Osaka
I slept late on my first morning in Osaka and then updated the blog until it was time to leave for the day. I had a wander, then found a coffee shop where I could review the tourist leaflets I had picked up the previous evening. After my reading I was pretty confused; there are different destinations to visit and each one seems to be served by a choice of railway companies or buses, all of whom offer multi-day discount cards of various sorts.
I headed to the railway station information desk, where the English speaking lady was able to provide pre-printed sheets explaining everything, so I knew when to buy single tickets and when to use a 3 day travel pass I bought. She even had a map of the station, explaining how to get to the different areas used by the various train companies, not straightforward when there are multiple levels, each with a series of tunnels and walkways extending hundreds of yards. It is like taking several London stations and linking them together.
In the afternoon I took a short train ride to visit Sumiyoshitaisha, a kind of shrine cum garden that my travel lady had recommended. I was disappointed; it was more like a local suburban park with children’s play areas and a little lake; I walked around it in ten minutes; pleasant enough, but nothing special. I checked my map to see if I had missed anything. I had. I was actually in a local suburban park. Sumiyoshitaisha was the other side of the train tracks; I had exited the station on the wrong side. Maybe I’m not getting the hang of this after all.
Finding the right place I was met by banging on a drum and rhythmic shouting as a team of two dozen men lifted and then carried a very heavy wooden structure, a kind of horizontal scaffold, around for 30 minutes before arriving back where they started. It was clearly some kind of a ceremony, but what the purpose of it was I have no idea. The rest of the place was kind of interesting, with little shrines all over the place, but the highlight had definitely been the heavy lifting.
Himeji
Day two took me on a 2 hour train ride to Himeji Castle. Other than 25 minutes underground, the entire route was through an endless suburbia of apartment blocks and densely packed little detached houses just a few feet apart. Outside city centres, Japan so far appears to be one giant suburb broken only by thickly forested steep hills. Oh, I did see a couple of rice fields, but they were very small.
Himeji Castle was built in 1600 and is now a Unesco World Cultural site. It consists of several outer walls guarded by a network of moats, while towering at the centre is the white wooden keep with its multiple levels. Despite its appearance as a smart, comfortable abode, the castle was designed with defence against siege very much in mind. There are small apertures in the walls for firing weapons, the towers have overhanging openings for dropping rocks on attackers and there are weapons racks on each floor.
It narrowly escaped being pulled down and destroyed when there was a national order to dismantle castles at the end of the 200 year warring states period. Luckily, it was given exemption. Between 1956 and 1964 the keep was dismantled, repaired and renovated before being put back together again. Quite a job. Fifty years later it was replastered and strengthened against earthquake risks. I was very impressed.
Just down the road is the very lovely Kokoen garden, really seven separate walled gardens, each attractive in its own way. One had a tea ceremony house so I took the opportunity to participate in the famous Japanese custom. I was served by a kimono-clad lady with an odd looking sweet and a bowl of something green and frothy that purported to be tea. And written instructions on what to do. Eat the sweet first, then pick up the bowl with the right hand and place it on the left palm. Turn the bowl clockwise so the markings are facing away from you. Drink the whole lot. Turn the bowl so that the markings are facing you again and replace it on the little table. I think I got it right, or close enough; at any rate, they did not throw me out and I have seen no reports of an international incident.
nara
Nara was the capital of Japan in the 8th century. It has Buddhist and Shinto shrines, but for many the big attraction are the 1200 wild deer that roam freely among the visitors. They are looking for the cakes of food the humans have bought for them, but if the human has no deer food to offer, they will eat anything that comes to, er, mouth…
I escaped from the deer with enough of my map left to find my way to Yoshikien Garden, which, although quite small, was attractive and had the singular benefit of being free for foreigners.
I was particularly looking forward to Isuien Garden next door, reputed to be one of the finest gardens in Kansai. It was closed. I had arrived on the one day in the week when it didn’t open. Double drat.
Never mind, there were other sights to see, starting with the largest wooden building in the world, Todaiji Temple, 57 m wide, 50 m deep and 49 m high. Impressive enough, but the original, built in the 8th century, was half as big again. (What were we doing then – oh, yes, living in mud huts in the dark ages.) The temple has burnt down and been rebuilt twice; the current structure dates to 1708.
Inside is the giant Buddha, a 15 m high bronze statue; to get an idea of the scale, it has hundreds of curls of hair, each one as big as your head. It too dates to the 8th century, although it was damaged and repaired after the fires, and, contrary to the Buddha’s calm reputation, he completely lost his head in an earthquake (fortunately he has now regained his composure).
In Japan Buddhism lives happily alongside Shinto beliefs in local gods, with the two religions being seen as complementary. Not far from Todaiji is the Shinto Kashuga Taisha shrine with more impressive buildings tracing their history back to the 8th century.
Nara was not the capital for very long, but unlike some cities that suffered a similar fate and then disappeared almost without trace (I’m particularly thinking of Kharakhorum here) it has preserved a wealth of magnificent temples for us to marvel at today.
Koyasan
Another day and more temples and shrines to visit, this time at Koyasan, up in the mountains an hour an a half train journey away. The first 50 minutes finally took me out of suburbia and into a land of closely connected villages interspersed with open fields. The last 40 minutes was on a two carriage local train that squealed and groaned as it climbed steeply around tight bends through tunnels, cuttings and dense forests that opened periodically to give stunning views across the deep valley to the mountains beyond. Never mind the temples, the trip was worth it just for the train ride.
There were nine little country stations on the line, all apparently in the middle of nowhere half way up the side of a gorge; the train stopped at every one, but on the whole way up and down I only saw one person get on and one get off. Everybody else was heading to or from Koyasan. For the last stage up the mountain we transferred to a funicular railway, and then a bus took visitors into Koyasan town.
The whole place owes its existence to a monk named Kobo Daishi or Kukai, who travelled to China in 804 and returned 2 years later eager to disseminate the esoteric Shingon Buddhist teachings he had studied there. Apparently he threw a fork from China and founded his monastic community where it landed in Japan. Erm, raises a few questions – for instance, how could he even see where it landed? Alternatively, he was looking for a suitable site when he was led to Koyasan by a black dog and a white dog representing two gods. Now that sounds much more likely. Whichever it was, he was clearly an exceptional person to create a lasting monastic complex high in the mountains. So exceptional, in fact, that there are signs by his mausoleum asking visitors to respect the belief that he is still alive there, eternally meditating for the benefit of all living beings. A bit far fetched you may think, but surely no more far fetched than our familiar Christian beliefs about a resurrected saviour.
Kukai’s Okunoin mausoleum amongst majestic Japanese cedar trees has attracted others to be buried there over the centuries – approximately 200,000 of them, all with memorial stones or mausoleums spread through the beautiful forest leading to the master’s grave. Without doubt the largest graveyard I have ever seen, and one of the most interesting. It was very still and peaceful under the towering trees, dead quiet you could almost say (sorry, couldn’t resist that).
Back in the land of the living I visited the Kongobuji Temple, comprising various halls and rooms with beautiful paintings on sliding screens (no photos of these allowed unfortunately). It is the headquarters and administrative centre of the Koyasan Shingon-shu sect, which has 4000 branch temples throughout Japan and, more importantly, offers chairs and free tea to visitors. This visitor was very glad to take advantage of the hospitality before moving on to view the Danjo Garan complex of sacred buildings.
I have been familiar with some of the basic tenets of Buddhism for a long time – eventually achieving enlightenment through losing attachment to things that cause us pain, for example. What I had not realised is that there is a whole set of complex beliefs in different enlightened beings and the nature of the universe. Or, probably more accurately, whole sets of beliefs because there are different branches of Buddhism. I think I preferred it when it was simpler.
Anyway, by this time I had had enough temples for one day so I took my leave of Kukai’s world and enjoyed the train journey back down the mountain.
Kyoto
I learnt an important lesson today: my little day pack is not waterproof; in fact it lets water in beautifully. My shell jacket did better but did not cover itself in glory. Mind you, it was hammering down for the 20 minutes it took me to get to the bus stop, find it wasn’t there, find where it was, find out that the bus I wanted didn’t stop and finally find another stop where another bus did stop. I knew that not bringing an umbrella would be a problem at some point, and this was it. Resolution as I sit here drying out while I drink my over priced coffee: buy an umbrella if I want to do any outdoors sightseeing today. And being my second and last day in Kyoto with sights left to see, I do want to get out and about.
Yesterday I set off to see one temple in the morning and ended up seeing three before lunch. I started out at the Zen Buddhist Kinkaku-ji Temple, or Temple of the Golden Pavilion. (So did 10,000 other visitors – too many damn tourists here; why can’t they stay at home?) Dating to the 14th century, and set on a lake in a beautiful garden, it was a private villa that was left by its owner in his will as a temple. For those of you who are closely following the Buddhist details, it is in the Shokokuji School of the Rinzai Sect. (I did say that Buddhism was more complex than I had realised.) It certainly is very beautiful.
I had picked up a leaflet with some recommended walks. One of them started at the temple, so I tried it out. It wasn’t anything very special, although there were some pleasant woods on the hillside above the road at one point. However, it did lead me by chance to the second temple, Ryoanji. Lacking the knock out punch of a golden pavilion, this was a lot less crowded, and all the better for it. Paths wind around a beautiful lily-covered lake towards temple buildings which hide a Zen rock garden considered a masterpiece. Contemplation of the white gravel and 15 rocks is said to lead to understanding of the mysteries of life. Unfortunately, I did not come away any wiser, although it was good to rest my legs; perhaps I should have stayed longer.
Resuming my walk, I arrived at Ninnaji Temple. This is a whole series of buildings, the first of which was begun by the 58th Emperor Koko, and completed by Emperor Uda in 888. Japan certainly has a rich history. It is currently the headquarters of the Omuro School of the Shingon Buddhist sect (there will be a test later, so pay attention). Large parts of it are currently undergoing restoration, covered with scaffolding, which rather spoils the view, but by this stage I was in any case getting more interested in lunch. Three temples since breakfast was pushing my capacity somewhat.
I found myself a nearby restaurant and at Tim Knowles’ recommendation I bravely tried ramen. Apparently a hot topic of Japanese conversation is the difference between Kyoto and Tokyo ramen. Ramen, it turns out, is just noodles. However, it is served up in different ways. Mine came in a thin, citrusy soup accompanied by floating boiled egg, ham, various seaweeds and some other unidentified and not particularly edible objects. The noodles themselves were fairly innocuous, the eggs and ham were fine, the soup okay-ish, the seaweed horrible and the other things not to be eaten. So, if this is typical Kyoto ramen, I give it 3 out of 10. I shall have to wait and see how they serve it in Tokyo. If I dare.
Finishing my coffee after writing the above, it was still throwing it down outside, but I had dried out somewhat, so I set off to find the information office in order to replace my soggy town and bus route maps. It turned up, but only after I extricated myself from the obligatory vast underground shopping mall. I found some pastries for lunch and since the rain was still trying to break through the glass station roof, I went in search of an umbrella, finally finding one on the 6th floor of a department store within the station. Now, the last time I bought an umbrella it cost £5 and worked fine, so I was more than a little shocked to see prices of £40 and £70, but I had to have one and eventually found one at ‘just’ £22. I begrudgingly parted with my money and in return received the umbrella wrapped in an attractive paper bag enclosed within a large plastic carrier bag; the Japanese do like their packaging. I took everything out of my day pack, put it in the plastic bag and put that back in the day pack. Now it could rain as hard as it liked: my pack was watertight and I had the umbrella. I confidently walked outside where I found – it had stopped raining. Now I am encumbered with another (expensive) item to stuff into my bulging backpack and carry around. I don’t know whether to hope that I get some use out of my investment or hope that I don’t need it. To add insults to injury, so to speak, the next morning I noticed something I had not seen before: the hotel lobby had a rack of umbrellas for loan, and later I saw one for sale in a supermarket for £5. Doh!
Prepared for anything, and not needing to be, I spent the afternoon at Fushimi Inara Taisha, a sacred mountain with paths covered overhead by large orange gates called Torii, thousands of them. The main shrine at the bottom was very crowded but the further I climbed between the orange columns up the forested mountain the less people there were. There were scores of little shrines all the way and finally a slightly larger one at the top; most of them featured What I think is a a dog holding something akin to a sausage in its mouth. Well, why not?
Rob's Roads 