A Shrine to Rugby. My travel interests are things like wandering around, art, religion, birds, side streets and other stuff that takes me elsewhere than places tourists are interested in. When I saw a “forest” on the map I couldn’t resist, so topped there on the way to Ginkaku-ji Temple (which is why I got to the On-the-Beaten-Track temple so late.) This was the Tadasu-no-Mori forest, a forested park with a major Shinto shrine and several minor ones. I was fascinated to find a shrine to rugby. I paid a special visit to the shrine in honor of fond memories from the Night of Typhoon Hagibis in 2019. 1
Rugby isn’t just for Brits (click to read)The Rugby World Cup of 2019 Immortalized
I claim no pretence of having any understanding of Shinto, but I’m impressed by its astonishing flexibility. Certainly many feel that their favorite sport embodies the sacred in one way or another—why not just be open about this? “On the tenth of September [of 1910] the deity communed through the vehicle of the “ball” …
The forest struck me as a spot for locals to enjoy, although Wikipedia says it’s a Unesco World Heritage site and is the remnant of an ancient forest. Many young trees were marked as having been donated by someone. It contains quite a few species, but since the signs were all in Japanese I wasn’t able to do much botanizing. There are also small shrines, many moved from elsewhere, along the edges of the park.
The general feel of the placeA tree marked as sacred with rope and paper shidoHandwashing basin made from wood and stoneAnother shrine in the forestInside the grounds of Shimogamo ShrineFresh offeringSome Images of Tadusu-no-Mori
Kamo River. The river park was two blocks from my hotel near Kyoto Gyoen park. I got into the habit of walking along the banks from one bridge to the next, no matter how tired I was at the end of the day. One morning, I even hopped across it (the stepping stones are just far enough apart to make it a challenge.) That’s how I met the suspiciously tame heron, who was just waiting for its human friend to come along and feed it.
Egrets and Cormorants in the weirLooking North on the Kamo River, early morning
After visiting Portland’s Japanese Garden pretty much every week during Covid, I wanted to see Japanese gardens in Japan. And so the temples and gardens of Kyoto were not only my primary destination for this trip, but also its overwhelming motivation. Many of the old and ancient Zen monasteries in Kyoto are tourist attractions now, but they are still maintained by their religious communities. Even in Portland’s rigorously secular Japanese Garden, there have been times when a wave of tranquility suddenly sweeps over me while my mind is on something else. Often this is followed by the discovery of someone meditating nearby. Once I pinpointed the source as a volunteer who was slowly raking gravel, his Japanese gardener’s hat hiding his face as he concentrated on the task.
Sitting Face-to-Face in the Shion Garden
Many Japanese temple visitors are aware that the careful design and simplicity of these gardens and spaces is intended to convey tranquility. When I took a seat overlooking the Shion Garden at Kennin-ji, I realized with a kind of amused recognition that my fellow visitors were getting a vibe going with their awareness and intention. For a short time, even newcomers coming along the wooden walkway fell silent as they came into the enclosed space.1
Dry Zen garden at Tofuku-jiKennin-ji
The Kyoto temple gardens fall into two rough categories from the visitor’s standpoint. Courtyard gardens between buildings are viewed from the halls of the temple. Visitors remove their shoes, pay an entrance fee, and follow a path in their stocking feet along verandas and wooden walkways. These routes reveal views of enclosed gardens from different perspectives. Some are composed simply of stones and raked gravel (“dry gardens”), while others include shrubs and trees.
Ginkaku-jiGinkaku-ji (with its gravel pyramid)Ginkaku-ji
The other broad category is a “strolling garden” or a garden with paths you can wander through. The Portland Japanese Garden is this type: you can meander all over. The garden at Ginkaku-ji took me aback a bit in this respect. Constrained by its hillside location, its smaller area requires visitors to proceed almost in lock-step along the main route, and you only get to go through once. Since I got there late, the tour and school groups were already in a long, long line approaching the temple. After that day, I made sure to arrive at temples and gardens just as they opened, which gave me about an hour’s lead time over the buses.)
Nevertheless Ginkaku-ji was beautiful in the sunny, early fall weather—and one thing I discovered about a prescribed path is that the scenic prospects remain free of other people. After I said good-bye to my fellow tourists, I walked down the nearby Philosopher’s Path, a pleasant, uncrowded walk along a canal that also gives access to a few smaller temples and an interesting cemetery.
Yes, the stone says “Philosopher’s Path” 哲学の道Jizo statues along the PathI was probably trespassing when I visited this cemeteryBright fall foliage on cherry trees – imagine them in the spring!
Tenryaku-ji in the western part of Kyoto “borrows scenery” from the Arashiyama mountains and has the most extensive garden I visited. Most of the garden is more informal and natural walkable than most Zen gardens—this one even has with flowering plants and botanical markers. If I decided to live in Kyoto for a year, I’d live close to Tenryaku-ji so that I could wander this garden in all seasons and weather, as I’ve been able to do in the Portland Japanese Garden.
The formal garden of Tenryaku-ji
More photos of Tenryaku-ji:
Part of the no-shoes routeThe Instagram-famous bamboo grove borders the gardenBotanical notes in four languages are maintained throughout the garden.Gardens don’t just happen; this guy was working on Saturday
I was especially interested in visiting Tofuku-ji because of a major exhibition that was going on at the Kyoto National Museum. It was also was a priority because guidebooks say it’s overrun during peak fall color. From the buildings, you can view a little ravine that’s filled with bright red maples. On my day a couple of weeks before peak color the crowds were normal. The paths meandered through natural, forest-like areas of small trees and shrubs.
Tofuku-ji
When we finally had a cloudy day, I visited the Kyoto National Museum’s special exhibition on Tokufu-ji for a more in-depth look into the history of this “Monumental Zen Temple of Kyoto.” Much of the exhibit centered on the temple’s founder, who continued to be revered, along with his successors, through the centuries. While the stories and portraits of the abbots emphasize their worthy characters, the fantastical stories of the 500 Arhats, all different and all eccentric, remind us that anyone can find enlightenment. The temple owns many of the 500 Arhats painting series by Kissan Mincho (1352-1431), and these were repaired and exhibited for the exhibit.
Every religion needs some good stories. Here, in a series of tall, colorful paintings, Mincho illustrated the amusing and profound ways that the arhats demonstrated their powers and performed miracles, while other arhats looked on or meditated in support. I could have spent hours examining the unique faces and figures of the arhats, and tracking them from one painting to the next.2 (Manga has a way to go.)
I later read online that Kennin-ji hosts regular meditation periods for the public, so it makes sense that some people would show up to meditate at other, more convenient times ↩︎
Hooded cranes, also wintering in Izumi. The blue fencing is part of the protected area control. The image above is a family of White-naped Cranes.
Late in the planning stage for this trip (August!) I decided to subject my future self to a quick trip to the south of Japan to chase down two objectives: the Sugi forest on the island of Yakushima and the wintering cranes in Izumi. I’m still a bit surprised that a set of fortunate circumstances allowed me to successfully achieve both objectives. If you go off the beaten path in Japan, online information in English becomes sparse.
Why cranes? Along with solar eclipses, I’ve chased down these large birds in the past. Years ago I went to Kearney, Nebraska to observe giant flocks of lesser Sandhills bedding down for the night on the Platte River sandbanks. The thing that I love about cranes is their call, and I’ll go to some lengths to hear it. I was also hoping that some of the more beautiful crane species winter in Izumi. Indeed, Japan’s iconic White-naped Cranes were wintering there (perhaps not as ubiquitous throughout Japan as they were in the past.) As a bonus, it turns out that the Hooded Cranes also have the thrilling, resonant chortle in their call that’s similar to that of our North American Less and Greater Sandhill Cranes.
Sugi trees are on the left & right and along the road.
As for Sugi, (cryptomeria Japonica) there are two carefully cultivated ones at the Portland Japanese Garden. They are elegant and kind of feathery-looking. I wanted to see a forest of them.
And, of course, everyone who goes to Japan needs to take a trip on the Shinkansen!
Once I got to the small city of Izumi in Kagoshima, getting to the cranes was merely a matter communicating across the language barrier with the hotel clerk, who helped me book a taxi that would take me to Crane Observation Center on the agricultural outskirts of the town, and then pick me there up after a couple of hours. (I was afraid of getting stranded in the busless suburbs.)
ATR 72-600, a favorite of mine.
Getting to Yakushima Island, on the other hand, was quite an adventure. The night before I tried to book an outbound ferry using an international online ferry booking service (English!) But it was too late: the booking had to be done two days in advance. I could only book the return trip. And so, at 7 a.m. in the morning I found my way to a ferry terminal in Kagoshima that didn’t require reservations.
When I got there, I discovered that the ferries weren’t running due to high winds (but hooray, I didn’t have an expensive online ticket to deal with!) I sat in ferry terminal, empty except for two guys from Hong Kong, and managed to book a flight on my phone for about $100. Then I got myself to the airport and lo, the plane eventually took off and landed me on Yakushima. We had some interesting swaying during the approach, but otherwise the flight was fine.
The river near my room in Anbo, Yakushima
At the Anbo, Yakushima Tourist Information Center, a bit of intense non-verbal communication with patient and enthusiastic clerks resulted in the information that I could take a bus the next day up a mountain and choose from a set of five graded hikes through the Sugi forest. This was exactly what I wanted to do with my one day in Yakushima, but online information in English had been so sparse that I had to actually go there to find out what was possible.
The result was a fantastic hike and a close call avoided: My legs almost gave out in the deep woods after I chose trails that were extremely difficult. I had been misled by information like “3 hours, 1.4 km” (Hmm – I see the problem now.) The “trails” were vague paths where I had to scramble over tree roots and teeter over stepping stones and horizontal ladders with narrow, rotting planks. (Perfect for the hiker I spoke with later who had the experience, youth, balance and strength to easily navigate these woods: he appreciated the sense of genuinely being in nature.)
Looks easy, right?Diverse life growing on a nurse logThe trail …
I turned back one quarter of the way into my chosen trail after eating a substantial hiker-bento lunch supplied by my landlady. But there had been some moments of worry. There were no guys with rattan backpacks around to carry me if my muscles gave out, and a fall would have been a bit dire. https://pellegrinaconnie.wordpress.com/2022/11/25/a-walk-down-emei-shan-day-one/ No more risks like that for me!
Una Pellegrina nel Mondo 