Kinkaku-ji, the Golden Pavilion

Kinkaku-ji is the postcard that sells Kyoto: a pavilion sheathed in gold leaf, perfectly reflected in the still water of the Kyokochi, the "Mirror Pond", with pine-clad islands, rocks and the hills of northern Kyoto behind it. Its official name is Rokuon-ji, and it is a Zen temple of the Shokoku-ji branch of Rinzai Buddhism, but it began as something grander and more worldly. In the late fourteenth century the retired shogun Ashikaga Yoshimitsu built a lavish estate here, and the Golden Pavilion was its jewel; after his death in 1408 it was converted into a Zen temple according to his wishes. Each of the pavilion's three floors is built in a different architectural style — the palace style of the aristocracy on the ground floor, the samurai style on the second and a Zen hall on the top — with the upper two covered in gold leaf and the roof crowned by a bronze phoenix. The building you see is not the original. In 1950 a young monk set fire to the pavilion, an event Yukio Mishima turned into the novel The Temple of the Golden Pavilion, and it was rebuilt in 1955 to the original design; later restorations have renewed the gold with thicker leaf, so it gleams more brightly than it may ever have done. The pavilion cannot be entered and now serves as a reliquary; visitors see it from across the pond and then follow a set path through the strolling garden. It is part of the UNESCO-listed Historic Monuments of Ancient Kyoto, open every day of the year from 9am to 5pm, and the admission fee is small.

A visit follows a fixed one-way route, and that shapes how it feels. You enter through the gate, buy your ticket — which is printed as a paper talisman you can keep — and within a couple of minutes arrive at the classic viewing spot across the pond. This is where everyone stops for the photograph, and on busy days it is several people deep; be patient, the front row turns over quickly. The path then circles the pond past the pavilion, climbs gently through the moss garden past the Anmintaku pond and the Sekkatei teahouse, built for tea ceremony in the Edo period, and ends at a small hall with incense, fortunes and a tea garden where you can sit with matcha and a sweet. Altogether it takes forty-five minutes to an hour, which makes Kinkaku-ji a quick visit by Kyoto standards.

Timing and light matter more here than at almost any other temple. The pavilion faces south across the pond, so it looks best in sunshine, when the gold glows and the reflection is crisp; a still, clear morning is ideal, and a blue winter sky is spectacular. The rare days after snowfall, when the roofs are frosted white above the gold, are the most coveted photographs in Kyoto, and locals rush here at opening when snow has fallen. The temple is busiest from mid-morning onward, especially with tour buses, so arrive at 9am opening or in the last hour before closing. Note the hours: unlike Fushimi Inari, the gates close at 5pm, and there is no night viewing.

Kinkaku-ji sits in the northwest of the city, well away from the station, so it makes sense to combine it with its neighbors. Ryoan-ji, with Japan's most famous dry rock garden of fifteen stones in raked gravel, is about twenty minutes' walk away along the Kinukake-no-michi road, and Ninna-ji, with its five-story pagoda and late-blooming cherries, is a little beyond; together they make an excellent half-day temple circuit. Buses from Kyoto Station take a long time and are often crowded; a taxi from the nearest subway station, Kitaoji, or a bus from there, is usually faster. Pair the morning with an afternoon in Arashiyama, a short taxi or Randen tram ride to the west, for a full day in western Kyoto.