A Brief Visit of Chichibu

Many things happen in the town of Chichibu, in Saitama. It's a town that, although calm during most of the year, brims with festivals on multiple occasions, and has found its way to the public eye. The town is spread on a fairly wide area which it also shares with vast fields of flowers of different types - so many in fact that it doesn't take all that much luck at all to find at least one such field in full bloom. This, and its surrounding mountains and temples, have given Chichibu somewhat of a picturesque look, while removing none of its tranquility.

 I found myself making a short trip to Chichibu in order to have a look at the town, not quite sure what exactly to expect, and found myself walking amongst pilgrims. As it turns out, one of Chichibu's main selling points to visitors is the 34 temples scattered in the forest and mountain trails. The pilgrimage through all 34 temples has been done for nearly 700 years now, but though the pilgrims of Chichibu today don't necessarily do it for the sake of actual religion, it was easy for me to see the appeal of such a journey. Based on nothing but a picture on a pamphlet, I picked one of the 34 and decided I'd have a taste of it.

 Temple 28, the Hashidate-do, was only a short distance away from one of the train stations of the local line, and a very short hike up one of the mountains lead directly to it. Nestled amongst tall trees at the top of a staircase, tucked under one of the faces of the mountain behind it, the small, ancient temple was a small marvel in and of itself, and radiated with history and lore. Unlike most temples in Japan, it's said that as many as half of the temples in Chichibu are not attended by priests, and are instead cared and maintained for by locals. Happy about my discovery, I soon decided to move on.

  As I mentioned above, Chichibu's flower fields are also fairly well known. Unfortunately, I had just missed the blooming of the pink shibazakura (or moss phlox) fields, which is widely considered to be the most beautiful of the bunch. I did, however, catch the blooming of the buckwheat! Granted, buckwheat's not all that impressive of a flower at all, and I'm not even that big a fan of soba noodles, but it was still kind of neat to stand in a field of it. But a little color would have been nice.

 Altogether, though, I didn't spend so much time in Chichibu, and I'm quite aware that there are adventures to be had here if I went looking for them. There's rafting on the Arakawa river, and zip-lining from tree to tree a bus ride away from the center of the town, let alone the whole 100 kilometer pilgrimage across the 34 temples. But those will have to be for another day, perhaps.

A Tochigi Day Trip - Part 2 - Oya

We hadn't spent much time in Utsunomiya before we decided to move out of the city and into the adjacent town of Oya. To be frank, when I first planned the road trip, Oya was meant to have been more of a distraction than anything else, but the cozy town turned out to be so much more than that.
 Oya is the exclusive place where Oya stone can be found. It's a unique rock that pretty much put the town of Oya on maps. Within the town, there are countless monuments made of it, and blocks of it seemed to have been carved right out of cliff faces, giving the landscape a bit of a peculiar look.

The Oya-ji Temple and the Oya Kannon.

Our first stop in Oya was the Oya-ji temple, a Buddhist temple with a very ancient history. The temple itself is nestled in a cave-like depression in a rock made of Oya stone. Upon entering it, a 1200 year old Kannon Goddess can be seen carved into the face of the rock. You're not supposed to take pictures of it, but I sneaked one for the sake of satisfying the curiosity of the few readers I have. Other figures are also carved into the rock, though notably not as important as the Goddess herself. Ken noted that there were words inscribed into the stone next to each respective figure, but the writing looked so far removed from Japanese that I couldn't help but wonder at the evolution of the written language.

The Heiwa Kannon and some unphotogenic Adventure Friends.

 Across from the temple, though nowhere as ancient as the Oya Kannon within the cave, is the Heiwa Kannon, another Goddess carved out of the indigenous rock. Overlooking a square, the Heiwa Kannon is much taller, standing at nearly 30 meters in height, and an impressive sight in and of itself. From what I've read, it was carved by hand as a World War II memorial. There are steps allowing visitors to climb up to its head, and give visitors a good view of the Oya-ji temple. We promptly did that, and, lo-and-behold, what we discovered from up there turned out to be even more interesting...
  A haikyo! We told ourselves we'd get back to it later, since we had one more thing we wanted to check out within the town. I'll elaborate further down.

All credit to Agha for this brilliant picture. It's hard to make Ken look like a child molester but he pulled it off.

 Our next stop was the Oya Stone Museum. And though my companions originally weren't sure what
to think of a museum based on stone, they were open to the idea of checking it out, and it sure as hell didn't disappoint. Essentially, the museum itself is a gigantic cavern. Located deep underground, the dark, cavernous halls of the museum were approximately 15 degrees colder than surface temperature, and we could see warmth of our breaths in the dim light. The cave turned out to be one of the highlights of our trip despite our initial skepticism. It was hard not to be amazed by the vastness of the underground chambers located under the small building on the surface. The walls were so high that the ceiling above was plunged into darkness. The whole thing felt very much like some kind of Egyptian tomb. Here are there, small art installations were installed and lit up in colored lights. We later on found out that many different music videos, commercials, and movie scenes were shot within these very halls. Some parts of the cavern were barred off and inaccessible, making it hard to tell how deep the man-made tunnels even went. We left the museum pretty satisfied with what we had seen.

 Thereafter, we took our bikes to the abandoned place we had seen earlier, from the top of the Heiwa Kannon statue. It took a little research for us to find out that the ruins before us were those of the abandoned Yamamoto Grand Center, which had been left to ruin at some point during the '80's (not a hundred years ago, as one of the locals tried to get us to believe.) The surface of the decaying structure was covered in vines and other various plant-life, so deep the ground-level of the building could hardly be seen. The tall grass was a nest full of vipers, as was made evident by the nearby signs. Though we were in broad daylight, we promptly decided to ditch our bicycles and find a way inside the building, but as we approached chains barred our way, alongside with a camera and another sign warning trespassers of an alarm. I swear to God, a pheasant also jumped out of a bush and scared the shit out of us, and so we decided it wasn't in the cards for us to visit this place, and we turned tail. Maybe some other time.

 Evening was encroaching on us by then, and we still had one appointment left, back in Utsunomiya. In fact, what came next was the very reason we had even come to Tochigi in the first place.

A Tochigi Day Trip - Part 1 - Utsunomiya

Utsunomiya - the Nashville of Japan, located in Tochigi prefecture, an hour and a half away by train. Yes, it's a modern city, but really, no one would go out of their way to visit it. It kind of tries hard to be something and puts upon a pedestal what simple areas of cultural significance it does have, no matter how minimal or insignificant. And even so it doesn't have all that much. If anything, it suffers from its prestigious neighbor, Nikko, which by anyone's standards is a lot more interesting. It's no wonder travel guides often skip Utsunomiya.

 But there are hidden nuggets of awesome to be found here, if you chance to look around! And so, the Adventure Friends of the day, Millo, Agha, Ken and I, tasked ourselves with the seemingly daunting mission of making a good day trip out of Utsunomiya and its surroundings.
Step 1? Rent a bicycle. You wouldn't believe how incredibly cheap it is to rent a bicycle for a whole day. The following is no typo. It's 100¥. There are no zeroes missing there. You can even return the bikes as late as 9PM. It's the perfect way to go out and about a decent sized city with interesting things few and far apart. With a price like that, cabs, buses and the subway just don't compare. We had no trouble getting ours after asking at the information kiosk at the JR station from which we had arrived. It only took a few moments for us to be upon our trusty new steeds, off to explore the city.

A chart of gyoza along with our lunch.

Utsunomiya is actually the capital of gyoza, or Japanese dumplings (though no one really calls them that.) There's no real getting around that, so a gyoza lunch was the first thing we got off our list. Well, we tried to see how deep the rabbit hole went by going into a food court where every shop specialized in gyoza. And we found it to be pretty god damn deep. Every variety of gyoza you could possibly imagine could be found in that one spot - and most likely a few you could not possibly imagine were as well. Tea-flavored, anyone? Shrimp? Or yuzu - you know, that sour citrus that only grows in East Asia? No? Didn't think so. Maybe Utsunomiya deserves its name as gyoza capital after all.

After lunch, we headed right downtown to the Futaarayama Shrine. Sure, it's no Meiji-Jingu, but the shrine is built on quite an attractive hill, almost right in the center of the city. It's hard to stand from the street level, look up at the shrine past its large torii gate, and not think it beautiful. We climbed the steps and paid brief visit to the shrine grounds, but found it to be nothing exceptional. Still, it's not without its charm, and some areas off the side of the central building itself were surrounded by beautiful trees, creating quite a nice and cozy little atmosphere. Still, the shrine and its surroundings do look the best from a little distance away, I thought.

 We hopped back on our bikes and made our way to the Utsunomiya Castle Ruins next. Here's what you should know about the Utsunomiya Castle Ruins: skip 'em. Really, there's little more than a wall and two turrets left. Again, these, too, look better from afar, but that's not even saying much. I couldn't figure out a way to even take a picture of the ruins that could make anyone kind of give a damn, and that's something I don't ever really recall saying before. So never mind them.

 Though it may not have seemed much, at this point we had already decided we had seen what we needed to see of Utsunomiya. Gasp! But wasn't this supposed to be a day trip? Fret not - our bicycles took us next to a place beyond the city borders. A place which was, I would say, exponentially more interesting. Thirty minutes and nine kilometers away, we came upon the second part of our day trip - the provincial town of Oya, and a small, very different adventure in and of itself.

So I Heard You Like Cats

I found myself wandering the suburbs today, in search of a temple rumored to worship cats, and boy did I find it. The temple, Gotokuji, a 15 minute walk from the train station with the same name, is actually not very well known, despite its rather large temple grounds.  Within the temple complex are several large gates, a three-story pagoda, a large cemetery and the temple itself, but what reputation the temple has was given to it by none of these, and rather by its curious fixation for cats - a fixation the whole surrounding neighborhood has adopted.

The Maneki-Neko, the iconic white cat with its paw drawn upwards so as to invite good luck, is rumored to have drawn its origin from this very temple (amongst other places in Japan, but none of these claims can be confirmed nor denied.) And sure as hell, if you walk around the temple grounds a little bit, you'll eventually stumble upon a rather impressive collection of the little buggers, lining the floor and shelves on either side. 

Whoa!

 As much as I agree that you don't really need a reason to love cats, I was curious as to why this temple in particular had a profound obsession with them, and did a little research on the side.
 As legend would have it, the feudal lord Ii Naotaka found himself wandering Edo, when a sudden storm hit. As he waited for its passing under a tree, he noticed a cat beckoning to him with its paw, and, just like any sensible fellow, decided to follow the cat. Lucky for him and his preference for domestic animals over dry clothes, though, the tree was struck by lightning an instant after he left its protection, and the cat lead him to the then-humble Gotokuji temple, where he took shelter. In reward for the cat having saved his life, he bestowed upon its owner, the temple's priest, generous funding with which the temple expanded, and made an icon of the beckoning cat.

 Nowadays, if you go to Gotokuji, you're sure to find a bunch of wooden tags suspended on poles in the temple grounds, upon which cat owners from all over write wishes for their cats. It might be worth a visit if you don't mind making the trip!

Friendly, Livable Nagoya

Ah, Nagoya! Falling 4th in Japan in terms of population, behind Tokyo, Yokohama and Osaka, Nagoya actually has a whole lot going for it - but I didn't know that when I got out of the bus. My decision to go to Nagoya was for the most part me spontaneously wanting to go somewhere during my brief break from work, without having much in mind when it came to what to do. But the tickets were cheap, and, after being dumped out in the middle of the downtown area at 6 AM, I made my way to McDonalds, and began sorting out my trip. And the results were good! Here are the things you can do in Nagoya - in one post this time, so it might be a bit of a long one!
 Here's a tip: you can buy a pass allowing you to use the subway system an unlimited amount of times within a day for 600¥. Talk about savings. I can't advise this enough.

One of the places that came recommended to me was the Atsuta shrine. Very much like its equivalent in Tokyo, the Meijijingu, Atsuta is a shrine dedicated to the worship of the old Shinto religion. Just like Meijijingu, so too is Atsuta shrine located at the end of a path taking you through very ancient woods - despite being rather close to the central part of the city. Atsuta shrine is beautiful in its serenity, undisturbed and surrounded by some truly impressive, ancient trees which appear to be in the hundreds.
Whether it was just at that specific time or date, I
don't know, but unlike Meijijingu, it wasn't possible to enter the immediate vicinity of the central shrine, which was surrounded by a large zen garden - the type with small, white sand like stone with lines carefully drawn into it. Being that I was there on the 30th of December, I found a large gathering of religious officials in the midst of planning for a ceremony, all dressed in white. Mysterious!

Of course, the first thing thing that most people will mention if asked what there is to see in Nagoya is the Nagoya Castle, though. With its roof being the color of rusted copper, adorned with its signature golden fish on each side, Nagoya Castle is one of the most impressive of its kind in Japan, and certainly one of the largest. However, it wouldn't do not to keep in mind that the actual Nagoya Castle of the Edo period was blasted to hell during World War II, with this one standing in its place as a reconstruction, the process of which is still ongoing. Though the central keep itself is complete, the rest of the palace buildings aren't due until the end of 2018.
 Well, not that any of that mattered to me, seeing as the castle grounds were closed off for the end of the year. The closest I could actually get to Nagoya castle was peeking at it through the bars of the gates, or climbing trees to get the best view I could. Fortunately, the main keep is pretty elevated, so I didn't fare too bad, I think, but it was a huge shame not to be able to have a closer look, or to see none of the other parts of the castle. That being said, it wasn't long until I got moving again.

 Moving on to something a little more modern, Nagoya has a rather handsome port a little ways out of its center, too. If you aren't too picky, there's more than enough stuff to do to spend the day here: there's a sizable aquarium for the families, or for those looking to learn something out of the ordinary, an Antarctic exploration ship is moored here, and has been turned into a museum of sorts. On site is also a small theme park for younger children, which is free to enter and houses the tallest Ferris wheel in the Chubu province, which is the central region of Japan. The area itself is full of bridges, interesting architecture, and the seafront of course, so I actually did go ahead and board the Ferris wheel, and got a good look at the area as a result, which was nice, but definitely not necessary in order to admire Nagoya Port. You can get the best of the area by walking its bridges and walkways, and without paying a dime.

 The next spot I visited was Nagoya's central Buddhist temple, the Osu Kannon temple. Completely contrary to Atsuta Shrine, Osu Kannon embraces its urban setting. Its grounds are very compact and full of visitors, especially given the encroaching New Year. Surrounded by very busy shopping streets, Osu Kannon is a nugget of tradition within a bustling area in the midst of modernization. Thanks to its long, roofed shopping streets, it's as good an area as central Nagoya to get some shopping done, or to grab a bite, but the temple itself is fairly compact, despite its large size. Still, Osu Kannon is impressive and fun to go see, whether to climb its stairs to pray, or merely to gawk at the crazy amount of pigeons at the bottom of said stairs, and the children on spot feeding them bird grains, which seemed to be a very common thing here. The bird grains are even sold on spot, so such a thing appeared to be encouraged, really.

And finally, as the day ran its course, I made my way to Sakae, the most bustling district of Nagoya. In terms of city life, Sakae is where it happens: the district has the biggest shopping malls, eateries, clubs, hotels, you name it.
 And right at its center stands Nagoya's own tower - sister to those in Tokyo, Osaka, Fukuoka, Kyoto and Sapporo - and arguably the one with the best surrounding area! Leading up to the tower is park, making the stroll quite a pleasant one, but if you really want to get the best shot of Nagoya Tower, wait until night and climb to the top of the nearby Oasis 21 shopping center. The building's roof top has a pool of water and is illuminated at night, which really looks great all together, plus the tower turns gold rather than its regular cold steel color.
Fun fact: Sakae is the birthplace of SKE48, the Japanese pop band with 48 female members, based on the model of Akihabara's AKB48 in Tokyo.


 Whew, I think I got just about everything. I'll be posting about Nagoya's numerous specialty foods soon too, plus a little extra side trip I did while in the area. Hurrah!

Takasaki, So Make a Wish

I'll explain this in a minute.

Takasaki is located right smack in the center of Gunma prefecture and is effectively its most populated city. Really, at first sight, it's an area thats doesn't seem to have anything special going for it, if nothing but the fact that it has the one major train station in the whole prefecture of Gunma. A whole lot of people who work in Tokyo actually commute from Takasaki, and I've been through the city a couple of times on my way to other places.
 It's only until I did a little bit of research that I chanced upon a few interesting things about the city, and it turns out that, even though you won't find it in most guide books, there's stuff in Takasaki that make it quite viable for a day trip! It's been on my mind for a while, so I figured today was the day.
 The sightseeing core of Takasaki is actually a 20 minute bus ride from the city center, in an area called Kannonyama. Once there, it's pretty easy to figure out where the place got its name. Overlooking the mountain is one of the tallest statues you might have ever seen.

There's a small temple beside it too!

This big white lady is the Byakue Kannon, one of the aspects of the Goddess of Mercy who figures quite prominently in the Buddhist religion and whom I've encountered before in Nokogiriyama. The mountain being quite forested, she makes for a pretty imposing sight when seen looming over the trees. Plus, she's so white she practically glows. The statue itself has a partially hollowed interior, which can be climbed until the height of her shoulders. Inside are enshrined other deities which can be revered and prayed to, for bestowing such blessings as safe childbirth and good fortune. Or you can be gloomy and pray to the Gatekeeper of Hell. For some reason, that's an option too. At any rate, once at the top of the statue, you get a pretty clear view of Takasaki, and, given favorable conditions, you can see the mountain ranges of Gunma in the distance too. I had no such fortune.
  I heard from someone that the Kannon of Takasaki and the Buddha of Kamakura were built facing one another, but I can't confirm nor deny the claim.

 If you haven't done enough worshiping/sightseeing here, there's an equally worthwhile opportunity to do so just a kilometer or so away. In the very same mountain is a cavern where 33 aspects of Kannon (including another of the very same Byakue Kannon above) are enshrined. Though at first this may seem like nothing but a minor attraction, the immensity of the 33 Kannon Cavern soon comes into evidence as you step inside its damp, dark halls. The entire 400 square meters of cave was hollowed out by shovel and pickaxe, with none of the modern machinery we now have. This feat alone makes the den quite impressive, but the statues themselves are the real treat here. At first individually enshrined in little notches along the walls, the cavern eventually opens up into majestic displays, putting some of the statues up high in magnificent natural-seeming displays. My personal favorite of the 33 aspects was the one in mid-transformation into a dragon. I was thoroughly happy with what I got for my 700¥.

 And of course, Takasaki is also the birthplace of the Daruma doll, further cementing the town's relationship with ancient Buddhism. For those of you who don't know, Daruma is a representation of the Buddhist monk Bodhidharma. According to legend, Bodhidharma stared at a wall for 9 years in meditation. One version of the legend is that his legs fell off from atrophy. Another says that he once fell asleep, and cut off his eyelids so it would never happen again.
 Either way, in modern practice, Daruma dolls are round, hollow and (traditionally) red. They're a symbol of perseverance, and are built in such a

way that they're very hard to topple completely. Upon receiving one, the person who obtains the doll must make a wish and paint one eye black. Should the wish come true, the other eye must be painted black as well. Of course, having come all this way from Tokyo, nothing would do but to buy one of my own!
All in all, Takasaki's worth the trip, folks. If it happened to be closer to Tokyo, no doubt it would be swarming with tourists, but as it is, you can go there and enjoy all the peace and quiet of Gunma while learning lots and seeing great things. I recommend!

Behold the Controversial Yasukuni Shrine

Today I paid a visit to Yasukuni Shrine. Other than being a shrine of a certain size, it's well known for being the one shrine the Emperor himself must never visit. It's a place of controversy, where the names of everyone who has served and died for the empire of Japan in war has been engraved and laid to rest - including a few of history's most infamous war criminals. Men responsible for ordering the pillaging of cities and the rape and murder of civilians. Many Chinese and Korean in particular look at the shrine's existence as something disdainful, and I do recall having read about a certain incident in which a Chinese man attempted to burn it down with molotov cocktails.
 So I went to have a look at it myself, and, lo and behold, not a single statue of Hitler murdering Jesus to be seen. Yeah, I could've guessed. Without proper context, it's a little hard to see anything controversial here.

But I can tell you what I did see! The Yasukuni shrine has at its entrance one of the most majestic torii gates you'll find in Tokyo, making the walk to the shrine quite nice. There's no denying that the shrine is quite militaristic though. There's a huge focus on war-time Japan here, even going as far as having a small museum next to the shrine.
 Within, all sorts of paraphernalia relating to World War II in particular can be found inside. Heavy artillery launchers, an attack plane, as well as a gift shop filled with postcards and other merchandise displaying Japan's military flag are on sale. It's kind of a strange gift idea for the average joe, but collectors probably dig this kind of thing.
 When it comes to the controversy of Yasukuni shrine, I really think it's just a matter of context. To build a memorial for people who died in service of their country makes all the sense in the world. And yes, even though the war criminals enshrined inside have done unspeakable evils upon the world, that doesn't change the fact that, technically, they do qualify. They didn't eat babies and shit bats. They were once someone's children.

Yeah, I know, it's also that the shrine states a different number of victims from the war than the text books and the records other countries have. I guess that would be the first time religion, science, and history say something different. Oh, wait, it's not? Huh. Isn't that odd.

Humbling, Majestic Nokogiriyama

 Chiba and Saitama, two of Tokyo's three neighboring prefectures, are often the butt of (my) jokes. They don't often show up in tourism and travel books, and that's because they're quite, well, bland. I found myself running a Google search on what someone could possibly do in the prefecture of Chiba, and, lo and behold, I stumbled upon something new and unexpected. I grabbed Dario and dragged him into it while he was in the blind, not knowing where we were going or what we were doing. Truth be told, I can't completely say I was ready for what awaited us either.

 As it turns out, Some two and a half-hours away from the heart of Tokyo by train, is Nokogiriyama, the Sawtooth Mountain. It's not as imposing as it sounds, and makes for quite a brief, friendly hike. So too is there the option of using a rope-way and getting to the top in less than four minutes. But it's not the mountain that makes Nokogiriyama such an amazing find, as lovely as the view is from the top. It's every little thing along the way.
 Starting from Hamanakaya train station, one can easily reach the top of the mountain in an hour and a half. The hiking trail is at least as friendly as Mount Takao's, and leads you through gaps between cliff faces while often putting the backdrop of the neighboring towns directly behind you, allowing you to see the altitude you're gaining.

Pictures can't describe how amazing this looks, truly.

 The first stop of notice, near the summit, is the towering likeness of Buddhist Goddess of Mercy, the Hyakushaku Kannon. Carved into the face of a cliff, the Hyakushaku Kannon is like something out of fantasy. Overlooking a square shrouded in the shadows of trees looming far overhead, the carving stares straight into another cliff face, effectively creating a gigantic stone hallway. Finding such a thing in Chiba was like finding a pot of gold in my backyard.
 The Kannon itself would've been enough to make the trip worth it, but on top of that, just a little further on, one reaches the summit of the mountain, which offers a perfect 360 panorama of the surrounding area, unhidden by tall trees and other such obstructions. With hawks circling the forests and the beach and sea within plain sight, the summit of Nokogiriyama is one of the most satisfying rewards for a hike, despite the modest height of the mountain itself. Even the view below is unobstructed, and one can easily look down and see the very same square where the Hyakushaku Kannon stands guard.

Yet there's still more. Descending the mountain from the other side puts you in sight of the 1500 faces of the Guden Koga's Arhats. The 1500 statues are of varying sizes and practically line the whole face of the mountain. They have different facial expressions and are said to be carved out of stone from the Izu peninsula. Having taken almost 20 years to complete, they now serve in making the mountain one of the holiest sites in Japan. Unfortunately, many of the statues were defaced by Anti-Buddhist movement decades ago, but most still stand in all their integrity.

 And last but not least, sitting in a clearing, is the big man himself. The Great Buddha of Nihon-ji is the largest sitting Buddha in Japan, at 31 meters tall - a whole 17 meters taller than the one in Kamakura and 13 meters taller than the one in Nara. Carved by the same artisan as the 1500 Arhats from earlier (and his 27 apprentices) it's been restored to its former glory after countless years of wear and tear and erosion. Its appearance is meant to symbolize the existence of the whole universe as a "pure field confined within a lotus world" - whatever that may mean. I'm just quoting here.
 All in all, Nokogiriyama has been amazement upon amazement, and I went home quite happy with my discovery.
You're next, Saitama.

An Hour at the Sanja Festival

 It came as a near miss this year too. With all my attention focused on the move, I came close to forgetting about one of the biggest festivals in Tokyo - the Sanja Matsuri. By the time I managed to free myself to get there, the big event was all but over, but I did manage to catch some of the magic of the festivities.

 Sanja Matsuri is held in honor of the three founding priests of the Sensoji Temple in Asakusa, and is celebrated through the worship of three portable mikoshi shrines, over the course of three days. The first day (a Friday) is dedicated to dance, the second (Saturday) to the 100 lesser shrines, and the third (Sunday) to the three main shrines. It's a wild, bustling affair and certainly is crowded, with an estimated 2 million visitors coming in during the combined three days of the festivities.

 I unfortunately caught only the very end of said festivities, having shown up on Sunday evening, but managed nevertheless to catch sight of an important event - the return of the main mikoshi to Sensoji Temple, hoisted upon the backs of men and women chanting as they carried it back to its starting point.

 Against the light of the Sky Tree in the night sky, it's a good reminder of the sharp contrast between modern times and tradition in Japan. I couldn't help but feel inspired by the chants of the mikoshi carriers, heard from such a long distance away and echoed by the surrounding crowd, as they marched towards and eventually through the kaminarimon - the thunder gates. Really, it sounds as epic as it looks.

 I followed them a certain distance through said gates and the musical float too, with the musicians inside banging drums and piping flutes. One of the musicians even had a little girl on her lap, who no doubt will be expected to carry the tradition through one day.

 Unfortunately, I can't go without saying that I did miss the best of Sanja Matsuri, which is also known for having yakuza transporting their own mikoshi on the second day of the festival while displaying their tattoos to the public (a rare occurrence), and its Geisha performances ranking among some of the best in Japan.
I'm crossing my fingers, though, and hoping I won't get sidetracked from next year's festivities.

Kanamara Penis Festival: Dicks, Dicks Everywhere

The time has finally come.
 Twice in the past have I missed out on the Kanamara Festival due to work, but that streak has finally been broken. This year, I took all precautions necessary to not miss my third chance. And I'm so glad I did. The Kanamara Festival - or the Festival of the Iron Phallus, as it would be named in English - is fascinating, fun, and a worthwhile experience, on top of being something I've heard about long before I had even come to Japan. This is the stuff of legend. What a good time it is.

"I bow only to you, Lord Cock and Balls."

Let's start off with a little bit of history. The site of the festival is a small shrine in the town of Kawasaki, now located right beside a preschool establishment. It's a strange choice of placement (the kindergarten was, of course, built after the shrine itself,) but a little context can help clear things up.
 In the olden days, people would come to the shrine and pray for all things sex related.
 Some accounts have it that prostitutes were the most numerous visitors, praying that they not catch any diseases. Often, too, did people pray here for their marriages, or for an easy childbirth, or for fertility. However, the most well-known story is more of a legend, with a lot less fact involved. Stories tell of a woman with a demon hidden in her vagina, who would bite the penis off any man who would dare have intercourse with her. In a last resort attempt to rid herself of the curse, she went to a blacksmith, who broke the vagina demon's teeth with a penis forged of iron. Hence, the Iron Penis Festival!

Dicks EVERYWHERE.

 On to the excitement. On the day of the Kanamara Matsuri, the first Sunday in April, all matter of stands are put up, just like any other Japanese festival. However, on top of selling the regular food items such as chicken or squid on skewers, a whole plethora of dick-related items are also sold! There are wooden dildos and toys and key-chains, but particularly popular are the (in)famous penis lollipops, which sell in great numbers - leading, of course, to a bunch of people sucking on penis shaped lollipops on the festival grounds: men, women, and even children!

Notice my less popular vagina pop.

The festival easily draws thousands of people. Most of them are young adults just looking to soak in the happy, fun atmosphere, but there are also numerous curious foreigners, and the occasional daring person seeking to take advantage of the very sexually-liberated ambiance to do something they couldn't get away with elsewhere. Enter a woman in latex with a hole cut out to expose her ass, a man with a giant dick hat, an old guy with no pants. And people still bring kids here? Truly, anything goes on this day. Ask anyone if they mind you taking pictures, and they generally don't.
 And of course, no great festival is complete without a giant float being carried across the streets. After a very ritualistic prayer by an important priest, the floats are blessed and the go is given for them to be lifted off the ground and brought out of the shrine grounds.
 The procession is actually beautiful, with young maidens leading the way, giant colorful banners being flown, holy priests marching along, and, of course, the giant penis floats. First comes the holiest one, a black penis the length of a grown man's forearm, carried along by any one who volunteers to, as they chant to give their companions and themselves the strength to bolster the heavy, enshrined float. But it's the next one that draws the most attention. The most well-known one float is a one meter-and-a-half tall pink penis. As if that's not enough to draw the eye, this float can only be carried by transvestites in pink garb. That's right. The float is carried by drag queens.
 The Kanamara Matsuri is lots of fun, guys. You really don't get a chance to see anything like it elsewhere in the world (though there is another penis festival in Nagoya.) I simply wouldn't recommend missing it. It's fun, it's free, and it's unforgettable.

The Blooming of the Plums

It's a start!

It's a month until the cherry blossoms erupt into full bloom again. Before long, buds will turn into flowers and the streets will be pink for a few short weeks before going grown. For those who can't wait, though, it's a well-known fact that around here that plum blossoms come around a little earlier, and are set to be in full bloom by now. In theory.
 Actually, they aren't. It got a little colder this year. But hey, they've started blooming and should be perfect by next week or so? I would know because I went and had a look myself, just this Sunday.

A few minutes' walk away from the prestigious Tokyo University (or Todai, short for Tokyo Daigaku) is a shrine called Yushima Tenjin, known for two things: the first is its affiliation with luck when it comes to studies. Hundreds of students who attempt to enter Todai pass by and purchase a wooden tag to inscribe their prayers of success on, and leave them at Yushima Tenjin, so that the awesome Shinto God of Entrance Exams at Tokyo University can read thousands of the same prayer day after day and flip coins on whether to let them enter the college or not. (Kidding, lest I be smitten. There is no such God in Shinto.)

Yushima Tenjin, at a glance.

The second thing the shrine is known for is its grove of plum trees. The "ume-matsuri" plum festival is held between February 7th and March 7th, and is accompanied with many performances of every kind (most of them traditional Japanese) on a small stage in the center of the temple grounds. I was on the site in time to catch a lovely dance performance traditionally from the island of Sado in Niigata, accompanied by the distinctive sound of olden flute and string. It's the kind of thing I like catching, if only because it reminds me of where I am.
It was a nice visit, even though it was brief. I can only imagine what the place would've been like if the plum blossoms were actually full. If you like, though, here's a video of the aforementioned dance. Enjoy!