The famous floating torii of Miyajima

Japan is, in my very humble opinion, one of the most beautiful countries in the world. Certainly it’s one of the most accommodating to travellers. The country offers a stunning juxtaposition between the modern and the traditional, all easily accessible via one of the world’s most modern transportation networks. Hop on the shinkansen (bullet train) in Tokyo and head north into the mountains, and within an less than an hour the seething mass of humanity and skyscrapers gives way to rice fields, endless bamboo forests, and soaring alpine scenery.

In addition to anime news and reviews and the like, it’s also my goal to share with you my passion for other aspects of Japanese culture. As a former resident of Tokyo and a card-carrying Japan-o-phile, I always enjoy talking about the many fascinating and unique experiences I’ve had while traveling throughout the Land of the Rising Sun. To that end, I hope to put together these little travel diaries from time to time as I feel motivated, giving you a window into my journies.

Since it’s Obon season right now, I thought it would be fitting to show you a little bit about one of my more memorable Obon adventures. Guff hasn’t been to Miyajima yet (the poor sap), so this post will be just me (0rion).

Miyajima Island is one of Japan’s three traditional “most scenic places” to visit, and the island’s famous “floating” torii gate is quite possibly the single most photographed structure in all of Japan. In addition to being a popular tourist attraction just in general, every year during the height of Obon the island becomes the site of one of the most spectacular fireworks festivals in all of Japan. I had the great pleasure to be able to attend last year’s festival, and I can confirm that it is indeed a sight to behold.

Hiroshima’s A-Bomb Memorial Peace Park

During the Obon season pretty much every single accomodation on the island gets booked almost a year in advance, so I stayed on the mainland in nearby Hiroshima and took a ferry to get to Miyajima.

Even while approaching the island, the torii serves as a striking landmark. I was a bit surprised at all the people with tarps along the shoreline who had camped out the best spots to see the fireworks from - even though it was only 9 in the morning!

My second surprise came when I was immediately accosted by at least 20 semi-tame deer after disembarking on the island. I say “semi-tame” because they seem to have absolutely no fear of humans whatsoever, they walk around like they own the place, and they’ve become accustomed to being fed by people. As a result, they aggressively chase after anyone who looks like an easy target, including small children and the elderly, and will quickly devour any unsecured personal items, whether they’re edible or not. I saw one guy who got his tourist pamphlets eaten when a deer snuck up behind him and grabbed them right out of his hand!

They’re even walking in the street

Deer liek loli

Itsukushimajinja

The torii gate is a part of Itsukushimajinja, the island’s resident Shinto shrine. The shrine itself is constructed so that during high tide it appears to be floating on the surface of the water. I understand that walking along the shrine’s floating corridors with the waves lapping along either side is supposed to be a rather magical experience, but with the festival crowds in full force it was pretty packed, so I decided to pass. Since I had time to kill before the real festivities, I instead started heading up the mountain to check out the view from its 535 meter summit.

At first it was pretty fun, surrounded by the beautiful foliage and Japan’s signature giant black swallowtailed butterflies, which are big enough that from a distance I’ve mistaken them for birds on occasion.

After a while, however, the steepness of the climb increased dramatically, to the point where I was basically ascending a 2 kilometer long staircase. It was a hot August afternoon, I didn’t have any water with me, and I wasn’t sure how far it was to the summit, so eventually I chickened out and headed back down to take the ropeway instead. Only later did I realize that I had come within a hundred feet of the upper ropeway station. It had been just out of sight around the bend. Ah well. The ropeway made for a pretty fun ride, so I didn’t mind too much.

Hiroshima city visible in the background

If the deer own the lower regions of the island, then the monkeys are surely the rulers of the summit. They were absolutely everywhere. While they weren’t as openly aggresive as the deer had been, they certainly weren’t afraid of humans either. For the most part they ignored the people and went about their business, although a few of the more adventurous ones seemed to enjoy loitering along the side of the trail and people-watching. I kept hoping for them to throw poo at the passersby, but they seemed content just watching the crowds trekking up and down the mountain, as though this was some kind of huge entertainment for them.

The sign says, “Monkeys are present around here.”
Yeah, no kidding.

Yup, there they are all right.

This guy seemed pretty deep in thought. Enough so that I was able to sneak up and get a nice close-up of him.

Isn’t Engrish wonderful?

“We do not hope to be such a monkey.”

The Japanese tourists couldn’t figure out why I kept laughing. By the way, the katakana on the right there says “geppu”, which means “burp”.

“Sup.”

Being the boss monkey is serious business.

There was even a mother with her baby relaxing in the shade.

They didn’t seem to mind me at all.

After hanging out with the monkeys for a while, I decided to make the final trek up to the summit. Although it wasn’t too far, the final segment of the trail was without the benefit of canopy cover, and climbing stairs in the burning August sun takes its toll pretty quickly.

Part of the trail had been washed away in a recent typhoon.

I stopped for a quick break at this little shrine near the top of the island. See that little white box standing on the table in the lower-left corner of the picture? It turned out to be a cooler full of Ramune with a sign that said, “It’s hot outside, so please take one and leave a donation in the box.” All right!

I’ve never been so glad to chug down a refreshing bottle of Ramune. Mmm, I can still taste it now.

At long last, the summit.

I finally arrived at the summit in the early afternoon. Note the Coke vending machine there. You just can’t get away from those things in Japan; they’re absolutely everywhere. You know, it must really suck to be the guy who has to restock that thing. Unless you’re flying in on a helicopter, the only way to get anything up there is to just lug it up the mountainside, one stair at a time.

Continue reading part 2.