Jisho-ji, known to most of the world as Ginkaku-ji, the Silver Pavilion, sits at the foot of the Higashiyama hills in the northeast of Kyoto. It began in the 1480s as the retirement villa of the shogun Ashikaga Yoshimasa, a man who lost interest in governing during a period of civil collapse and devoted himself to art, tea and gardens instead. After his death it became a Zen temple. The pavilion was never actually covered in silver, despite the name, and visitors still argue about whether the plan was dropped for lack of money or for taste.
What makes the place special is the garden. There is a raked sand platform and a sand cone shaped like Mount Fuji, a moss garden under maples, and a little pond reflecting the small wooden pavilion. The sense of quiet restraint is what we mean when we talk about the Higashiyama culture: the tea ceremony, flower arranging, ink painting and the idea of beauty in simplicity all developed from this circle. Just outside, the Philosopher's Path follows a canal lined with cherry trees south toward Nanzen-ji, and it is lovely whatever the season.
Kyoto is not a city to ride through for pleasure. Streets are narrow and busy, the grid is confusing, and parking close to temples is awkward, so many riders arrive early, leave the bike in a paid lot and walk. Fuel stations are plentiful in the suburbs, but fewer in the very centre. The wards of Kamigyo and Sakyo, as well as Kyoto itself, supply all the food and coffee you could want, and the area around the temple has tea houses and small shops selling sweets and pickles.
The real riding begins as you leave the city. North towards Kurama and Kibune, the forested lanes climb and twist through cedar, and in the other direction the road to Nara runs through low hills and tea country. In autumn the maples in the hills turn red and gold and the temple grounds are packed; in early morning even then it can be peaceful. Winter brings a thin cold light and the rare dusting of snow on the roofs, which is perhaps the best moment of all.