We started bright and early, catching the train to Fushimi Inari Shrine, a place famous for its thousands of bright orange torii gates that wind up a mountain. 
It looked serene and mystical in photos, almost like stepping into another world. What those photos don’t tell you is that the whole shrine is essentially a cleverly disguised mountain hike. The kind of hike that starts off with a gentle incline, lulling you into a false sense of security. 
I confidently pushed Joni in her stroller up the smooth ramp, thinking we were absolutely crushing this parenting-while-traveling thing.
Then came the stairs. Lots of stairs. Stairs that went on forever, zig-zagging up the mountain like they were designed by someone who hates knees. Bug steps, small steps, any kind of step you could imagine…
But we were determined not to be those parents who let a stroller hold them back. Oh no. Emily and I hoisted Joni and the stroller up step after step, fueled by sheer stubbornness and a touch of insanity. 
Tourists stared, some openly gawked, and one lady even gave us an impressed nod. I imagine they were either inspired by our perseverance or convinced we had completely lost our minds.
Thousands of gates and what felt like a million steps later, we reached the summit. It was everything we hoped for, serene, spectacular, and utterly peaceful in the early morning light. It was more about the journey through the thousands of gates than the summit which made our trek worth it. Joni, of course, was completely unfazed and merely looked around with a wide-eyed curiosity that probably translated to, “Why did we walk all the way up here?”
On the way down, we took a lesser-known path that led us through a residential neighborhood. It was like stepping into a movie scene, school children ran by with backpacks bouncing, elderly people carried bags of groceries, and little gardens burst with color. It was a glimpse into everyday life in Kyoto, untouched by the tourists.
Feeling victorious, we jumped on another train and headed to Kiyomizu-dera Temple. This magnificent wooden structure is famous for its massive terrace overlooking Kyoto and its three sacred streams of water. Legend has it that drinking from these streams grants you longevity, success, or love, depending on which one you choose.
I had visited Kiyomizu-dera once before, back in middle school, and I proudly told Emily that I had, of course, chosen the love stream. “Nailed it!” I declared, to which she responded, “Good choice,” with a smirk.
This time, we made the steep hike up the hill to the temple, winding through bustling market streets selling everything from handmade ceramics to bizarrely cute cat-themed souvenirs. At the top, the view was just as breathtaking as I remembered. 
We made our way to the triple streams, each of us drinking from the longevity stream and sneaking a few drops for Joni. It’s never too early to stock up on good health and long life. 
Afterward, we wandered through the narrow streets around the temple, hoping to find a highly recommended soba noodle restaurant. Alas, our navigation skills weren’t quite up to the challenge, so we headed to Nishiki Market instead.
Nishiki Market is a sensory overload in the best way possible. It’s a long, covered arcade filled with food stalls selling every kind of Japanese snack imaginable. We sampled mochi, roasted chestnuts, yakitori skewers, and takuyaki. Every bite was delicious, and every stall was manned by a cheerful vendor who greeted us with warm smiles. 
We returned to the hotel for a much-needed siesta before gearing up for the highlight of the evening: dinner with a geisha.
We were seated in a traditional Japanese room, complete with tatami mats and low tables, served by waitstaff dressed in elegant kimonos. Our hotel had arranged for an authentic geisha to join us for the meal, and as she entered the room with a graceful, almost floating movement, I realized we were about to experience something truly special.
She was a vision of beauty and tradition, dressed in a stunning silk kimono with hair styled so meticulously that it looked like a work of art. At first, it was a little awkward, as she spoke very little English and we spoke zero Japanese. But, thanks to the wonders of modern technology and phone translators, we managed to have a surprisingly insightful conversation.
We learned that becoming a geisha requires years of intense training, beginning as a maiko (apprentice) and mastering traditional arts like dance, tea ceremony, and musical instruments. She explained that geisha are not courtesans, but rather highly skilled artists and cultural ambassadors, preserving traditions that date back centuries. It was fascinating to hear how the role of geisha has evolved over time, adapting to modern society while staying true to its roots.
She was also completely enchanted by Joni, who flashed her brightest smiles and reached out with tiny hands, earning herself a few playful bows and coos. 
She served us fresh sake with a ceremony-like reverence. Then, she performed two traditional dances, moving with a fluid grace that was mesmerizing. Her expressions were so delicate and nuanced, telling a story with each flick of her wrist and tilt of her head. It was hypnotic, like watching poetry come to life.
By the end of the evening, I was thoroughly enchanted. Emily’s epic itinerary had been a resounding success, and I couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man in the world exhausted, but utterly content.
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