Japan Trip Day 6: Matsue ah! (with apologies to Bashō) 日本旅行６月５日

 

The Matsue City Hotel 松江シティホテル

Back in early 1989, I moved to Tōkyō 東京 and soon found myself working as an English teacher. One day, a student of mine returned from a visit to Matsue 松江, population 194,000 and the capital of Shimane Prefecture 島根県, bearing English-language brochures and maps of the city, and suggesting I should check it out. 19 years later, I finally got around to doing so. Better late than never, I suppose.

The primary sightseeing attraction is Matsue-jō 松江城, a five-story wooden castle dating from 1611. Japan is full of concrete reproductions of feudal-era castles, but there are only about a dozen original structures still standing, and I was to visit two on this trip. Matsue-jō is now the centerpiece of a park called Jōzan-kōen 城山公園, and is located near the prefectural government building. Inside are displays of armor and weapons, and the original shachi 鯱, auspicious mythical dolphins that were often placed on castle rooftops.

The top floor of the castle provides a 360-degree view of the city. Nearby is the Matsue Historical Museum 松江郷土間, a two-story mansion built in 1903 in the hope that the emperor 天皇 would stay there on a visit (it never happened). The Meiji era 明治時代 was an exciting period for Japan in terms of architecture, and it's a pity there aren't more buildings from that time still in existence.

After visiting the castle and the historical museum, I walked through the park, exited Jōzan-kōen on its northwest side, and entered Shiomi Nawate 塩見縄手, an era of old samurai 侍 houses, many of which are now museums, restaurants and teahouses. The first two buildings I stopped in at were related to Lafcadio Hearn 小泉八雲, one of the first Western writers to introduce Japan to Western readers. I've long been interested in Hearn's fascinating life story, and read his "Kwaidan" 怪談 during my early years in Tōkyō. First stop, therefore, was the Lafcadio Hearn Memorial Museum 小泉八雲記念館, containing many items from Hearn's daily life in Japan, and a detailed chronology of his life. Then it was on to Hearn's Old Residence 小泉八雲旧居, where the writer lived for six months in 1891. The front and back gardens of the house are still very similar to how Hearn described them in his essay "In a Japanese Garden", and it was easy to see how and why he fell in love with Japan soon after arriving in the country.

Two other places I visited in Shiomi Nawate included the Buke-yashiki 武家屋敷, the largest remaining samurai house in Matsue, and the Meimei-an teahouse 明々庵. It was while I was at the latter that I had to take refuge from the rain for the only time during my trip.

I'd like to pause for a moment to note that many of the attractions in Matsue, including the castle, Lafcadio Hearn Memorial Museum, Buke-yashiki and the moat ride, all offered substantial reductions in entry fees for foreign visitors. The staff at the tourist information office near the train station were also incredibly helpful, pointing me in the right direction as to where I could try to buy tickets for a Hanshin Tigers 阪神タイガース baseball game (sold out, alas) and suggesting several places where I could check my email. Clearly, Matsue is a city that welcomes the visitor from abroad, and I wish more localities in both Japan and Taiwan could do the same.

Meanwhile, back on the tourist trail, I was feeling pretty hungry. If there was one complaint I had with Matsue, it was that it was often difficult to find a reasonably-priced place to eat. In the end, however, and for a nice change of pace, I had a Southeast Asian-style fried chicken in lemon sauce lunch, washed down with a Chang Beer from Thailand, at a small cafe down the road from Shiomi Nawate. Feeling fortified, I next ventured to the Karakoro Art Studio カラコロ工房, on the site of a former bank that has now been converted into galleries, craft shops and a cafe, the latter from which I bought a cup of chocolate ice cream, and relaxed in the courtyard of the complex. If only I could be financially secure enough to live like that every day! Then it was time to get on one of the boats that takes tourists around the castle moat and canals. What was great about these boats (other than the 40% gaijin 外人 discount, of course) was that I had it all to myself, and you could get off at different points, and re-board later. Which is what I did, by paying a visit to the Matsue Horikawa 堀川 local beer hall to sample one of the microbrews 地ビール on offer, a very good pale ale.

I would've liked to have sampled some more, but it was getting on in the afternoon, so I got back on the boat and completed the journey around the moat.

I spent the rest of the afternoon on errands (the aforementioned tracking down of baseball ticket availability, and locating access to the Internet), and then headed down to the shores of Lake Shinji 宍道湖, the 7th-largest in Japan. The lake is noted for its spectacular sunsets, and on this day I wasn't disappointed. The view of the sun going down over tiny Yōme-ga-shima island 嫁ヶ島 was one of those moments best left to poets to express. I, on the other hand, savored the experience afterwards over a tonkatsu 豚カツ dinner, washed down with a draft beer 生ビール, at a Gusto ガスト branch conveniently located nearby.

Shinji-ko sunset 

So, was it worth going to Matsue after waiting all these years? Hell, yes! I would even wager that Matsue would be a nice place to live. Not the most exciting, perhaps, but pleasant enough, and close to both the mountains and the sea. I don't remember the name of the student who first told of this city, but I would like to thank her for the suggestion nonetheless.

Japan Trip Day 5: Top of Chūgoku Ma! 日本旅行６月４日

One neat thing about staying at the Matsue City Hotel 松江シティホテル was the free breakfast bentōs 弁当 they provided. Every morning from 6:30, they were placed out on a table by the elevator on the floor I was staying on, and the guests could help themselves. Though small, they were surprisingly filling, containing rice, fish, vegetables and a side of miso soup 味噌汁. However, on this particular morning, I missed out on the breakfast treat as I was up at 5, at Matsue Station 松江駅 in time to catch the 6:23 train to Yonago 米子, and finally the 7:40 bus to Daisen 大山, arriving there around 8:30. The purpose was to climb the highest mountain in the Chūgoku 中国 region, and the day I had chosen to do so was going to be the sunniest, according to the TV weather reports I had been tracking since my arrival in Japan on Sunday.

So naturally it was drizzly on the train/bus rides from Matsue to the village of Daisen, at the foot of the mountain. The rain, however, had turned into a fog/mist by the time I got off the bus, and I set out on the 2.8 kilometer (1.7 mile) hike up the mountain.

As you can see from the photo above, I wasn't going to be alone on this hike. As it turned out, there were 5th-graders from six different schools in Shimane Prefecture 島根県 out to tackle the mountain this morning, plus a number of other hikers. Here in Taiwan, the idea of climbing up the mountain while trying to pass several hundred kids would have been an ordeal, a terrifying run (or hike) through a gauntlet of taunting brats, with the adults either doing nothing to reign them in, or even worse, encouraging their charges to torment the foreigner (respect for one's elders in Chinese society apparently only applies to elders who are ethnically Chinese). These kids, however, were very different. As I passed them on the way up (and again on the way down), I was respectfully greeted with "Konnichi wa's" こんにちは and "Ohayō gozaimasu's" おはようございます, plus a few "Hello's" in English, but no smirks or obnoxious comments. Which all showed how, in general, Japanese society operates on a level of basic civility a couple of steps higher than in Taiwan. Time and again, cars (taxis included) would let me cross the road (unheard of where I live in Taiwan), and I almost never heard the sound of cell phones ringing as most people kept their keitai's on vibrating mode. And the majority of people, too, just seemed much more aware of what was going on around them, more so than most Taiwanese, which made walking around much easier.

But I digress. The first part of the trail was through beech forest, shrouded in fog, but after only a few minutes, I had to shed the jacket I was wearing due to the sweat I was working up.

Halfway up, the sun broke through the clouds, and the eastern slope of Daisen could be seen. I would cross it later on the trail I took down. Soon, however, as I got closer to the top, the fog rolled in, the wind rose up, the temperature dropped and the jacket came back on. The trail also narrowed to the point that it would've been a long drop had I been too careless in some way.

Finally, after 2 1/2 hours of walking, I reached the top, 1710.6 meters (5612 feet) above sea level (the actual summit is a little further on, at 1729 meters, or 5673 feet, but is too dangerous to hike on). The fog completely obscured any views of the countryside far below, but I relished the moment, and had a lunch of Calorie Mates カロリーメイト (I've got to see if they have these here in Taiwan!), Pretz プリッツ and soft, shredded squid, while talking with a couple of other hikers relaxing at the top. After 30 minutes or so, just as the first group of school kids was arriving, I ventured back down into the fog.

While descending, the ground below was visible at times through breaks in the cloud cover:

The local insect life was also on display:

I chose to take a different route back to the village of Daisen, 2.3 kilometers (1.4 miles) down to Daisen-ji Temple 大山寺. Crossing over a rocky river basin, the eastern slope was partially hidden in the clouds.

After another 2 1/2 hours of walking, the trail led to the back of Ōgamiyama-jinja shrine 大神山神社, the oldest wooden building in western Tottori Prefecture 鳥取県. I also visited Daisen-ji before finally boarding the bus, and returning first to Yonago, and then to Matsue, arriving back before 6pm. After dinner at the station, I returned to my hotel exhausted, but excited, over what has been the highest hike for me so far (other than Mount Fuji 富士山, of course).

Japan Trip Day 4: Communing with the Kami 日本旅行６月３日

On Tuesday morning I walked from my hotel about 15 minutes to Matsue Shinji-ko Onsen Station 松江しんじ湖温泉駅, got on the Ichibata Line 一畑電車 and rode the train to Izumo Taisha-mae Station 出雲大社前駅 in order to visit, you guessed it, Izumo Taisha Shrine 出雲大社. Izumo Taisha is Japan's second most important Shintō 神道 shrine after Ise-jingū 伊勢神宮. The approach is marked by two torii 鳥居 gateways, a large concrete one to the left when you exit the station, and a more aesthetically-pleasing wooden one in the opposite direction, which indicates the entrance to the forested grounds of the shrine.

The first prominent building you see upon entering the main grounds of the shrine is the Oracle Hall, noted for its giant shimenawa 注連縄 rope, used for ritual purification purposes.

After seeing the displays in the nearby treasure hall, I walked over to the Honden, or inner shrine, which dates from 1744, and is 24 meters (79 feet) high, making it the tallest such shrine structure in Japan. Most people, myself included, can't walk through the Eight-Legged East Gate entrance to go inside, unless we've paid to take part in a ceremony, which I didn't (but which many others did, judging from the number of groups of formally-dressed people patiently waiting their turns to visit the Honden). It is allowed, however, to look through the fence to the inner courtyard, and unlike at Ise, it's possible to walk around the perimeter of the Honden, and get a good look at the architecture, which is considered to be of a purely Japanese style, untainted by any "continental" (read "Chinese") influences.

 

A tree covered in omikuji おみくじ fortune-telling papers.

The original Honden was supposedly twice as high as the present structure, and was built on high posts to the point that it was allegedly a meter higher than the Tōdai-ji Temple 東大寺 in Nara 奈良, the world's tallest wooden building. There was a small museum across the road from the wooden torii that had a display of what the Honden used to look like:

Though it seems hard to believe, apparently the remains of large wooden posts have been unearthed on the grounds of Izumo Taisha that lend credence to the theory. The next time the Honden is rebuilt, the shrine might want to consider going back to the original design!

After lunch near the shrine, my next plan was to rent a bicycle at the train station, and ride it out to the Hino-misaki cape 日御碕. According to one of the two guidebooks I had with me (and which shall remain anonymous), it was a half-hour ride to the cape. However, when I explained what I wanted to do to the woman at the information counter at the station, both she and the station master strongly discouraged me from doing so, saying it would be both quicker and safer to take a bus. I'm glad I went along with their reasoning, because the road was uphill and narrow, and definitely wouldn't have been much fun on a bike.

 

What one does when waiting for a bus.

The bus trip to Hino-misaki took about 20 minutes, and the two main attractions there are Hinomisaki-jinja 日御碕神社 and a lighthouse. The shrine dates from 1644, and was a lot quieter, while simultaneously less solemn, than Izumo Taisha.

The lighthouse was built in 1903, and stands 44 meters (144 feet) high.

The view from the top of the surroundings and the Sea of Japan 日本海 were worth the walk up the steep spiral staircase inside, but compared to the relatively calm conditions on the ground, the wind was fierce. You can get an idea from this video I shot walking around the top:

 Hino-misaki lighthouse

After spending about 90 minutes walking around the cape and admiring the ocean scenery, I got another bus back to Izumo Taisha-mae Station, and then the train back to Matsue. Back in the city, I had dinner at a restaurant in the Ichibata Department Store 一畑デパート next to JR Matsue Station 松江駅. I thought about going out for a drink somewhere afterwards, but considering that I was planning to get around 5am the next morning, I decided to return to my hotel and get some sleep.

Japan Trip Day 3: Be careful what you wish for 日本旅行６月２日

If trying to find somewhere to eat dinner on a Sunday evening wasn’t easy in Kurayoshi 倉吉, trying to get breakfast at 7 in the morning was even more of a challenge, especially near the train station. Unlike the hotel in Namba 難波, the place where I stayed in Kurayoshi didn’t offer breakfast, so I ended up paying ￥900 ($8.50 or NT260) for an all-you-can-eat buffet spread at Kurayoshi’s swankiest hotel, across the street from the bus terminal. It may have been a little pricey, but they did have cereal, and I made sure to get my yen’s worth before catching the 7:40am bus to Sambutsu-ji Temple 三仏寺 on Mount Mitoku 三徳山, and the climb up to the Nageire-dō 投入堂.

The trip didn’t get off to an auspicious start. I missed the bus stop, and had to walk a few hundred meters back down the road to find the entrance to the temple. Then I came in for a big surprise when I was told I couldn’t climb up to Nageire-dō alone! It turns out a few months previously, a solo hiker died in an accident on the trail, and the local police instructed the temple that a minimum of two people was necessary to hike up the mountain from that time on. Needless to say, I was somewhat disappointed, especially as Sambutsu-ji wasn’t that interesting in itself. Eventually, however, a retired couple from Tōkyō 東京, a Mr. and Mrs. Hasegawa, came along with the intention of hiking up to Nageire-dō, and they very graciously allowed me to tag along.

It wasn’t long before the old adage about being careful what you wish for started to come true. Though it took less than an hour to reach the structure, the trek uphill was treacherous, and I started to understand why solo hiking was discouraged. The route consisted of twisted roots, narrow rock outcroppings and ledges, slippery tracks and, in one case, a chain to get over some boulders.

At one point, we stopped at a small building perched on a boulder called Monju-dō 文殊堂. The view was great, but the ledge of the structure sloped downwards, and there was the constant pull of gravity that had everyone clinging to the side of the small temple as we worked our way around.

But when we reached the Nageire-dō, all the effort became worthwhile. It’s an amazing work of engineering, and apparently no one is sure how it was constructed. I certainly couldn’t see how it was done. According to legend, the founder of Shugendō 修験道, En-no-Gyōja 役行角 , was the one who put it up here. Whatever the case, Nageire-dō dates back to the 11th or 12th centuries, and is certainly an impressive sight.

The walk back down was even more hazardous than the hike up, and both of the Hasegawas took tumbles, though fortunately without injury. After thanking them for letting me come along, I said my goodbyes, and returned by bus to Kurayoshi.

Following lunch at the station, I took advantage of the free bicycles available for tourists, and rode for a half-hour to the Akagawara 赤瓦 area, and in particular, Shirokabe-dozō-gun 白壁土蔵郡, an area of Edo- 江戸時代 and Meiji-period 明治時代 black-and-white storehouses along a small river that have been converted to souvenir and craft shops.

It was all very picturesque, and while I was there, some kind of ceremony involving a lion dance 獅子舞 was being held. The dancers were going to different shops, where they received an envelope (no doubt filled with cash) from the shopkeeper, and then proceeded to perform what I assume was some form of ritual to ensure prosperity. Here’s a short video I made of one of the performances:

Akagawara lion dance 

While in Akagawara, I took time out to sample one of the local microbrews 地ビール, a Pilsner ピルスナー made by the Kurayoshi Beer 倉吉麦酒 brewery. Japan, in recent years, has seen a growth in the number of locally-brewed suds, and I really enjoyed this one. In Taiwan, by contrast, beer is still under the control of a government monopoly, and the imaginatively-named Taiwan Beer resembles Budweiser バドワイザー both in taste, and in market demographics, being the choice of Taiwanese good ol’ boys. My wife drinks it too – through a straw.

After spending some time in Shirokabe-dozō-gun, and then taking a walk through nearby Utsubuki Park 打吹公園 (and climbing the small mountain there, Utsubukiyama 打吹山, to get a view of the area), it was time to return the bike, and say so long to Kurayoshi. The next stop was Matsue 松江, the capital of Shimane Prefecture 島根県, where I arrived around 6:15 after a 90-minute train ride. Following dinner at Matsue Station, and a short bus ride to my hotel, the Matsue City Hotel 松江シティホテル (a funky old hotel featuring displays of clocks on every floor), it was time to call it a night.

Japan Trip Day 2: Goin' up the country 日本旅行６月１日

I was generally very fortunate when it came to weather while in Japan. Though it did rain at times in the places that I visited, I only had to use my umbrella once, and not for very long at that. For the most part, I had clear, blue skies, like on Sunday morning. Here was the view from the the Hotel Nissei ニッセイ when I went downstairs to have breakfast:

After checkout, I took the train to Ashiharabashi 芦原橋 Station, and visited Liberty Ōsaka/Ōsaka Human Rights Museum リバティおおさか大阪人権博物館. Japanese may pride themselves on being a "homogeneous" 同種 nation, but as this museum makes abundantly clear, the reality is quite different. The exhibits cover the difficulties faced (and the progress made) by resident Koreans 在日コリアン, Okinawans 琉球民族, the Ainu アイヌ, women, gays and lesbians, people with disabilities, people with HIV/AIDS, survivors of Hansen's Disease ハンセン病, the homeless, Burakumin 部落民, and victims of pollution, including Minamata Disease 水俣病. The photos of the latter group, in particular, were very sad to see. Liberty Osaka is very sobering in that it reveals just how many people have been left out of the so-called "Japanese Miracle". At the same time, it is encouraging that these groups have not just accepted their lot in Japanese society, but have organized themselves to demand what is rightfully theirs, including going to court. During the week I was there, the Japanese Supreme Court 最高裁 ruled that:

"...a clause stating that the parents of children born to foreign mothers and Japanese fathers must be married for the children to be recognized as Japanese is unconstitutional, as well as the clause that only grants nationality if the Japanese father, even in out-of-wedlock cases, comes forward before a child is born, but not after."

(http://search.japantimes.co.jp/cgi-bin/nn20080606a5.html)

while the Diet 国会:

"...unanimously passed a resolution that recognizes (the Ainu) as indigenous people of Japan."

(http://search.japantimes.co.jp/cgi-bin/nn20080607a1.html)

Two displays, in particular, at the museum caught my eye. On the left is an example of a typical parcel sent from Okinawa 沖縄 to the Japanese mainland while the former was under American occupation. The Spam, Wrigley's, Snickers and Planters Peanuts all show the extent of American influence on the Ryūkyūan people. The picture on the right is of a display of drums made by Buraku craftsmen. While the quality is excellent, it does reveal how the Burakumin have been restricted to doing such work as a result of mainstream prejudice, a practice which seems to have continued into the present day.

After the museum, I headed to JR Ōsaka Station 大阪駅, where, following lunch, I got on the first of six trains for the nearly 5 1/2-hour ride from Ōsaka to Kurayoshi 倉吉, in Tottori Prefecture 鳥取県, where I was to spend Sunday night. The route I took first went west, but at Kami-gōri 上郡, the train cut across the heart of Honshū, all the way to Tottori 鳥取 on the Sea of Japan 日本海 side, from where I continued on to Kurayoshi. Here's a photo of the train that took me from Kami-gōri to Chizu 智頭 (about halfway to Tottori):

I had considered buying a Japan Rail Pass ジャパンレールパス before leaving Taiwan, but after doing some calculating, I came to the conclusion that it would be cheaper to travel via local trains. Sure, it was slow going, but the scenery was fascinating, especially the numerous little towns and villages the trains passed through. One thing that was clear from the train window was the extent of depopulation 過疎 in the Japanese countryside. I saw many elderly people out and about, but not many signs of children. Very few homes seemed to have children's clothes being hung out to dry, or kids bikes parked in the driveway, or toys scattered about the yard. (It was also clear yet again on the long train ride just how big of a country Japan really is. This would surprise most Japanese, who are under the impression they live on a "small" island. True, when compared to countries such as the USA, Canada or Australia, Japan seems cramped and overcrowded. While I never completely accepted the idea that Japan was "small", it wasn't until moving to Taiwan that it really struck me that this is a huge country. All things are relative in the end.)

Kurayoshi, with a population of around 50,000, wasn't exactly a teeming metropolis either. As is the case with many small cities in Japan, it wasn't easy finding an open restaurant, especially on a Sunday evening (though it didn't take too long to find an okonimiyaki お好み焼き place not far from the station that was still serving customers). Had I wanted something to drink, on the other hand, I would've had too many options from which to choose, including at least one joint that proudly boasted of its Southeast Asian hostesses. However, Monday was going to be a busy day, so I went back to my hotel after dinner, and called it an early night.