Ponto-cho did not always exist. The narrow strip of land between the Kamo River and the Takasegawa canal was created in 1670, when the area was landfilled as part of levee construction to protect the city from flooding. What had been river became real estate, and the long, thin shape of the reclaimed land dictated the district's distinctive form: a single alley with buildings pressed tightly on either side, some opening westward onto the Takasegawa canal and others opening eastward with views over the Kamo River. The first ochaya -- tea houses -- appeared by 1712, and over the following century the street was granted an official license as a hanamachi. From the beginning, Ponto-cho's geography shaped its culture. The narrowness of the alley created an intimacy impossible in wider streets, and the river frontage provided a natural setting for the elevated wooden dining platforms that would become one of the district's signatures.

The stretch of the Kamo River beside Ponto-cho is associated with one of the most important moments in Japanese performing arts. In 1603, a shrine maiden named Izumo no Okuni began performing dances on a temporary stage along the dry riverbed. Her performances -- combining dance, acting, and comedy in ways that broke with existing theatrical traditions -- evolved into kabuki, an art form that would transform Japanese culture. A bronze statue of Okuni now stands on the eastern bank of the Kamo River, directly across from Ponto-cho, posed in the dramatic costume of her performances. The district's own crest is a stylized water plover, a bird commonly seen along the riverbanks where Okuni danced. The connection between Ponto-cho and kabuki runs deeper than geography: the district's geiko and maiko carry forward the same tradition of stylized performance, refined gesture, and the blurring of everyday life and art that Okuni pioneered four centuries ago.

After dark, Ponto-cho becomes a different place. Paper lanterns bearing the crests of individual establishments cast a warm amber glow along the alley, and the sounds of shamisen music and conversation drift from behind sliding doors. The restaurants and tea houses on the river side of the alley extend wooden platforms called kawayuka out over the Kamo River during the warm months, from May through September. Diners sit above the flowing water, eating kaiseki cuisine or simpler fare while watching the lights of Higashiyama reflect on the river surface. The mix of establishments runs from exclusive ryotei -- traditional high-end restaurants requiring introductions -- to casual yakitori bars and cheap ramen shops. This range has always been part of Ponto-cho's character. Geiko and maiko have existed here since at least the sixteenth century, but so have simpler pleasures. The alley accommodates both the refined and the everyday, separated by nothing more than a sliding door.

At the Sanjo-dori end of the alley stands the Ponto-cho Kaburenjo Theatre, completed in 1927. The theatre serves a dual purpose: it is a daily practice hall where geiko and maiko rehearse their arts, and it is the venue for the annual Kamogawa Odori, a public performance tradition dating to 1872. The Kamogawa Odori combines traditional dance, kabuki-influenced theatre, singing, and the playing of instruments including shamisen, koto, and fue flute. The performances, held each May, offer one of the few opportunities for the general public to see Ponto-cho's geisha perform their art outside the private rooms of the tea houses. The tradition began during the early Meiji era, when the government encouraged geisha districts to host public performances as part of broader modernization and tourism efforts.

In the 1970s, American anthropologist Liza Dalby arrived in Kyoto for doctoral research into the institution of geisha in modern Japanese society. Over the course of a year, she did something no Western woman had done before: she trained and practiced as a geisha in Ponto-cho, learning the dances, conversation arts, and social codes from the inside. Her experience resulted in the book 'Geisha,' published in 1983, which became one of the most widely read English-language accounts of geisha culture. Dalby's work revealed a world far more complex than Western stereotypes suggested -- a professional tradition built on years of artistic training, social sophistication, and the ability to create an atmosphere of ease and entertainment. Ponto-cho continues much as it was when Dalby walked its narrow alley, the lanterns still lit, the tea houses still operating behind their discreet facades, the sound of wooden geta sandals still clicking on the stone pavement after dark.