But First.....

Before I launch into our temples and shrines and gardens greatest hits list, a word about etiquette. Because of course there is one - this is Japan!

The main difference between a Buddhist temple and a Shinto shrine is the entrance. Temples have a sort of large gate house, called a sanmon, and shrines have a simple gate, called a torii, which is meant to separate the human world with sacred ground. Inside the temple is a Buddha, and inside a shrine is a god. 

Many of these sites are actually compounds with many subtemples or smaller shrines, as many as a couple of dozen! Some also include cemeteries, with little shrines and altars dotted about. Each relates to a particular diety or aspect to be prayed to. the big ones are enormous, with elaborate gold-leaf on wood carvings several inches thick. There are brilliant gold chandeliers, raised wooden and lacquered spaces with candles or statues or offerings of flowers or fruit or incense. They have the footprint of a large office block. Whereas others might be a small Buddha or diety on a little stand in a small house-like structure barely two feet square. And of course there is everything else in between.

Okay, so shrines first. Walk on one side when entering the gate, as only the gods are allowed to advance down the middle. There will be a covered building with a basin of water, along with small long-handled pans. This is to purify you. Taking a pan of water you pour a bit into one hand, then into the other hand, then you drink from one of your hands, not the pan! 

Now that you are purified, you can approach the shrine of your choice. Bow slightly in front of a little or large wooden box with slats intermittently covering the top. Take a small coin (those aluminum 1 yen coins come in mighty handy) and toss it so that it hits one of the slats and falls into the box. Then you grasp the long rope or ribbons hanging down in front of you and give it-them a good swing to ring the bells at the top. It`s not really so much a ring as a metallic rasping noise, but the gods seem to like it, now that they know you are there. 

money box, bell rope

look up, way up!

Then you bow deeply - twice. then you clap your hands - twice. Then you bow once more, thank the gods for their service and you are done. 

Now temples. Same thing with the entrance, stick to one side. Same thing with the purification method. Here you can burn incense, which Buddha is partial to, although it is bad form to light your own incense stick off the burning sticks of others, and it means you will take on their sins. Bow, toss the coin, ring the bell, bow again but do not clap. People hold a small circle of beads, like a rosary instead. Thank Buddha and bow.

It is customary to purchase small ema, which are little wooden placques that you write your name and wishes on. Or you can purchase paper strips called omikugi, which hold fortunes and can be tied in a knot to a fence or tree. These fortunes can be chosen for specific desires, such as safe travels, childbirth, happy relationships, luck in business and so on.

There, now you are good to go. And we will visit a few temples and shrines next time.

Time Well Spent

If you have been wondering why the blog has not been updated often of late, it`s because we spend practically every waking hour walking and visiting temples. Temples, temples, temples. And shrines. Temples and shrines, shrines and temples. Oh, and gardens. Temples, shrines and gardens.

For example, over the last three days we have been to:

Kitano Tenmangu

Kinkaku-ji

Imamiya

Kourin-in and Zuihou-in at Daitokuji

Ginkaku-ji

Eikan-do

Honen-in

Tetsugaku-no-michi

Reikan-ji

Nanzen-in

Nishi Hongwan-ji

Higashi-Hongan-ji

Tofukuji

Fujimi-Inari-Tasisha

And those are just the big ones! There have also been many, many small ones we pass by and duck in to have a look. By now, we have a basic idea of what goes into a small temple, or shrine, and, while they are lovely, there are just so many of them that we are being more selective and focus on those of some significance: size, age, importance, uniqueness. 

And then when we get home I upload the thousands of photos, which for some reason inevitably end up being sideways or upside down, which means turning them right ways up, curating them, and naming them, by which time it is long past my bedtime.

So I will have to do this in stages. Bear with.

Vending Noodles

The Japanese love their vending machines. There are machines for liquid refreshment, alcoholic and otherwise, on practically every little street.. Most of these are not so different than those at home, other than their design.

this one has Tommy Lee Jones as the "Boss"
I wonder if he knows

But a few of them are wondrous. For example, you can get a tin of hot coffee. And you can choose black or sweat creamy - all sorts of roasts as well. And it's not bad! Especially on a cool morning, grabbing a lovely hot tin, and then opening it to drink something creamy and a little sweet - oooo, lovely.

a little shed with a vending machine: cold rice tea and hot coffee

Another unusual vending machine choice is ramen. At the Kyoto train station there is an entire floor - the 10th floor to be exact, where about a dozen ramen cafes reside. One chooses, pays, and gets a ticket, then waits in line until a seat is free. Whoosh, in front of you is delivered a big bowl of hot broth with your choice of thin or thick noodles and whatever you choose via machine: sliced hard-boiled egg, a slab of pork, bean shoots of course but maybe also palm hearts, yellow corn kernels, sliced cabbage, nori seaweed.

ramen vending machine

Ok, that last one was not strictly a vending machine in that the soup comes out of the machine itself, but it's as good as I say.

Getting Philosophical

One week ago there was snow, and today it is like summer. The locals think it's crazy too. But crazy works in our favour today, as the cherry blossoms are a good week early and Kyoto's Path of Philosophy is one of the prime cherry blossom sighting locations. 

Known as the Tetsugaku-no-Michi in Japanese, this mile-long path that follows a small, fast running stream, got its name from a 20th century philosopher named Nishida Kitaro, who apparently wandered lonely as a cloud along here until he became lost in thought. The rest of us don't have time to get lost in thought for we would bump into any one of hundreds of other would-be philosophers.

photographers

what they are photographing

Houses and cafes line the path which lines the stream and very patient drivers cross at small bridges as mooning couples and gormless tourists stop and take endless photos of themselves and the scenery. There are geishas and tourists dressed as geishas (for a hefty rental fee) and Japanese girls and boys who also pay to dress up. Older ladies put on their kimonos too, and its lovely to see everyone sauntering along just because a certain species of tree has decided its that time of year again. It's enough to make you think. And ponder. And wax lyrical. Or just to meander.

Oh Odawara, why did we not know ya?

We had an hour and a half between trains in Odawara, and so shoved bags in a a locker and set out to have a look at the Odawara castle.

I had never even heard of the Odawara castle - it never came up in our research, and it is only being in the region that it has been noticed. And noticed and noticed - it is one of the most pictured site of the area it seems and so our curiosity was piqued.

It was a lovely day, and seagulls screamed along with the ravens in this seaside city. Ancient pine trees soared above cherry blossoms white and pink against the blue sky. The crowds were out, as it is the spring holiday and many people from all over Japan as well as the world come to this place, as it is in between Tokyo and Hakone with its Mount Fuji views. An hour and a half is pretty much all you need to spend in Odawara, but that time could be put to very good use. It is easy to find the route, as there are hints along the street that help direct the way.

As you enter the gate, lanterns follow the route of blossoming trees.

Then you pass the formal opening gate and there it is.

The original castle was built in the mid-15th century, but soon fell into the hand of one of the family tribes during what is known in Japan as the Warring States Era. This era lasted more than a hundred years, so I am glad not to have been born then. In the end, this particular family clan was one of the last holdouts, and when the castle fell in 1590, Japan was reunified.

The Warring States Era kept the castle better than the more peaceful unified eras after. first of all, there was a massive earthquake in the early 1700s that toppled the place, although it was quickly rebuilt. About 150 years later, it felt into disrepair and was dismantled and sold off in pieces. The earthquake of 1923 took down what was left. In the early 1960s, it stated to receive its present incarnation in stages, with the most recent stage being one of the gates in 2009, with more to come. This has and is being achieved using old drawings and plans, and excavating the foundations. And just to make sure, concrete was used. 

construction technique - before concrete

Inside is an extremely good museum, highlighting chronological history as each flight of stairs is attained, until one gets to the top of the tower and looks out on all the land that used to be part of this complex, some of it still controlled by nature, but most of it built on, including the honking big train station about 1 kilometre away. Small birds nest in the upturned roof and cheap at us as we walk underneath.

 It is hard to not take a perfect photo of such a place on such a day, but I can't decide which is "perfect" - so I have a few and you can decide.

Bed Time

Sleeping on a thin futon on a tatami mat (woven grass) was not my back's favourite place to be, but by the third night it was feeling not bad at all. and how cosy does it look to be all covered with a voluminous marshmallow, warm and soft?

Gastronomy a go-go

Food served in a traditional ryokan is haute cuisine, and we have had the hautiest! Two dinners and two breakfasts following a set pattern, even though each one was completely different. Each dinner includes a series of small appetizers, mostly seafood, a plate of sashimi (thinly sliced raw fish), then a hot pot (such as sukiyaki). There is a miso soup, plain steamed rice, a tempura (lightly battered and then deep fried), Japanese pickles and 'salad'. Then dessert, which is usually fruit or jelly. I forgot to take photos of those - a slice of melon the first night and a trio of light jelly, sliced orange and a perfect strawberry the second night the first night we had plum wine with dinner, not because it was a particularly good choice with food, but because we love plum wine and haven't had it in ages. the second night we shared a small bottle of sake form the Hakone region, which was a much better food pairing choice.

Here are photos of our two dinners:

Now breakfast is a slightly different combination of dishes, even though to our western eyes, it seemed more like dinner than the bowl of corn flakes we grew up with. Here, there is always an egg dish, a fish, and a lighter miso, as well as streamed rice and tofu. We both tried each thing, and there might have been one or two items that were less to one taste or another, but collectively all the food was incredibly delicious and beautifully displayed. Corn flakes will never look the same. 

At the end of our second breakfast we were brought a cup of very good coffee. To prepare us for the outside world again perhaps? Well, they can try, but I think we could get used to living like this!

Proof of its Existence

Is there a more iconic mountain than Mount Fuji? Perhaps Everest, but even that is not necessarily recognized as such unless identified. but no one could mistake Mount Fuji. It is copied on postcards and tee-shirts and travel brochures and posters and books and anything else that means to illustrate "Japan". So of course we wanted to see it. Or at least try, as it is often foggy and rainy or hazy, particularly at this time of year. But at this time of year it is still covered in snow so when it can be seen it can really be seen. 

We did the classic self-guided loop, which means a bus climbing high into the hills to Lake Ashinoko and two little holiday towns at its southern end, then a ferry, incongruously a decked out pirate ship, to the top of the lake, then a gondola or "ropeway", than a cable car or funicular, and finally a train back to our little village. Actually the classic tour is the other way round, but it is a popular time of year here and so we decided to go against traffic.

It wasn't long before the bus climbed past piles of snow by the roadside, which grew in number and size. Methinks our little snow fall on the 31st floor in Tokyo meant a jolly good dump of the white stuff up here. But the sun was shining and it was quite warm, until we got to the lake where a very fresh breeze blew. 

And there it was! Magnificent in snow, a blue sky above - I couldn't imagine a better view! 

We walked through a wonderful line of 300 year old cedars, with fronds indicating a different species to our west coast cedars. to the side of the path was bamboo dappled with sun and snow.

Seasiders went fishing, boating on swan-shaped boats that were advertised as the most safe, or stood on shore and fed the voracious ducks and carp. All with sight of dramatic Mount Fuji.

We visited the old Hakone Palace, a late 19th century European-designed compound sprawled on the top of a small hill for the Imperial family to enjoy in the hot summers and another fabulous view. In 1922 Prince Edward VII visited (before he met Mrs. Simpson), as did many other international dignitaries. There was a Japanese building as well, but the whole thing was toppled in a massive earthquake, and just one small building was restored, then given to the public where it is now a heritage site. At this time of year, the many pieris japonicas are in blossom, most of which have been pruned round and smooth. Nature is revered in this country, but it is also tamed into various, 'perfect' shapes. I doubt if there is a tree or a bush in any garden that grew without human interference to make it look 'prettier'. 

Down by the second town, we passed through the 2007 reconstruction of what was an old checkpoint along the Tokaido highway that linked Kyoto to Tokyo. It was fortified, used to house soldiers and their horses, and provide a lookout as well as a prison. 

We boarded our boat, which powered its way faster than did pirate ships of old, and we lost sight of Mount Fuji as local hills crowded in. But the glorious Mount Fuji rose again as we climbed up the ropeway in our gondola. Our last view was at Owakudani, where it was a little shaded over with the suphurous mist of newly discovered thermal vents. The smell of old eggs mingled with the smell of recent eggs, hard boiled in the thermal waters and sold to tourists, eager to remove their black shells and eat them whole. 

Bye bye Mount Fuji, as we drifted over the far hill and back down, via cable car, to the tiny train that then shunted down steep switchbacks to our station. 

We thought that was then end, but no! As our train left Odawara station on its way to Kyoto the next day, there it was, rising above the haze as if floating on air, like an apparition.