Trip to Japan: Day 5 - Going Straight ５月２８日

Shimonoseki 下関 is a city of 290,000 people, lying at the southwestern tip of the island of Honshū 本州 and facing both the Tsushima 対馬海峡 and Kanmon Straits 関門海峡. The city is known for fugu フグ and (unfortunately) whaling, and as a ferry connection for trips to South Korea, but my interest was drawn by its setting for one of the most important moments in Japanese history. Arriving by train at Shimonoseki Station 下関駅 just before 11am, I boarded a bus for my first destination, Akama-jingū 赤間神宮. This Shintō 神道 shrine is dedicated to Antoku 安徳天皇, the child emperor who drowned at the conclusion of the Battle of Dannoura 壇ノ浦の戦い in 1185, which occurred in the straits that the shrine overlooks. The first thing you notice at Akama-jingū is the Suiten-mon 水天門, a Chinese-style arched gate that only dates from 1958, when the shrine was rebuilt after being damaged in the Second World War. The main worship hall is unusual in that there are two shallow pools of water on either side of the altar:

Akama-jingū was originally a Buddhist temple built to appease the souls of the dead Taira 平氏 warriors killed in the Battle of Dannoura, and a small graveyard to the left of the worship hall still contains fourteen of their graves. There is also a statue of Hōichi Miminashi 耳なし芳一, aka "earless Hōichi", made famous in a ghost story related by Lafcadio Hearn 小泉八雲:

Anyone with an interest in Taiwanese history would want to pay a quick visit next door to the shrine. The Sino-Japan Peace Treaty Memorial Hall 日清講和記念館 is a small museum housed in a building that dates from 1936. It recreates the room where the Treaty of Shimonoseki 下関条約 was signed, ending the Sino-Japanese War of 1894-5 and ceding Taiwan to Japan. The actual agreement was signed at the Shumpanrō Hotel 春帆楼 behind the hall, but the museum does contain the actual furniture and utensils used during the conference. What would have become of Taiwan had the Japanese been able to retain control after the war? Would it now be Japan's 48th prefecture, or would it be some kind of commonwealth, with Japan responsible for foreign affairs and defense?

Leaving the hall, I walked along the main road, and passed under the Kammon Bridge 関門橋, which links Honshū with Kyūshū 九州. A small plaque and a couple of warrior statues mark the spot of the naval battle in which the Minamoto 源氏 defeated the last of the Taira, bringing both the Gempei War 治承・寿永の乱 and the Heian era 平安時代 to an end, and ushering in the beginning of military rule by shōguns 将軍, or "bakufu" 幕府.

From here, I walked across to the Kyūshū side, using a 700 meter (2300 feet)-long pedestrian tunnel running under the straits to Moji 門司:

The oden おでん lunch and can of beer that I had in a little shack sitting in the shadows of the bridge were pretty welcome by this point!

Returning via the tunnel to the Honshū side again, I ambled over to Hinoyama 火の山, a 268-meter (879 feet) mountain with a commanding view over the strait. I was expecting to walk up to the top, as both my Lonely Planet and Rough Guide books said that the cable car there was only in operation during the months of July and August, but to my surprise it was working! Giving my feet a much-needed rest, I took the cable car to the top, and was greeted with a fantastic vista of the whole of the Kammon Straits and much of the city of Shimonoseki:

View from Hinoyama

After checking out the views, I took the cable car back down. The operator said I bore a resemblance to Tom Cruise! When I pointed out that Cruise is a runt, she replied that she meant I was handsome like him. Flattery will get you everywhere with me! I then hopped on a bus, and continued along the seaside highway to my last sightseeing stop for the day, the Chōfu-teien 長府庭園 garden in Chōfu 長府. The garden only dates from the early years of the 20th century, but the Rough Guide aptly describes it as "elegant", plus it contains my dream Japanese house. Too bad my digital camera couldn't do the grounds justice:

The Chōfu area is noted for its samurai 侍 houses, but it was getting late in the afternoon, so, with some regret, I got back on the bus and returned to central Shimonoseki. After checking my email at the Yamaguchi International Exchange Association, in the Kaikyō-yume Tower 海峡ゆめタワー complex (seen in the background, behind the old Western-style building), I finished off my day in Shimonoseki by having a yakisoba 焼きそば dinner set in a shopping mall restaurant next to the train station. The portions were generous to say the least, and good value at ￥630 ($6.50/NT213), but I was only just able to clean my plate (and drain the beer bottle). I must have weighed down the train on the ride back to Hakata 博多!

Trip to Japan: Day 4 - Flying Plums ５月２７日

This day's excursion was to Dazaifu 太宰府, located on the outskirts of Fukuoka 福岡, 30 minutes or so on the Nishitetsu 西鉄 train line. At one time it was the administrative center for the island of Kyūshū 九州, and later a place of exile for losers of the political infighting at the Imperial court in Kyōto 京都. Now, Dazaifu is something of a quiet town noted for the Temman-gū 天満宮, dedicated to Sugawara-no-Michizane 菅原道真, the most noted of all the exiles.

The shrine is located a short walk from the train station along Tenjin-sama-dōri. Upon reaching the shrine grounds, there is allegorical stone bridge to be crossed, called Taiko-bashi 太鼓橋. The first arch is the steepest, and symbolizes the past. The middle section is flat and denotes the present, while the final, gentle arch represents things yet to come. At the end of the bridge is a two-story leading to a courtyard.

Dazaifu

The main worship hall was built in 1591 and is very colorful in its bright red and gold lacquer. Unfortunately, my camera couldn't capture the colors very well on this dark, overcast day:

Perhaps because Tenjin 天神 is the guardian deity of scholars, there were a lot of school groups visiting the shrine that day (then again, it could have just been an ordinary school trip). Inside the worship hall, a ceremony of some kind was being held. In front of the building, and to the right, stood a twisted plum tree said to be over a thousand years old. The story goes that tree uprooted itself from Michizane's Kyōto garden the night before his departure for Dazaifu, and flew ahead of him to this spot.

From the shrine grounds, I hopped on an escalator that cut through some rock and emerged in front of the Kyūshū National Museum 九州国立博物館. Architecturally speaking, it didn't really mesh well with Dazaifu's more traditional sights, but the contents were excellent. The day I visited, there was a special exhibition on Tibetan treasures, which was well worth the ￥1300 ($14/NT440) ticket price. But the permanent exhibition was just as good, focusing on Japan's ties to the Asian continent, and the influence they have had on Japanese art and culture. The excellent (and free) English audio guide really helped to explain the intention of the curators.

Leaving the museum, I returned to Temman-gū and had a katsudon カツ丼 set lunch at a restaurant on the grounds. Afterward, it was a short walk to a temple called Kōmyōzen-ji 光明禅寺. This quiet temple boasted two gardens, one in the front and the other in the back. Everything you ever imagined about a Japanese garden was there - white sand, moss, boulders and maple trees. It must be an amazing sight in fall, but even in late May the scene was beautiful, and I spent some time here taking in the view and walking around the temple.

Leaving the temple and walking back along Tenjin-sama-dōri, I paused long enough to sample umegae-mochi 梅が枝餅, the local treat. Then I proceeded to walk to the other end of Dazaifu to visit two other old Buddhist temples. Much of the walk was alongside a canal, where the sight of this bird (a heron?) trying to swallow a large goldfish or carp drew a small crowd of onlookers:

The first temple I visited was Kanzeon-ji 観世音寺, founded in 746, and at one time the largest temple in Kyūshū. Now, there are only a few buildings (17th century), but the adjacent treasure house contains a dozen or so Buddhist images dating in age from between 750 and 1300 years old. Photography naturally wasn't allowed, but the informative English booklet that came with the admission ticket did a lot to enhance the experience of seeing these powerful sculptures up close (there were no glass cases to separate the images from the viewers).

The last temple I visited this day was conveniently located next door. Kaidan-in 戒壇院 dates from the late eighth century, and its interior held a statue of an eleven-headed Kannon 観音, crafted during the Heian period 平安時代 (794-1185). Coming from a country like the USA with its relatively short history, and living on an island like Taiwan, where it's rare to find things older than a couple of centuries, I often myself in awe in Japan at how artifacts and structures of great antiquity comfortably exist in the world's second largest economy.

By this time it was late in the afternoon, and I was pretty much finished with Dazaifu. Returning to the train station, I took the train to Nishitetsu-Futsukaichi Station 西鉄二日市駅, but instead of changing trains there for the return trip to Fukuoka, I exited and walked to JR Futsukaichi Station 二日市駅. Following a meal of chicken curried rice and beer, I then continued on foot past the station to the Futsukaichi Onsen 二日市温泉 hot spring area. There, I entered the Gozen-yu 御前湯 public bath, paid the ￥200 ($2.10/NT70) fee and proceeded to get naked with a bunch of strangers, none of whom seemed the least bit fazed to find a hairy barbarian in their midst. The waters felt great after a long day of walking around, and the post-bath can of Asahi Super Dry アサヒスーパードライ wasn't too bad, either.

I returned to Fukuoka via JR, and finished the day with a stroll through the Nakasu 中洲 entertainment district, where the mobile street stalls called "yatai" 屋台 had been set up along the southwest bank of the island. In the nearby red light district, it appeared to be business as usual.

Trip to Japan: Day 3 - Completing the Holy Trinity ５月２６日

First it was Haguro-san 羽黒山 in Yamagata-ken 山形県. Then came Omine-san 大峰山 in Nara-ken 奈良県. This day would be Hiko-san's 英彦山 turn, the third in a trinity of mountains linked to Shugendō 修験道. I left my hotel around 6:30 in the morning (let myself out would be more accurate - there was no one at the front desk and the automatic door was turned off at that hour), and approximately two hours and three train transfers later, I arrived at the unmanned Hikosan Station 彦山駅, and waited about 15 minutes for the bus that would take me to the start of the hike.

 

A self-portrait taken on the last leg to Hikosan Station

While waiting for the bus, a taxi pulled up to the stand. If this was Taiwan, the driver would probably have told me a B.S. story about how the bus service had been suspended, or of the bus breaking down, or maybe that the road had been washed away in a typhoon - anything to get me to jump in the back of the cab. This taxi driver, however, just handed me a map of the hiking trail and drove away, and a couple of minutes later, the bus arrived on time. Ain't Japan great?

Armed with the Lonely Planet Hiking in Japan guide , I set out up the trail, which like many others in Japan, was marked by a torii 鳥居. A short climb up the stairs led to the lower shrine of Hiko-san-jinja 英彦山神社.

From the lower shrine, more stairs continued up the mountain to the upper shrine at the top, but I took a right turn instead, walking along a gentle path 1.9 kilometers (1.18 miles) to Tamaya-jinja 玉屋神社, located in a picturesque setting at the base of a cliff:

From here on, though, things would get a lot harder. The next stretch of trail was a 1.4 kilometer (0.87 mile) uphill walk, with the last section involving the use of chains to get over and down a ridge. The attraction here was the Oni-sugi 鬼スギ, a 1200 year-old tree. After checking out the ancient cedar, I took a side trail up to another Shintō 神道 shrine built under a cliff. This one was called Daiminami-jinja 大南神社, and it was possible to open the door and go inside. It was a peaceful moment, communing with the 神...and the giant Japanese hornet スズメバチ I inadvertently let inside when I entered.

The fun really started after leaving the shrine. It was 1.1 kilometers (0.7 miles) of strait uphill climbing, much of it over boulders and tree roots, and requiring the use of chains, before reaching Minami-dake 南岳. From there, it was 200 meters (660 feet) to the next peak, which happened to be the upper shrine of Hiko-san-jinja. By this point, my Portland Trail Blazers T-shirt was so soaked with my sweat, and creating such a stench, that I was walking shirtless (though I donned more respectful attire again before reaching the shrine structure).

The buildings of the upper shrine weren't particularly attractive, no doubt due to the fact that the structure is regularly rebuilt and the materials have to brought in by helicopter. Following a conversation about the geography of the state of California with two men taking a break behind the jinja, I continued on to Kita-dake 北岳, but not before taking a self-portrait in front of a marker indicating the 1200-meter (3937-foot) altitude:

By this point, the sun had disappeared, and ominous-looking dark clouds were drifting over the mountain. I could have chosen to walk down the main trail leading back to the lower shrine, but I decided to press on, walking 800 meters (0.5 miles) along a thankfully easier path to Kita-dake. From there on, however, the descent would become very steep. The overcast weather limited the views of the nearby mountains, but it was still pretty scenic:

It took a long time to get down to Takasumi-jinja 高住神社. The path was almost entirely made up of stones (not stone steps), and in some places, it was necessary to keep an eye out for the red ribbons tied to trees denoting the proper route to take. The forest scenery, however, more than made up for the difficulties:

Takasumi-jinja was yet another scenic shrine located in front of a cliff-face, and there were several tourists checking out the beautiful buildings and towering cedars:

It was getting late, however, my leg muscles were feeling the strain and I wanted to get back to the bus stop before the rain started to pour, for the sounds of thunder in the mountain above were becoming louder and more frequent. It was more than 2.5 kilometers (1.55 miles) from the shrine back to the bus stop, but the route was mostly on a level path through a lovely stretch of forest. Before setting off, I used the bathroom at the shrine parking lot, where there was an interesting looking insect crawling around the inside of the wash basin.

In the end, the threatened downpour only amounted to a few drops, and I only had to wait a couple of minutes for the next-to-last bus of the day to take me back to the train station, and the long train ride back to Fukuoka 福岡. Considerate person that I am, I had brought along a change of shirt and shorts to spare my fellow passengers the sweet aroma of my hiking-induced sweat. According to the Lonely Planet guide, I had covered 10 kilometers (6.2 miles). However, the supposed 4-hour duration of the hike turned out to be more like 6.5 hours in my case. Now I'll be the first to admit I'm not the most in-shape of hikers, but I'm no ton o'lard either (and I'm definitely a lot faster than a certain well-known Taiwan-based blogger who has recently caught the cycling bug). Having done several hikes in the LP book, I think I have enough first-hand experience to say their times are overly optimistic. Seeing as the Japan hiking guide is in need of an update anyway, I'd like to throw my two cents in and ask that the next edition not assume that everyone who intends on using the book will be a professional mountaineer.

Arriving back at Hakata Station 博多駅 after 7pm, it was time for a well-deserved, and long-anticipated, dinner of tonkatsu 豚カツ and draft beer 生ビール.

Trip to Japan: Day 2 - Pounding the Pavement ５月２５日

On my first full day in Fukuoka 福岡, I did a lot of walking. In fact, every day of my trip involved a lot of footwork, so much so that the bottoms of my soles are still feeling the effects. Nevertheless, walking around allows you to get a good idea of the layout of a city, and it didn't take long for me to get a good grasp on where things were, especially in relation to my hotel.

I started out after breakfast on Monday by walking from the Hakata Riverside Hotel to Hakata Station 博多駅, the transportation center for Fukuoka. On the way, I poked my head into the Tōchō-ji 東長寺 temple to take a look at the largest wooden Buddha in Japan. It was big, but photos weren't allowed, and I continued down the road to the station. After buying a copy of the Japan Times ジャパンタイムズ from a kiosk inside, I walked back towards the area where my hotel was located, using small streets and getting a little lost before I found my way to the Kami-Kawabata-dōri shopping arcade and the back entrance to Kushida-jinja 櫛田神社, Hakata's principal Shintō 神道 shrine. Although the shrine dates back to 757, the halls are rebuilt every 25 years, so instead I concentrated on the large float, the biggest of 12 that are taken out during the annual Gion Yamakasa festival 博多祇園山笠 the first two weeks of every July. Another point of interest in the shrine grounds was a thousand-year-old gingko イチョウ tree and two stone anchor weights, left behind by the Mongol invasion fleet 元寇.

Leaving the shrine, I crossed the street to the Hakata Machiya Furusato-kan 博多町家ふるさと館, a complex of three buildings. First was a museum with displays devoted to Hakata's popular culture. I couldn't make out what was said on the recordings of the local dialect, but I had no problem donning the headgear of a traditional improvisational comedy known as "Hakata-Niwaka" 博多にわか. The second building contained a weaver's workshop, where one old gentleman was demonstrating traditional silk weaving. The last building was primarily a gift shop, so I got an early start on my souvenir shopping.

Next stop was Canal City キャナルシティ, an urban renewal project that opened in 1996. There are five floors of shops and restaurants, plus two hotels and a movie theater. The color scheme was weird, but somehow beautiful at the same time:

but the real highlight was the canal and, in particular, the water jets show which took place on the hour. The jets reached the fifth-floor, but that didn't seem to faze the window washer in the background:

Canal City

Following lunch at Canal City, I crossed over to Nakasu 中洲, a sandbank in the middle of the Naka-gawa River 那珂川. Fukuoka's notorious entertainment district is noted for the number of bars and restaurants crammed into the small island, as well as its "special" businesses. I inadvertently walked down the worst of the red light district where, even in the middle of a Monday afternoon, gangster-looking touts lined the doorways, looking for customers. Needless to say, I refrained from taking photos and quickly made my way over the river and into Tenjin 天神, Fukuoka's main shopping district. Once safely away from the yakuza ヤクザ, I found my way to ACROS ("Asian Crosslands Over the Sea") Fukuoka アクロス福岡, a combination symphony hall/exhibition space/shopping center. The most interesting feature of this building was its southern exterior, which had been built as a terraced "step garden". Though the top floor observatory was closed, the views on the walk up to the 10th story were good, and all the vegetation gave the structure a Babylonian kind of feel.

The rest of the day was spent wandering around Tenjin, checking my email at the Fukuoka International Association's Rainbow Plaza (8F, IMS Building) and seeing what was on offer in the various department stores and shopping complexes both above and below ground. By the time I walked back to my hotel, my legs were tired but I was starting to understand why an old girlfriend liked Fukuoka so match. The weather forecast on the evening news predicted that Tuesday was going to be the sunniest day of the week, so I decided to get to bed early in preparation for some hiking the next day.

Trip to Japan: Day 1 ５月２４日

I'm back from a one-week stay in the city of Fukuoka 福岡. And while I missed my family, and my feet are sore from all the walking I did, I had a great time in Kyūshū's 九州 largest city, with a population of 1.4 million. Like most Japanese urban centers, Fukuoka isn't a particularly beautiful city, but it's certainly better looking (not to mention cleaner and safer) than any metropolitan area here in Taiwan, including Taipei (Taihoku) 台北. If circumstances were different, Fukuoka would make a nice place to live and work.

There's a lot of history related to Fukuoka. It was the gateway to the Asian mainland in the early years of Japan's history. The Mongol invasions of 1274 and 1281 元寇 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mongol_Invasions_of_Japan) took place close to the modern day borders of the city. During the Edo period 江戸時代 there were two towns, Fukuoka (home of the feudal lord and his castle) and Hakata 博多 (where the ordinary people lived and worked). Today's Fukuoka is once again acting as Japan's channel to the rest of Asia, at least judging from all the Korean writing seen around the city.

I spent my seven nights in Fukuoka staying at the Hakata Riverside Hotel. Despite its status as a budget hotel (only ￥3900 a night - $41 or NT1330), my room wasn't as small as I'd imagined it to be, plus it came with its own shower and bath. And I certainly couldn't complain about the location, as the hotel was a short walk down the Kami-Kawabata shopping arcade 川端通商店街 from the Nakasu-Kawabata subway station 中洲川端駅 . The Canal City shopping center キャナルシティ博多 and Nakasu 中洲 nightlife district were nearby, and the Tenjin 天神 area was a short subway ride (or walk, in my case) away.

One other great thing about Fukuoka is the close proximity of its airport 福岡空港 to the central part of the city. Hakata Station 博多駅, the main train station in Fukuoka, is only two stops from the airport on the subway, while Nakasu-Kawabata and the Tenjin shopping district are only four and six stops away, respectively. My flight didn't get in until just before 9pm on Sunday night, but I was checked-in and in my room before 10:30. You can't do that coming from Narita 成田国際空港 or Kansai 関西国際空港!

For the next week I'll be posting descriptions and photographs of my trip. The first day was a short one, however, so I'll leave you with this picture of a float from the Hakata Gion Yamakasa festival 博多祇園山笠, taken inside the international terminal just after clearing immigration and customs.