Thursday, December 6, 2007

Mt. Shosha, Himeji

About a week or two following our trip to Kyoto, we returned to Himeji. The occasion? An all-you-can-eat Thanksgiving dinner: ostensibly for American ALTs, though we managed to get ourselves invited anyway. Given that we had a day to kill, a few of us--namely Dan K, Goran, Amanda, Emma and myself--decided to meet at the JR station early(ish) in the morning and hike up Mt. Shosha.

(As with the previous post, click the images to see slideshows.)

Though I doubt it's a tidbit of information I'll be proud to relate to my grandkids in years to come, Mt. Shosha is famous for being one of the locations of the Tom Cruise vehicle The Last Samurai (which was mainly filmed in New Zealand). At its summit lies Engyo-ji Temple, which in my view ranks alongside some of the temples of we saw in Kyoto in terms of its beauty, and has the added benefit of being situated at a reliable distance from downtown Himeji. It took us a little while--not to mention the aid of the bilingual Dan and a helpful local--to find the path leading up the mountain, and on the whole I'd have to declare it a little more difficult than Sumaura. (But no less enjoyable.) Fortunately, Emma and I are obliged to scale a mountain to get to our bus stop each day, so we were more than capable of handling this little hillock.


At the top of the mountain, and at the door of the Engyo-ji complex, we took advantage of a lookout. Himeji looks amazing from this vantage point, flanked by rolling green mountains, and with outlying hills rising like islands from the surrounding metropolis. This is the kind of view that makes hiking up a mountain--as opposed to taking the ropeway--all the more worthwhile. You feel as if you've earned it, somehow.



Engyo-ji itself is a massive complex, and the temple proper is a fair distance from the gates, but at this time of year (autumn) the hike is a reward in itself. The path leading from the gates to the temple buildings is lined with buddhas, and close to the gate there is a large temple bell which visitors are welcome to toll. (It is supposed to bring good luck.)The buildings themselves are impressive. Depending on which route you take from the gate, the massive main building appears before you very suddenly, over the crest of a hill. Behind the main temple are the lecture theatres, arranged around a wide courtyard. It was here, evidently, that the scenes from The Last Samurai were shot. (I was inspired thus to regale my fellow travellers with the curious beliefs of the Scientologists, which are summarised here.)
But IMHO the main attraction of Engyo-ji is the flora--chiefly the red momiji (maple), and I'm afraid that our photography can't really do justice to the combination of bright greens and yellows, and brilliant, sharp reds, that we saw there that day. (Even after Emma's great editing work.)
It's one of those things that you have to see for yourself.

Let's see . . . what else did we do that day? Well, after hiking back down the mountain (precariously), we made our way to an onsen (hot spring) in the CBD. Neither Emma and I had been to one before, and I was a little concerned that I would be denied entry because of my tattoo, but nobody seemed to mind. Goran and Dan showed me the ropes: the art of a good onsen, as I understand it, is to subject your body to extremes of heat and cold, and repeat this process until you're ready to be flayed alive and eaten. (That's if the sauna doesn't cook you first.) Then you take a dip in the hot spring briefly before fleeing the hungry locals.

At the Thanksgiving the Australian table (with two Americans along for the ride) was the life of the party, naturally. Although the party was held at a restaurant the food was homestyle--though in a good way (go to Miss Mauds in Perth if you want to try it the bad way): mashed potatoes, chilli con carne, stuffing (mmm . . . stuffing) and turkey (of course). Dan and myself did ample justice to the all-you-can-eat terms of reference, downing six plates between us. Afterwards a group of us finished the evening at a karaoke bar--it is the law here, after all--in a raucous session truncated (to half an hour) by the fact that we all had trains to catch.

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