Kintai-kyo Bridge

Iwakuni  is home to Kintai-kyo Bridge, an iconic Japanese landmark. It’s a pedestrian bridge that crosses the Nishiki River in five elegant wooden arches; each built without the use of nails. Its three central spans rest on four stone piers embedded into the riverbed, while its end spans are supported by piers of hefty wooden logs. The three middle spans are 35.1 metres long, while the two end spans are 34.8 metres, giving the bridge a total length of 175 metres.

The current structure was completed in 1953. Its predecessor was swept away by floods caused by Typhoon Kijia in 1950. Incredibly, the original bridge has stood for 276 years. It was commissioned by Kikkawa Hiroyoshi, the third feudal lord of Iwakuni in 1673. However, a year after its completion the bridge was destroyed by a flood. The local rebuilt the bridge, but determined to see it endure, they redesigned its stone piers and introduced a special tax to fund its ongoing maintenance.

This maintenance involves periodic rebuilding of the entire bridge.  The three central spans are rebuilt every 20 years, while the riverbank spans are rebuilt every 40 years. This tradition continued uninterrupted until the Second World War. However, Japan’s defeat left the nation impoverished and like many historical properties the bridge was neglected. The weakened structure was no match for the floods of Kijia.

I love taking people to see the bridge. It screams Japan. There's nothing else quite like it. During our vacation Mum and I decided to see it before the crowds arrived. We caught an early morning train from Hiroshima.  Our timing was perfect. For much of our visit we had the bridge to ourselves. Mum loved it. While crossing we paused mid-stream to watch the local fishermen. Their fishing technique is rather unusual. Instead a of rod, each man wades out into the stream carrying a small net for encircling their prey.

On the river’s opposite bank, a large park greets visitors. At its entrance stands a statue of Kikkawa Hiroyoshi. The park’s grounds once held his feudal palace. Today, only a few moats and stone walls remain. At its boundary sits Kikko Shrine, a truly tranquil and sonewhat unexpected oasis. This is the family shrine of Iwakuni's powerful Kikkawa family. Mum and I loved it.

We spent the remainder of our morning riding the local ropeway up to Iwakuni Castle. Kintai-kyo Bridge was once the main gateway to the castle's environs. The hilltop castle was constructed by Hiroyoshi between 1601 and 1608. However, it stood for only seven year before the Ikkoku-ichijo (literally "One Castle Per Province") decree issued by the Tokugawa Shogunate. As an older castle already stood in the district, Hiroyoshi's building had to go. It was subsequently demolished in 1615.

The castle you can see today is one of Japan’s ferro-concrete reconstructions. As the Lonely Planet guide notes, it's already stood for longer than its predecessor. Surprisingly, the imposing stone foundations of the original castle are still lovingly maintained nearby. The castle grounds offer visitors a stunning view along the Nishiki river valley as far as the Seto Inland Sea. As you stand on the hill's rim, and survey the scene, you really do feel like you're the king of the castle.

Life among the gods

Miyajima is one Japan's most sacred locations. Its name literally translates as "shrine island". It history is intimately tied that of the nation’s two dominant religions; Shintoism and Buddhism.

Buddhism reached Japan from China in the 6th Century, while Shintoism is a native religion whose origins stretch back as far as 500BC. Shintoism doesn’t have a founder or sacred scriptures like the sutras or the bible. Proselytizing and preaching aren't common either, because Shinto is deeply rooted in the Japanese people and traditions.

Shinto gods are called kami. They are sacred spirits which take the form of things and concepts important to life, such as wind, rain, mountains, trees, rivers and fertility. The Sun Goddess Amaterasu is considered Shinto's most important kami. Humans become kami after they die and are revered by their families as ancestral kami.

In 806 AD, the monk Kōbō Daishi ascended the island’s highest peak, 500-metre high Mount Misen, and established the mountain as an ascetic site for the Shingon sect of Buddhism. This makes Shingon one of oldest forms Buddhism in Japan and Daishi one of its most revered religious figures. As a result, Miyajima was deemed so sacred that subsequent generations went to great lengths to maintain its ritual purity. Common folk were forbidden to step on to the island, as were women, burials were forbidden and elderly residents were sent away to die.

These rituals gave rise to Itsukushima Shrine, one of Shintoism’s most famous shrines. The shrine is dedicated to the three daughters of Susano-o no Mikoto, Shinto god of seas and storms, and brother of Amaterasu. Given Miyajima’s sacred status, the shrine was built on piers that sit away from the shore thus ensuring visitors never set foot on land. Three short bridges connected the shire to the shore, reserved for imperial visitors and monks.

In earlier times, it could only be reached by boat. Visitors passed through a “floating” red torii gate before docking at a pier in front of the shrine. This gate and its associated shrine have since become one of Japan’s most photographed landmarks.

Today, visitors are permitted to land. A steady stream of ferries carries people across the sheltered bay. The transfer takes less than 15 minutes, while the ferry terminal itself is reached easily by train or tram from downtown Hiroshima, 22kms away. Surprisingly, one of the ferries is operated by national railway company. This meant Mum and I could use our Japan Rail Passes on the day we visited.

Our visit to Miyajima was an emotional one. Regular readers will recall that our trip to Japan was prompted in part by my father’s travel ambitions. He’d always wanted to visit Japan. Sadly, he died before his wish could be fulfilled. Mum and I decided to symbolically fulfill his dream by booking a vacation to Japan and taking a small portion of his ashes with us.

Once we’d completed our tourist endeavours, Mum and I ventured out onto a nearby sand spit for a private ritual. In front of us stood Miyajima’s famous torii gate, behind us rose the green slopes of Mount Misen, to our left sat the dazzling white and red buildings of Itsukushima shrine and an elegant five-story pagoda. It was a serene, magical location.

We briefly said a few words of appreciation, before silently scattering the last of Dad’s ashes into the gently lapping sea.  In respect for local tradition we carefully ensured none touched the land. It was very poignant moment.  As Mum and I both admitted later, we'd each had a moment where we'd been reluctant to relinquish Dad's last physical remains.

In life John Douglas McGregor never made it to this beautiful place. However, in death, he’ll rest eternally in the shadow of the gods, while his kami lives on in the hearts and minds of future generations.  It's comforting to think that my father's story joins that of Japan’s most revered location.

Hiroshima

I’m sure the people of Hiroshima would prefer their city’s fame had a different heritage. As every school student knows, Hiroshima was the world’s first atomic bomb target. On August 6, 1945, a bomber called Enola Gay, dropped a 4.4 tonne bomb called Fat Boy, on its unsuspecting citizens. Some 70,000–80,000 people, or some 30% of the population of Hiroshima, were killed by the blast and resultant firestorm, and another 70,000 injured. Thousands more died from its after effects in the months that followed.

Today, the surrounding metropolitan area is home to more than two million people. The city is bustling and filled with life, while reminders of its atomic devastation are now largely confined to Peace Memorial Park. The park is situated in the heart of the city on an island formed by two branches of the Ota River.

Access to the island is made from Aioi Bridge. The bridge’s distinctive T-shape was used as an aiming target by the Enola Gay, hence its location only 240 metres from the bomb’s epicenter. A red marble monument identifies the epicenter. It’s not easy to find, standing against the non-descript wall of building down a quiet side lane. It was the first place I took Mum on the day we toured Hiroshima.

I recall finding this spot back in 1998 on my first visit to Hiroshima. It was a chilling experience to reflect on the fact that had I stood on this same spot, 48 years earlier, I’d now be dead. The Peace Memorial Museum at the southern end of Peace Memorial Park continues to bring the bombing into stark reality.

Exhibit after exhibit tells the story of innocent school children and workers killed in an instant. Perhaps its most chilling artifacts are pocket watches whose hands are forever frozen at 8:15am. It’s difficult not to look at your own watch and consider how transient life can be. Mum and I spent almost two hours slowly making our way through the museum.

Our tour of the area also took in the city’s infamous A-Bomb Dome. This is the carefully preserved, twisted iron skeleton of the Industrial Promotion Hall, a building lying almost directly under the bomb’s fireball. Its remains have become the city’s enduring symbol of its atomic legacy. Nearby stands a memorial to school children killed by the blast.

Inside the Peace Memorial Park lie additional memorials. These include a cenotaph containing the names of all known victims of the bomb. It’s graceful arc frames the Flame of Peace, which will only be extinguished once the last remaining nuclear weapon has been dismantled. In distance, the A-Bomb Dome completes the scene.

Perhaps the park’s most poignant memorial is the Children’s Peace Memorial. Its simple curving form is capped by a child whose out-stretched arms are releasing a crane. The crane symbolizes longevity and happiness is Japan. The memorial was inspired by a young bomb survivors, Sadako, who developed leukaemia at the age of ten. She decided to fold 1,000 paper cranes, reflecting an ancient Japanese tradition that says the folder’s wishes will come true once they complete this task.

Sadako died before reaching her goal. However, the spirit of her endeavour lives on. Today, school children around Japan undertake paper-folding projects, the results of which are displayed in glass cases behind the memorial. On the morning that Mum and I were several school groups were visiting. We watched them gather in front of the memorial for a brief presentation before student representatives came forward to hang strings of paper cranes.

Our tour of the park finished with a visit to a large, grassy mound where the ashes and remains of more than 10,000 bomb victims have been laid to rest. As I noted to Mum, our tour began at the bomb’s epicenter and finished in front of the people it ultimately killed.

Later that evening I took Mum for some Okonomiyaki at the Okonomimura building in central Hiroshima. I love Okonomiyaki, a dish I stumbled across during my first visit to Japan in 1998. Okonomiyaki is best described as a savoury pancake cooked on a grill, stuffed with vegetables, shrimp, pork or bacon, then dressed and served like a pizza. Okonomimura is filled with market stall-style restaurants spread over four levels, offering endless iterations of this tasty meal. Mum loved it.

Train spotting at the Sheraton

The Hiroshima Sheraton hotel is located conveniently next to city's railway station.  This made it easy for Mum and I to find the hotel when our train arrrived shortly before 9pm.  We'd caught the shinkansen from Osaka 2.5 hours earlier so the short commute to its front door was very welcome. 

As luck would have it, the hotel upgraded us to a corner room, on high floor, overlooking the station.  I'd picked up a shinkansen timetable earlier in the day. As result we had the means at our finger tips to predict every high-speed arrival and departure from the station below. Mum and I decided to enjoy a little train-spotting before bed.

We pulled back the curtains and spent the next 45 minutes watching Shinkansen trains come and go like clock work. We can confidently report that the trains really do run on time in Japan.

Sometime it's the smallest things that make a vacation special.

Long, deep and fast

Osaka was a late addition to our Japan tour.  Air New Zealand changed the date of Mum's flight to Tokyo several months ago.  As a result, we found ourselves with an extra day to fill. We'd originally planned to travel directly from Matsumoto to Hiroshima; a journey more than 700kms by train. This would have taken us almost seven hours to complete even with the super fast Shinkansen (bullet train).

Therefore, it was an easy decision to break our itinerary into two and stop overnight in Osaka. We stayed at the Westin Hotel. Our room was paid for using rewards points scored during last year's trip to Canada with Dad. The hotel is located next to the Umeda Sky Building, one of Osaka's most recognizable skyscrapers. This iconic building consists of two 40-story towers connected by a two-story bridging structure that spans its uppermost stories.

We were given a room on a high-floor.  This gave us a wonderful view over the Yodo River that runs through the city's centre and into Osaka Bay. From our vantage point we could trains and motorways crossing the river in every direction.  We couldn't decide if this view was better than the one we'd enjoyed in Tokyo.

We arrived shortly after 7pm.  It had been a long day, having caught our first train shortly after 7am.  We slept well and woke to gloriously sunny weather. It was going to be a hot day. Temperatures approaching the mid-30s were forecast. We decided to schedule our outdoor activities to the morning so that we could enjoy the air-conditioned comfort of Osaka's enormous aquarium during the heat of the day.

Our first excursion took us 50km south to Maiko.  Here the world's longest suspension bridge, the Akashi Kaikyo Bridge, spans Japan's Inland Sea.  It links Honshu with Shikoku via Akashi Island. The bridge spans 3,911 metres, with its central span stretching a staggering 1,991 metres. It's difficult to imagine a road deck that spans almost two kilometres.

In fact, the bridge is so huge that its scale tricks the eye.  It doesn't look that impressive until you travel up into the superstructure. Once under the road deck, everything takes on an entirely different scale. We took an elevator 47 metres up to the viewing platform where visitors can take a 317-metre-long promenade out over the water itself.

The view along the bridge's length is mind-blowing.  The massive steel structure simply disappears into a distant dot.  It takes a moment to notice that the road deck is gently curved.  As a result, you're only seeing half the bridge's span before it dips from view. Suddenly you appreciate just how huge this structure really is. 

Look again and you can see that there's an entire road nestled under its girders. The bridge was actually designed with enough clearance under the road deck to support twin Shinkansen rail tracks.

Having blown our minds with one of Japan's civil engineering marvels we ventured back to Osaka for a quick look at its elegant feudal castle.  The original was destroyed during the war so the structure you see today is a modern concrete replica.  We only stopped briefly for photos from the main moat as the sun was simply scorching.  

It was then off to Osaka Kaiyukan, considered the world's largest aquarium.  The venue is built around a massive central tank that rises four stories.  Inside swim to two large whale sharks, along with a host of smaller sharks, giant mantra rays and other exotic fish.

The aquarium's exhibits are grouped according to their location along the Pacific Rim.  As a result, its marine animals include arctic ringed seals, Californian sealions, sea otters, dolphins and tropical fish from the Great Barrier Reef.  The venue also had penguins, capybara (the world's largest rodent) and giant deep sea spider crabs on display. However, perhaps the most compelling exhibit were the jellyfish.  Tank after tank of these creatures were on display, each carefully back-lit to reveal their most delicate markings in stunning beauty.

We ultimately spent almost four hours at the aquarium, taking dozens of photos and watching scuba divers feed dolphins, whale sharks and penguins.  Mum loved every moment of it.  She'd never seen an aquarium like it.  We finished out day with a quick circuit on the nearby Tempozan Ferris Wheel. The wheel has a height of 112.5 metres (369 ft) and diameter of 100 metres (330 ft).

It was then back to the hotel to  collect our bags and catch the Shinkansen south to Hiroshima. This was the fastest train we caught during our entire vacation. In just over two hours we covered more than 345kms.  I later worked out that it was about this point that our Japan Rail Pass earned it keep. From this point forward, every train we caught was essentially free.

Matsumoto

Japan's most famous Samurai castle sits on a small hill overlooking the town of Himeji.  It's soaring white and black turrets are the stuff of postcards, making it a memorable day trip from Osaka. I first visited this castle in 1993, returning again with Garry in 2006.  Naturally, I was keen for Mum to see an authentic Japanese castle as well. They're such a unique design, unlike any castle you'll see in Europe or the Middle East.

Himeji castle is known locally as Shirasagi, which translates as the White Egret.  It's also one of very few Japanese castles preserved in its original wooden form. Sadly, most castles you see these days are ferro-concrete reproductions. More than a dozen were built during a feudal revival fad that swept the nation in the fifties and sixties. 

Himeji castle is currently undergoing a comprehensive five-year restoration.  The work, which began in 2010, is rapidly approaching its peak. This means that the entire structure is currently enveloped by an enormous scaffold structure. This wasn't quite the postcard I had in mind for my mother.  However, a little research uncovered an equally iconic substitute; the photogenic triple towers of Motsumoto Castle in central Honshu. Like Himeji, this castle retains its original wooden form and can be reached easily by train.

Mum and I scheduled a half-day excursion in Matsumoto while travelling to Osaka.  This meant catching an early train from Kawaguchiko station, making a brief transfer at Otsuki before finally arriving at Matsumoto two hours later.  Purely by chance we caught the local railway company's Thomas the Tank Engine train from Kawaguchiko.  It's a two-carriage train painted from top to bottom in cartoon colours and Thomas-related images.  It's classic Japanese kitsch at its best.

Matsumoto Castle didn't disappoint.  Our humble, amateur photos were the equal of those in travel guides and brochures.  The current structure was built around 1595 and incorporates three defensive towers. It's nickname, Karasu-jo, or Crow Castle reflects the wonderfully photogenic dark tones of its exterior. 

Japanese castles are built using three unique configurations; one for mountains, one for local hilltops and one for flat, open plains.  Himeji is a hilltop design, while Matsumoto sits on an open plain.  Like all castles built on flat ground, Matsumoto castle is protected by concentric rings of moats, each wider than the last. 

We later learnt that the width of the inner-most moat reflects the distance at which warriors firing primitive muskets became inaccurate.  Apparently, Matasumoto is one of few castles built late enough in the feudal era to incorporate this sort of defensive feature.  The castle also features a cleverly hidden sixth floor.  From the building's exterior, attackers can only see five levels thus fooling anyone storming its interior.

As Mum and I entered the castle grounds, we were approached by one of the city's Goodwill Guides.  These are local volunteers who take visitors on a guided tour of the castle. Our guide took us on a fascinating hour-long tour.  We weaved through its creaking wooden interior and climbed floor after floor of steep wooden stairs.  The steepest of these stairways rises at an incline of 61 degrees with each step an uncomfortable 40cms high. Its design was clearly meant to make invading warriors as vulnerable as possible.

The castle interior is a fascinating blend of shapes and angles.  As you round one corner, large cedar beams and well-worn floorboards fill the view; then the next corner exotic roof tiles can be glimpsed from a myriad of small windows. Mum and I loved the curving shachihoko gargoyles which perch on the corner of each roof gable.

These mythical creatures consist of a tiger's head and a carp's body.  They protect the castle from the constant threat of fire.  As you can imagine, a wooden building slowly desiccating over centuries is something of tinderbox.

With our tour finished, we stopped for lunch.  We sat on bench in the shade by the carp-filled moat with the castle as our backdrop. We then wandered along the reconstructed streets of Matsumoto's old town district before returning to the station.  The old town was rather disappointing. Our guide book had promised a trip through the streets of yesteryear.  In reality, it all felt rather modern and austere.

Matsumoto is certainly a popular destination. We discovered this to our detriment earlier in the day.  When we arrived at the station, we'd searched in vain for an empty coin-operated luggage locker.  It seemed that every locker large enough to hold our suitcases was occupied.  We searched three separate zones on two levels before finally discovering a row of empty lockers just outside. Panic over. Disaster averted.

We finished our day travelling by train through the scenic Kiso valley to Nagoya where we transferred for Osaka.  Despite its remote location, the valley is filled with endless villages and terraced rice fields. Mum loved the opportunity to see some classic wooden buildings and witness the bustle of village life in the countryside.

Unfortunately, our arrival at Osaka station was a lesson in pure frustration.  We searched in vain for taxi rank to take us to our hotel.  We followed every sign we saw.  None lead us to the taxi rank. We finally found a cab by pure chance outside a small hotel connected to the station. We looked again the following day  but never did find the taxi rank.  It was such an odd experience given how organized everything normally is in Japan. On this occasion, local knowledge was clearly required.