First published: 5 Apr 2012
A traditional lantern at Itsukushima Shrine, Miyajima.
Travelling down on the tram from Hiroshima city after spending the morning in it's castle, Taylor and I arrived in Miyajimaguchi in the early afternoon. This Sunday, luckily, had been a beautiful day filled with sunshine and barely a cloud in sight. Having been overwhelmed by the beauty of Hiroshima castle and all of the incredible culture and history it conveyed, I wondered how the rest of day could possibly get any better. However, I was determined not to stop there. Hopping onto one of the regular ferries leaving at the port, we began our trip to the famous island of Miyajima.
The native deer of Miyajima
Miyajima is one of those places that, if you have even the slightest passing interest in Japan, you've undoubtedly seen countless pictures of already without even knowing its name. The vast expanse of the central Itsukushima Shrine and the huge iconic
toori gate that sits in the water are sights seen regularly on travel documentaries and postcards about this country.
The iconic toori gate that welcomes visitors to the island.
It's position allows it's base to submerge into the sea as the tide comes in.
The island is part of Hiroshima prefecture, and is also known as Itsukushima; though everyone I've ever spoken to about it has only used the former title (though perhaps this was because I always introduced the topic as 'Miyajima', thus setting a precedent!). It is full of beautiful hills and features a cable-car service into it's peaks (which sadly I wouldn't have time to see, but is reportedly breathtaking). Historically, the people in the surrounding areas didn't visit Miyajima - they believed it was a majestic place, an island where the gods had descended to Earth and resided. Additionally, Itsukushima Shrine is a world heritage site, and the island is listed as one of the famous "Three Views of Japan" - a famous list of what are considered the most beautiful sights found throught the country. Needless to say, my expectactions were very high indeed.
Miyajima surpassed every one of them.
Making friends with the island's friendly native deer.
The first indicator of the sheer popularity of Miyajima was immediately apparent when approaching the ferry terminal. The queues for the ferry trailed far back to the end of the port, even though it was early afternoon and I assumed we were a little later that the peak travel time. Once the ferry came in, the flow of people was overwhelming - clearly this was a place a lot of people wanted to see all year round; even on a cold weekend in the middle of January.
The ferry to Miyajima.
An impressive flow of people; they just kept coming!
A short ten-minute ferry ride later, we stepped out onto the grounds of Miyajima. Instantly I was struck by two things. The first; the absence of any grey cemenete roads. There was rock and stone on the ground, sure, but absolutely no traffic markings or cars in sight to speak of. While there would certainly be cars on the island (and I did see a couple parked further on as I walked along the streets), it struck me how beautiful the island was in lacking this infrastructure. It felt preserved, its development in harmony with the natural environment around it.
The second thing that struck me were the deer.
Deer!
Deer were - without exaggeration - everywhere. In every direction in the main street, deer happily walked amongst the crowds. At least twenty or so were in immediate eyesight; many being clapped by children, trying to steal some food, or simply resting on the ground. All were calm and perfectly at peace with the humans who interacted freely with them (well, most of them - some got a bit more rowdy when they sniffed out an opportunity for food!).
Seeing deer so openly walk the streets was delightful. This felt like a fantasy world; somewhere completely apart from reality and completely opposed to the cityscapes of Hiroshima I'd seen only hours earlier. It was fascinating to see how beautiful this island had been preserved, and how comfortable the deer were with the human presence there. I had always loved observing deer in Scotland, though their shyness and constant fear of exposure made their scarce appearances few and far between; a rarity indeed. Yet here, they were in abundance. I was entranced.
Children play with the deer of Miyajima,
all of whom appeared completely at ease.
An interesting quirk that the deer here have picked up is their adoption of the traditional Japanese bow. Oftentimes, bowing to a deer is met with a bow in response! I'm not quite certain where this behaviour stems from, though I suspect many people have repeatedly taught these deer how to bow as a sort of trick to earn food. It was truly a fascinating sight to see deer bowing in unison with humans.
A man walking by stops for a brief encounter with a deer.
This was a fun little interaction to observe.
Posing with the Miyajima deer.
If only those in Scotland weren't quite so shy!
The sea-facing street of Miyajima was full of little gems. Many street vendors and stores were trading in freshly prepared food - mostly seafood, of course. As we had come in the peak oyster season, I was lucky enough to sample some of the local produce, prepared by a charming man who worked happily with frequent custom, and was content for us to take a few photographs. His oysters smelled delicious, and I couldn't wait to try them for myself.
A local oyster chef's modest operation.
Delicious oysters; locally sourced and prepared.
This man knew how to make a good meal.
The last time I'd eaten truly fresh oysters was almost exactly four years ago in South Africa in January 2008, and even then they were served in a restaurant. I'd never bought them from a street stall before, so this was a pretty big deal for me.
I have to say, those were some damn good oysters.
Yum.
A little further along the street were shops selling the iconic
momijimanju.
Taylor poses with a chocolate momijimanju...
...and the deep fried variety!
As a Scotsman, it was inevitable that I prefered this version.
Momijimanju are a variation on the popular
manju cakes that are so prevalent in Japan; this time, however, with a maple leaf design (there's a reason for this!). There are many different kinds, all comprised of various ingredients, but the versions I had consisted of a soft doughy sponge with a chocolate and cream filling, with one version also coming with a chocolate coating. Even more exciting was that one shop offered them fried in a sweet and crispy batter. Other
momijimanju have the more traditional manju filling of a sweet red bean paste. All of the varieties I tried, however, were delicious.
Despite the variations, all of the
momijimanju had a consistent maple-flavour (I can't say if this is the same for all
momijimanju, but it was certainly true of all the ones I ate). Miyajima has an obsession with the maple leaves that grow there, and is keen to put the flavour into almost everything (including some delicious maple ice cream that Taylor found!).
If anything, the difficulty on Miyajima was having that such an array of fantastic, fresh and distinctive foods made it impossible to sample everything! Personally, I wouldn't have had it any other way. The variety on display was spell-binding.
A shopping street in Miyajima.
Blending in, as usual.
Of course, I should also give mention to an exhibit on display on one of the busy shopping streets; namely, the world's biggest rice paddle. An impressive piece of craftmanship, but I challenge anyone to actually use this effectively as a rice paddle. If we want to get into semantics, it's not really an actual rice paddle - I doubt anyone has ever actually used this to scoop up any rice. Still, it's an iconic display and I was taken quite aback when I first saw it. Impressive and memorable, and also justification for the island to sell a bewilderingly large range of rice paddles each marked with different kanji and meanings! Naturally, I had to pick one up.
Standing with the world's largest rice paddle!
I could argue at length on semantics that it's really just a tourist attraction and
not an actual rice paddle intended for use, but I wont. It's actually pretty cool.
Strolling along the coastal areas was a very pleasant experience, even though a handful more clouds were starting to roll in. A number of small lantern pedestals marked the pathways, and many people chose simply to sat on the benches or rocks and stare out to the sea.
This guy has the right idea.
Taylor analyses her photography on the coast.
Despite these pleasant surroundings, I was distracted by one notable object in particular; a strange camera setup staring out towards the sea.As a man who loves photography and filmmaking, and recognising the DSLRs, this intrigued me greatly. What was this guy up to, and why was he using both a Nikon and a Canon in what appeared to be an attempt to capture a 3D effect? A 3D timelapse effect? Why different brands? Perhaps simply a camera comparison?If so, why the single tripod and complex setup?
Nikon DSLR + Canon DSLR + 3D video? Intriguing.
Unfortunately, I doubt I'll ever know.
The beautiful scenery of Miyajima with the tide out to sea.
In a few short hours, this ground would be deep underwater.
Still surrounded on all sides by deer, Taylor and I continued to walk along the coastal path, until we reached the exposed sea-bed. At times like these, when the tide was out, people could walk right up to the toori gate and see it up close for themeselves. Of course, this opportunity would only be available for so many hours every day. As the tide was currently out, we took the chance to get up close with the famous icon.
Taylor photographs the toori gate.
I'm a big fan of "meta-photography" like this.
The toori gate is absolutely massive. There's no real way to convey it's size and scale through any of the photographs that I took, as the perspective constantly makes it appear smaller than it actually is. Standing up close and face to face with it, however, there could be no mistake. This was an icon for a reason. An incredible feat of engineering and construction, and unmistakeably Japanese in character, but it was quite simply bloody huge. Of course, the iconic reputation comes from it's location - when the tide comes in, and the base submerges into the sea, the pillar stands as a gorgeous emblem against the gorgeous sea. Though I didn't have time to see it myself, I have it on good authority (and evidence from a few Google image searches) that the sunsets against the gate's silhouette are absolutely beautiful.
Coins collected within a crack in the toori shrine.
Standing at the base of the prized toori gate.
In just a few short hours, where I stood would be deep within the sea.
Heading back up the slopes into the town, we made a brief stop to feed some deer and capture some shots of them up close.
Taylor feeds a deer.
Feeding time.
This actually proved much more eventful that we had initially anticipated. We bore witness to a fight between two males, and saw an unusual attendee at the dinner party - one who was happy to use the other guests as a stool.
Deer fight! Oh dear.
(Terrible pun.)
An unexpected guest comes for dinner.
Heading towards the famous Itsukushima Shrine, time was starting to run short due to our need to return to the ferry. Of course, as both Taylor and I had work the next day, and had to travel for several hours to get back to our homes, we knew we couldn't spend too much longer exploring the surroundings. It would be necessary to get a move on. We decided to forego our walk through the shrine, and instead opted to take pictures from the outside (which, luckily, was a cheaper alternative anyway - you have to pay for entrance!).
Itsukushima Shrine.
Staring up at the hills and temples just visible behind the shrine, I yearned to explore further, yet knew that I simply didn't have the time.
We made a final brief stop to pick up some souvenirs and
omiyage (a tray of small presents - usually cookies or cakes - for Japanese workers to present to their colleagues after a trip - though not, in this case,
momijimanju!). At last, we left the island just as the tide took hold of the ground around the toori gate, though the angle of the boat and the incoming darkness from the clouds made it difficult to get any pictures. Regardless, the island by dusk was a beautiful sight to behold before it quickly slipped away into the evening. Taylor and I boarded our train, and began the journey home.
Taylor looking very pleased.
I have to give props to Taylor for her guidance during this visit. As someone who had been to Miyajima prior, she managed to streamline our trip to ensure that I - as a newbie - managed to get the most out of our brief visit there. Without her guidance and recommendations of those key places to visit, I would never have had such an enjoyable and fulfilling visit and managed to fit it within such a tight time-frame. As such, I am deeply in her debt for her efforts.
Taylor; a sincere thank you.
I can't help but post so many pictures of these elegant, gentle creatures.
Though we had spent but a few hours on the island, and had made the most of every minute, I knew that there was still much more to see and do than I had experienced during this visit. Despite its small size, I was flummoxed by how much wonder had been condensed into such a small space.
I determined that, before long, I would return to Miyajima for another visit. There was certainly enough there to more than justify another visit. Luckily, my parents seem rather keen on the idea of visiting - and I'm more than certain I'll be able to make it a part of their next visit to Japan. I am happy to state that my opinion that Miyajima fully deserves its national reputation as a place of beauty, heritage, and wonder. It is easy to see how the people of the past believed in it's heavenly, ethereal qualities and a sacred land of the gods. There is a majestic and beautiful quality to the land there; a small island paradise that every traveller in Japan would do well to witness.
Underneath the grand toori gate.
This photo fails to do justice to its incredible scale.
For me, it effortlessly remains the most beautiful location I've seen in Japan. And trust me, there has
