Ryoan-ji Temple

Ryoan-ji holds the most celebrated, most debated rock garden in Japan. Behind the abbot's hall lies a flat rectangle of raked white gravel, enclosed on two sides by a low earthen wall stained by age into soft oranges and browns, and on it sit fifteen stones in five groups, ringed with moss. That is all. There are no trees, ponds or hills, and the garden is meant to be contemplated from the wooden veranda rather than walked in. One famous detail: from no position on the veranda can you see all fifteen stones at the same time; one always hides behind another. Nobody knows for certain who designed the garden, when it was made, or what it is supposed to represent, and the interpretations, from tigers crossing a river to islands in a sea, mountain peaks above clouds or a purely abstract composition, are part of its fascination. The temple itself was founded in 1450 by the military lord Hosokawa Katsumoto and belongs to the Myoshin-ji branch of Rinzai Zen. It burned during the Onin War and was rebuilt, and today it is part of the UNESCO-listed Historic Monuments of Ancient Kyoto. Beyond the rock garden, the temple grounds are larger and greener than many visitors expect: the Kyoyochi pond, once home to mandarin ducks, is ringed by woodland paths, cherry trees and maples, and is particularly lovely in autumn. Near the abbot's hall is a famous stone water basin, the tsukubai, carved with characters that read together as a Zen saying about being content with what you have. Admission is a modest fee, and the temple is open daily.

How to see it well. The rock garden's power depends on quiet, and from mid-morning the veranda fills with tour groups. Arrive at opening, take off your shoes, find a spot on the veranda and sit for ten or fifteen minutes. Let your eye move from group to group, notice how the gravel ripples around each stone, and how the wall's weathered surface warms in the light. Then try the old game of counting the stones from different positions. A small model of the garden inside the hall lets you see all fifteen at once, which feels almost like cheating.

Allow time for the grounds. The walk around the Kyoyochi pond is a peaceful counterpoint to the austerity of the rock garden, and in late autumn the maples reflected in the water are among the prettiest in the area. A sub-temple in the grounds is known for yudofu, simmered tofu, a traditional dish of this part of Kyoto, which makes for a gentle lunch on a cold day. Visitors who want to understand Zen gardens properly should pair Ryoan-ji with a pond garden such as Tenryu-ji or a modern dry garden such as the Hojo gardens at Tofuku-ji, to see how the same ideas take very different forms.

Ryoan-ji sits in northwest Kyoto, about twenty minutes' walk or a short bus ride from Kinkaku-ji, along the road known as the Kinukake-no-michi, which continues to Ninna-ji temple. City buses run from central Kyoto and Kyoto Station, and the Randen tram stops at Ryoanji Station, a short walk away. A logical half-day route is Kinkaku-ji at opening, then Ryoan-ji, then Ninna-ji or lunch, before heading back downtown. Allow an hour, longer if you sit and look. In winter, Ryoan-ji is especially rewarding: on the rare mornings after snowfall, the white blanket over gravel and stones turns the garden into something new, and photographers queue for the opening. In every season, remember that this is an active Zen temple; speak softly on the veranda and keep phones on silent.