On one side of the hall, a group of around 10 monks were chanting a Tantric version of a Perfect Wisdom Sutra, while on the other side a nun was engaged in a goma ceremony. I had little understanding of what was going on which limited my engagement. One nice touch was that the monks invited the observers (there were 8 of us) to participate in one section of the ritual. I was invited to place a water bowl on a stand and then to sprinkle some incense on a brazier.  I wasn’t sure what it all meant in the context of the ritual but I didn’t mind.

Eventually, the ritual came to an end and I had managed to sit through it. By now I had noticed that not all of the monks were Japanese; the guy orchestrating the ritual appeared European as did one of the nuns. The European monk turned out to be German and he invited all the observers for tea which was a nice touch. He was called Kurt and spoke quite a bit of English and so he explained a few elements of the ritual to me and I told him a bit about my background. A few minutes later the nun arrived who was called Sanya and was Croatian. Both spoke Japanese, English, and whose knows what else. Sanya had been translating a Shingon text into English as part of a Ph.D project. It never ceases to amaze me how adaptable some Europeans can be.

I had a more extended talk with Sanya and she explained that the goma ceremony is concerned with the purification of defilements. There is a series of visualisations that goes with the ritual, especially of the deity Fudō Myo-o, who I have mentioned previously and who is especially concerned with the eradication of spiritual obstacles. Sanya also explained that some of the sticks she throws on the ritual fire are from congregation members who hope through having these sticks offered and burnt that they themselves will also be purified. The more I talked with Sanya and Kurt I began to realise that their spiritual lives and training was not really so different from mine. Both seemed to have quite an ecumenical, inclusive attitude and had clearly studied many things. Sanya had previously practised Zen for instance. Increasingly, the Buddhist world is a global one and to be a Buddhist means to be aware of the entire legacy of the Buddhist tradition, not just one little corner.

I had mixed feelings about my temple stay. Yesterday evening I felt myself wishing I hadn’t bothered: it was cold, noisy, and very expensive. However, today having attended the ritual and learnt something of the lives of some Japanese temple priests I felt pleased to have had the encounter. I was so impressed by the dedication and sincerity of the European priests who have transplanted themselves into an alien culture in order to engage with the Buddha-Dharma.

As I now sit typing this final posting in my Osaka hotel room on the eve of my return to the UK, I am reflecting on my good fortune to have been able to visit Japan and, in particular, all the people who have helped me to get here and to find my way around while I have been here. Rather than single individuals out, I will follow the general Mahayana procedure at the end of any act that my produce benefits:

May the merit gained

In my acting thus

Go to the alleviation of the suffering of all beings.

May all be embraced and blessed by the spirit of universal compassion that is Kannon.

Osaka CastleI left Kyoto yesterday morning. It was a strange feeling. I don’t think I was conscious of the fact that I wouldn’t be returning. The chances are I will never go there again, although of course I would like to at some point in the future. I headed for Osaka for the final leg of my journey and checked into the hotel where I have already stayed a couple of times. I then decided to make for the Osaka Aquarium which some fellow travellers had recommended. It was definitely worth the effort. Besides all manner of fish, the aquarium has penguins, otters, dolphins, and even a few sharks. It was fantastic to see marine life so close up; I don’t think I had experienced that before. After the aquarium I headed on to Osaka Castle which, besides having a very attractive castle, functions as a massive park and many parties were out picnicking with their dachshunds and other mini-dogs in tow. I was slightly disturbed to see one dachshund kitted out in dungarees. Anyway, it was a beautiful day and hanging out in the Osaka Castle park was just the way to enjoy a few hours of it.

This morning I left most of my baggage at the hotel and headed for my final pilgrimage destination: Koyasan. Koyasan is the mountain headquarters of the Shingon sect of Buddhism, which is Japanese tantra or esoteric Buddhism. Koyasan is more or less a monastic town which comprises numerous temples affiliated to the sect. The ascent to Koyasan is quite dramatic. The lower slopes are climbed via a regular train which snakes its way around the mountain puffing and rattling its way higher and higher. At the terminus, one transfers to a cable car which seems to rise almost vertically up the mountainside. On exiting the cable car, it is possible to take a bus into Koyasan town but I chose to walk – it was only 3K. Although along a road, it was actually  quite a pleasant walk since there was no traffic and it was a warm morning. I eventually I arrived at the Daimon, or main gate, which is a very impressive edifice, through which I stepped reverentially after being suitably warned by its colossal guardians. From there, I walked down into Koyasan proper and began to explore the temples.

A Monk on KoyasanMy first impressions of Koyasan were that I was a little disappointed. I think it is partly a result of having seen so many temples already, I was suffering ‘temple fatigue’. After a disjointed beginning, I started to find my focus and went to the main temple, known as Kongobuji. It is a very beautiful complex although it didn’t seem especially welcoming. A highlight was the painted screens that adorned many of the temple’s rooms; these included paintings of Japanese cranes and some very elegant ink-trace sketches of people. The temple also had a very attracted dry garden. While at Kongobuji I took the chance to get the temple’s goshuin or stamp. I had been told that Koyasan is a bangai temple for the Saigoku pilgrimage. This means that it is an extra, unnumbered temple that may be added to one’s nokyōchō. So I had the goshuin inscribed on a spare page of Saigoku notebook. And that will be the final entry.

After the temple, I headed for the museum which houses some of the sect’s artistic treasures. There were some beautiful images inside, both sculptures and paintings. I was especially struck by several sculpted images of Dainichi Nyorai (Vairochana). There were also many images of wrathful Buddha figures, including the almost ubiquitous Fudō Myo-o who looks very fierce indeed, brandishing a sword in his right hand and some kind of lasso in his left. I have not come across this figure in Indo-Tibetan Buddhism, although there are other figures who express similar energies and characteristics. The Japanese have clearly been very attracted to these belligerent-looking figures since their likenesses are commonly seen in temples. Not only this but it is also very common to place images of protectors in temples, either two, four or twelve.

After the museum I entered the Garan, another temple precinct filled with thatched buildings and Garden at Kongobujinotably the Konpon daitō, which is a pagoda housing a 3-d mandala of Dainichi surrounded by four other Buddhas, then various bodhisattvas painted on to surrounding pillars. Mandalas are central to Shingon, as they are to Tibetan Buddhism, and function as expressions of both reality and Awakening. According to one temple leaflet that I picked up, Kukai (also known as Kobo Daishi) – the founder of Shingon in the 9^th century – ‘taught that the universe is itself a vast Buddha, personified as the cosmic Buddha, Mahavairochana [Dainichi]. All beings are inherently identical with Mahavairochana, and so also inherently equal to one another. The deep wisdom and realization of the Buddha Vairochana is always immediately accessible to all, because it is the very nature of all being.’ So there you have it.

After contemplating this Buddha that is reality, and so also me and all other beings, I headed for the cemetery, known as Okunoin, another notable site on the mountain. Actually, it’s huge and I ended up having two visits – one before checking into my shakubo, or temple lodging, and one after. By now I was feeling pretty tired and it was also check-in time so I headed for Muryokoin which is one of many temples on Koyasan which offer lodging. Be warned though, they are not cheap. In fact, it is the most expensive place I have stayed while in Japan.

Dinner at MuryokoinI am sitting typing this in my rather lovely, Japanese-style room with tatami matting underfoot, shoji-style sliding doors, and painted friezes of cranes on the walls. Around 5.30pm a monk brought me my vegetarian dinner, which consisted in a mountain of all kinds of different foods including sesame tofu, tempura, various vegetables, rice, and whatnot. It really was a feast.



The Ferry to Chikubushima

HogonjiI was already beginning to feel that my decision to postpone Hogonji until today was a good one as there was no rain and the weather was fair. Chikibushima Island is in the middle of a vast lake called Biwa. The crossing took half an hour. I had thought that it was possible to walk around the whole island but in the event there was only a small part of it that was accessible. Hogonji was more or less right next to the ferry terminal up several flights of very steep steps – you can’t get away from those steps when visiting temples it seems. Before long I had made my offering, got my stamp and there was little else to do accept watch the herons and ospreys wheeling overhead and wait for the return ferry. Hogonji was not an especially notable temple, except for its location of course. The hondō was quite attractive I guess, having a thatched roof.

Soon I was heading back to shore and when I arrived there I returned to the train station and caught the next service for Maibara where I changed for Ogaki. I knew that my destination station was quite a small one so I looked into leaving my luggage at Ogaki. But there were only a few lockers and all were in use. I would have to carry my pack – again. At Ogaki, I transferred to a Trumption-stype railway called the Tarumi line. The train had only one carriage and travelled at about 20 miles an hour, stopping at stations that were no larger than regular bus stops on the way. We were heading out into the countryside and I found it hard to remain confident that I was going on anything other than a wild goose chase. I should have had more faith.

A Train on the Tarumi RailwayEventually we arrived at the tongue-twisting Tanigumiguchi station – just a bus shelter really – where my information said it was a 3.5K walk to the temple. This is what I was worried about with my pack. But when I arrived at the station, there was a bus waiting that took me to within 500m of the temple. I quickly approached, made my offering and went to get my final stamp. I was expecting some kind of congratulation or at least some show of interest but the monks didn’t seem remotely diverted by the completion of my little odyssey. The only thing different here was that at Kegonji one receives three stamps (and, of course, pays 3 stamp fees too!). It all felt rather an anti-climax. I was expecting Kegonji to be a super-temple proclaiming its identity as the final of the 33 temples on the pilgrimage but actually it was just a fairly small and not very remarkable provincial temple. It may well be that because few people now do the pilgrimage in order of the temple numbers the fact that Kegonji is the last of the 33 is less important than it once was.

The Main Gate at KegonjiBefore long, I was heading back to the station wondering what it was all about: what I have I spent the last four weeks doing? And why? Rather than feeling a sense of spiritual uplift, I felt a little deflated. This is probably not surprising. Have I been engaged in an extended ritual or simply a lot of sightseeing? It’s really hard to distinguish these, as I suggested in an earlier post. What I will say though is that the pilgrimage was not really in the destinations but in the spaces between, in the travelling, in the shared smile, the generosity offered and taken, the impromptu chat on the train, the calling to mind of friends back home. It was in these liminal moments that the pilgrimage came alive as I committed myself to the unknown future, and opened myself to the uncertainty of encountering new experiences and people. In a sense, as it always must me, the pilgrimage was a journey of inner at least as much as outer discovery. In this process, I found new resources within, a well of resilience, and a higher degree of self-containment than I thought I was capable of. Mostly, I enjoyed being me, on my own, witnessing - and at times participating in - an alien world free of the obligations of smalltalk and the familiar that masks the otherness that resists our attempts to take it into ourselves.

Soon I was heading back to Ogaki where I conceived the plan to catch the shinkansen (bullet train) back to Kyoto. One of my many subgoals on this trip was to ride the shinkansen and I thought I had missed my chance when I didn’t take it to Himeji. However, there is a shinkansen line through Maibara, where I had to get a connection after Ogaki. So I bought my ticket at Ogaki, hopped on the next train to Maibara, and then caught an immediate shinkansen connection to Kyoto. We were almost there before I had finished my coffee. It was a very satisfying travel experience, although I do think that the Spanish Ave is comparable. Although I must say the shinkansen does have huge amounts of leg room and the ride is very smooth.

I was back in Kyoto before 5.30pm and at my hotel before 6pm. All done and dusted. I now have a free day in Kyoto tomorrow, although I am sure I will find some temples that I feel a need to go visit…

When I left Milind’s house it was raining hard and for the second time on my trip I have lost my umbrella. There must be tens of thousands of lost umbrellas in Japan! Outside some shops I think they allow you to take umbrellas that others have left. I am hoping that the weather clears up, especially for my visit to the island.

Milind was a very kind host and cooked me a tasty Indian meal and also made chai. This was all very welcome as I had been surviving on convenience meals for some time. I am so impressed at the cultural adjustment that he has made in moving to Japan from India. They really couldn’t be more different places.

In my haste to get to my first destination, I ended up requesting the wrong ticket at JR Osaka but the one I had purchased was still good enough to get me to Omihachiman, where I arrived with no problem, picking up an abandoned umbrella on the way. However, my trip gave the lie the truism that Japanese trains are never late: mine was fifteen minutes behind schedule. Having rushed from the Osaka ticket office to the platform to make it with a minute to spare, I then spent 10 or so minutes waiting for the train to come! And it got still later en route; I felt like I was back home again.

Chomeji in the RainAfter dropping off my luggage at a locker, I easily found the bus to Chomeji (T31) temple. When I arrived at the terminus it was still raining hard and I had a steep walk uphill for 1.5K to reach the compound. Chomeji is a small temple and there is nothing exceptional about it, except perhaps the view over Lake Biwa (although I couldn’t really see it owing to the weather conditions). When I arrived at the hondō, I was the only visitor and I quickly made my offerings and got my stamp. After a visit to the bell tower to give the main temple bell a sound clang, I was off down the hill again. Rather than take the road, I went down a very steep flight of steps which descended all the way to the base of the hill. Before long, I was back at Omihachiman station.

In the meantime, my mind had been working overtime. My original plan to visit the island on the lake seemed both ambitious and also ill-timed owing the weather conditions. I conceived an alternative plan, which was to head for Kannonshoji (T32), a temple reached from Notogawa, further up the track. On arriving at Notogawa, I looked for a locker to secure my luggage before heading for the temple. It turned out there were none. This was the first train station I had been to thus far that did not have lockers. I asked if I could leave my bag in the ticket office but there was nothing doing so I had to carry it with me. I judged that I might be able to leave it at a shop en route to the temple.

I found the correct bus immediately and it set off after a couple of minutes, dropping me off at the requisite stop with all my gear in the pouring rain. After a certain amount of wandering around, I was eventually pointed towards the temple. No one told me I was to walk up a steep mountain path, through the middle of a wood, while it was pouring with rain. I had a walk of some 3K, with my backpack and computer bag, to the top. Thinking about it now, it all seems rather comical but at that time I was being soaked by both the rain and my own sweat. It was a tough walk! I reasoned that there really must be another route to the temple. I eventually reached the end of the climb to see a bus load of pilgrims calming sauntering towards their bus. There was a road up after all.

KannonshojiKannonshoji seemed rather unremarkable too. However, it seemed as though the hondō had recently been renewed and there was a large, seated 1000-armed Kannon installed in it. It was carved from wood and also seemed to be new. It wasn’t great picture taking weather so after getting my temple stamp I headed down the road. It was much easier going than the path on the way up and before long I arrived at the base of the mountain, except that I didn’t know which way to go. Eventually, I guessed and after a short walk came across a shop. I asked the sales assistant about the bus to Notogawa and he pointed me to a stop about 50 yards away. As I approached the stop the bus arrived and my backpack carrying nightmare was over.

I then headed towards Nagahama where I had booked a hotel for the night. It was still raining heavily and I really had had enough of walking so I took a taxi to my hotel. Taking a taxi in Japan is a bit like cutting into an artery then hoping you won’t bleed to death before you reach your destination. They really are very expensive. No one at the hotel speaks any English but this doesn’t bother me: I have a bath, internet access, and can begin to dry out all my wet clothes and luggage.

All being well, I will complete the 33 temple circuit tomorrow, then head back to Kyoto.

Itinerary: Ikeda to Umeda (Hankyu line) – walk to JR Osaka (five mins.) – JR Special Rapid to Omihachiman – Bus to Chomeji – 1.5 walk to temple – walk and bus back to Omihachiman – train to Notogawa – bus to Kannonshoji-guchi – 3K walk to temple (with backpack!) – walk via road to bus stop – bus to Notogawa – train to Nagahama – taxi to Nagahama Business Hotel



I began to realise that capsule hotels function as some kind of male pleasure parlour – a kind of Japanese version of a gentleman’s club; no women are allowed to stay here. There are all kinds of lounge chairs and beds to chill out in, a sauna, Jacuzzi, showers, TVs etc. The only downside is that people can smoke here – well, and everything’s in Japanese. After my massage, I checked out the Jacuzzi and spent a pleasant hour there. The hotel provides soap, towels, razors, shaving cream, and pretty much everything a man might need to use to smarten himself up; you can even buy underpants, socks, and vests from the vending machine. I did find the environment complicated to interact with though; I seemed to be constantly changing from one form of clothing to another – or none at all –putting stuff in one locker or another, exchanging one key for another, and so on. Eventually, I began to get the hang of it all. As everything, it’s all very logical.

My main concern about the capsule was whether I would be able to sleep in what is effectively a large coffin with a whole at one end. Actually, once you are inside the capsule feels quite roomy – it’s a bit like being in a tent. Mine was kitted out with a TV, although naturally all the channels were Japanese. I began to think I could sleep well here until I lay down and the drilling began, which lasted most of the night. There must have been a major building project going on immediately outside the hotel since workmen were drilling, grinding, and generally making a massive racket. Eventually, I went back to my locker and retrieved some ear plugs, which I had thoughtfully brought for such occasions. After that I was fine, although I was pretty hot all night; if there was an air conditioning system I couldn’t find it.

I woke fairly early and decided to make an early start back to Osaka to head towards my next temple, hoping to capitalise on the fact that I am ahead of schedule. I got to Himeji station before 8am and bought a ticket. As I arrived on the platform, I realised that I left the Danish pastry and croissant that I had just bought at the ticket office. I found myself wondering if the ticket officer would notice and maybe come and bring it to me – he did! It wasn’t a deliberate test but further confirms my high opinion of Japanese courtesy.

The Pond at KatsuojiThe temple that I am visiting today, Katsuoji (T23) is not one of the easiest to reach – according to my information there are only 3 buses a day. I had hoped to catch the early bus but in the event by the time I had got to Osaka to change for a subway to catch the bus (if you follow), it was already too late so I decided to pause, gather my fractured thoughts, have a coffee, and write a little update.

Although I had a bit of waiting around for the bus at Senrichuo, my connections worked out fine. As is usual with bus approaches to temples, the ride was uphill around winding narrow roads. When I arrived at Katsuoji the sun was out and it was developing into a lovely day. The temple immediately gave me a good feeling as I could hear chanting and drumming being broadcast over loudspeakers throughout the temple complex. As I entered the compound, a large pond was throwing up a veil of mist and, for a moment, it all seemed rather mystical.

Daruma Dolls at KatsuojiKatsuoji was pleasantly laid out with a number of terraces sheltering its complex of buildings. One thing I immediately noticed was a large number of Daruma dolls around the temple. These are loosely based on the semi-legendary Zen figure of Bodhidharma. Only later did I learn that Katsuoji is specifically linked to bringing good fortune and people buy the dolls in order to attract it. Once I had found the hondō, I followed my usual procedure and got my book stamped. Only four more temples to go!

At the Noodle MuseumHaving reached Katsuoji I felt considerable relief and the rest of my day unfolded in a relaxed way. I found my way back to Osaka and then went on to Ikeda where I had arranged to meet Milind, the Indian guy with whom I had visited Daigoji. Milind had offered to put me up for the night on my travels and it seemed polite to accept. On our way to Milind’s house, he took me to a noodle museum, which celebrates the introduction of the instant noodle. I even got to make my own ‘Cup Noodle’ drawing on it my own design and selecting the ingredients.

Milind is a very personable and generous host – as Indian people often are. He has clearly done remarkably well in establishing himself here. Japan could not be more different from India! Like many other Indians I know, he has already established for himself a wide-ranging network here.

After eating, I pondered to consider my next move. I am still a day ahead of schedule but my next four temples are each quite distant and some may prove tricky – one of them is on an island in the middle of a lake. I am going to try to reach two of them tomorrow and then the final two the following day. If I accomplish this then I will have a day in hand. Let’s see how I do.

Itinerary: train from Himeji to Osaka – transfer to Mitsuoji subway to Senrichuo – bus to Katsuoji -return to Senrichuo by bus - subway to Osaka - transfer to Hankyu Umeda to Ikeda.



Ceiling Painting at Kenninji

Gardening at KenninjiKenninji is a beautiful temple complex. It’s quite large and has lovely garden grounds with many trees, ponds, and flowers. As I arrived, gardeners were working furiously collecting old leaves, hoeing, and sweeping. Only a little while later did I realise that they were monks observing the Zen principle of work as spiritual practice. As it turned out, something important was happening at Kenninji that day, although I wasn’t able to determine what. There were many police officers directing traffic around the temple compound and a general sense of bustle. This also meant that much of the normal public space of the temple was closed, which was quite a disappointment. I was only able to see inside the building used as the main hall, which has an impressive ceiling painting of nagas.

I felt a little under-served by my Kenninji experience so I decided to walk through the Gion district to a Shinto shrine and a further temple complex. On my way, I passed many more police officers directing traffic. Japanese officials direct traffic as though it were the most solemn and important event in the world. It amazes me that what is no more than waving cars through or making them stop can appear as though it were some event of global significance. I can only think that there cannot be much crime in Kyoto otherwise the use of so many officers to direct traffic would seem hard to justify. Still, it’s great watching them at work.

Later I met with Kaori, my Japanese couch-surfing friend, for a goodbye and thankyou lunch. En flanant, we passed through the famous Nishiki food market and Kaori pointed out to me various Japanese delicacies. The Japanese certainly seem to have a penchant for radishes. Kaori has given me so much help making arrangements, finding bus times, interpreting information and so on; she really has made my visit to Japan a lot easier and consequently the completion of my pilgrimage much more enjoyable. She has been so generous with her time and knowledge and I am very grateful for this. It really is quite difficult getting the information one needs without at least a smattering of Japanese and to have a native speaker help with this makes a huge difference.

After picking up my things from the ryokan, I headed off to Osaka, back to the Hotel Chuo Oasis for the night. When I arrived, a group of French tourists was checking in as its flight home had been cancelled owing to the volcanic eruption in Iceland. This made me wonder if I will be delayed in my own return home but it is too early to say yet. It may be that the chaos has been sorted out by then. Let’s hope so.

By now I was feeling exhausted again and just lay on my bed for an hour or so. I think the cumulative effect of all the walking is really beginning to have an effect now and it seems that even when I sleep well I have not recovered by the next day. I had been looking forward all day to going for a curry in the Shinimamiya district, as I had previously eaten there a week or so before. Curry is one thing that vegetarians can get the world over and can be a bit of a lifesaver. However, having worked up my appetite and walked round and round trying to find the curry house it became apparent that it was closed. So it was cold food from the convenience store again.

Himeji CastleI am back on the pilgrimage trail again today heading towards Himeji, which is west of Osaka. I had intended to take the shinkansen or ‘bullet train’ simply to have the experience of riding it. In the event, it was simpler (and half the cost) to take the regular train so I am sitting on it now. The next few days involve a complex series of journeys as I polish off the remaining temples. If all goes to plan, I will have reached all the temples by Sunday afternoon. Let’s hope so.

A Further Note on Toilets with a Comment on Slippers

For those of you who have not visited Japan, there are many notable features of Japanese toilets, some of which I have noticed in early posts. A few more things are worth mentioning now. First, whenever you go into a toilet, you remove the slippers that you are already wearing and put on special toilet slippers (often having the label ‘toilet’ printed on them). Life can become quite complex what with toilet slippers, indoor slippers, no slippers (on tatami matting), and then sandals for some other spaces; that’s without putting on your outdoor shoes which you normally leave on a shoe rack but in the evenings carry up to your room. Life seems a constant succession of putting on and taking off of footwear desperately trying to remember which kind of footwear you should be wearing. More than once I have found myself wandering around in toilet slippers then having to rush back to the toilet to exchange them for my regular indoor slippers.

Second, I have been struck by the care that is given to the cleaning and presentation of toilets. For instance, whenever you rent a room and use your toilet for the first time you find that the toilet paper has been neatly folded into an arrow type shape to make it easier to use. The same is also done with the tissue box. Besides this, there is always a disposable toothbrush provided and a tiny tube of toothpaste.

Third, I was struck early on by the way that toilet cisterns filled up. In England, the water fills from inside the cistern but here the water pours from a fount down into the cistern. At first this struck me as quite curious and redundant but now I realise that this enables you to rinse your hands as the water runs into the cistern; it effectively functions as a sink. I hope I am correct about this but maybe someone can let me know if I have got it wrong.

Dozo/domo

I have been struggling to acquire any Japanese vocabulary. This may be partly because I have so much to think about with my trip that I really can’t concentrate on language as well but one thing I have picked up is: dōzo and domo. In my view, these must be among the best Japanese expressions. ‘Dōzo’ is one of those wonderful utility words that everything language has like ‘Prego’ in Italian and seems to mean almost anything. At root it seems to mean something like, ‘Please, go ahead.’ For instance, if you are about to enter a temple, an attendant might say ‘Dōzo (Please go in)’. If you give your credit card to a shop assistant and they hand back they will do so solemnly, saying ‘Dōzo (Please take this back). And so on. Moreover, if someone offers you something – say some food or drink – with the accompanying phrase ‘Dōzo’ - the response to this is ‘Domo’ (Thanks). I really like the symmetry of these two expressions.

Later….Engyoji (T27)

A temple at EngyojiThe above was written on the train heading towards Himeji this morning. It already feels a lifetime ago. I arrived at Himeji with no difficulty and once I had deposited my bag in a locker, I headed for the bus stop. More or less immediately I stepped on to the correct bus heading for Mt. Shosha, which was the location of my first temple destination today – Engyoji (T27). All seemed well. After travelling some distance, every passenger on the bus had stepped off except me. I always get worried when I am the only passenger: it makes me think I am going in the wrong direction. But I need not have worried, I soon arrived at the foot of Mt. Shosha where my information told me there was a ‘ropeway’ to the temple.

Cable Car Towards EngyojiI had no real idea what this meant and I had visions of those rope bridges you see stretched across ravines in the jungle. Actually, it was a cable-car which rose very dramatically into the air and gave stunning views of Himeji and the surrounding area. It reminded me a little of the assent to Monserrat, near Barcelona, if you have been there. In just a few minutes we reached the top, although again there were only three or four other passengers. There was a shuttle bus that ran the 1K to the temple complex but you will know by now that I always prefer to walk so I did. Very soon I fell in step with a mature Japanese couple and the man struck up conversation with me. His name was Mr Kiyohara or Kiyoharasan. While Kiyoharasan and his wife were both in their sixties they were pretty keen to walk to the temple too. Kiyoharasan was very friendly and chatty and we quickly established that both he and his wife had already completed the Saigoku route and were now going round a second time. I explained about my own journey and about the fact that I teach Buddhism in England and Kiyoharasan seemed very impressed and pleased. He obviously really enjoyed exercising his English. One point of interest on the approach to Engyoji was that lining the route were 33 Kannon images, one for each of the temples on the circuit and all were individually inscribed with the requisite temple details.

DainichiSoon we reached the main Engyoji compound and I made my offering and got my temple stamp. Kiyoharasan then began introducing me to all and sundry, explaining to a resident monk that I was a Buddhist from England and the monk was very pleased. Engyoji is a large complex, once it must have been very large indeed. I think it would be fair to say, however, that time has passed it by and it now seems very much a relic of another age. Many of the temple buildings look as though they get very little use and are quietly decaying. It was almost like a ghost temple; everyone had left. At the same time, it was a beautiful mountain complex; I really liked it. I walked with the Kiyoharas to a further part of the complex where there was just a single monk – and no other visitors. He spoke some English and explained to me that parts of the Tom Cruise film, The Last Samurai, were filmed in the compound. Having seen the film, I immediately recognised some of the balconies that were used and some of the interiors. One of these buildings was given over to showing off some of the temple’s statuary and there were some beautiful images there including a very fine image of Dainichi.

Again Kiyoharasan was talking about my credentials to the old monk-attendant who seemed suitably impressed and gave me a goshuin (temple stamp) paper for the hall he was in charge of known as the Daikodo. This was a very nice gesture and I thanked him warmly. By now Kiyoharasan had taken a firm liking to me and he knew that it was my plan to visit another temple tomorrow. He insisted that he would drive me there today; I think he was heading there anyway, at least I hope he was. Anyway, how could I object? So we made our way back down the mountain to the Kiyoharas’ car and headed off towards Ichijoji (T26). I would have liked to spend a bit more time at Engyoji but the Kiyoharas were not for lingering and I tagged along. Besides, many of the temples halls were closed anyway.

The KiyoharasI had my first experience of the Japanese expressway and – as everything else in Japan – it seems very efficient, although there did seem to be a lot of tolls to pay en route. The Kiyoharas wanted to stop for lunch and insisted on paying for mine; they were even able to get me a vegetarian udon noodle dish. To thank them I bought them some cake, which I think made them laugh; it wasn’t a great present but I think they appreciated it nevertheless.

Ichijoji (T26)

After taking a bit of a wrong turning, we arrived in quick time at Ichijoji, which was much smaller than Engyoji but reached by several flights of very steep steps. Aside from the Saigoku connection, the temple was really not remarkable, although I guess I have by now seen enough temples to last a lifetime and it needs to be something pretty special to impress me.

IchijojiWhile we were lingering around the nōkyō, a few other pilgrims arrived and I noticed one of them was carrying three pilgrim’s books. I asked Kiyoharasan to ask the lady why she had three books. She explained that one was for herself, the second was for her husband, and the third for her daughter. This further underlines the prevalence of what we might call ‘vicarious pilgrimage’, that is fulfilling the pilgrimage on behalf of someone else in order to bring them merit.

There was no real reason to hang around for long at Ichijoji and anyway I had arranged to meet a couchsurfing connection in Himeji at 4pm. The Kiyoharas very kindly drove me into Himeji and helped me find the rendezvous. It turned out that this was a Japanese garden called Kōkoin and they were interested to visit it. So the three of us walked around the garden, which was absolutely beautiful. Japanese gardens are of a very different character from English ones: there are very few flowers but rather mostly flowering shrubs and a variety of exquisitely tended trees; especially maples and conifers. The garden had several ponds and some oversized Koi swimming through them. Aesthetically, it really was an uplifting experience. Japanese gardens are so immaculately kept; everything is just so. I guess that might irritate some since it gives them something of a formal quality but I really appreciate the care and attention to detail that goes into maintaining such a beautiful natural space.Kokoin Gardens

By now it was 4pm and I had to leave so headed for the exit where I immediately found Reiko, someone with whom I had made contact on the couch surfing network. I said my goodbyes to the Kiyoharas before Reiko and I returned to the garden for tea. Meeting the Kiyoharas was a really fantastic experience for me; they were so kind and generous with their time and I couldn’t help but smile when Kiyoharasan kept apologising for his English not being good. As if my Japanese is any better? I was once again struck by how Japanese people will go out of their way to be helpful. It was truly humbling.

An earlier plan had been to lodge with Reiko for the night and then go to Ichijoji the following day. However, we had had some difficulties making arrangements and in the meantime I had booked a capsule hotel, something that I was keen to experience while here in Japan. So we agreed on an alternative plan which was to meet for some time in Himeji. Reiko speaks pretty good English having been in Australia for a couple of years and having studied in both the US and London. We spent a very enjoyable couple of hours circling Himeji castle and watching the Koi in the moat. She was really very good company. In the event, I was very pleased to have her with me since she helped me find the capsule hotel and to find out how it all worked. She had never seen a capsule hotel before so the receptionist showed us both round. More of the capsule later.

ReikoReiko then helped me with some other practical arrangements and then we said our goodbyes. She had very thoughtfully looked up some temple information which she gave me as well as some temple postcards. I gave her an omamori (amulet) in return. Reiko is a delightful lady and it was very nice to meet her. She was clearly very proud of her hometown and pleased that I enjoyed seeing it.

I am writing this from a Starbucks café in Himeji, just across the road from my capsule hotel. The capsule hotel is really what it sounds like; a bunch of boxes stacked on top of one another in large rooms. However, each box has its own TV, air conditioning, and various other features. I hope I get some sleep there. The hotel, called Capsule Hotel Hawaii, also has its own sauna and massage centre. I may look into some reflexology later if I have time. One thing the hotel does not have is Internet so I must go and find an Internet café to see if I can post this today.

Itinerary: Shinimamiya to Osaka – change for Himeji – bus from Himeji to Mt. Shosha – cable car from base to Engyoji entrance – walk to temple – walk and cable car back to car park – drive to Ichijoji with the Kiyoharas – drive to Himeji.



Model of Lady Murasaki at Ishiyamadera

Donor Lanterns at IwamaderaI left the Ryokan fairly early to catch a train from Kyoto station to Ishiyama where I was told I could catch a bus to Iwamadera. When I approached the bus driver about Iwamadera, he began a lecture about something and I understood not a word. I just kept saying I wanted to go to Iwamadera. I think he was explaining to me that he didn’t go very near Iwamadera. The husband of a couple already on the bus then came up and said he would walk with me to Iwamadera: it turned out that he and his wife were pilgrims too. So we set off. The bus dropped us some 3 or more kilometres from the temple and we had a steep uphill walk to reach it. The couple, who were quite a bit older than me, seemed to manage it with no problem. The day was getting warmer and I was starting to get a bit sweaty but the effort felt worth it. Around 50 minutes later, we reached the temple.

Iwamadera is a very small, modest temple and without the Saigoku connection there would be little reason to visit it. Today, however, was a special day because the hibutsu Kannon – secret Kannon – was being opened for viewing. I was expecting hordes of people but it really wasn’t that busy. I approached the hondō and, as usual, had to pay an extra fee to enter inside to see the hibutsu. I was given a special omamori – or amulet – to mark the occasion. Soon I was face-to-face with the hibutsu. The image was of Senju Kannon – the thousand-armed, eleven-headed Kannon – but what was surprising was that it was only about six inches tall. Compare this to the hibutsu of Hasedera, which was more like 30 feet tall. The image was set inside a small zushi, which is a kind of image house, which was set inside a larger zushi, which had images of protectors painted on the inside of the doors. Attached to the image was a length of wool which extended down towards, and then wrapped around, a large golden vajra or diamond sceptre. I was encouraged to hold the sceptre and say my prayers, so I did.Pilgrims' Staffs at Iwamadera

After visiting the nōkyō there was really little more to do. I had by now missed the direct bus to the train station and was wandering about wondering what to do when it occurred to me that maybe I could walk to Ishiyamadera. I had read in my guidebook that there was a pilgrim’s path all the way. In the event, I had misremembered this; there wasn’t. I began looking for the path and found one that I thought might be it when I bumped into the Japanese couple from earlier on with whom I had walked up the mountain. They were walking to Ishiyamadera so I decided to tag along. It was much easier going now because the walk was mostly downhill. Initially, we walked on a pleasant path through a wooded area but soon came to the road; the very same one we had walked up earlier. It was a fair walk to Ishiyamadera – perhaps 6K – but it really wasn’t too hard.

FellowpilgrimsOn arriving at Ishiyamadera, it soon became apparent that this was a much more popular tourist spot and later I remembered why: it is connected with the writing of the Japanese classic, The Tale of Genji. It is said that Lady Murasaki wrote much of it from within the precincts of the temple. As I entered the compound, the sun was out, there were many people out enjoying the day, and the atmosphere was really very pleasant. As many temple complexes do, Ishiyamadera forms a series of terraces and to get to the hondō I had to climb several flights to steps.

Cake Offering at IshiyamaderaOn payment of an additional fee – of course – I was able to enter the inner section of the hondō and to contemplate the main image, which was a seated, Nyoirin Kannon dating from around the 11^th century, with one foot stepping down to the world to help beings. It was gilded but made of wood. What struck me even more though was an array of cakes arranged on various offering tables. There were tiered stands brimming with the most ornate cakes you might imagine. They reminded me of the tormas or sacrificial cakes that are found in Tibetan Buddhism and then I remembered that Ishiyamadera is a Shingon temple. This is the esoteric school of Japanese Buddhism and draws on some of the same influences as Tibetan Buddhism, although it is clearly very different in many ways too. So the cakes were offerings to the Buddhas and bodhisattvas in the temple.

The Treasure Tower at IshiyamaderaI had a pleasant wander around a number of the other buildings in the compound, including one that is described as a ‘treasure tower’, a wonderful pagoda that houses an image of Dainichi, the primary Buddha of Shingon. By now, I was really beginning to feel my legs and it was all that I could do to limp my way to the nearest train station and catch a ride back to Kyoto. As I exited the station, a guy approached me saying that he wanted to chat in English. I must admit I was a little suspicious as in England this would be very unusual behaviour. He said he was a businessman and planning to visit England ‘Three months later’. He seemed to want to work on his English so I explained to him that we don’t say ‘Three month later’ but ‘In three months time.’ Eventually he appreciated the point. We chatted for a while and I did wonder whether he had an ulterior motive so after a few minutes I explained that I had to go. Thinking back on this experience I really think it was probably very innocent – just a Japanese guy wanting to practise his English. It made me reflect that my experience of some other places has made me rather suspicious, making it harder for me to respond to genuine communication. Still, I did help him with a phrase or two…

Itinerary: Train to Ishiyama - bus to foot of Iwamadera mountain - 3K walk to Iwamadera - walk to Ishiyamadera (about 6K) - train from KeihanIshiyama to Ishiyama station - change for Kyoto.



Horse-headed Kannon at Matsunoodera

The train arrived and I was surprised to see that it had only one carriage. This should have alerted me to the fact that I was heading off the beaten track. The carriage (I can’t really call it a train) stopped at every local station en route to Nishi Maizuru, making generally very slow progress. However, at times I was in direct view of the inland sea and was able to enjoy some stunning views of the coastline. At Nishi Maizuru I had to change for Higashi Maizuru (Nishi and Higashi mean West and East respectively). On arrival at Higashi Maizuru I approached the bus top and asked about a bus to Matsunoodera. The woman running the ticket office pointed to a bus leaving just after midday. I was struggling to communicate what I wanted, and she seemed a little harassed, but eventually I expressed my desire for an earlier bus. There was none. I began to cast a longing glance at the nearby taxi rank. It was either wait 1 ½ hours for the next train or bite the bullet and get my first taxi in Japan. I took the taxi.

Before climbing in, I checked with the driver how much the fare would be as I was anticipating that any ride in a Japanese taxi would be painfully expensive. He suggested Y3000, which was a lot but just about bearable in the circumstances. As it turned out, the journey wasn’t all that far but the final 2K was up a steep, winding hill. Part the way up, the driver indicated to me that the meter had reached Y3000; I thought he was offering me the option to get out there or to pay more. In fact, he turned the meter off so as to honour his original estimate. This was a very thoughtful gesture: I obviously didn’t look rich.

The Hondo at MatsunooderaMatsunoodera turned out to be a very small temple indeed but charming in its own way. Readicker-Henderson describes it as ‘one of the most remote temples you’re ever likely to visit in Japan’. I think that’s about right. He also draws attention to the architecture of the hondō, which has a double-roof without gables and an extruding curved porch. I was struck by this myself as I haven’t seen another building like it. The temple also had an attractive bell tower.

As I approached the hondō, there were only four or five other people at the temple, further confirmation of its relative obscurity. Unlike many of the temples, however, I was able to venture right into the hondō and look closely at the main images, including the principal image. It was not one I recognised but looked like some kind of wrathful Kannon. Unusually, the temple attendant allowed me to photograph it. I later read that this was the ‘horse-headed’ Kannon. This is not a form that I have previously come across and I didn’t find it especially appealing.

Bell Tower at MatsunooderaAfter visiting the nōkyō I was all but done. I noticed a couple of posters of silk paintings that appeared to belong to the temple and I wanted to see them. As I left the nōkyō, I saw a new building which appeared to be a temple museum and I realised that it was here that the important images could be seen. Sadly, it was closed.

There was really no further reason to linger at the temple and so I decided to walk to Matsunoodera station to see if I could pick up some early connections back to Kyoto. On arriving I discovered there was no train due for two hours; this really was an obscure station. I decided to walk back to Higashi Maizuru reasoning that I would manage it quicker than the train.

The walk from the temple to Higashi Maizuru station must have been 8-9K altogether but it wasn’t especially demanding. Part-way along I paused to confirm directions with a truck driver. About an hour later, just as I was about to turn down the road towards the station, he drove by, beeped his horn, and gestured in the right direction; one of those weird bits of synchronicity that happen when you are travelling.

The walk to the station passed farmland and ran alongside a small river. There were a number of farmers out tending their waterlogged plots and it looked like hard work. In particular, there were several bonneted women, wearing thigh-length rubber boots, and digging with handheld hoes. These were not rich Japanese people.Farmer around Higashi Maizuru

When I finally arrived at Higashi Maizuru station, I caught my first break of the day: there was a direct train to Kyoto departing about fifteen minutes later. So I boarded it enabling me to type this.

When I arrived back at Kyoto station, I thought I would have another go at trying to get but times for Iwamadera temple from the tourist information office, which I had unsuccessfully approached a couple of days before. Once more, it seemed, they couldn’t help. The information officer gave me the number for the temple so that I could phone and ask myself but wouldn’t call for me. My one gripe so far about being in Japan has been the Kyoto Tourist Information Office. I have visited it three times now and each time I have approached a desk that says the officer speaks English to find that they don’t. In addition, each time I have come away without the information I needed. Somewhat peeved, I returned to the Ryokan Matsubaya where I will be staying a couple more nights. I spoke to a member of staff there and asked him to help me with the bus situation. He said he would get back to me. Half an hour later he approached me with a printed bus schedule – fantastic! Why couldn’t the Tourist Information Office do the same? Grumble over.

My itinerary has tomorrow as a day off but I am wondering about taking on my next two temples instead, then having a free day Monday. I feel a need to reduce the list of outstanding temples to be visited: currently nine. The secret image opens tomorrow at Iwamadera, which means the temple is likely to be very busy but it might be interesting to be amidst the melée.

Itinerary: train from Amanohashidate to Nishi Maizuru – change for Higashi Maizuru – taxi to Matsunoondera – walk from Matsunoodera to Higashi Maizuru – direct train to Kyoto



Amanohashidate

When I arrived at Amanohashidate, I quickly began to see why it is hyped as one of the three best views in Japan. It is set on an inland part of the Sea of Japan and boasts what is described as the ‘bridge to heaven’, which is a sand-spit spanning the bay covered with pine trees. In order to reach Nariaiji – my destination for today – I needed either to walk across the 3.5K spit or get a ferry. I chose to walk as the weather was relatively fine. There was a suggestion of rain but so far it was only cloudy. I felt quite calm and tranquil as I walked across, although I have been brooding on darker thoughts in recent days.

View from the Approach to NariaijiOn reaching the other side of the bay, I began to ascend towards Nariaiji. The tourist information office had advised me to get the cable car and then the shuttle bus. I reasoned that it couldn’t be that difficult to walk so I did. Before setting off, I thought rain was coming and so bought an umbrella. This turned out to be a wise move. According to the signs, Nariaiji was 1.6K, exactly a mile. How hard can that be to walk? However, I soon realised that at least part of this walk was up a steep set of steps; around 400 metres of them. Soon I was sweating and puffing and stripping off extra layers. Eventually, I reached the end of the steps and arrived at the shuttle bus station. Undaunted, I decided to walk the rest of the way, this time up a steep, single-track road. I was rewarded with some fantastic views back over the bay, although by now the weather was closing in.

By the time I arrived at the Nariaiji compound, I felt tired but satisfied. I really felt as though I had experienced some of the effort required of a pilgrim many centuries back. It is good to feel that it requires an investment of not only time but energy to get to a temple. Now there were still more steep steps, although just a few flights this time. After purifying myself, I entered the hondō, made my offering, and got the all important temple stamp. Nariaiji struck me as a very modest little place, with little pretention. There were very few other visitors and it was very quiet. It is probably very early in the season for visits to this temple, which I imagine often go hand in hand with trips to the other holiday-type attractions of the area.

The Fount at NariaijiAfter I had taken a few photos, an older man approached me and asked if I would take his picture. As he pulled out his camera, I could see two pilgrim’s books but he was travelling alone. As he posed for the picture, in front of the Nariaiji sign, he pulled out a photo, which I assume was of his wife. He held up the photo as I photographed him. He was clearly doing the pilgrimage at least partly on behalf of his wife who either was not able to travel or, most probably, had died. This really touched me and I wanted to ask the man about it but felt it wasn’t appropriate.

As I began to descend – once again walking – it began to rain in earnest and by the time I had reached the bottom of the mountain it was raining hard. I decided to head for the Youth Hostel where I had made a provisional booking. After much wandering to and fro – and getting wetter and wetter – I eventually found it but it seemed that no one would return for several hours. At this stage, I was beginning to feel a little bleak; I was cold, wet, in the middle of nowhere, and felt very isolated. My spirits were dropping and I began to feel what I might describe as ‘existential exposure’. I felt vulnerable, thrown out of the conditions that support my familiar ways of being. I felt intensely aware of my failings and of how I let others down. I felt regret for those who I have hurt. As this dark mood began to spread over me, I felt the need to be somewhere comfortable and supportive so I decided to look for another place to stay on the other side of the bay, near to the train station. This would make it easier to get going tomorrow. Moreover, there are more shops and restaurants there.

Given that it was now pelting down – the heaviest rain I have experienced so far in Japan - I decided to get the ferry across.  In the event, there were only four passengers, which is a sign of how out of season things are just now. As ever, the pilot was obligingly helpful, explaining to me how to buy a ticket from the machine, that I would have to wait for a few minutes, and then going off and photocopying some English language information about the area. I try to say thank you as best I can for all this help and hope I don’t come across as rude because I can’t speak Japanese. The truth is that sometimes I am rather overwhelmed by people’s helpfulness and it is difficult to know quite how to respond.

View from the sand-spitI had read of a reasonably priced hotel in the Rough Guide so I decided to check it out. After about half an hour, I still hadn’t found it and had by now been soaked by the splash of a passing motorist. I decided to throw myself on the mercy of the tourist information office and it came up trumps. No one there spoke English but I managed to communicate my needs. Eventually, a reasonably-priced minshuku was found and I set off to check it out, having some concerns that it would turn out to be a fleapit. On the contrary.

I am typing this from my large, Japanese-style room wearing the accompanying yukata and preparing to use the hot bath. It is not a natural onsen but looks good nevertheless. The owners seem very friendly, although they speak only a few words of English. The one downside is that there is no internet access and so I won’t be able to post this tonight.

Postscript: the onsen was good and hot and heated me up after being cold and damp all day. I went to look for some dinner but it seemed that nowhere was open; it’s that out of season. Instead, I picked up some food from the convenience store, including the Japanese equivalent of a Pot Noodle. Rehydrated noodles and vegetables for dinner; does that make me sad or just practical?



Striking the Bell at Hieizan

Somewhat groggily, I made my way down to breakfast – rather late – and then got my things together to visit Hieizan. Hiezan, and the Tendai sect headquarters of Enryakuji, was somewhere that I had been very much looking forward to visiting. As it is high up a mountain on the outskirts of Kyoto, I had been warned that it might be cold so I wrapped up with an extra jumper and even gloves. Still this turned out to be insufficient. There are many ways to approach Hieizan but the simplest for me proved to be to catch a bus from Kyoto station. The journey takes about an hour as the bus winds its way higher and higher up the mountain, at times revealing stunning views across the Kansai plains. When we finally arrived, I immediately noticed the cooler temperature and after a  few minutes a mixture of light sleet and rain began to fall. It is clearly still early in the visiting season and the mountain proved uncomfortably cold for my sightseeing.

A temple on HieizanEnryakuji has many precincts scattered across the mountain – at one time it was the biggest temple complex in Japan. I had hoped to spend more time there but the combination of the weather conditions and my general fatigue meant that I only felt able to explore the main precinct. One of the highlights here for me was visiting the Kaidan-in. This is the ordination platform hall and it is where Tendai clerical ordinations are conducted. While the present building is much more recent, the kaidan was first established in the 820s, just after the death of Tendai’s founder, Saichō. Until that time, all ordinations in Japan had taken place on the same basis as ordinations in China; that is, by following a vinaya from an early mainstream Buddhist school. There was no distinctively Mahayana ordination, even for Mahayana schools in China, and then Japan. Until Saichō. In Tendai, the ordination was based specifically on Bodhisattva precepts – precepts concerned with helping all beings to gain awakening. These facts make the Tendai ordination a radical development in the history of Buddhism. Moreover, my own ordination within Triratna is also specifically linked to Mahayana principles and so for me there is a link there between my own ritual commitment and that found in Tendai. This was why I was so pleased to see the kaidan-in.

The Kaidan-inBesides the kaidan-in, I looked around some of the other notable buildings in the main complex, including the Amida-do, which housed a lovely golden, seated image of Amida, and the Konpon Chudo (central main hall). As I entered the central main hall, a priest was conducting some sort of fire ceremony. This consisted in tapping strips of kindling on to bowls in front of him and then tossing them on the little pyre he had going in front. To see fire in a wooden building made me aware of how easily – and how often – Japanese temples have burnt down over the centuries. Of course sometimes the burning was deliberate.

I also took a look at the museum which housed some beautiful images of Amida, Kannon, Yakushi, as well as a number of esoteric deities with which I am much less familiar. As with other treasure stores I have visited, there was hardly anyone there but I was uplifted to see such wonderful characterisations of Mahayana Buddhas and bodhisattvas. They have obviously been made with such care and devotion. I noted once again the way in which things are characterised as: a) national treasures, b) important cultural assets, and c) important art objects. I think in that order of importance. All the temples seem to want to emphasise that the government has decided that their heritage is of national significance. This may be partly because it attracts government funding but I am not certain about this.

By now I was very cold and exhausted once again, so I decided to take an early lunch in the café, which turned out to serve vegetarian food. As I was busily slurping my udon noodles, an older guy came past and poured himself some tea from the counter. I was thinking to myself, ‘I wonder if that tea is free and, if so, if I can have some.’ As if he had read my mind, he brought the tea over and offered to me, which I gratefully accepted. As ever, he wanted to know where I was from. Japanese seem to be much more surprised to see English people than Americans, at least this is the impression I have got. When he learnt I was English, he proceeded to give his own rendition of ‘God Save the Queen’ but, because he didn’t know the words, he just used the word ‘Rondon’ (London), instead, over and over. To my amusement and of that of the waitresses in the café, he then started on the Star-spangled Banner.

Having returned to Kyoto from Hieizan, I find myself reflecting on all of the help I have had on this journey so far. Many people helped me before I came, giving information, advice, guidance, or simply encouragement. Without that help I may not have even made it here in the first place. Moreover, while I have been here I have received so much help, especially from Japanese people who have often gone out of their way to make my pilgrimage easier. When receiving such help, it is easy to begin to take it for granted and to forget that others are giving up their time, energy, and sometimes money to help me. This teaches me the lesson of constant gratitude for the benefits that have befallen me and also the importance of continuing to express that gratitude both in word and deed. I am truly privileged and blessed to have this opportunity and I am humbled by the help and support others have freely offered to me. I am truly sorry if at times I have taken this for granted or failed to reciprocate. This serves to remind me, as the Shin Buddhists might say, that I am a foolish being and any benefits I do attract come through the grace of Amida and not through my own deserts.

Tomorrow I will be back on the pilgrimage trail visiting Amanohashidate, on Japan's inland sea. It is billed as one of the three most beautiful places in Japan, so let's see.