fish. My body, I have since decided, was tired of all the toxins it had imbibed in the course of two weeks since the divorce and I absently said yes to the kaiseki.

To my great surprise, I found my luggage sitting neatly in the corner, awaiting me. I immediately took off my outer clothes, glad that the staff had thought to run the air conditioner prior to my arrival as the Kyoto heat was getting to my nerves.

The same woman who led me to the room reappeared quietly with a hot towel and a cup of hot tea. I thanked her for the items and she bowed before disappearing soundlessly once more, shutting the shoji door behind her.

The tea was slightly bitter and I took it in a few sips to avoid scalding my tongue. The aroma was quite calm and relaxing. I opened the screen to the garden and sat down in my half-opened shirt and socks, staring out into the greenery. My life had become a roller coaster of sorts in the past few weeks what with the conclusion of the divorce proceedings and everything. I took another sip of the tea and closed my eyes. There would be healing, I was sure of it, in time.

I turned to the small bathing chamber installed in my room and shrugged off the rest of my clothing on the floor beside the door. The steaming hot water soon took my worries away and I found myself sagging thoughtlessly into the tub.

At precisely seven o'clock, the heya gakari brought me my dinner and the food was exquisite. I was not a big fan of Japanese food, usually subsisting on fast food and burgers. I have never thought to eat so much fish in my life but I did and enjoyed myself while I was at it.

After dinner, I wandered down to the library and surveyed its collection of books. In my younger years, I had been quite the bookworm but work soon overtook that pastime and I had not opened a single book that was not related to work in the last three years. As I sat poring over a few pages, a man brought me some tea and left without a word.

When I returned to my rooms, I found that the low table I had dinner on was moved away slightly and in its place, was a futon covered in sheets, a glass of water on a tray, a reading lamp, and a clock.

The first night I spent at the Tawara-ya gave me the most peaceful dreamless sleep I have had in months. It was as if the turmoil of the outside world had disappeared within its sanctum. As I closed my eyes in blissful slumber, I briefly thought about making this a regular annual retreat. Even if a night in this ryokan was expensive, it did its wonders on my weary psyche and allowed me to breathe and find a little peace within myself.