Amanohashidate and Kinosaki Haike
At 9:00 a.m. on Saturday 17 November, Tito and I met at JR Sagano-Arashiyama station and began the annual Hailstone Autumn Haike. Our numbers were low but our spirits high. This was my very first foray into northern Kyoto Prefecture; and I had wanted to visit Kinosaki in Hyogo Prefecture ever since I read Shiga Naoya's short story 「城崎にて」 (Kinosaki nite) about a decade ago.
Tito kindly took the driving duties on himself, so apart from ineffectually fumbling with a map from time to time, I was able to fully enjoy the transition from city to countryside, flat lands to hills, and finally inland to coast. Waiting for us at the end of two-and-a-half hours' drive at Chionji temple in Amanohashidate were John Dougill and Mari Kawaguchi. After picking up a little sustenance at the local shops (thanks Mari for your extra homemade sandwich!), we crossed the bridge linking the sandbar with the coast, and soon found ourselves on a beautiful fine-sand, sun-drenched beach, the perfect spot for a picnic lunch.
Next we strolled up the centre of the sandbar, flanked on both sides by pine trees, with frequent glimpses of the sandy shore on each side. While we were viewing a shrine positioned to worship a miraculous fresh-water spring (which sadly was not in a miraculous state), a young local shrine enthusiast turned up on his collapsible bicycle, and in no time had agreed to accompany us on our travels for the day. We next took to the shoreline, and, with John taking the lead, some of us were soon walking barefoot in the surf, dodging the occasional large and purple beached jellyfish.
Barefoot
On this bridge to heaven
The gods and I ...
-- John Dougill
Another fateful meeting was with the 宮司 (guuji, or shrine priest) of the Kono shrine, clad in resplendent hakama. We came across him shortly after saying good bye to John at the shrine and making our tour of the impressive 岩座 (iwakura, holy rocks) there. Tito and the priest found they had much to talk about regarding the origins of some of the most important Shinto deities and the noble clan of Amabe to which the priest belonged (at least, by marriage -- his wife, in black in the middle of the picture, has the actual bloodline).
Next we eschewed the funicular and climbed to the peak of Kasamatsu for the obligatory (but no less impressive for that) upside-down viewing of the Bridge of Heaven as the sun began to sink towards the horizon. We ended our day together with a boat trip back across the bay.
towards pine-trees
crossing over the turning bridge
... scent of the sea
-- Mari Kawaguchi
Then Tito and I drove on to Kinosaki. Our hostesses at the ryokan Ashigaru were eager for us to enjoy our crab meal in as timely a fashion as we could. In fact, they did everything short of stuff the legs into our maws! As there were only two of us, they had stuffed us into a tiny windowless room in the dining area, and a similarly sized space in our bedroom. At least we had the privilege of an escape rope hanging next to the window!
We were able to catch the last shuttle bus into the town centre and undertook a three-spa 外湯めぐり, clattering along the streets in our geta and yukata. Then it was a taxi-ride back to the ryokan for some late-night beer and haiku-reading.
Breakfast was in similarly cramped conditions, but the morning view from the waiting room and the rotemburo was impressive.
the inn waiting room
lightning on the peaks:
"another five minutes"
-- Richard Donovan
The weather on the second day, however, was less so. Eventually, tired of waiting for it to settle down, we drove down to the base of Daishizan and began our hiked ascent past Onsendera. After a coffee break at the cable-car centre at the top, we braved increasingly foul weather and headed up to Momijidaira. We were greeted there by ochre leaves and showers of propritious hailstones from the clouds rolling about our ears. After a brief stop, where we waited in vain for a break in the weather, we set off back down the trail, a newborn stream nipping at our heels.
In the black clouds above
A god must have broken
His rosary of hailstone beads.
-- Tito
Tito kindly took the driving duties on himself, so apart from ineffectually fumbling with a map from time to time, I was able to fully enjoy the transition from city to countryside, flat lands to hills, and finally inland to coast. Waiting for us at the end of two-and-a-half hours' drive at Chionji temple in Amanohashidate were John Dougill and Mari Kawaguchi. After picking up a little sustenance at the local shops (thanks Mari for your extra homemade sandwich!), we crossed the bridge linking the sandbar with the coast, and soon found ourselves on a beautiful fine-sand, sun-drenched beach, the perfect spot for a picnic lunch.
Next we strolled up the centre of the sandbar, flanked on both sides by pine trees, with frequent glimpses of the sandy shore on each side. While we were viewing a shrine positioned to worship a miraculous fresh-water spring (which sadly was not in a miraculous state), a young local shrine enthusiast turned up on his collapsible bicycle, and in no time had agreed to accompany us on our travels for the day. We next took to the shoreline, and, with John taking the lead, some of us were soon walking barefoot in the surf, dodging the occasional large and purple beached jellyfish.
Barefoot
On this bridge to heaven
The gods and I ...
-- John Dougill
Another fateful meeting was with the 宮司 (guuji, or shrine priest) of the Kono shrine, clad in resplendent hakama. We came across him shortly after saying good bye to John at the shrine and making our tour of the impressive 岩座 (iwakura, holy rocks) there. Tito and the priest found they had much to talk about regarding the origins of some of the most important Shinto deities and the noble clan of Amabe to which the priest belonged (at least, by marriage -- his wife, in black in the middle of the picture, has the actual bloodline).
Next we eschewed the funicular and climbed to the peak of Kasamatsu for the obligatory (but no less impressive for that) upside-down viewing of the Bridge of Heaven as the sun began to sink towards the horizon. We ended our day together with a boat trip back across the bay.
towards pine-trees
crossing over the turning bridge
... scent of the sea
-- Mari Kawaguchi
Then Tito and I drove on to Kinosaki. Our hostesses at the ryokan Ashigaru were eager for us to enjoy our crab meal in as timely a fashion as we could. In fact, they did everything short of stuff the legs into our maws! As there were only two of us, they had stuffed us into a tiny windowless room in the dining area, and a similarly sized space in our bedroom. At least we had the privilege of an escape rope hanging next to the window!
We were able to catch the last shuttle bus into the town centre and undertook a three-spa 外湯めぐり, clattering along the streets in our geta and yukata. Then it was a taxi-ride back to the ryokan for some late-night beer and haiku-reading.
Breakfast was in similarly cramped conditions, but the morning view from the waiting room and the rotemburo was impressive.
the inn waiting room
lightning on the peaks:
"another five minutes"
-- Richard Donovan
The weather on the second day, however, was less so. Eventually, tired of waiting for it to settle down, we drove down to the base of Daishizan and began our hiked ascent past Onsendera. After a coffee break at the cable-car centre at the top, we braved increasingly foul weather and headed up to Momijidaira. We were greeted there by ochre leaves and showers of propritious hailstones from the clouds rolling about our ears. After a brief stop, where we waited in vain for a break in the weather, we set off back down the trail, a newborn stream nipping at our heels.
In the black clouds above
A god must have broken
His rosary of hailstone beads.
-- Tito
The footbath at the base of Daishizan was a welcome way to end our hike.
posted by Richard Donovan at 12:59 pm
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