Odawara Castle

Posted on October 13, 2012 by dreamonyall

So let’s back-track a little. I never got around to posting about my trip to Odawara Castle in Japan. I had planned another hike in the mountains to yet another ancient shrine, but the man I met the night before on the train (Hi, Ken!) told me about a castle that was just a few stops down the line, more-or-less. As I have never been in an actual castle before I altered my plans for the day and set a course for Odawara.

I will tell you up front that this is not the original castle. That was destroyed, rebuilt, destroyed, rebuilt and destroyed again before being fairly recently rebuilt. But they did a really good job of restoring the building. Using, wherever possible, original materials and methods to restore the building as near as possible to one of its earlier configurations. I read a couple of on-line reviews where people panned the castle as a fake. All I can say is, how many 900 year old buildings do you know of that haven’t undergone enough restoration that they pretty much are a new, old-looking building? Especially after earthquakes and conquerors bringing down the walls.

That aside, I arrived at the train station and promptly left through the wrong side of the station. I say, “wrong side” because the castle couldn’t be seen from the side I was on and there were no obvious signs pointing to it. But I stopped someone on the street and said “Odawara Castle?”, they pointed in a direction and I headed out. After about a block I saw a sign for the castle showing me where to turn and shortly I could see the grounds and then the roof of the castle.

I found an path into the grounds, but couldn’t tell if it was exit or entrance, or if, indeed, it made any difference. But not wanting to go in the “out” gate, I walked around, following signs until I found the actual front entrance. The current bridge over the man-made lake in front of the castle was obviously of fairly recent construct. There was a much older bridge to one side but it was closed to any sort of traffic and my only picture of it turned out fuzzy. Bummer. After the bridge there were a lot of ancient cherry trees that appeared to have been around at least a couple hundred years. Their trunks were thick and gnarled–arthritic-looking wood that had rotted and regrown many times over the course of their lives. Their tenacity was truly impressive.

bridge to the castle grounds

ancient cherry tree trunk

I continued on around the grounds and viewed a reconstructed wall, copper-clad gate and also a section of wall that was broken down to show each of the layers/steps involved in building the castle walls. Then I climbed a stairway with a sign saying they were the original stairs to the castle and went over another bridge that spanned the remains of the moat. It’s dry now and planted with something that looked a lot like the rice I had seen from the train, planted in fields around the town. Then I went through another wall of massive, hewn stone and another metal-clad gate and was in the courtyard below the castle proper. Here, for some reason, there was a cage of very smelly monkeys with very red faces and butts to match. There was a sign by the cage, but it was only in Japanese. I’m just guessing, but it probably said “don’t feed the monkeys”. It didn’t seem to have enough characters to contain an explanation for why they were there.

Copper clad gate

wall construction

The grounds in that spot were lovely, peaceful and delightfully shady and cool. And they afforded a great view of the castle above. After a few photos I went up more stairs to the castle itself and paid the entry fee to go inside.

The inside of Odawara Castle is a museum. Unfortunately they don’t allow any kind of photography. It’s a shame because there were so many beautiful and interesting items inside. There are four floors filled with implements of farming, war and everyday life; clothing, books, swords, hats, tea sets and lunch boxes, etc. You name it, they have it. There is a lot to see. On the top floor is the requisite souvenir/gift shop, plus an outdoor terrace that goes all the way around the building affording views of the bay, the city and the surrounding mountains.

Like so very many places in Japan, the gift shop didn’t accept credit cards so my spending was kept mercifully light. I really had bought too many gifts for people back home already….at this point I will have to break out the extra collapsible suitcase I brought with me just to get everything home without an extra fee. The bag I check when I fly was almost four pounds overweight by the time I left Japan (but I’m allowed two checked bags, tee hee). Fortunately haven’t found much to tempt me in Taiwan. Unfortunately the couple of things I have found are somewhat fragile. Sigh. I hope they survive the trip to Beijing and then back home….but I digress…

After I exited the castle museum I wandered the grounds for awhile longer and found a tiny amusement park for small children and another shrine with a beautiful koi pond and lots of lovely trees and sculpture. As I went back towards the castle, I watched some gardeners hanging off the side of an almost vertical hill by their fingertips, trimming the plants that grew there. I think they must have been part mountain goat. They all wore hard-hats, but there wasn’t a safety line of any kind to keep them from falling should they lose their footing.

Fountain in koi pond

Koi

mountain goat gardeners

After my trip to the castle I meant to visit a nearby shrine that was reputed to be quite lovely, but it started to rain. So I changed my plans and made my way back to the train station and thus back to Isehara. Fortunately I boarded before the evening rush was fully underway and thus got an actual seat where I could view the scenery along the way which included several crossings of a lovely river.

river seen from train

By the time I reached Isehara, the rain was behind me so I had a nice, dry walk back to Natsuo and Mia’s apartment.

Enoshima Island and Sagami Bay (or, this Itch is a Beach)

Posted on October 2, 2012 by dreamonyall

Here I am on this great big island and I had yet to see any of the ocean since the plane that brought me here landed. Yesterday, I decided that I really needed my salt-water fix. So I took a look at my computer for things to see and do at the nearest beach. Turns out the nearest beach is along Sagami Bay. My original destination was a shrine a little farther north on the bay. But while I was re-checking the instructions on how to get there, I found a reference to caves on Enoshima Island.

That led to a search about the island and a revision of my original plan. It was also a shorter (and cheaper!) train ride than my first destination. Too many pluses to ignore.

Within the hour I was at Isehara station, boarding my train bound for Sagami-Ono where I would change for Enoshima. In a little more than an hour, I was literally at the end of the line and heading for the island. There is a causeway that connects the island to the mainland, so getting there is easy. First I took a look at the beach on the shore side, which appears to be a black sand beach, but decided to veggie out on the beach after visiting the island.

As I was walking across the causeway, I saw a sign listing some of the birds to be found on the island. While I couldn’t make out all of the varieties listed, I did make out “Peregrine Falcon” quite easily. As soon as I neared the island proper, I could hear the falcon’s eerie, other-worldly cries ringing from the sky. The only cry I heard almost as often was that of the ever-present crows that seem to exist almost everywhere. The falcons were constantly wheeling in and out of view as they performed their aerial peregrinations (tee hee).

Main “street” on Enoshima Is.

I made my way up the main “street” (really a wide, brick path traversed only by feet and the occasional scooter), with side-trips into some of the souvenir shops that lined the lane. At the head of that path was a large shrine accessible by either stairs or a pay-as-you-go escalator. I chose the stairs (forgive me knees) of which there were many, many more than there had originally appeared to be. Which seems to be a theme of travel in Japan. Above that shrine, there was another, plus additional stones and memorial bits and pieces scattered about the island. There was also a fence alongside one of the paths. Hooked into the fence were dozens of padlocks. I don’t know the meaning of leaving them there. Many were inscribed with names and dates.

this fence is all locked up.

: and another one

A shrine on Enoshima

There was apparently a cooking garden at the top of the island, but it required a fee to enter, so I skipped that. There was a large flower garden in an area over-looking the bay, but it was undergoing renovation with summer flowers than had passed their peak having just been removed and fall flowers being prepared for planting. In short, there wasn’t much to see. But, on the other side of a dirt path from the would-be flower garden was a small pond. I had seem some people pointing to it earlier, so I surmised that there must be something there to see, but the water was so murky that I couldn’t see a thing……at first.

But then I began to see small disturbances in the surface of the pond. Then a pointed dark-green nose, then more disturbances. That’s when I realized that the pond was home to several snapping turtles. These turtles were fairly tame and obviously used to being fed by people visiting the pond. I was wondering what I could offer them when I remembered that I had a bunch of large red grapes in a pocket of my vest. I bit one in half and offered the half that I didn’t eat to the turtle. He snatched it out of my fingers and disappeared. That’s when I decided to try to get a picture of myself feeding the turtles. So I lined up my camera and prepared a grape. Sure enough, here came Mr. Turtle. The camera took too long to focus, however, and the shot wasn’t that great, which necessitated another attempt.

This second attempt is where I learned not to get too distracted by the attempt to get a picture that you don’t keep a close eye on the turtle. Seems that fingers look just like red grapes as far as the turtles are concerned. Fortunately there was little damage done, so I bit another grape in half and took another “shot” at it. This one was a keeper. But by now I had attracted a group of onlookers who all wanted pictures of me feeding the turtles. Plus there turned out to be a lot more turtles in the pond than I had originally thought. And they all wanted their share of the grapes. Thus I ended up feeding a goodly portion of the grapes that were to have been a big part of my lunch to the turtles to satisfy both them and our audience. When I said, “that’s enough” and got up to go, people where already forwarding the photos to friends via their phones. My fingers may be famous by now!

Watch your fingers…

After that, I headed back down the way I had come to try to find my way to the caves, with a few stops in some more shops and a dongol and pineapple break. A dongol is a special type of extremely sticky rice that is colored and flavored then formed into balls and placed on a stick, three balls to a stick. The flavorings may be sweet or salty. They may have a coating of some kind of sauce, they may even be grilled. The variations are pretty wide. But they’re really good and rather addictive.

The problem was, at this point, it was getting close to sunset and I still hadn’t found the caves. What I did find was an over-look right on the water that gave me a perfect view of the sunset across the bay with Mt. Fuji in the background. Since the sunset was continuously changing and becoming more and more colorful, I parked myself there for the duration of the show as the clouds clothing Fuji-san changed from gold to peach and tangerine with cotton-candy syrup to top off the sunset sundae.

All that lingering to catch the final act of the show meant that it was now almost dark and I still hadn’t put my toes in the sand. So I gave up my search for the caves and headed for that black sand beach. I arrived at my destination in time to at least touch the water as the waves rolled ashore. Then I turned back toward town just in time to see a saffron moon peek over the edge of the hills that outlined the town. I watched for awhile then made my way back to the train station to catch my ride back to Isehara.

Night comes to Enoshima Island

As a P.S. I met a very nice gentleman on the train who spoke pretty good English and we kept each other company on the trip back. His name was Ken (shortened from the Japanese) and he teaches Japanese to newbies to Japan and a form of calligraphy (done with a brush) to service people and their families stationed at local bases. He’s a world-traveler who has visited many of the places that I hope to see some day soon. So, if you’re reading this Ken, I made it back safely. Thanks for the info on where I needed to change trains.

Reach Out and Touch Someone

Posted on October 2, 2012 by dreamonyall

Sunday we had planned to go to Yokohama, but a small thing called a typhoon got in our way. It’s not that it was all that bad in the section of the country that I’m in, it’s just that we would have been driving back after dark just when the wind and rain were at their worst. Since the roads here tend to be very narrow and winding, I couldn’t blame Natsuo for not wanting to be driving during the worst of the storm.

So instead we did something far more sensible. Natsuo made an appointment for me at a near-by massage place. Three days ago I had picked up Hidemi wrong and thrown out by back. Since then the muscles in my lower back had been in constant spasm and I was really (really, really, really) getting tired of the unending pain. Muscle relaxers were only going so far and it was refusing to quit, no matter what I did.

When the time came for my appointment, we drove over to the massage center and Natsuo translated for the massage therapist and me. I wasn’t expecting a miracle, just a chance for a temporary cease to the pain and maybe a gradual lessening until it went away. What I got was much different.

Let me say right here that Japanese-style massage is very different than what I am used to in the US. Much gentler and more similar to accupressure with some massage thrown in. Also, it is done fully clothed with all the massage tables and therapists in one room. First they ask where your problem areas are, then you lay down on the table, they put a towel over you and go to work. The guy working on me really knew his stuff. He immediately started putting pressure on areas I hadn’t even realized were sore.

By the time he was done, an hour later, the spasms had completely stopped. Not to jinx things or anything, but they haven’t come back either. I’m very happy.

I wonder if my massage therapist back in St. Louis would consider learning Japanese-style massage?

Small Japanese Oddities

Posted on September 30, 2012 by dreamonyall

Just a small note on a few of the things Japanese that are very unusual to someone who has spent almost all of her life in the U.S.

One of the first things that struck me was how much of Japan is rural. I have seen plenty of pictures of Tokyo and the high-speed trains, etc. but nothing on how much land isn’t covered with houses and roads. There really is quite a lot of it that is still rural. In fact, it seems like most of it. Of course, a lot of that land is vertical mountains. Nobody but a mountain goat could live on some of those places.

Number two is the miniature farms. Apparently a lot of older people who are retired, if they have any land around their home at all, start small “farms”. They grow a few vegetables, maybe plant some fruit trees. Anything beyond what they use for their own needs they sell for supplemental income. There are small fruit orchards (10 to 20 trees) tucked in all over the place. The trees are trimmed to stand no more than about 8 to 10 feet tall and are surrounded by screen fences that cover both the sides and the tops to exclude hungry birds. It’s more or less a screen “tent” that covers the entire orchard all the way to the ground.

Three will be the manhole covers. I’ve only seen a couple of purely utilitarian covers. The rest are very ornate and scenic. Most are painted in colors as well.

Four are the protective covers for cars over parking spaces in private homes. They have posts on only one side and are arched over the car to keep off rain or hail. They are so common sense I don’t know why I haven’t see them in the US. I plan to have something similar built for my car when I return to the states. Since I park my RV next to my car, having posts all the way around (like on a traditional carport) would be a problem, making it hard to maneuver the RV.

Shall I make number five the well-known Japanese penchant for politeness? That is an oddity primarily because of the death of courtesy in the US and many other countries. Common courtesy is not only no longer common, in most places it seems to be non-existent. I’m not suggesting that we all start bowing to each other, but a little kindness would really be nice. The “me first, my way or the highway (and yes, I do own the whole darn highway!)” attitude that has become ubiquitous could use an upgrade. I have yet to observe one instance of public anger, rudeness or blocking others in traffic to keep them from turning or merging. Somehow they manage to treat everyone as if they were either equal or better without diminishing their own self-worth. How refreshing!

OK, I covered the toilets in another post. But we’ll make it number six for those who may not have read the Fuji post. Almost all the public toilets I have run across are also bidets. In addition to that, they have a button you can push that makes a flushing noise to cover any sounds emanating from one’s body that might cause embarrassment (the one at Mt. Fuji had the continuous sound of a babbling brook). Toilets at higher elevations (where the temperature drops below freezing) have heated seats. Toasty. Oh, and the biggie, I have yet to see a toilet that hasn’t been flushed or a seat that was peed on and left for the next user to clean up. It just isn’t done. Isn’t that nice?

Here’s seven. I like this one. You don’t tip in Japan. People are paid an acceptable wage. They agreed to work for that wage. They don’t expect every member of the public they come into contact with to supplement their income in the form of tips. I don’t understand why US companies can’t pay a living wage to their employees instead of passing on the burden of payroll to the public in the form of a hidden fee called tipping. Oh wait, I do understand. It’s called corporate greed and it’s epidemic. Even the CEO of a failing company NEEDS that yearly multimillion dollar bonus, right? I recall a song with a line about “if the way that you need is too much like greed, decide, if you’re rich or you’re poor” or something like that. (Soapbox: I’m sorry, I have a hard time feeling sorry for someone who’s having a hard time affording that forth vacation home. If it’s that bad for you, I suggest suicide…off soapbox). It’s gotten so bad in the US that almost every person who deals with the public in any fashion now has a tip jar. Restaurants, you started it, stop it. Pay your employees a living wage and stop expecting your customers to do it.

Number eight is for drink machines, which are everywhere. Street corners or the middle of the block, commercial areas and housing areas. There are drink machines every couple of blocks. No, that’s not an exaggeration. I’m told that’s because it’s so humid and there are so many elderly people. Most of the offerings seem to be water, coffee drinks and sodas. I have seen very few with actual fruit juices, just fruit flavor drinks.

Nine would be sugar, it’s everywhere and nowhere. The Japanese like their sweets, they just don’t like them too sweet. Ice cream to candy, it’s just not as sugar-loaded as the things I’m used to. Which is fine by me. I don’t need my orange candy to taste like a spoon of sugar with a drop of fake orange flavor. Japanese versions are more like orange juice with thickener and just enough sugar to make it on the sweet side. The up side of this is there is far less sugar per serving. The down-side is that you can each a lot more of each item because it takes a lot longer to hit the sugar over-load point. Danger, Will Robinson, danger!

Ten is for the number of fingers used while pinning clothes to the line to dry. Or whatever device you use for hanging out your laundry. Unlike the US where almost everyone uses a clothes dryer when doing laundry, most people here hang their clothes to dry. Every apartment balcony seems to contain drying laundry or the apparatus for doing so. When riding on the train I have seen the same in most people’s yards. Why is it that we keep talking about energy conservation in the US (endlessly!), but so many would (or have) pass(ed) laws to outlaw the simple, and highly useful clothesline? “Unsightly”, they say, “not in my neighborhood!” Not quite sure how the humble clothesline offended those people, but personally, I always liked the way my clothes smell after being dried outdoors….

Eleven is the number of inches higher the bathroom is in my hotel room. At my niece’s apt. each of the rooms were about a 3 inch step up from the main hallway. I thought this might be a peculiarity of their apt. Apparently it is pretty common in Japanese living spaces. The bathroom in the hotel room I am in now is just plain annoying. The step up to get into the bathroom is high enough that it is just plain awkward to into or out of the bathroom.

Twelve is for tub. The practice in Japan is a quick shower to get clean, followed by a long soak in the tub. Tubs in Japan are much shorter than the average US tub, but also much deeper. When I lean back in the tub here, the water comes up to my, um, chest. High enough to give things a little, shall we say, buoyancy? They’re really quite pleasant. Oh, and the sink faucet is quite long and swivels over to the tub to fill it for your soak. There is no separate faucet for the tub. Just a lever that switches the water between the sink faucet and the shower head.

That’s it for now, but I’m sure I’ll add more before it’s all over.

Trip to Mt. Fuji (No “Yama” Mama)

Posted on September 29, 2012 by dreamonyall

Today my niece’s husband was off from school so it was off to Mt. Fuji for all of us. “All” means my niece, Mia, her husband, Natsuo, and their two children, Hidemi, Satsuki –who are 5 years and 18 months respectively.

Hidemi, Natsuo, Satsuki, Mia at Mt. Fuji

On the drive up, they introduced me to Japanese rest areas. These are not your average U.S. rest areas. More like a small mall. Some are larger, some are smaller, but they contain the requisite bathroom (or 4) and a gas station, plus several eateries, shops carrying all sorts of goods, ice cream and dessert establishments and entertainment. The one we stopped at had a clown making balloon animals for the children and a Rock, Paper, Scissors competition going on in a small open-air amphitheater behind the mall. They take their Rock, Paper, Scissors very seriously in Japan. They had 3 lovely young ladies officiating and coverage by some radio station, but no, I didn’t stay to watch. Instead I was treated to a cup of Japanese-style ice cream. And not ordinary ice cream. This ice cream was made with special high-grade milk from a local dairy that even had a picture of the farmer that owns the dairy. Talk about “local” food! When you go to a grocery store here, the better-quality produce is in special packaging and has a picture of the farmer who grew the fruit or veggie plus a map showing the location of the farm. And those items are not cheap! But they are good….yep, I tried some!

Small portion of rest area

The ice cream was very thick and rich and smooth as silk. What it was not was disgustingly sweet. It probably contained one-third the sugar of US ice cream and I have to say that I found it vastly superior to any US brand I’ve ever tried. I can only eat a single scoop of most ice creams. The cloying sweetness just overloads both my taste buds and my stomach in a very short span of time. I could have eaten an entire pint of this and not have been on sugar-overload. A quart probably wouldn’t have been enough to make me a diabetes candidate. While we’re on the subject of food differences, the Japanese don’t feel the need to over-color everything either. I bought a pack of four different flavors of Pez candy. Four different flavors, but all were the same color — white. So nice to not have the item I’m eating look like a day-glo reject from a nuclear accident. (OK, no bad jokes about Japan and nuclear accidents — BEG, wink, wink)

Anyway, on to Mt. Fuji. For those who insist on saying “Mt. Fujiyama”, please know this: “Yama” means “mountain” in Janese. So when you say, “Mt. Fujiyama” you are saying “Mt. Fuji mountain”. My bit of new knowledge for the day. Since there is a storm on the horizon, so to speak, we had some concerns that the building clouds would obscure our view of the peak. And it did seem like it might be a problem as the mountain was only viewable from the waist down on the drive up. But as the road climbed higher and higher we passed through the lower level of clouds into clear sky and the top of the mountain came into view. By the time the car was parked and the kids were in their jackets and shoes, the last vestige of cloud had cleared the mountain and left us with an unobstructed view of the peak.

Mt. Fuji

Side note here: before walking up to the viewing area, we hit the restrooms. This is where a truly civilized country can shine. I suppose having a bidet on every Western-style toilet is nice (I haven’t actually tried one out yet. Not quite sure how much trouble it would be to dry off afterwards…) the icing on the cake here was the fact that all of the toilet seats were heated! Yes, heated. It gets cold up there. Fuji is HIGH. Even in the summer it can be down-right nippy. Sitting on that toasty warm seat is a delight. While I’m at it, let me mention that to save someone with intestinal discomfort from possible embarrassment, they also had the sound of a babbling brook emanating from speakers beside each toilet, set at a volume that was loud enough to drown out any possible sounds of escaping flatulence. Every other restroom I have been in here had the option of the sound of a flushing toilet available at the push of a button in order to mask any other sound that the stall occupant might not want others to hear. This was the first place that had pleasant masking sound as a standard feature. Adorable.

After our little bathroom break, we walked up to get a better look at the peak (and the large selection of shops and restaurants surrounding the parking area…) As we passed the last souvenir shop we saw about 20 horses tied to rails with several people hawking their “wares”. The opportunity to have your picture taken on a horse with you little one in your lap…for a mere (approximately) $7.00 US. Your camera, you print out at home. The $7.00 was to sit on the horse. For about $13.50 US, they would walk the horse around the area for about 5 minutes. For only $28 US, that walk could be extended to 15 minutes! Natsuo obviously wanted to take Hidemi on a ride, or, at the very least get the picture on the horse. But the ride was obviously his preference. Mia was wearing a short skirt and Satsuki was too squirmy and intimidated by the horses to go. I didn’t think Natsuo wanted to go alone. Or maybe didn’t want to give himself permission to spend all that money on the short ride with his son, I don’t really know. But it seemed to me like he could use some moral support for the idea, so I offered to rent a horsie for myself and go along for the ride.

Horse Ride

This whole set-up was meant for the kiddies. Not the adults. Well, for the adults in the sense that they could spoil their child a little and get a picture of the whole event for posterity. It was not meant for the adults alone. Which is to say that most of the Japanese in the area seemed to find my taking the ride on the horse by myself enormously amusing. Although they were too polite to actually laugh about it in front of me. So, of course, I had a wonderful time poking holes in everyone’s expectations of what “should be”.

After the “ride”, I got some wonderful pictures of the native flora and had time to rue the fact that there wasn’t time for me to spend more time hiking around up there. We went in a couple of shops, bought some souvenirs and then visited a temple tucked behind the stores. By then most people had left, the sun was nearing the western horizon and the temperature was becoming decidedly nippy. So after another visit to those adorable heated seats, we headed down the mountain and went to find dinner. (note to all: the Japanese version of lasagna bears no resemblance to actual lasagna aside from the cheese on top. Please don’t order it thinking it will. It’s not bad tasting, but it’s definitely NOT lasagna!)

Beginnings of fall color

: Fall woods with a touch of fog

Oyama-Afuri Shrine

Posted on September 28, 2012 by dreamonyall

Today I struck out on my own to check out the Oyama Afuri Shrine. My niece showed me the way to the bus station and pointed out the bus that said “Oyama”, number 12. Then she left to do her shopping and take her baby home. I waited for 20 minutes without seeing any bus #12. I asked someone else who understood a few words of English and he said I needed bus 13. Another 20 minutes. No bus 12 or 13, just 3 of bus #10 and one #54. I asked someone else as another bus 10 arrived. He said I needed bus 10 (the same bus I’d now seen 4 times). So I got on and asked the driver. He indicated that 10 was indeed the bus I needed. I asked how much I needed to pay. Another surprise. Buses are primarily on the honor system. There is a screen in the front of the bus that lists the stops. There are prices next to the stop numbers that tell each person how much they owe by what stop they got on at and how far the bus has traveled.

There is no way that the driver is going to be able to remember where each rider got on. So each person pays how much they owe from their point of entry to their point of exit. Since I didn’t yet know how the system worked, I just held out a hand-full of coins and the driver picked out the ones I needed and dropped them in the box for me.
Thus I made it to the shrine. More or less. I was now in the same national park as the shrine. I walked up several sets of stairs with several short walkways in between them, about 175 – 200 stairs in all. That’s when I found the Oyama cable car. Since there were still several hundred stairs between me and both of the shrines on the mountain, I decided to buy a ticket to the top shrine and walk down. This proved to be at least a semi-good idea. The ride to the top was lovely and I chatted with two gentlemen who had a good command of English and were pleasant company.

Oyama cable car

We arrived at the top and parted ways, as they were public servants and had work to do. There were a variety of people at the top; businessmen in suits, elderly people in heavy-duty hiking boots and younger people in street clothes or hiking attire, even one woman in low heels that I felt sorry for thinking about all those stairs.

The view from the top was fabulous. The mountains are extremely steep and the shrine was thousands of feet up the mountainside. There was another set of about 70 stairs behind the shrine that was the beginning to a trail to the top of the mountain. I decided to pass on that one as it was already 2:30 PM and dark arrives a little after 6. I didn’t relish the idea of trying to make my way down in the dark.

One corner of the Oyama Afuri shrine

I toured the area around the temple and took a few pictures and briefly explored a side trail then began my descent. Let me say right here that I was really sorry that I hadn’t begun my little adventure earlier. I really wanted to explore more of that side trail. The mountains here are sooooooo beautiful. So vibrantly green in so many different shades from chartreuse, to jade, teal and evergreen with a couple dozen other hues thrown in. There were lots of interesting fungi and mosses and the area was just delightful to be in. Plus, I really would have like to see a little of the indigenous wildlife (there was a sign at the cable stop warning of bear in the area, but these are much smaller than their US counterparts and far more shy). But time and common sense would not permit. Plus it was windy. The kind of windy that allows you to dodge falling branches and choose your steps carefully, lest you get blown off course and find yourself doing unexpected cartwheels down the mountainside.

Looking back from the shrine

: Forest near the upper shrine

Everything on the mountain is hundreds, if not thousands (literally) of years old. I passed a drainage ditch that channeled rainwater down the side of the mountain. It was almost straight up and down and about 100 feet long and three feet wide. All made out of stones that had been roughly formed and fit together without the use of concert to form the conduit.

Then there were the stairs. Pretty much the original stairs from when the shrine was dedicated to the rain god many centuries past. Thus the stairs are all different widths and heights even on the same “step” (one has to use that term loosely….very loosely). The stairs are made from local stone and they are more or less flat on the top and were probably even at some time in the very distant past. Now they are simply challenging. Add to all that the fact that there are no handrails. Anywhere on the mountain. I caught the edge of my walking shoe a couple of times and came close to tripping. Fortunately I kept my balance. Those were tumbles I wouldn’t have enjoyed taking.

stone stairs, not as even as they appear…

But the hike down was, again, very beautiful. There were small shrines all over the side of the mountain all the way down. Most were no more than an upright stone with characters carved into it, but there were also small statues and tiny caves dug out along side the trail that had carved stone characters inside. Many of the tiny shrines had coins at their bases that pilgrims had left as they passed. No one (or almost no one) would think of taking those coins for their own benefit. Although I believe they are periodically collected by the monks from the shrine. When Buddhism came to Japan the original shrine to the rain god was converted to a Buddhist shrine and enlarged and adapted.

forest shrine

trail-side shrine

But I was hiking down the mountain, wasn’t I? I finally made it to the lower shrine. Again, very lovely with lots to see all around it. But my knees were already telling me that I was an idiot for not having taken the cable car down to this shrine and balking at every stair. (But I would have missed a lot of interesting sights if I had done so.) I viewed the shrine and again would have liked to have spent more time but it was getting pretty late and considering the shape my knees were in I was starting to worry about how long it would take me to get to the bottom. So I pushed on.

Detail from lower shrine

More small shrines, one very ornate “cemetery” plot (most people here are cremated upon death, so the plots may hold the remains of dozens of family members in an area that would hold 3 or 4 bodies in the US). There was a nice stream that formed beside the path near the bottom, but it had become dark enough in the fold of the mountain that I couldn’t take a picture without a flash and my batteries were getting low.

fellow travelers at the bus stop

Fortunately, the final steps to the bottom, the ones below the cable station were at last at hand. I arrived at the bus stop about 15 minutes before the bus was due and eased myself gratefully onto a bench to wait for good old #10 and the trip back to Isehara station.

I`m Heeeere….

Posted on September 26, 2012 by dreamonyall

Jet-lagged and half-dead, but here. It was an “interesting” trip. The first step, the jump from St. Louis to Chicago was easy. Well, aside from TSA deciding that an item I had carried in my purse for many years and many flights was now suddenly “dangerous” and I would have to throw it away or not get on the plane. Sheesh. It was some little multi-tool thingy that could loosen a nut, tighten a screw, act as a tiny saw, etc. Seems that one edge was more or less sharpened for about an inch and therefore was a dangerous knife. They briefly considered taking away my nail file, but decided I could keep that.

Anyway, I got to Chicago. I limped onto the plane as my leg was hurting a little and the Japanese flight attendants all rushed to my side to help me with my bags, make sure I was comfy, etc. etc. They couldn’t do enough. As opposed to American, who didn’t want to allow me to pre-board unless I had requested a wheelchair in advance. When I told them I didn’t require a wheelchair, it would just be easier for everyone if I got my slow-moving self out of the way, as I was in the very back of the plane. They gave me a dirty look and some lip, but let me on. Whatever became of common courtesy? It would kill them? Oh yeah, I’m not a Platinum member, therefore lower than dirt. Fly foreign airlines every chance you get folks, they treat you as if you actually have value.

Off my soapbox.

So, I’m on the plane, with my complimentary pillow and blanket (remember those?), all snuggled in when I meet my row-mates, two young men from a group of Japanese students that had been on a trip to IL to study our Mr. Lincoln. The young man who sat next to me had the worst breath! Yikes! But shortly they were serving food and I thought maybe a meal would help. His breath yes, but then he developed pronounced and very smelly flatulence. Help!

The food, however, was great! The first meal was glazed chicken on a bed of rice, cold vegetable salad, fruit salad, miso soup, juice and Haagen Dazs ice cream. Later there was a snack of two small sandwiches followed by a meal of salmon on pasta with white sauce, green salad and citrus (oranges and grapefruit) salad served shortly before landing. You can possibly go hungry on JAL!

After we landed I went through customs where I found out that filling out the documents in pencil was a big no-no and I had to do everything over. One thing the flight attendants didn’t know, apparently. So I did it all over in pen and finally got through customs. Then I went down to claim my bag. I waited and waited and waited, no bag. I started to panic. I finally found someone who spoke enough English to point me to the JAL service counter. I walked up and, lo and behold, my bag! My bag minus both wheels and most of the bottom. They apologized, brought me a cart and sent me to lost and found, which is also damage claims. I have visions of spending a fortune to replace my largest bag so that all my clothes don’t spill out on the next leg of my trip when the sweet little thing that was helping me fill out the forms goes into the other room and comes out with a brand-new bag, larger than my old one, with 4 swivel wheels and a TSA compliant lock (in many ways nicer than the one they destroyed) and says “OK? This one OK?” I definitely agreed with “OK”, transferred all my belongings over and was on my way to the tourist assistance counter.

There were went over my options for getting to my niece’s apt. It sounded like 2 train changes and about 2 hours travel. It was actually 4 train changes and about 4 hours travel. I apparently went the circular route. This was after a 13 hour flight. Tired was a massive understatement. And you know those pictures of people being stuffed onto trains in Japan at rush hour? All I can say is, sardines have it good. Plenty of space in their can.

But I made it to Isehara station where a young lady who didn’t speak English, but who had taken me under her wing anyway, called my niece and told her I was at the station so that Mia (niece) and her husband could pick me up. And that’s all I have the energy for right now. More later.

slipstreamserendipity

A forum for my travels inside my head and out. All the places life takes me.

Tag Archives: Japan