Onward and Upward...and Upward... and @#($&#^!!!ward...

As you near the top of the mountain, the signs become increasingly numerous. The path is already marked with those little hanging yellow placards that say, "pilgrims: this way", little red posts buried in the earth at your feet, and a few hanging ribbons and trinkets left behind by those who have blazed the trail before you. Now, every hundred meters or so, there is a new sign saying, "Keep on keeping on! You're almost there!" These signs lie to you over and over again to keep you on the straight and narrow.

This sign really does say, "You made it!" and I think something about parking...

But eventually, you turn a corner and you are greeted by a rock!

This really raised my ire when I rounded a corner and confronted it.
I don't know what it is, what it does, nor anything else about it.
All I know is I was suddenly hit by the terrible thought that this was all
there was to the temple. Happily, I was mistaken.

And then you go around another corner and it starts to get better:

Look at the middle carving on the big rock. 

I imagine the dialogue goes something like this:
A san - hey, dude! Don't leave me here.
B san - No freaking way am I carrying you any farther.
You're on your own. And I'm taking your pilgrim stick.

And finally, you reach a true threshold, a gate that will be 1200 years old in Heisei 26 (two years from now - 2014). 

There's a little sign there where you can see "1200" written. It's actually quite amazing
that people 1200 years ago had time to come up here and establish this shrine.
There's really not a whole let else to do in Kochi ken...

Stay tuned! Next time we head to the temple proper and the extraordinary buddha garden therein! Don't miss the angry red devil, the midget pilgrim, and the wall of memories!

On the Beaten Path - Go Read, 'Oh, Mountain Road' first!

Suddenly, in front of me and slightly to the left, a parting in the thick trees of the government-mandated cedar forest. (This is true – after WWII, the government ordered the hills of Kochi to be covered in cedar trees so that Japan could produce its own timber. They never used it, owing to the cheapness of foreign imports. The cedar trees are extremely thickly planted and the very dense arrangement keeps the sunlight from reaching the floor of the forest, resulting in dead undergrowth. Strange, huh?) A path, specifically cut out for henro (pilgrims) opens up in the wall of wilderness around the winding road.

Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.

Now, the big question: do we stay on the kuro-paved road? Or do we venture out into the wilds of the untamed and bug-hatching wilderness that is Yasuda mountain? The sign says it is just barely shorter to take the path the marches straight up the mountain through all the trees and shrubs than it is to walk on the pavement.


Yes, we are that lazy. Into the wild, Frodo!

This is a sign that says, 'Pilgrims, this way!' No one wants
you to get lost and die out here in the mountains. That is sooooo
last century.

This path reminds me of home, in California.

Even though I’m climbing through a Japanese forest to reach a 1200-year-old temple, the scenery reminds me of home. This funky little trail straight up a mountain is very reminiscent of the different mountain and hill trails in California. Even the trees are very similar, in this one spot, if you cut out the bamboo that occaionally jump into the picture. 


About 950 meters in, (but who's counting?) I encounter a little rest stop full of the marvelous joys and enchantments of most Japanese rest stops. Minus the loo. 

I hope he is wishing me well on my trip. I am sure he is not supplying
a water fountain or any actual nutritious sustenance. 

Onward. To the top.

Oh, Mountain Road!

One of the things about living in Kochi is that most people think you need a car to get around. This is mainly due to the fact that Kochi is the second-largest prefecture in Japan (after Hokkaido, which is another island, so I consider that cheating) and one of the least densely populated. Of the 700,000 or so souls in Kochi, almost 350,000 of them live in the boundaries of the capital city (Kochi). The others live in the almost uninhabitable land surrounding the port city.

The other reason it is convenient to have a car is, as I may have mentioned in a previous post – please see archives -, Kochi is 85% mountain terrain. Every country road climbs a mountain and winds through the cedar trees like a pre-summer snake climbing the little tetrapods on either side of a rice paddy gutter (yes, I have seen this happen – it was pretty amazing considering the reptile was slithering almost straight up). This makes that little pilgrimage around the island of Shikoku rather daunting when you hit Kochi prefecture. If you see a sign that says, Such-and-nani-temple, 5 kilometers ahead, you can take that to mean 5 kilometers up into the sky.

Mine is a case in point for my side of the argument.

Not having a whole lot to do on Saturday afternoon, since my internet is still down for week number 5 – they are coming this week with a new modem that will supposedly solve the problem – I decided to go for a bike ride. I have been trying to push my bike riding skills to some farther-off towns, at least on this side of Aki, and I found myself on the far side of Yasuda in the early afternoon. I encountered a little criss-cross of roads with a little criss-cross of signage all pointing up the mountain to a temple, a shrine, and a sky and air “viewing park”. As if you can’t see the sky and air from every point from Shimanto to Muroto. But whatever brings the tourists in.

Some time ago, I attempted this climb, but I gave up when I encountered a pilgrim who told me it was too damn far to finish the ride. I took his estimation on faith and turned back. Now I know, from experience, that he was right.

First you go up this wide, sweeping, and curving road that looks like man made it only to shoot car commercials on. It’s pristinely clean, the lines are freshly white, and the scenery is the type to make any man’s man grab the sides of his barcalounger and declare, “I need a BMW M5! A convertible!”

At the bottom of the mountain is a sign that says, Konomineji Temple: 5 kilometers (or 4.7 if you want to get picky about details). When I made my way up the wide sweep of this feral sports track, I found myself at another cute little sign that said, Konomineji Temple – that way. No more kilometers! I must be way more in shape than I thought I was! I passed a couple of pilgrims on their way down from the temple and cheerfully parked my bike in a little side-path leading into someone’s farm. No more kilometers, means not far to go, and the road had suddenly become very steep. No worries. I got this. 

Naoshima

My devotion to the blogging cause has interrupted my work schedule. Thank goodness. With the internet down in the private sector all over Japan, and by this I mean my house, I have taken to composing new posts at the office. I don't write anything too mean about my town or my coworkers, so we should be okay. And they don't really care. Everyone was super-busy about two weeks ago and now things have calmed down again. Most of them walk around trying to look busy, but we know we aren't really. You can't fool me. I don't read Japanese, but the Yahoo! logo is the same in every language. 


On to Naoshima.


Naoshima is an art island. Or 'The Art Island'. This was how it was introduced to me by my travel buddy who induced me to go on the trip, and I still know very little about the place. So let's look it up. 


'Bennesse Art Site Naoshima' has a vision. This vision is 'to create a physically and mentally rejuvenating haven where you may find yourself musing on the true meaning of "living well" (which is what the word Benesse was coined to mean), and at the same time, a place where art is not experienced by studying set attitudes but appreciated on your own terms, as another opportunity to ponder living well.' - Soichiro Fukutake, President of the Bennesse Art Site, Naoshima. 


There are a number of interesting art experiences on the island including the Chichu Art museum which is completely underground (so as not to interfere with the beautiful scenery of the island) and the Lee Ufan museum, the first (and perhaps only...?) museum dedicated to displaying the art of Korean artist Lee Ufan. Mostly it looks like the stuff is boulders and blocks of wood... when it's not blank canvases with small squares of grey paint. Personally, I do not appreciate this kind of art, but someone must. Like ugly children, you know? Their mommas must love them. 

A number of other islands in the Inland Sea have also been commandeered (in the nicest possible way) for the purpose of creating a little artistic oasis away from the crazy hustle and bustle which is modern day Japan. You have to take a ferry out to the islands, after a train ride to a literal dead-end station (Uno), and it is kind of set out there by itself. Honestly, though, we got too late a start to see any of the art, except for a few outdoor exhibits. But the island of Naoshima, is truly beautiful and comparatively peaceful, a lovely little bit of quiet outside of the frightful buzz that can sometimes emanate from the human swarm that is the residents of Japan. 

The red pumpkin on the wharf

From INSIDE the red pumpkin on the wharf!

This is a famous pumpkin, the entire reason we came to the island, I believe. I forget
the artist's name, but she is famous for her use of polka dots. I kid you not.
There was a very long line of people, waiting to take their pictures with this pumpkin.
We did not wait in line. We sat on the side and took pictures from an angle.
It's more artistic that way.

Some more of the beautiful inland sea views.

I thought this was a mouse. Helena thought it was something naughty. On second thought,
it kind of looks like a person typing or playing the piano.
Or doing something naughty.
Or a mouse. 

Naruto Uzumaki

I think that means 'Naruto Whirlpool'. Yes, it does! (according to jisho.org - they are great, by the way.) The whirlpool at Naruto, in Tokushima ken, is a collection of whirlpools in Naruto Strait, between Shikoku and Honshu. The water moves so quickly (it is the fourth-fastest moving strait in the world, according to wikipedia) that it creates numerous vortexes (or vortices - according to Merriam Webster) that you can see from the bridge above the strait (a little less than a mile long, connecting Tokushima prefecture and Hyogo on Honshu (the main island, according to everyone).

The bridge is really high up in the air and, as we covered in a previous post, I am not overly fond of heights. So my friends opted for the boat option, which meant a ride out into the midst of the whirlpools to see them from sea level. Which is cool, but I am afraid of the ocean. Still, I manned up and went without whining or complaining. I saved that for midnight when they dragged my exhausted self out to karaoke (it was very fun, all things considered. We sang songs from Mary Poppins and Enchanted).

You can't really see the whirlpool, but you can see the pirate ship!

me and my homies on the boat

Famous picture of a whirlpool. Not necessarily Naruto's.

This is Naruto the cartoon character. I have never seen the show, but it is consistently in the top five most-watched animes on my anime website. But I couldn't get past the first two minutes. Maybe I should give it another shot, now that I have been to the place from whence his name may have been derived. But I doubt it. He looks too much like a cat. 

On to Naoshima!

Kochijo

Kochijo, or Kochi Castle (as it is known in the guide book), is a very lovely castle located in Kochi City. It's about half a mile from the train station, surrounded by a very beautiful park filled with trees. There is a courtyard (sort of) where you can have a picnic under the cherry blossoms (check - done) and many many stairs to walk up, just in case you have a mind to attack the castle. You won't by the time you get to the top. Especially if you encounter the three rooms of sitting samurai. First the least-skilled and least-experienced noobs - after they die, you work your way up to the emperor's sitting room, where two more samurai are waiting in the closet to kill you if you look too scary. No kidding. You can die, just like that.

Kochi Castle is also one of the only castles in Japan in which you can go all the way up to the top. Let us take a look-see, ne?

Said tower from below

From said tower

It actually is quite cool, because as I said before, most of the castles in Japan (if not all the rest except this one) do not let you walk out and enjoy the absolute terror induced by your completely irrational fear of heights as Kochi Castle does.

Kochi ken is really quite beautiful from up here. It is a wonderful-looking city from far away and the mountains that hem it in are picturesque in the extreme.

Let's continue. I'm getting woozy.

Cool shot

Picturesque. Yes, I am complimenting my own photography.
Pretty soon, I'll start leaving comments on the comment forum
gushing over my fabulous writing style.

Back to the courtyard and such.

In the castle grounds is a little park where you can have a picnic.
Many different groups were already set up, some complete with indoor furniture and tarpaulins,
their coolers already opened, the sake bottles floating around, and the alcohol loosening tongues
and morals within the pretty grounds.

Ha ha! Just kidding about the morals.

But probably not when they got home...