Chūgoku Trip: Day 6 ４月２３日

Day 5

Breakfast at the Hostel Setoda Tarumi Onsen. My love of Japanese cuisine usually doesn't extend to the first meals of the mornings as I'm not a big fan of sitting down to grilled fish and pickled vegetables soon after getting up, but for a couple of times out of the year I'm OK with the above.

Back in 1971, Donald Richie wrote a book about his travels through the Inland Sea 瀬戸内海, titled, appropriately enough, The Inland Sea. It was a nostalgic look at a less-developed part of Japan that was already at that time feeling the effects of the country's rapid economic growth. Still, the islands have remained a relative backwater compared with the rest of the archipelago. I passed through these parts briefly back in the summer of 1990 when I took a ferry from Imabari 今治 on the island of Shikoku 四国 to Hiroshima 広島 on the main island of Honshū 本州. On this day, the sixth day of my visit, I intended to explore at least one of them, Ōmishima 大三島, on the seat of a rented bicycle.

The initiates in the cult of the Taiwan Cyclists, who should get out of the island more often (see Tip #9), would enjoy the possibilities (not to mention the infrastructure) waiting to be explored in Japan. For the Inland Sea, it's possible to ride along the Shimanami Highway しまなみ海道. The distance isn't very long (the whole route could probably be done in 7-8 hours just on a normal bicycle), but there are numerous possibilities for detours to the various islands that are passed along the way. There's nothing in Taiwan that even begins to compare with the Shimanami HIghway. 

In my case, I only followed the highway route long enough to cross the waters from Ikuchi-jima Island 生口島, where I was staying, to Ōmishima. My journey began around 9am, with the short walk from my hostel to Sunset Beach サンセットビーチ, site of the nearest rental facility. The system is simple, and well-organized. Daylong rentals are ¥500 ($6.25), plus a ¥1000 ($12.50) deposit. If you return your bike to where you rented it from, the deposit is refunded to you. If you choose to drop off the bicycle at another station along the route, the deposit covers the relocation charges. The cycles themselves are hardly performance bikes, being what the Japanese call Mamachari ママチャリ, or a "Mother's chariot", meaning those two-wheelers with the metal basket in front used by homemakers on their daily shopping rounds. But here being in Japan, the bikes are in excellent condition, and the only problems I had were due to my physical limitations and not those of my chariot.

So by 9:20 I was off on the road to Ōmishima. It wasn't long before the Tatara Bridge 多々羅大橋 came into view:

What you need to watch out for in these parts of the woods:

Getting ready to cross to the other side. For cyclists, it was a mere ¥100 ($1.25) to ride across:

The view from the Ōmishima side:

The main reason for choosing to visit Ōmishima (other than the obvious fact it was the closest island to where I was staying) was to pay my respects at the Ōyamazumi-jinja Shintō shrine 大山祇神社. The shrine's origins date back to the 12th century, when it began to be used as a place of worship for Japanese pirates 倭寇, until they were brought to heel by the warlord Toyotomi Hideyoshi 豊臣秀吉 in the 16th century:

On the shrine grounds is a 2600 year-old camphor tree:

The main hall dates from the Muromachi period 室町時代 (1338-1573):

There is always time to do a bit of shopping. Pictured below are an ema 絵馬, a wooden plaque used to write requests to the gods; an amulet お守り for protection from traffic accidents (an absolute necessity in Taiwan!); and an entrance ticket to three on-site museums:

The three museums were the Shiyōden 紫陽殿, Kokuhōkan 国宝館 and Kaiji Hakubutsu-kan 海事博物館. The first two contain what is probably Japan's largest collection of armor and swords from the feudal period (photography wasn't allowed, but the picture on the entrance ticket gives a good idea of what is on display). Most guidebooks describe the displays as being rather dry, but they do bring out the inner samurai 侍 in all of us. The latter museum showcases both a research vessel called the Hayama-maru 葉山丸 and many of the animal and plant specimens it collected on its voyages through the Inland Sea. The ship was commissioned by none other than Emperor Hirohito 裕仁, who probably wished he could have been a marine biologist instead of a cloistered monarch:

Bidding farewell to the kamisama 神様, I left the shrine and walked across the street to a restaurant, where I eagerly dug into a tonkatsu teishoku set meal 豚カツ定食, washed down with the absolutely necessary bottle of beer. That's how this cyclist watches his protein intake!:

After Ōyamazumi-jinja, there was nothing more to do on Ōmishima except explore the southwestern part of the island at a leisurely pace for the remainder of the afternoon. Which is exactly what I did. 

The quiet port town (hell, the whole island is quiet) of Miyaura 宮浦:

I couldn't have asked for better weather, though less wind and fewer hills would've been appreciated:

Koinobori 鯉幟 flutter in said breeze:

At one point, I stopped off at the Tokoro Museum ところミュージアム大三島 to see the sculpture on display, and to take a toilet break. This day being a Monday, however, the museum was closed (most are in Japan on Mondays, unless the Monday is a national holiday, in which case the museums will not be open on the following Tuesday). The staffer manning the desk did unlock the bathroom so that I could use it, however, and she also let me walk around to the back of the building to check the great ocean views. If I keep hearing how uniquely kind the Taiwanese are...:

Just down the road from the Tokoro Museum was another museum, this one dedicated to the architect Toyō Itō 伊東豊雄, known in Taiwan for Kaohsiung's 高雄 World Games Stadium 國家體育場, as well as the design for the mayor of Taichung's 台中 vainglorious opera house project. This place was also closed, but commanded a scenic viewpoint:

Had it been summer, I would've stopped off at some of the small deserted beaches along the road to have a swim and to check out the underwater sea life with my prescription diving mask. Not in April, however:

A ship passes by, with the world's longest suspension bridge, the Kurushima-kaikyō 来島海峡大橋, looming in the far distance. It marks one end of the Shimanami Highway:

The generally balmy weather of the Inland Sea is ripe for fruit cultivation:

OK, I admit it - I got lucky with this shot. I was expecting the bird to hold still while I took the picture:

One of the numerous small islands of the Inland Sea:

Eventually, I came full circle back to the Tatara Bridge, completing the loop around the southwestern half of the island. Before crossing back to Ikuchi-jima, I walked up a steep staircase to an observatory for one final look:

At this point, the panorama function on my camera started to act up for some mysterious reason, so I made a short video instead:

I had the bike back to its Sunset Beach rental outlet before 4:30 pm, making for a ride of about seven hours in total (and getting my ¥1000 refunded to me by doing so). With time to kill before dinner back at the hostel, I took a walk around. This is the view looking back at Sunset Beach - the white building in the center was the place where I rented the bicycle, while the yellow sculpture is one of a series of art installations located around Ikuchi-jima:

It ain't called "Sunset Beach" for nothin':

Monday night's dinner. I shared the table with a retired couple from Fukuyama 福山 in Hiroshima Prefecture 広島県 who were on a brief fishing swing through the area. The husband had been involved in "fish propagation" during his career, which saw him and his wife living in Papua New Guinea and Malawi. I may end up in either place myself at some point in the future:

Needless to say, the bath felt great:

Chūgoku Trip: Day 5 ４月２２日

Day 4

Rough Guide calls it "enchanting", but according to Lonely Planet, it's "gritty". I naturally found Onomichi 尾道 to be somewhere in between those two adjectives. The fifth day of my Japan trip began by checking out of the Miyako Ryokan 都旅館 at around nine in the morning to begin my exploration of this gritty, yet at times enchanting, seaport town:

Onomichi is noted for its temple walk, which starts from the train station and covers 25 temples in the course of a single day. Now I'm a great admirer of the beauty of Japanese Buddhist temples, but a quarter of a hundred is simply overkill - it wouldn't be long before your eyes started to glaze over, and every temple began looking the same. So I chose instead to focus on a handful of fine examples instead of doing the whole tour. 

I began by taking a bus from the station to Nagaeguchi 長江口, where a convenient gondola lift saved me the trouble of walking up a long series of stone steps to reach Senkōji-kōen Park 千光時公園, where the views looking down on the town below, across to the island of Mukai-shima 向島 and out toward the Inland Sea 瀬戸内海 compensated greatly for the lousy weather that I would have for most of the day:

After getting my fill of the view, I made the short descent to the park's namesake, Senkō-ji Temple 千光時, located just under the gondola lift station. In recognition of the spending power of Japan's sizable population of single, employed women who still live at home, the temple offered cute, heart-shaped votive plaques known as ema 絵馬 to be used in the beseeching of the gods. The temple also had a number of Jizō 地蔵菩薩 statues, which, knowing his role as the guardian deity of dead children, I've always found both hauntingly disturbing and sadly comforting, even more so now that I'm a father:

   

Continuing downhill from the temple, I came across one of those scenes that you only see in Japan, courtesy of the pagoda at Tennei-ji Temple 天寧時:

On through the narrow streets I rambled...:

...to my next temple of choice, Fukuzen-ji 福善時. I was impressed with both the carvings on the main gate and the spreading pine tree on its grounds:

The view looking back across to Senkō-ji wasn't bad, either:

Saikoku-ji 西国時 was up next. The largest temple complex in Onomichi is noted for the giant straw sandals that hang on the entrance gate:

The main hall of the temple, with a pagoda in the background...:

...and a cherry tree, with a pagoda in the background:

If you hadn't noticed by now, Onomichi is a pretty hilly place:

The last stop before lunch was Jōdo-ji 浄土時. Rough Guide claimed there was a Zen garden that could be seen behind the main hall, but the attendant selling charms and amulets didn't seem to know anything about that, and a sign in Japanese out front noted that the temple didn't have any "parks" 公園ではありません:

Following a much-needed lunch break of yakisoba 焼きそば and beer, I was back on the sightseeing trail again. In addition to all the temples, Onomichi also has a reputation as a literary town. There are the homes of famous writers than can be visited, such as The Old House of Naoya Shiga 志賀直哉旧居, where seeing as I was the only one there and that I could speak a smattering of passable Japanese, the attendant lifted up the bamboo bar and let me walk across the tatami 畳 mat floor to check out the view:

Onomichi also has a "literary path" 文学のこみち. The words of famous writers are inscribed on stone monuments along the path, but unless you are familiar with the scribes, and/or are good at reading cursive Japanese (which I'm not), you're basically just walking path stones with scribblings on them:

After a long, but enjoyable, morning and afternoon of walking up and down the stone steps of Onomichi, I descended to sea-level, passing through the same covered shopping arcade I wandered around the previous evening:

Collecting my bag from a coin locker outside Onomichi Station 尾道駅, I bought a ticket for the 4:30pm ferry for the 40-minute ride to my next stop, the Inland Sea island of Ikuchi-jima 生口島. I was picked up at the ferry port by one of the owners of my accommodation for the next two evenings, the Setoda Shimanami Guest House 瀬戸田しまなみゲストハウス, aka Hostel Setoda Tarumi Onsen. ¥4800 ($60) will get you two meals, access to an onsen 温泉 or hot-spring bath, and in my case, a spacious tatami-mat room overlooking a private strip of beach. The view from my room made me wish I had been able to travel here in the summer, as I had originally planned:

Following a short walk before dinner...:

...the evening meal was served, washed down with a bottle of Onomichi Beer that I had purchased from a supermarket before boarding the ferry:

A relaxing hot bath ensued, and then it was time for bed. It had been a busy but fun day, and I needed my rest for the bike ride I was planning for the next day.

Chūgoku Trip: Day 4 ４月２１日

Day 3

My last day in Hiroshima City 広島市 began with a 50-minute bus ride out of it, to the neighboring city of Iwakuni 岩国 in the neighboring prefecture of Yamaguchi 山口県. Iwakuni's main drawing card is a bridge, Kintai-kyō 錦帯橋. A five-arched wooden structure spanned a stretch of the Nishiki-gawa River 錦川 from 1674 to 1950, when it was destroyed in a typhoon. The current bridge is a 1953 reconstruction that is no less beautiful:

There's more to Iwakuni than just a bridge, however. On the other side of the river are some fine old samurai 侍 houses, such as the Nagaya-mon 長屋門, which looks much more impressive in person than the photo I took of it:

Other places to check out in Iwakuni included Kikkō-kōen Park 吉香公園, laid out on the estate on the former feudal rulers...:

...and the Mekata Family Residence 旧目加田家住宅, which couldn't be entered, but could be walked around outside for free:

Iwakuni is also noted for its white (albino) snakes, which are found nowhere else in Japan. For a mere ¥100 ($1.25), the White Snake Viewing Facility 白蛇観覧所 offered up several of these unique reptilian beauties for your serpentine pleasure:

Museums? Iwakuni has 'em too. The Chōko-kan 徴古館 is a free-of-charge local history museum with displays on Iwakuni's past, especially the area's role in the battles of the Meiji Restoration 明治維新:

Tres Japonais, non?

In addition to bridges, parks, samurai houses and history museums, Iwakuni also boasts a castle 岩国城, but in this case, the building is merely a 1960 reconstruction of the original, which was dismantled in 1608 when the Tokugawa shōgunate 江戸幕府 decreed that there should be only one castle in each province. Reconstructed modern castles are usually little more than glorified local history museums, and can often be safely skipped. Iwakuni's castle, however, is perched on a prime mountaintop location, which can be reached by a gondola lift. Real tourists like myself, though, will opt for the 30-minute uphill trek to reach the top (and, cheap bastards that we are, save a few yen in the process):

Though I didn't bother going into Iwakuni-jō, the views from the top made the effort to get there all the worthwhile:

Another view of Kintai-kyō from the slighter lower-in-elevation gondola station:

A busy morning of sightseeing, and the walk to and from the castle, had left me pretty hungry at this point. Iwakuni naturally had its noted cuisine, in this case Iwakuni-zushi 岩国寿司, blocks of vinegared rice topped with cooked fish and vegetables, and lunch certainly didn't disappoint:

Renkon れんこん, aka deep-fried lotus root is another local specialty, which I tried in the form of a croquette レンコンコロッケ:

 

The last thing I did sightseeing-wise in Iwakuni was to walk along the modern Kinjō-kyō Bridge 錦城橋 to get a different perspective on Kintai-kyō. Between June and August, the river around the bridge is used for cormorant fishing 鵜飼:

With almost an hour to wait until the next bus back to Hiroshima, I killed the time by drinking one of the local craft beers, a Pale Ale. What I love about liquor stores in tourist spots in Japan is that they often will let you drink your purchase right there on the premises:

Back in Hiroshima and on the way to retrieve my bag from the hotel. The city is full of signs showing what a particular spot looked like in the aftermath of the atomic bombing. In the picture below, the marker explains what happened to the original Fukuya Department Store 福屋本店 (the newer one can be seen across the street) - the original building withstood the blast (though the contents inside were knocked around), but the ensuing fires gutted the store's interior and killed most of the employees working there. In Hiroshima, history was never very far away:

Reluctantly, it was time to bid farewell to Hiroshima and take the train to my next destination, Onomichi 尾道. Upon exiting Onomichi Station 尾道駅, I naturally had to have a bowl of Onomichi Rāmen noodles 尾道ラーメン for dinner:

After checking in to my night's accommodation, the Miyako Ryokan 都旅館, I took a long walk through the city's long but deserted covered shopping arcade (either Onomichi was suffering the effects of Japan's stagnant economy, or there just isn't much to do on a Saturday night there), and the surprisingly large entertainment district:

 

Onomichi's landmark, the statue of famed local writer Hayashi Fumiko 林芙美子, may have looked better in the daylight, but I liked this shot for capturing the passing train in the background: