The cable car was, as expected, quite an adventure to ride. The view from the top was excellent. The bus from the main street of Himeji City out to the cable car station was pretty empty. Not only was I the lone Westerner, there were very few others. Anyway, I ended up following a grandfatherly old man escorting two young girls. I followed them up, primarily to mimic their actions in purchasing tickets / boarding the cable car. On the way up, the old man asked me if I was interesting in Buddhist Temples. I answered in the affirmative. The two young girls seemed kind of bored. The profiling that went on in my head placed the old man as someone who was dragging along his grandchildren to show them their culture. As expected for their age, culture, especially culture that was away from civilization, old, and silent, was uninteresting. That was the vibe I picked up anyway.
I proceeded through the cable car station and picked up a walking stick. Originally, I hesitated grabbing one, as the stick seemed more an indulgence than anything. Then I thought about it, and thought how cool it would be to have a walking stick, just like a real pilgrim. I walked back into the station, motioned to the girls manning the desk that I was wondering if I could take a stick. They nodded enthusiastically. Actually, they did everything enthusiastically, but I will cover more on that later. One of the few pictures I regret not taking is of me at the end of my trip, resting comfortably on my trusty walking stick. Alas, I did not have time... Anyway, shortly into the entrance of the temple complex is a huge bell. There are also 33 (I think) images of Kannon lining the pathway to the main temple. My original goal was to photograph them all. However, I soon remembered that I did not have much time, and that there was a lot of mountain to cover. As such, I only have pictures of the first twelve.
The picture to the left is the Daikodo. Parts of "The Last Samurai" were filmed here. This is the Jikido, which I was able to enter, and this the Jyogyodo, which was undergoing maintenance/restoration of a sort. While I was approaching the Jikido, a Japanese family was leaving. There was an older couple, a middle-aged woman, and two young children. The girl was only like 6-7, I thought. (I label them mother, grandmother, and daughter to make the telling easier. I do not know the actual relations between the group). Anyway, the mother acknowledge me, and said something to her daughter. He daughter stayed back. The woman turned back to me and smiled, then explained how her daughter was just starting English. I looked at the daughter, who was kid of staying behind her mother, eyeing me with caution, and said "Hello. My is Charlie. What's yours?" She hid her face in the back of her mother's legs and muttered something. We adults laughed gently at this, and the family continued on their way. I sit down on the steps of the temple and begin removing my shoes. The mother and grandmother walk back to me suddenly, the grandmother giving something to her daughter. It was her business card, which the daughter translated into English for me. She offered, were i ever to go to Nara, to visit them sometime. I didn't take them up on the offer this trip, though...
I looked around in the Jikido, then continued walking around the mountain. The place is pretty extensive, and the map I had wasn't entirely accurate in the routes. At least, since the map was kept relatively simply, the windy roads and slopes weren't properly transcribed. Needless to say, this is the first place I got lost. Essentially, my journey consisted of walking down one road after another, and calculating my position based on the temple I arrived at. Many of the temple placards had English on them, which was extremely helpful and informative. Also, some of the paths were 'easy' walking, what with natural steps made out of roots and stones existing on some slopes. This lent an aura of ruggedness to the place, and made me feel like I was walking just as Pilgrims would have ages ago. This also led to my unsuspecting of a dead-end path later on... Anyway, the illusion of time travel was, unfortunately, broken at times, such as when I noticed a pile of rusty motors sitting next to a modern outbuilding.
The real fun of the day came when I had nearly completed my circuit of the mountain. It was around five and I had come to a fork in the road. Coming from a path that I had been down before was a couple of Westerners. They informed me that the last tram left at 6 o clock. Well, I checked my map, and calculated that the other path would take me down to a temple that I hadn't yet visited. Unfortunately, I cannot read Japanese, so I had no idea what these four signs said: 1 2 3 4. I assumed that they were just standard tourist stuff, maybe telling me what was down the path. So, as I'm walking down the gentle slope, I notice that all that really marks the path is a limp yellow guideline along the right side. However, the fact that there is a guideline told me that this was a real path that is known, and I assumed that it was the path I thought I was one. Alright, sure, the little voice in my head that told me to turn back got a little louder when I ran across a tree that had fallen over the path. But, my zeal at walking in the same conditions as real pilgrims quited that voice, even until after I clambered under the third such fallen log. So, I made my way down the mountain, time slowly passing. The hike was enjoyable; the path was winding, but gently sloped. I got to hop across a stream. It was about the time that I came to a large empty field 20 minutes later that I realized that I was probably far from where I was supposed to be.
I checked my clock. It was about 5:20. The last shuttle left at 6:00, and, after 20 minutes of walking I had yet to come to the temple I was supposed to reach after, in my estimation, 5-10 minutes. I started down a path that led in what I thought was the right direction, but then the little voice in my head that warned caution allied with my common sense to tell me to book it back up the mountain and dash to the place labeled 'shuttle stop for the cable car' on my map. I heeded it this time. That was the most strenuous run I've had in years. My heart hasn't pounded like that in recent memory. In a bit of craziness, I wondered at one point whether or not I'd have to try to sleep on the mountain. I rested three times, granting myself a minute squatting on a sharp rock until my breathing wasn't so heavy. It took me twenty minutes to run back up the path, matching the twenty minutes it had taken me to walk down. When I reached the entrance at the top, I stopped and rested and pulled out my map. My sweat had permeated the map completely, giving it the consistency of wet paper. Though I was pressed for time, I did stop long enough to snap the pictures of the warning signs posted above. After that, I ran to where the bus stop was supposed to be and didn't see anything or anyone. I thought, greatly misjudging my abilities in my current condition, that perhaps I could run down to the stop. Luckily, I heard two men walking between two of the buildings nearby. I ran up to them, and asked them if the Bus was coming. One said "Bus? No, no Bus". He realized the direness of my predicament, though, and beckoned me to his car. I got in, and he drove me down to get me to the cable car station to see the last group boarding. I thanked him profusely as I exited the car.
Tired, drenched in my own sweat to the point it looked like I had walked through a storm, I made my way into the station. I'm pretty sure I looked like crap. Anyway, my pockets were full of pamphlets, tickets, and maps I had picked up during the day, all out of order from my constant bringing out and replacing the Engyoji map. So, upon reaching the turnstile to enter the cable car station, I pulled out a ticket. The three uniformed women behind the turnstile shook their heads and pointed out to me that that was the ticket for Kokoen park. So, I rifled through my bookbag and pockets, checking anywhere I could have put papers. Finally, I pulled out the ticket triumphantly and showed it to them. The three woman clapped excitedly, cheering for me. The cynical part of me (ie, most of me), wondered "Are you mocking me? I just ran up a mountain", before I realized that that was simply a normal reaction to my hurried search for my ticket. I had succeeded in finding the ticket, and thus was worthy of ovation. Bemused, I made my way through the gates and boarded the cable car back down the station. I'll admit that, watching the ground slowly come closer, I thought "If every day is like this, this trip will be awesome".
Alas, there were no more adventures on the scale of that one. However, there was a lot of getting lost. That's almost as good.
Engyoji is an excellent place to visit, though, and my misreading of the map and getting lost was due to my own stupidity and my lack of patience than anything. If anyone is going to visit Himeji castle, I highly recommend taking the trip to Engyoji (if you are the kind of person who likes walking mountain paths in peaceful solitude). My piece of advice is just to find out, before wandering the mountain, when the last cable car goes down and plan appropriately. No exploring unknown paths that are labeled with signs that appear kind of like warnings. And, if a tree is fallen over a path, it is probably not to be taken. Important lesson to learn, that.
Extras:
Here is the map of the temple complex. You start near the bottom right. You know, if that map's accurate, I probably was pretty far down the mountain... or not...
Wikipedia site for Engyo-ji Temple.
All of my pictures for Engyo-ji in my mega-photo dump begin here.