Last year I spent Christmas day
staying in the small lakeside town of Shimosuwa on the Nakasendo – the “Middle
Mountain Road” in Japan. The Nakasendo was one of five old highways linking Edo
(now Tokyo) and Kyoto established in the sixteenth century by the Shogun,
Tokugawa Ieyasu. Shimosuwa is the only hot spring town on the Nakasendo and so
was once a welcome stopping place for merchants and officials travelling
between the two principal cities of Edo era Japan. There are still many ryokan, traditional inns, in Shimosuwa,
each with their own onsen or hot
spring bath houses.
These ryokan are the perfect place for a short stay to relax and unwind –
as a guest it is easy to imagine yourself living as an old world prince or
princess as you are treated to beautifully prepared meals, all sumptuously set-out,
looking like works of art in terms of presentation and tasting just as
exquisite. The mineral salts which saturate the natural onsen water, along with the fresh mountain air and the scent of the
traditional-styled tatami mat floors
of the rooms are a real escape from the everyday. The ryokan are often family run businesses which have been owned and
operated by the same families for many generations.
Kameya, the ryokan in which we stayed has a suite of rooms preserved in its
centre which were used by Princess Kazunomiya (1846-1877). Overlooking a
stylised garden resembling a mountainscape in miniature, the suite still
retains its old blue and white porcelain toilets which look rather quaint in an
elegant although uncomfortable way when compared to the modern almost robotic
marvels with which the current rooms are now equipped. A small historical
display in the ryokan’s lobby had
examples of the inn’s old sign boards, a music box, and guest registers – one of
which was signed by the husband of the noted tanka poet, Yosano Akiko (1878-1942), who had stayed here too.
Each ryokan has a public bathhouse divided into two – one for men and
one for women. These each consist of a large indoor communal bath, with numerous
individual shower points for bathing, and an outdoor rotemburo bath, which in the winter provide a bracingly
invigorating way to experience the naturally hot water. The indoor bath has
large glass windows which allow for picturesque views of the wooded hills
surrounding the ryokan, yet each has
been contrived in such a way to ensure privacy for even though these baths are
communal it is the Japanese custom to use them whilst completely nude, carrying
only a small hand towel for the sake of modesty if needed. As a lone foreigner
in such places it takes a bit of getting used to, but once you do get used to
it it’s not so odd. Most bathers tend to keep to themselves, but occasionally
you may find yourself engaged in some interested conversations with fellow
bathers whilst soaking together in the big bath, often beginning with polite
questions such as – where are you from;
why are you visiting Japan; how do you like the onsen, and Japanese food? – That said though, it is nice to have the
place entirely to yourself. I was lucky on this occasion, as Christmas fell
during the working week and not many Japanese celebrate Christmas, so our ryokan was comparatively empty and on
each of the occasions I used the public bath (twice a day) I had it all to
myself.
It was wonderful to go early and
see the sunrise from the rotemburo,
with the steam rising all around you in the chilly early morning air, and also
again to see the sunset at the end of the day, relaxing aching muscles having
been out and about wandering round the town all day under the crisp, clear blue
sky. Each morning though, I realised I wasn’t the earliest riser as, rather
like Robinson Crusoe, I found a single dark wet footprint still etched onto the
light grey stone paving by the outdoor bath. Each ryokan also has a private bath which can be reserved for exclusive
use, usually for an hour at a time, by couples or families. This is often a
nice way to end the day, having first let your dinner go down, relaxing with
one last soak before going to bed. There’s something indescribable about the
natural, volcanically heated water of an onsen
– it is hot in a way which seems impossible for conventional baths to achieve,
and, augmented by the natural salts and minerals, it is the most effective way
to relax and rejuvenate both body and soul that I know of.
Asides from the many scenic views
of the lake and Mount Fuji in the far distance, the town of Shimosuwa itself is
studded with numerous sites of local interest. Forming a kind of triangle
between the three main points of two Shinto shrines and a stone lantern, the
Sankaku Batcho (literally, the “8-chō triangle” – a chō being an old unit of measurement, approximately 119 yards)
forms a neat circuit for a day’s gentle stroll. We started at the Akimiya – the
autumn shrine – close to our ryokan
and also the junction of the Nakasendo and Koshu-dochu roads, where the nearby
Honjin, run by the Iwanami family, was the official inn where feudal lords and
court nobles stayed when passing through this post town in the old Edo era. The
Akimiya is an imposing building flanked by two bronze Komainu, statues of
guardian dogs – the largest of their kind made of bronze in Japan. There is
also a large tree, known as the Neiri no sugi, or the “Sleeping Cedar” – it is
said that if you put your ear against its trunk at midnight you may hear the
tree snoring!
Passing along the Nakasendo we took
a quick look at the Raiko-ji, a Buddhist temple housing an image of Kanayaki
Jizoson – which I think is a bronze statue, but the temple buildings were
closed that day so we weren’t able to see it for ourselves. We also visited the
nearby Aozuka Kofun, a very ancient burial mound of a kind unique to Japan,
which when viewed aerially in plan view from above seem to have a ‘keyhole’
shape. They are thought to be the ancestral burial sites of nobles long since
passed away during Japan’s prehistoric phase. Some, such as Daisen Kofun in
Osaka, thought to be the tomb of the Emperor Nintoku, can be vast in size and
surrounded by deep water-filled moats. The larger Kofuns are thought to be the
burial sites of Japan’s earliest (possibly mythical) emperors. Others, such as
this one in Shimosuwa, are much smaller in size and now much misshapen too.
This one has several very ancient looking trees firmly established with
wide-girthed trunks on its twin summits. These Kofun are still sites of deep
religious significance, hence little is factually known about them as few have
been investigated archaeologically. They are usually marked by small shrines at
which offerings are still regularly left by local people.
Heading on up a long avenue lined
by cherry trees, which must be quite a sight when in full bloom in the springtime
sakura season, we reached another
Buddhist temple, Jiun-ji. Originally under the protection of a local Daimyo, or
feudal warlord, called Shingen Takeda (1521-1573), this is one of the most
beautiful temples I have ever visited in Japan. It is entered by a small and
unassuming gatehouse by the road. A long stone path flanked with green mossy carpeted
beds and tall cedar trees leads up to the temple entrance gates, which house a
pair of fierce looking protective deities. Beyond this gate there are a number
of imposing temple buildings with dark timber frames, white stucco plaster
walls, topped by beautifully curved bronze tiled roofs. Just inside the
entrance in the first part of the courtyard stands a gorgeous pine tree planted
in the sixteenth century by the Zen monk, Tenkei. It has since been trained
into the most amazing shape spanning a vast expanse.
Back outside the temple, just across the road, a long stone stairway leads down to a second Dragon spout fountain, this one of cold water mirroring the hot water one at Akimiya.
Back outside the temple, just across the road, a long stone stairway leads down to a second Dragon spout fountain, this one of cold water mirroring the hot water one at Akimiya.
Buddhist temples are often located near to the more ancient shrines of the native Shinto religion, and so it’s only a short distance from Jiun-ji to the second of the two principal Shinto shrines of Shimosuwa, the Harumiya – spring shrine. The Harumiya and Akimiya form the lower half of the Suwa-taisha, or Grand Shrine, with the upper half located on the south side of Lake Suwa – each is dedicated to the deity Takeminakata-no-kami and his consort, Yasakatome-no-kami. The two shrines of the Kamisha, or south side, are thought to be dedicated to the male deity and Shimosha to the female deity or consort, along with Takeminakata’s divine younger brother, Yaekotoshironushi, as well.
Every six years the shrines of
Shimosuwa are rebuilt, with the occasion being marked by a large festival,
known as Onbashira-sai, when the enormous onbashira
(literally, ‘sacred pillars’) are dragged by hand from the nearby mountain
forests to be erected in the four corners of the shrine. Reading about this I
couldn’t help wondering about parallels with other Southeast Asian religions,
even those of faraway Papua New Guinea (for instance, as with the Asmat people),
where similar rituals of erecting sacred trees as special offerings to the
local spirit deities occur. I’ve no idea as to whether or not these vastly
differing cultures might have some long distant connection or common animist
theological root, or if it would ever even be possible to know such a thing for
sure, but it is an intriguing thought to wonder just how ancient the origins of
such practices might actually be. One can imagine such a deeply ancient rite
becoming ever more ritualised and refined, subtly morphing through the most
ancient of aeons across huge distances and different peoples in diverse ways to
the present day.
A little further on from the
Harumiya we crossed two arched red footbridges to the sandbar shrine of
Ukishima-sha, set in the midst of the Togawa River, to visit the Manji no
sekibutsu. A stone sculpture, made in the Manji era (1658-1661), depicting
Amitabha Buddha – but looking oddly reminiscent of one of the enormous moai statues of Rapa Nui or Easter
Island. Here you are meant to say a silent prayer to Amitabha, and then walk in
a short kora or circuit three times
around the statue.
By this time we were more than ready
for lunch, and so, close to the Gebabashi – a covered footbridge now marooned
in the midst of the road, the oldest wooden structure in Shimosuwa – we stopped
at a small restaurant, called Miya-no-mae Soba, for a delicious bowl of hot
soba noodles with mountain vegetables and wild mushrooms. Afterwards following
the road down to the Otoro, a stone lantern built in 1829, and then back along
the main road into the town forming the right angle sides of the triangular
walk. The town is filled with many craft shops of woodworkers, weavers and
confectioners, which were sadly mostly closed by the time we got there. A
couple of local museums look well worth a visit too, but by now we were very
much ready to get back to our ryokan
and have a soak in the onsen before
dinner after our leisurely day of strolling around Shimosuwa’s Sankaku Batcho.
Thanks for sharing about your visit to Suwa. I’ll be there for a couple nights this summer and wanted some info on local history. This was really helpful and enjoyable to read.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Todd. Much appreciated. I hope you have a good trip. It's a nice place.
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