Nikko
Nikko, set in the Chichibu-Tama National Park in Tochigi prefecture, is one of the most scenic locations within short distance from Tokyo. Kathleen, Al, Tam, Ursula, Jen and I met in Asakusa and caught the Nikko Tobu train. The scenery melts from Tokyo's urban sprawl to semi-rural rice paddies to green hills liberally covered with cryptomeria (Japanese cedar) trees. Nikko is a small town, mostly consisting of omiyage (souvenir) shops and restaurants, acting as 'base camp' for those travelling on to Chuzenji-ko.
Day 1
By the time we eventually arrived (the trains there were almost fully booked out, except for those leaving mid-morning), it was really too late to do anything substantial. So we wandered around town, checking out most, if not all, the souvenir and woodwork shops.
Day 2
The bus to Chuzenji-ko was packed, and it's lucky we were first in line to get a seat. As the road climbs 1300m up a mountain, there is a stretch of road with 24 hairpin corners. Crazy Japanese drivers tried to overtake the turning bus - a feat borne of total stupidity.
We got off the bus at Akechidera, to catch the cable car up to a viewing platform with amazing views of Chuzenji-ko, Kegon waterfall and Mt Nantai. According to the guidebook, a pleasant hike would lead to another cable car, which would take us down to the lake. We set up, clambering up the only path, which led up and down a ridge with a sheer drop on both sides! The hike became a little easier, but after 30 minutes, with no cable car in sight, we asked a resting bushwalker.
"Oh, it doesn't run anymore. It stopped 2 months ago."
We were a little annoyed (!), but there was nothing for it but to head back. Ursula, whose Japanese is amazing, mentioned the MIA cable car to the operators of the first station.
"Well, it's only closed for 2 years," she said, giving us a look that implied that of course all Japanese implicitly knew this, and only foreigners could be so silly as to not know.
We had lunch at a restaurant near the lake, whose owner had resorted to a flashing traffic control wand in order to trick traffic into a detour via her shop.
The Kegon waterfall is amazing. 2 tonnes of water per second crashes down 97m to the rocks below, where the river rushes down a thin gorge to the towns below. You can even take an elevator down to a viewing platform to get either a closer view, or a souvenir.
We headed back to the pension for a well-deserved onsen.
Day 3
We were planning to visit Nikko Edo Mura, which is a recreation of an Edo-era Japanese town, complete with samurai shows, until the pension driver told us that it was a theme park costing Y4000 (about $80) to get in. Senno-ji temple would have to fill in our day.
Rinnoji is famous for the sanbatsudo, the hall featuring three giant Buddhist statues. It was impressive, but after Hong Kong's Lantau Island, the reclining Buddha at Penang in Malaysia, and the daibatsu at Kamakura, we're a little Buddha-ed out.
Toshogu Shrine is the resting place of Tokugawa Ieyasu, who conquered Japan in 1600, and kicked all foreign influences out. It's a pretty gaudy set of temples, with very heavy Chinese and Thai influences.
The Sacred Stable has a white horse, a gift from the Maoris of New Zealand, whose sole job appeared to be grazing and staring at the gawking tourists. Opposite, the sanjinko (storehouses) have carvings of elephants by an artist who had never actually seen one. You can just imagine the conversation with the guy who told him about them:
"Mate! You'll never believe what I copped a Captain Cook at! You should carve one!"
"Righty-o!"
The effect is... interesting.
The hall Honji-do has a great painting of a dragon on the roof, and clapping in a certain location is said to trigger the sound of the dragon. Demonstrating was a monk. The monk clapped the sticks together in one part of the room - no echo. Moving to another, the wood created an echo that seemed to ripple around the room. While not really reminiscent of a dragon's roar, it was impressive nonetheless.
The actual tomb itself is beyond the 'sleeping cat' gate, along a stone path. For Y300, you can see it. I'm not sure whether a man who conquered Japan through sheer will would have approved of this state of affairs. You can be a kind in your lifetime, ruling with an iron fist, but when you're six feet under, you're not much more than a tourist attraction.
The shrine of his grandson, Iemitsu, Rinnoji Taiyuin, is a smaller version of Toshogu, but because it's about a k away from Sennoji and Toshogu, it thankfully doesn't have the crowds. It's a beautiful walk, too, along a wide path with towering trees.
After lunch, we strolled back into Nikko, passing one of Japan's three most unusual bridges. I'll have to refrain from passing comment, because as you can see, the bridge is under construction. Shades of Kyoto all over again. The picture on the construction looked amazing, and if you can imagine away the busy adjacent road and restaurants nearby, it's almost like being being in the 1700s, a bridge passing over a mountain stream with misty peaks in the distance.
A final few hours in Nikko, and we were back on the train for Tokyo. It was a bit depressing watching the beautiful and serene mountains give way again to concrete, apartments, and roads. The only thing that made it a bit better was watching the cars crawling along the only road, as our train left them in the dust. It apparently took 8 hours for someone we know to drive what took the train 90 minutes!
Oh, and if you have Americans with you when you go, show them the pamphlet for Western Village, and watch their faces!
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