THE AIR IS crisp, refreshing and fragrant. There's barely a cloud in the sky. I stroll towards the pond up ahead, and see a multicolour spectacle of koi gathering in a frenzy for small bites of bread. Throughout the year, this pond garden is an ukiyo-e painting brought to life vividly—crape myrtle in summer, maple leaves in autumn, plum blossoms in winter, and, of course, cherry blossoms in spring. I cross the carefully preserved bridge and see the century-old pagoda on the pond's large island to my left. I'll be arriving at the Tea House soon, where a maiko is waiting for me.
No, this is not a firsthand account of Taira no Shigemori, the minister of state who owned the villa where this Shakusuien pond garden resides, from more than 800 years ago. It's my first day back in Japan after what feels like an eternity, and I'm immersing myself in Four Seasons Hotel Kyoto's highlight feature—its 10,000sqm resplendent ikeniwa, or pond garden. Of the luxury hotel's 180 keys, the rooms, suites and residences that have a garden view are the most popular (and booked) all year round. A limited number of residences are also available for sale for those who can't bear to leave such a gorgeous environment or do without the exquisite hotel amenities, such as a 20m indoor swimming pool, ofuro baths and a spa, among many others.
However, one of the hotel's standout services is something money cannot buy—arranging an opportunity to interact with a . may be more commonly known, but they're known as in Kyoto, explains Kokinu (小絹), who is a training to become a . I meet her at the Fuju lounge, which is located in the pond garden's Tea House and serves the. The 18-year-old—who was named Kokinu by her seniors—began her training after middle school. There have been fewer in Kyoto as the years have gone by, she says, but she nonetheless enjoys her career path—though she only has two days off a month and can't use a smartphone. Hair worn in a beautiful Japanese-style braid and dressed in a bright red (long-sleeved kimono), Kokinu pours me some of that and offers to teach me a rhythm-based drinking game. I agree—and lose a few beats into the very first game. She giggles politely and pours me another glass.
