Ryokans, Rickshaws and a Journey Through Timeless Japan

Japan is a country where the past isn’t left behind—it walks alongside you. In this first part of my Far Flung Adventure, join me as I uncover the timeless beauty of Kyoto and the vibrant contrasts of Tokyo.

We’ll slip off our shoes at a centuries-old ryokan in Gion, savor a kaiseki dinner that’s as much art as cuisine, and wander through vermilion gates that seem to climb into the clouds. You’ll hear about the rituals, the surprises, and the quiet moments that made this trip unforgettable.

And just when you’ve fallen under Japan’s spell, I’ll leave you at the water’s edge—gazing up at the most luxurious ship I’ve ever boarded, ready to carry us even deeper into this land of tradition and transformation.

What you’ll hear in this episode:

• The magic of Kyoto’s historic Gion district and our unforgettable stay at a traditional ryokan
• Dining on a kaiseki feast—why it’s more than just dinner
• Exploring Tokyo’s neon energy and serene temples in equal measure
• The moment we first laid eyes on the Silver Muse, setting the stage for Part 2

Subscribe to hear Part 2:
Part 2 of this journey—our voyage aboard the Silver Muse, through Kanazawa’s samurai heritage, Hiroshima’s moving memorials, and culinary adventures along Japan’s coast—is exclusively available to Far Flung Adventures subscribers. Subscribe right from your podcast app to join us.

Transcript

Ryokans, Rickshaws and a Journey Through Timeless Japan

The Shinkansen hissed to a stop in Kyoto. Minutes later, our taxi wove through the narrow streets of Gion — the district most often linked to geisha — before pulling up to a small wooden doorway framed by a plum blossom tree. Beneath it, a stone path crossed a gently gurgling brook. This was Shiraume, our ryokan — a traditional Japanese guest house whose name means “plum blossom.”

Konichiwa I’m Russ, and this is the next episode in Explorations All Over’s Far Flung Adventure series.  Today we’re off to the Land of the Rising Sun, Japan.

We slid the door open and stepped back in time. The entryway was dimly lit and cool, a welcome change from the heavy late-summer heat. A delicate fragrance drifted through the air — not the artificial sharpness of a cleaning product, but the faint, living sweetness of fresh flowers.

A young woman in a pale cotton yukata bowed deeply and asked us to remove our shoes. Another, equally graceful, knelt to offer us soft slippers for the tatami-covered floors. She guided us into a small waiting area, where cool green tea was set before us.

Then Tomoko entered. The owner of Shiraume, she glided in wearing a perfectly pressed yukata, her dark hair pulled into a neat bun high on her head. Every movement was deliberate, elegant. She sat with us, her attention unwavering as she asked about our journey from Tokyo. The room was hushed, the mood serene — and for the first time, I felt we were truly in the Japan we had come to find.

At a certain point, one of the attendants slipped in and handed Tomoko a slim folio. She opened it, confirming the details of our booking, including the kaiseki dinners we’d reserved — multi-course meals highlighting seasonal ingredients prepared by the ryokan’s chef. We would enjoy the first later that evening in our room.

Tomoko then offered to show us around. The ryokan had only five rooms — understated by American standards, but imbued with quiet elegance. Down one hallway she pointed out the onsen: a rectangular wooden tub filled with steaming mineral water flowing gently from a pipe in the wall. 

Kyoto rests above a network of hot springs, and here, bathing is a ritual — one must shower and cleanse completely before stepping into the onsen. If we wanted to use it, we’d need to reserve a time, which of course we did.

Beside the onsen was a small sitting area stocked with hot and cold beverages, including sake and plum wine, to enjoy after a soak.

We climbed a narrow staircase to our room, Umezono — “plum garden.” Inside, the space was bright and airy, with a low table at the center of the floor and two western-style chairs set beside a window overlooking the stream. The sleeping area held neatly rolled futon, which would be laid out and made up before dinner.

Tomoko confirmed our meal time, then bowed deeply, sliding the door closed behind her. Quiet settled over the room, broken only by the murmur of water outside. This — I thought — was the Japan we had come to see.

We were both in awe of this place and stood quietly, taking it all in. We’d been in Kyoto less than an hour and were already speechless. If this was our first taste of the city, I couldn’t imagine what we’d discover as the journey unfolded.

Moments like that don’t just happen by accident. They’re the result of choices made months earlier, when this trip was still nothing more than notes on a pad and bookmarked websites. 

We knew we didn’t want a “checklist” Japan — a blur of bullet trains and must-see sights — we wanted to get a better understanding of the country and the people. That meant being deliberate about every decision: where we stayed, how we traveled, and what we prioritized once we arrived. And it all started long before our plane touched down in Tokyo.

Japan had been on our bucket list for years. Then came a too-good-to-pass-up offer from Silversea Cruises — a 13-night circumnavigation. What better way to explore a country so steeped in history, yet so different from ours?

Booking flights was easy. We spent hours hunting for the right hotel — not just a place to sleep, but somewhere that would put us in the middle of Tokyo’s heartbeat and within walking distance of authentic restaurants, yet far enough from the tourist churn to feel like we’d found our Tokyo. We lined up private tours for the must-sees the cruise wouldn’t cover — including Mt. Fuji and certain parts of Kyoto — and congratulated ourselves for being so organized.

Deposits paid. Reservations confirmed. All we had to do now was wait for departure day… which, just like Africa, came faster than expected and with the same mix of excitement and “what exactly have we gotten ourselves into?”

The flight over on Japan Airlines started out feeling glamorous — champagne, warm towels, endless movies. But after 14 hours you lose a lot of the glamor. At some point you realize you’ve eaten three variations of beef short ribs, cycled through more rom-coms than you’ll admit, and can’t sit in the lie flat position for much longer. By the time we landed in Tokyo, we were more than ready to step off the plane and into Japan.

We landed in Tokyo and a driver from the Tokyo Station Hotel, was waiting.

He greeted us with a deep bow and we happily returned the gesture.  It seemed such an ancient but revered custom.  We arrived into a hustling, bustling Tokyo mid-afternoon and were greeted at the hotel with more bows (okay, from now on just assume everyone is bowing).  The hotel was gorgeous and our spacious room overlooked the plaza in front of the train station.

As excited and anxious as we were to be there, we were exhausted and wanted to rest before dinner.  When we got up, I looked out of the window to see thousands of people scurrying into and out of the train station – clearly the workday had ended.

And what surprised me most?  Everyone was wearing the exact same thing.  It was like watching an entire office building spill into the streets at once — a monochromatic tide of black and white, each person moving in sync without so much as a stray shirt color in sight.  Duncan came and looked, and we got a little chuckle.  Clearly conformity was the norm, but it got me thinking how very typical it was of the Japanese: no one stood out and everyone was understated in simple black and white.

Tokyo can best be described as frenetic; energy and movement; ebb and flow and rules must be obeyed.  Even if there is no traffic coming, if the light is red, you don’t cross the street.  HAH!  Try to tell that to a New Yorker.  I can’t repeat what they would say.  This is a family podcast.

Lots of etiquette to learn — and it’s best to study up before you arrive.

We wanted to experience both Japan’s ancient history and its modern city life. You’ll never guess what the most popular shopping destination for the Japanese is? 7-Eleven. They’re everywhere. But, as with everything in Japan, the experience is taken to a whole different level.

Exploring the countryside took us to Mt. Fuji, but that Kodak moment wasn’t meant to be — clouds hid the summit. We had to settle for a postcard from the gift shop. Still, it was fantastic to get out of the city and slurp noodles with the locals for lunch.

Tokyo is a foodie destination, and we enjoyed everything from Wagyu beef — a Japanese specialty — to some of the best sushi I’ve ever had. Melt-in-your-mouth doesn’t even begin to cover it. Sushi in Japan isn’t a lingering, chatty affair. You order. You eat. You leave. I guess you’d call it Japanese really fast food.

The next day we got up and went to the train station for our Shinkansen to Kyoto.  And we got lost in the melee that was the train station in the morning; a maelstrom of bodies going this way and that.  With the help of our hotel escort, we finally found our train — and with that, we were on our way to the Kyoto experience I’ll never forget.

Earlier I talked about our arrival in Kyoto. After we checked in at Shiraume, we decided to explore this ancient city. We wandered just a few blocks, passing centuries-old machiya — traditional wooden townhouses — and leaving behind the tranquil peace of the Gion district. And then, smack dab in the middle of a busy shopping street just outside Gion, there it was: a 7-Eleven. Old Japan and modern Japan, coexisting side by side.

One of the first places our private guide took us was the Temple of a Thousand Gates, known for its endless rows of bright orange torii — traditional Japanese gates that mark the entrance to a shrine.  Row after row curved upward, each one etched with black inscriptions, forming a tunnel that seemed to go on forever. You may remember the temple from Memoirs of a Geisha — but being here in person was nothing like the movie. 

In the heat of the morning the air was thick with the scent of cedar, the sound of footsteps on stone, and the low murmur of visitors making the long climb. Duncan and I stepped through the first gate, and it felt like we were crossing into another world. Our guide explained the history as we started up the hillside, walking through gate after gate, each one donated by a business or individual for good luck. It seemed to go on forever — and honestly, after that climb, it felt like it almost did.

If you want to see some of what I’m talking about — like our ryokan in Kyoto or the endless torii gates at the Temple of a Thousand Gates — I’ve posted photos and short videos on Facebook and Instagram. Just look for Explorations All Over.

And while you’re there, remember this is only Part 1 of my Japanese adventure. In Part 2, we’ll trade bullet trains for the Silver Muse — watching mist roll off the mountains from our balcony, wandering through Kanazawa into the home of a prominent samurai, standing in the ruins of Hiroshima and seeing the burned-out remains of the Atomic Bomb Dome, and tasting some of the best seafood I’ve ever had in my life at a sushi stall where all we could do was point and hope for the best.

That episode is part of my Far Flung Adventures subscriber series, so if you’d like to join me for the rest of the journey, you can subscribe right from your podcast app.

After the Temple of a Thousand Gates, our guide hopped us on a bus and we headed to the Nishiki Market in downtown Kyoto — and what a contrast to Gion’s quiet, ancient streets. Here, stall after stall overflowed with fresh seafood, seasonal produce, local crafts, and the buzz of shoppers.

We were lucky to grab a small table at one of the stalls, where we feasted on some of the freshest seafood I’ve ever had, washed down with a cold Japanese beer. This wasn’t some tourist strip selling cheap t-shirts and plastic souvenirs — this was the real deal, and we loved every minute of it.

We arrived back to the peace and tranquility of the ryokan.  We had booked the onsen and after changing into our yukata walked down, showered and lowered ourselves into the warm almost hot water.  Oh, after climbing the steps of the Thousand Gates and walking through the Nishiki Market it was pure heaven.  So relaxing.

After we went into the small sitting room and I poured us each a small cup of sake.  After the warmth of the onsen, the cool of the room felt amazing.  We sat for a bit reliving the day before we got up to get ready for the evening’s dinner.

One of the most memorable parts of Kyoto was dinner at the ryokan — and we did it twice. These weren’t just meals; they were experiences. Each course was about more than presentation — it was the textures, the ingredients, the flavors, and the story behind the preparation. You could close your eyes and taste every element, from the salt of the sea to the faint sweetness of a seasonal blossom.

We ordered a small glass pitcher of sake to share, and somehow, they made it last the entire evening, pouring just enough for a sip or two as each dish arrived. The pacing was deliberate, almost ceremonial, and it pulled us into the rhythm of the meal.

Both nights, Tomoko joined us for part of the evening, sitting and talking with us in her calm, gracious way. There was an elegance in how she moved, how she poured the tea, how she listened. It made me feel — just for a moment — that this must be what it must have been like to spend an evening in the company of a geisha.

And just to dispel the myth, geisha were not prostitutes.  They were hired for their skills with the arts: the art of conversation, the art of dance, the art of hospitality and entertainment.

At the end of the meal, we were presented with a small origami packet. Inside was a printed list of each course — a keepsake we took home not just to remember what we ate, but to remember how it felt to be there.

As much as we didn’t want to leave Kyoto’s understated elegance and quiet charm, the next morning we boarded the Shinkansen back to Tokyo for one last night in the city. Early the following day, our driver whisked us to the port — and there she was. The Silver Muse. Sleek, gleaming, and ours for the next two weeks. It was our first sailing with Silversea, and from that very first look, I knew this ship would set an incredibly high bar for every cruise to follow.

In Part 2 of this Far Flung Adventure, the pace shifts. We’ll slip into life at sea, watch Japan’s coastline drift by from our balcony, and step ashore into cities and towns that each tell their own story — all while aboard the most luxurious ship we’ve ever sailed, with food and service that set a new standard for us.

Our excursions will take us to ancient cities steeped in history, breathtaking pagodas and temples — including one completely covered in gold leaf — and even a ride in a man-powered rickshaw. Along the way, we’ll discover why the Japanese are so deeply proud of their culture and heritage.

It was a journey like no other, and I’d love for you to subscribe and join me for the rest of it.

For now, I’m Russ.   Thanks for joining me on this first part of an unforgettable Far Flung Adventure.  Until next time, I’ll see you soon.