Ginkaku-ji

Ashikaga Yoshimasa built this as a retirement villa in 1482 while the capital was still smoking from the Onin War, which he had largely ignored in favour of aesthetics. That is the usual charge against him as a shogun, and the reason he matters as a patron: the tea ceremony, flower arranging, noh and the shoin style of architecture all took recognisable shape in the circle around this villa. It became a Zen temple after his death, officially Jisho-ji.

The Silver Pavilion was never silver. A 2007 investigation found no evidence that foil was ever applied, and the plan, if there was one, died with the money. What stands is a two-storey lacquered wooden hall over a pond, weathered dark, and it looks better for it. Yoshimasa's other surviving building, Togudo, holds a four-and-a-half tatami room called Dojinsai that is generally cited as the ancestor of every tea room in Japan.

In front of the pavilion sits Ginshadan, a sea of white sand raked into ridges, and beside it Kogetsudai, a truncated sand cone about 180 centimetres high. Nobody knows for certain what the cone means. The moon-viewing explanation is popular and probably later.

The route is one-way and takes about forty minutes. It climbs through a hillside moss garden, gives you a view back over the roofs of Kyoto, and drops you at the exit. Entry is 500 yen. The path is narrow and the temple is on every bus tour, so between ten and three you shuffle. First thing in the morning it is a different place. The Philosopher's Path starts at the gate and runs two kilometres south along a canal to Nanzen-ji, which is the natural next move.