Rollin' Across Japan Part 6: Miyajima

Phew.  So, after Hiroshima had put me through the mill the previous day, a long sleep was just what I needed to get my head back in place.  With my next destination a mere 10 minute ferry journey away, I awoke late-morning to a bright and breezy day, and took the ferry across the narrow strip of water to the island of Miyajima.

First off, a confession.  I'd already visited Miyajima the night before.  I know, I'm a terrible person.  But it was only a very brief visit, to see one thing: the famous torii gate of the Itsukushima Shrine.  To the average man on the street, Miyajima rarely rings a bell, but show them a picture of this torii gate and they instantly know it: along with Mt. Fuji, the sight of this torii 'floating' in the water is one of the most famous sights of Japan, and is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.  As torii gates usually mark the entrance to a shrine, it's location in the water marks the whole island as holy to the Shinto belief.

The first thing that strikes you when you see the torii gate is just how big it is: like celebrities, they usually disappoint you with how small they are in real life.  Not this.  It's absolutely huge, towering over the people: even the typical swarm of tourists couldn't diminish it's impact: in fact, it reminds you just how big it is.

But, Miyajima Island was well worth a day of it's own, because there was so much more to see otherwise.  There is Itsukushima Shrine itself, standing at the head of the bay.  In low tide, it is nothing more than a spacious, fine but otherwise identikit Shinto shrine.  But when the tide comes in, it transforms, the water washing under the raised platforms absolutely filling in it's namesake as the 'floating shrine'.  It was an interesting, potent mix of spirituality and nature: visitors prayed at the honden while below crabs drilled into the sand.

I made my way up the hill up to Senjokaku, which means "1000 mat pavilion".  While 1000 might me an exaggeration, this hall was still huge and airy, and faded old paintings hung slanted from the ceiling.  Passing through the old, touristy town and heading up into the trees, the temple of Daisho in lay tucked away at the head of a thin valley.  This temple was wonderfully colourful and playful, with statues of Anpanman and other characters, and expressive but slightly creepy statues of 500 old men.

Now, as I left the temple, I paused at the sight of a certain sign.  I'd promised myself that today, the last day of my epic journey, would be an easy-going day, after the fast-and-furious itinerary of the last week had destroyed my feet.  But when I saw a sign saying 'To Misen-san', the highest point on the island, I couldn't help myself.  I had to climb it.

As I've learned by experience, never underestimate a mountain.  Mt. Misen is a little over 500 meters, and though I didn't take it for granted, I didn't think it would be as much trouble as I thought.  My foot gave me a little grief for it, but my biggest mistake was not taking a drink.  By the time I reached the top, I was absolutely parched, and didn't think twice about paying the inflated prices for a bottle of sports drink, which I demolished in two mouthfuls.

But it was well worth it.  The rusty old observation deck gave great views all around, to Hiroshima and the surround Inland Sea.  The sea here is famously calm and still, and on this cloudless day I got great views of islands big and small rising from the sea, reflected perfectly back in the water.

Back down the mountain, and it was time to grab a late-lunch, an ice-cream and kick back by the beach while the sun went down.  More than once I was approached by one of the island's famous deer, who are by no means shy and will rummage through your belongings and chew on anything they please.  You have to literally push them away before they eat your entire guidebook.

Finally, the sun set, the lanterns were lit, and the floodlights bathed the torii gate.  The sun set behind the mountains of the mainland, flushing the sky pink.  I had the view I'd been waiting for, and it was everything I could have hoped it would be.

Time to head back and catch and early night.  I had a very early start the next morning, on trains from 5am and not leaving them until 12midnight - about as long as you can possibly be on trains for a single day.

My conclusion to my whole trip?  Well, I would have thought that I'd learned my lesson by now that when I visit a place, the hope of ticking it off and being done with it is never the case.  With the possible exception of Okayama, there isn't a single place I'd been to that I wouldn't consider visiting again.

But for now, it was time to look forward.  I had a few days rest before the Big One: Korea...