I wake up, pour hot water into a cup, open a window in my apartment and meditate. 

It has been a challenging 25 months. It’s hard to keep my emotions in check.  

When a storm hits a mountain, the exposed, vulnerable trees fall first. 

Being on my own makes me vulnerable, just like one of those trees. 

Being single during the pandemic was really hard. I haven’t been able to hang out with friends, have a drink with my colleagues or chat casually with people. Since the start of the pandemic, most of my face-to-face interaction with people has been replaced by a laptop or a phone. I was feeling so isolated and afraid that my entire world was reduced to a 15-inch monitor. 

And living in one of the most visited cities in the world makes the state of emergency even more depressing. 

When the first state of emergency was ordered in the spring of 2020, I walked through an arcade in Kawaramachi and all the shops were closed except convenience stores and pharmacies. 

I felt like a character in a dystopian movie walking around the town on a sunny day, a perfect day for a stroll. The air was warm and nice, and the sky was clear. Yet, there was nobody on the street. No one! This is in a city that hosts 87,000,000 tourists a year. 

It saddens me every time I see a sign of “closing down” on souvenir shops and restaurants. The newly built hotels that expected tourists to come for the 2020 Olympic Games are standing empty. 

It is a huge loss. It’s not just financial. It’s people’s dedication and commitment to produce something worthwhile for the future. 

I am reminded of my travels. I loved going to new places… North America, Oceania, Asia, Europe. I have visited 70 cities in 27 countries. As a traveller, I feel so sympathetic for the people who are relying on tourism for a living.

And so, I decided to start travelling again – travelling in my own city. 

Every weekend, I hop on my bicycle and ride to one or two cafes that I really want to support. Talking to the people running the cafes, I let them know how thankful I am to have places like theirs that are helping people to feel part of a community. When I tell them “Ganbatte (to stay strong)”, they reply, with a smile, that they will.  

Once I started to act like a tourist in Kyoto, I felt less lonely.  

I think it’s because I have travelled mostly on my own, I have learned to enjoy my own company. 

It has been, in a way, a healing process. Pedalling my bicycle, I feel like I am talking to my city saying things like…

“Hey, thanks for having me. I really like you. I would like to know more about you and I want to spend more time with you. Can we have a good time together?”

Kyoto remains serene. It doesn’t need too many fancy words – Not a place for neon signs or loud advertising. I feel that Kyoto is smiling at me while showing me beautiful gardens, temples, rivers and mountains. 

Sometimes I feel Kyoto is telling me stories of its past… interesting stories about the people who have been here a long time ago. 

“Back in 869, there was a pandemic and people prayed for purification with a festival…” 

War, famine, political uprisings, floods, earthquakes… Kyoto has gone through quite a lot. Yet, it has remained peaceful and serene as if it were a gentle buddha statue.

I sit on the Kamogawa riverbank and watch the surface of the water. I wonder how many times this river has flooded during a typhoon. I picture all the people putting sandbags to preserve this landscape. 

I stop by Bukkoji temple and watch the smoke rising from an incense urn. I think of the people that sought solace here after losing their loved ones. I think of the time when prayers and quarantine were the only ways of dealing with diseases. 

I follow the steps to the top of Mount Hiei imagining people walking the same path hundreds of years ago. I don’t think they would have complained about the lack of travelling opportunities.

In the zen garden of Hogo-in temple hearing the cicadas and the sound of a stream, I try to remind myself that we will get through this pandemic, just like people have in this city before. This city and its culture have survived. 

Over the past two years, I have become a traveller of time. And I will continue traveling Kyoto.