I hadn’t expected a short trip to Kyoto to linger with me the way it did. At the time, it felt like nothing more than a momentary escape from university life — only later did I come to realize just how significantly it had reshaped the way I perceived Japan, making me much more aware of the deep and layered history embedded in its cities.
Chapter 1: Finding My Bearings
My first year as an engineering student here at Science Tokyo had me navigating through uncharted waters — waters that were at times sweet, almost delectable, as I settled into Japanese residential life, though I also faced a fair share of moments that made me feel on the verge of sinking. Basically, it was your average first-year engineering experience.
Around the end of my fourth quarter, with looming exams, my friends and I decided that we had had enough of Tokyo. A two-month-long Spring break was ahead of us, our first in Japan, and we couldn’t really let it go to waste. As such, we began cooking up a whole itinerary — a group trip to the cultural haven that is Kyoto.
Chapter 2: A Light Read at 300 Kilometers per Hour
A couple of weeks later, I found myself cushioned against a comfy Shinkansen (bullet train) recliner, as I read with great curiosity about the timeline of Japanese history. How, I wondered, did Kyoto turn into Japan’s longest-running capital?
Now, I already had a rough sense of things up until around 710 CE, particularly the Jomon, Yayoi, and Kofun periods (credit to Associate Professor Loftus, my archaeology professor here at Science Tokyo. I genuinely loved his classes). These were the eras that incorporated Japan’s first hunter-gatherers, agricultural practices, and early centralization of power. The kofun, which were these massive burial mounds scattered across Japan, also offered fascinating clues about the country’s earliest rulers.
Initially, it turns out, the passing of an emperor often prompted a relocation of capitals, a practice tied to early Shinto beliefs surrounding death and spiritual impurity. By the Asuka period (538-710 CE), however, this pattern began to shift. With Buddhism entering Japan from Korea and China, the political landscape grew more complex, and the need for a stable, centralized state was becoming increasingly apparent. This eventually culminated in Empress Genmei relocating the imperial court to Heijō-kyō (present-day Nara), a city modeled after Chinese grid patterns.
The Nara and Heian periods (710-1185) were characterized by the establishment of legal and administrative systems, and of course, political tension to boot. In an effort to curb the influence of emerging Buddhist institutions and reassert imperial authority, the capital was moved from Heijō-kyō to Nagaoka-kyō in 784, and later to Heian-kyo (modern-day Kyoto) in 794, where it would remain for over a millennium.
By this point in my research, I could hear the train announcement ringing: “We will soon make a brief stop at Kyoto. Passengers going to the Tokaido, Sanin, Kosei, Nara, Kintetsu and subway lines, please change trains here at Kyoto. We will depart shortly after arriving at Kyoto, so please be ready to get off before the train stops. Thank you.”
Chapter 3: A City That Wears Its History
Stepping into Kyoto feels like stepping into a different timeline altogether. The city’s jam-packed with shrines, temples, and old wooden houses that stand strong amid modern life. Call it a cradle of culture, one that boasts 17 UNESCO World Heritage Sites. One moment you’re walking past a centuries-old pagoda, and then you suddenly turn a corner and pass through a cascade of vending machines or a Nintendo store — it’s this striking juxtaposition of old and new that, in my opinion, makes Kyoto so distinct and special.
We visited all of the notable tourist spots and then some — Kiyomizu-dera (lit. Pure Water Monastery), Kinkaku-ji (the Temple of the Golden Pavilion), Ginkaku-ji (the Temple of the Silver Pavilion), and finally Ryōan-ji (lit. Resting Dragon Temple), which is famous for its rock garden. We also traversed Fushimi Inari-taisha with its seemingly endless pathways of thousands of vermillion torii gates winding through the forest of Mount Inari. Another picturesque location was the bamboo grove in Arashiyama, which we explored for 45 minutes or so. Next, we went boating for about two hours on the Hozugawa River. I also enjoyed visiting Nishiki Market, particularly when it came to browsing for souvenirs.
Chapter 4: A Perplexing Paradox (and Further Reading)
It was beyond impressive to witness just how seamlessly Kyoto sheathes its heritage. That, in turn, got me thinking about Tokyo — the contemporary, neon-lit capital that feels so dissimilar from its predecessor, yet distinctly Japanese all the same. To make sense of this perplexing paradox, I realized I’d have to delve even deeper into the timeline. And delve deeper I did.
[WARNING: Timeline Recap Incoming… Bear With Me]
As it turns out, the Heian period was followed by the Kamakura period (1185-1333), when a guy named Miyamoto no Yoritomo decided to set up his own government (bakufu, or shogunate) in Kamakura, ruling alongside the Kyoto Imperial Court. I was intrigued to learn that this period also saw Japan’s first encounter with the Mongol Empire, with an invasion attempt first landing in 1274 in Kyushu. It ultimately failed, though, due to a combination of fierce Japanese resistance and turbulent weather. A second attempt followed in 1281, yet internal problems on the mainland and similarly unfavorable conditions meant the Mongols never managed to gain a foothold in Japan.
[Kamakura >> Edo Period]
Later, Emperor Go-Daigo restored imperial power in Kyoto by overthrowing the Kamakura Bakufu in 1333, initiating the Muromachi Period (1336-1573). After a few more rounds of imperial reshuffling, the Azuchi-Momoyama Period (1573-1603) emerged. The key figure here was Toyotomi Hideyoshi, who died while pursuing his ambitious (and arguably megalomaniac) dream of conquering China. He was succeeded by Tokugawa Ieyasu, who defeated Hideyoshi’s son and his loyalists, as well as other Western rivals, in the pivotal battle of Sekigahara in 1600 — whereby he established absolute wealth and power. In 1603, Ieyasu was appointed Shogun by the emperor and set his government’s capital in the eastern city of Edo (modern Tokyo). This move effectively ended Kyoto’s role as the administrative and political center, paving way for the Tokugawa shogunate to rule Japan for a remarkable 250 years.
Edo, once a modest village during the Kamakura Period, underwent rapid growth under the Tokugawa Shogunate. Its population boomed by the 1720s, and in an era largely devoid of war and civil conflict, small businesses and novel art forms such as kabuki and ukiyo-e flourished among the commoners. For my musicophiles, many of the musical forms we associate with Japan today took shape during this period — from shamisen-led kabuki accompaniments to matsuri (festival) traditions, including taiko rhythms and chant structures.
[Edo Period >> Modern Japan]
Around this time, Japan’s clampdown on foreign trade and its tryst with geographical isolation were being incessantly challenged by outsiders. One of the most prominent endeavors in this regard was the Perry Expedition (1853), which resulted in negotiations between the American Commodore Matthew Calbraith Perry and the Japanese government at the time. What followed was the abolishment of Sakoku, a highly restrictive foreign relations policy formalized under the early Tokugawa shogunate.
By this point, Tokugawa Yoshinobu — the shogun at the time — found himself in a pickle. Amidst growing risks of encroachment and a faltering shogunate, he realized the futility of his situation, thereby abdicated political power to Emperor Meiji in 1868. This is commonly referred to as the Meiji Restoration, marked by rapid industrialization as well as an influx of Western ideas. Once the emperor moved to Edo from Kyoto, the city was officially renamed Tokyo, or the “eastern capital.”
The subsequent Taisho and Early Showa periods (1912-1945) were associated with grueling military warfare as Japan participated in both World Wars. Post World War II, the country found itself in a state of utter mayhem. Most of the large cities, transportation networks, and industrial systems were severely damaged. Only in the second half of the 20th century did Japan’s economic recovery make strides. And by the late 1980s, it had boomed, eventually turning into the world’s second-largest economy. Experts referred to this period as the ‘Japanese bubble economy.’
Chapter 5: Edo Never Really Left
At present, Tokyo — the backdrop to my college life — stands out as one of the largest metropolitan economies in the world. And yet, the spirit of Edo persists as food, fashion, and pop culture remain an integral part of life here. It boasts the world’s most complex yet reliable rail network, is regarded by many as the food capital of the world, and serves as an avenue for a growing anime and gaming culture. A paragon of urbanity, Tokyo is now the largest city across the globe in terms of its urban agglomeration population. If there’s one thing that living here has taught me, it’s that there’s always, always something new to discover. Think corner stores with cool knick-knacks, voguish boutiques, scrumptious street food spots — you name it. Three years in, I’m still not even close to unraveling everything that this megacity has to offer.
Chapter 6: Heian, Too, Stays
Then there’s Kyoto, the cultural heart of Japan. Despite the surge of tourism in recent years, it feels devoid of that characteristic city bustle. For one, it is one of the few cities left vastly untouched during World War II. This is why traditional wooden townhouses called machiya (町家) persist even now as typified structures. Further endeavors have been made to preserve the sanctity of the city, such as a 1978 “Declaration of Kyoto as a City Open to the Free Exchange of World Cultures.” To this day, Kyoto retains the refined, aesthetic, and spiritually complex culture of Japan’s Heian period, marked by a deep appreciation for fleeting beauty, nature, waka poetry, and much more. Writing this now, I think back to the three days I spent wandering from shrine to shrine, drifting through narrow lanes and cul-de-sacs, and feeling a sense of calm that I reminisce about even today.
Chapter 7: My Future Itinerary
TL;DR — Kyoto and Tokyo alike serve as bastions of centuries-old customs, blending contemporary and ancient elements in ways that elevate their atmosphere while preserving their idiosyncrasies. While one upholds millennia-old tradition, the other embraces modernity, carrying an urban spirit that took shape centuries ago. Yet, to me, each feels uniquely Japanese all the same — with spotless streets, order, and a shared sense of responsibility that also leaves room for color, creativity, and modern obsessions like anime.
By the way, don’t even get me started on the other 45 prefectures, each with its own distinct culture, history, and personality! My personal travel goal? Visit all of them (if and when I can afford it!)
References – While this blog is largely reflective, I did refer to the following resources for historical context and timeline verification while writing:
- Japan Guide. Japanese History https://www.japan-guide.com/e/e641.html
- Columbia University, Asia for Educators. Timeline of Japanese History https://afe.easia.columbia.edu/timelines/japan_timeline.htm
- Wikipedia. Timeline of Japanese History (used primarily for broad overview and verification) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Timeline_of_Japanese_history
For broader historical background and deeper context, I also found the following works particularly helpful, and would highly recommend them to readers interested in learning more:
- Totman, C. (2005). A History of Japan. Blackwell Publishing.
- Jansen, M. B. (2000). The Making of Modern Japan. Harvard University Press.
Any interpretations, reflections, or omissions in this blog are my own.
