Partner Content C Bryan Jones Partner Content C Bryan Jones

Ancient Trails, Modern Tales

Many visitors to Japan are familiar with the Tokaido Shinkansen. What they may not know is that the tracks run alongside an ancient route built not for bullet-train carriages but rather palanquins. We take a tour through Kanagawa Prefecture to explore past and present.

Traversing Kanagawa reveals paths from long ago and comforts of today.


Presented in partnership with Kanagawa Prefecture

To keep feudal lords loyal during the Edo Period, the Tokugawa shoguns forced them to live in the new capital of Edo every other year. And when they returned to their home province, they had to leave their families behind in the capital as hostages.

The back-and-forth journey they had to make was long, something we discover firsthand on a hot and sunny autumn day under the guidance of local Shin Kaneko. As the nationally licensed tour guide leads us along a stone-paved road running through the beautiful forest—beams of sunlight piercing the leafy canopy of towering cedar trees—we find ourselves on a trek made by nobles and commoners alike for hundreds of years.

Many visitors to Japan are familiar with the Tokaido Shinkansen. What they may not know is that the tracks run alongside an ancient route built not for bullet-train carriages but rather palanquins. Thankfully, unlike passengers of old, today’s travelers need not bite on rope to protect their tongues from the rough ride.

Born and raised in Hakone, Kaneko also spent six years in France and five in the United States growing up. Later, he studied business at the University of Southern California and set off on a career as a strategist for Japanese retail giant Aeon Co., Ltd. But the call of home—and nature—grew louder and louder, and he left Tokyo life in 2015 to make his way back to the lakeside haunts of his childhood.

As Kaneko observed English-speaking visitors staring holes through maps as they tried to guide their own way, he decided to create Explore Hakone, a bespoke agency that provides tours limited to one group per day. And by group, I mean a family, a couple, or a solo adventurer. This personal treatment has made Kaneko’s adventures very popular among those seeking to experience authentic Japan. And today, we get to experience it for ourselves.

The development of the Old Tokaido Road, Kaneko explains, is tied to key events in Japanese history, and the preferred paths through the Hakone area have changed over the centuries. Some 1,300 years ago, during the Nara and Heian Periods, people used the longer, flatter Ashigara Mountain Pass to the north, which runs along the border of Kanagawa and Shizuoka Prefectures. But when Mount Fuji erupted in 802, the path was covered in ash and became difficult to traverse. Travelers began opting for the shorter but more mountainous route we are taking today.

I can only imagine how difficult the climb up and down these hills must have been in those days, when the path was paved with thinly cut and dried bamboo. It wasn’t until 1860 that the large stones which now mark the trail were put in place.

As we make our way through the tranquil woods on our seven-hour, 6.5-kilometer hike, Kaneko shares an enormous amount of the trail’s fascinating history.

The section of the 500-kilometer Old Tokaido Road that we’re traversing is known as the Hakone Hachiri, the 32-kilometer stretch between the Odawara and the Mishima post stations. Hakone Sekisho is located at Lake Ashi, one of 53 checkpoints erected by the Tokugawa Shogunate. Due to the very steep climbs—the total elevation change is about 900 meters—travelers during the Edo Period needed regular breaks. There were once nine teahouses on the route offering refreshment. Today, just one remains: Amazake Chaya.

We stop for an energizing cup of amazake, the warm non-alcoholic rice drink from which the rustic rest stop takes its name. Paired with two surprisingly filling pieces of mochi rice cake, the amazake was a welcome respite, as it must have been for those ancient sojourners.

While rejuvenating for the next leg of our journey under the thatched roof of history, we talk to Satoshi Yamamoto, the current owner of the business that has been passed through his family for 13 generations.

For more than 400 years, the doors of Amazake Chaya have been open, every single day. The only time they were closed was for a brief period during the coronavirus pandemic.

“I want to keep the teahouse as it has always been, serving people in a traditional way,” Yamamoto says. “Although we own the teahouse, the atmosphere is created by our customers. We only provide service. The culture and story behind [Amazake Chaya] have been made by travelers for centuries.”

He says he also enjoys meeting travelers from abroad and learning more about other cultures while sharing his own.

“While the world might change, communication between us and the travelers will never change,” Yamamoto adds. “They may have different outfits, they may speak different languages, but the concept of welcoming guests will always remain the same.”

Back on the road with renewed energy, we pass across one of the highest points between Tokyo and Kyoto and begin our descent to Lake Ashi, our final destination.

As we near the Hakone Sekisho checkpoint, we walk under the shade of 400-year-old cedar trees planted by the shogun to shelter travelers from the elements at this key point of their long journey. A nice gesture. But off in the distance is Otamaga Pond, named after a woman who was captured and beheaded for sneaking out of Edo. So, while the shogun could show kindness, he also showed no mercy. You played by his rules. But those rules also brought peace to Japan after nearly two centuries of civil war and upheaval, allowing art and culture to bloom and the society we know today to take shape.

Kijitei Hoeiso

After the long hike along the Old Tokaido Road, my legs are demanding a reprieve. Fortunately, Kijitei Hoeiso ryokan was happy to oblige.

Nestled in the verdant hills of Hakone, the traditional Japanese inn is a delightful escape from the stresses of modern life. Like Hakone Hachiri, Hoeiso transports you to a simpler time when nature was an integral part of life.

We are welcomed by the inn’s owner, Kenichiro Hara, who shares a bit of the property’s history as we gaze out windows that dissolve against the lush backdrop of the mountainside. In the distance, we see the open-air hot springs we’ll visit later tonight.

And as a tease of the delectable flavors to come, we are offered yumochi, a traditional Japanese sweet made of rice flour. During my 27 years in Japan, I’ve enjoyed many such sweets, but this is truly a standout. (I even went out of my way to visit the shop near Hakone Yumoto Station the next day and buy more as gifts.)

After the exertion of the day’s hike, I’m certainly feeling peckish, and a highlight of my stay is the cuisine. Hoeiso is renowned for its menu that features pheasant—a game bird often associated with the British countryside that is actually native to Asia—and the chef’s creativity does not disappoint.

Of particular note is how Hoeiso can accommodate various dietary needs and preferences. While the pheasant menu is very popular, vegetarian options are readily available—something not easy to find in Japan.

I opted mostly the standard course, but, because I do not eat most seafood, Hoeiso prepared a course that was perfect for my palette. This is often a sticking point for me in Japan, but is no problem here.

Steamed pheasant egg custard with ginger and tri-colored dango dumplings lead the way ahead of pheasant round with salt from Sado Island, sashimi of fresh pheasant breast with ponzu, and pheasant and shiso porridge. Just highlights of an overflowing kaiseki course dinner bursting with color and flavor.

As dusk gives way to the darkness of night, I grab my towel and make my way to the private outdoor onsen situated alongside a mountain stream. I cannot adequately express how rejuvenating it is to sit alone in the steaming water, the sound of the trickling stream dancing in the background as I look up at the twinkling stars in the pitch-black sky. I’ve rarely felt so connected to the universe as in this moment. It’s as if the energy of distant worlds is flowing around me.

Retiring to my spacious room, I gaze out the windows at the night sky that is normally obscured by city light and recall those childhood evenings of stargazing in my grandmother’s countryside front yard.

Carefully prepared amenities make for a restful night.

The next morning, Hara and several Hoeiso staff see me off as I board the bus to Hakone Yumoto Station. An impeccable ending to an absolutely relaxing stay.

Kamakura Gardens

From Hakone, we make our way around Sagami Bay to Kamakura, seat of the first Kamakura shogun, Minamoto Yoritomo, more than 400 years before the Tokugawa shogunate developed the Old Tokaido Road. But we’re not here to see the usual landmarks such as the Great Buddha. Instead, our journey today takes us around the historic city to explore its rich heritage through gardens.

We meet our guide, Saori Imoto, just outside Kita-Kamakura Station. Imoto is a garden designer who studied in Japan before moving to the United Kingdom. The Kamakura local joined her husband there when he was transferred for work and found the perfect opportunity to build on her love of horticulture. Studying in London, she became an expert in English garden design and has won multiple awards for her work. Since returning to Japan, in addition to crafting landscapes for clients, she has been sharing the beauty and history of Kamakura with visitors through private guided tours.

Central to our adventure are the area’s Zen temples, home to many of Kamakura’s most beautiful gardens. And our first stop is Engaku-ji. Founded in 1282, it is one of Japan’s most important temples and the second of what are known as Kamakura’s Five Mountains or Gozan.

“The reason I choose this temple,” she explains, “is that it has a beautiful Japanese garden and is surrounded by mountains, so we can see a lot of natural scenery as well.”

As we approach the Butsuden main hall, small children from the nearby kindergarten are practicing in the courtyard for their upcoming undokai, or sports day. Surrounded by a circle of seven juniper trees, they run, jump, and laugh as popular kids’ music plays on portable speakers. It’s a striking juxtaposition of ancient and modern culture and traditions.

The excitement of the children also contrasts with the reason we find evergreens here.

“Zen temples are very strict, and the monks need to concentrate on meditation and train very hard every day,” Imoto explains. “If there are a lot of deciduous trees, like cherry trees or Japanese maples, the monks can enjoy the seasonal transformation. They’re not allowed to do that, so Zen temples prefer planting evergreen trees, which create a calm and unchanging atmosphere, and show longevity.”

And the reason for seven? “Odd numbers are believed to bring good fortune,” Imoto says. “When we plant symbolic trees, we never use even numbers; we use odd numbers, because they cannot be divided.”

After touring the temple’s halls, we come upon a tranquil garden that reflects the landscape of Japan. A small pond at the center represents the sea, undulations conjure mountains, and gravel paints the coast.

To Western eyes, the lack of color may seem unusual. But, Imoto explains, there’s a reason for the absence of flowers. “In Japanese gardens, we try to replicate the natural scenery of Japan.” That means mountains, not fields—some 70 percent of Japan is mountainous. “Mountains are covered with trees, so we use a lot of trees instead of flowers,” she adds. “This creates a calm atmosphere, highlighting the simple beauty typical of Japanese gardens.”

In need of a rest, we stop at Butsunichian, an open-air café on the temple grounds that serves green tea as well as other light drinks. The tea is refreshing—I opt for hot matcha despite the unseasonably warm day—and am soon ready for the hike to our next destination.

As we leave the temple grounds and walk along backstreets, the lack of tourists is noticeable. While Kamakura teems with visitors, we’re enjoying a quiet tour using routes only the locals know. And we’re learning a great deal about the area along the way as Imoto shares details about the hidden spots we pass.

After a long walk, we arrive at Eisho-ji, Kamakura’s only nunnery, founded by a wife of Tokugawa Ieyasu in 1636.

The grounds are covered by higanbana, or red spider lily. This striking flower, Imoto explains, is a symbol of Ohigan, a Buddhist period that falls around the spring and autumnal equinoxes. Higanbana mark the September observance. During this time, whose name means “other shore,” Higan, the world of enlightenment, and Shigan, our own world of greed and earthly desires, are believed to come closest to one another. This makes it the ideal time to remember those who have passed and to focus on spiritual awakening.

To end our exploration of Kamakura, we visit a cemetery at nearby Jufuku-ji Temple where Hojo Masako, the wife of the first Kamakura shogun Minamoto Yoritomo, is said to be buried. Masako was key to Yoritomo’s success and the power of the Kamakura Shogunate. Following his death in 1199, she became a nun but continued to yield great influence over the government until she passed away in 1225.

As we search for her final resting spot, we cross paths with a group of students who have dropped by the graveyard after school. Given Masako’s place in history, Imoto notes, they study about her in class and are curious to see the tomb firsthand. Like us, they use smartphones and GPS to locate the alcove tucked away in the back of the grounds.

As has happened many times during our two days in Kanagawa, past and present intersect in ways that highlight just how far back the history and culture of Japan stretch. There’s also something new to learn and explore.


Learn more and plan your visit …

Hakone Reset
✉️ info@explore-hakone.com

Kijitei Hoeiso
✉️ kiji@hoeiso.jp

Kamakura’s Gardens
✉️ info@mitate.kyoto


 
 
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Partner Content C Bryan Jones Partner Content C Bryan Jones

Past Meets Future

The glass panel separating the Enoura Observatory’s gallery from Sagami Bay erupts in an orange glow. It’s the summer solstice and the sun rises in perfect alignment with the long, narrow gallery designed by Japanese contemporary artist Hiroshi Sugimoto. The fiery spectacle is just one of the wonders that awaits travelers in Kanagawa Prefecture.

Kanagawa Prefecture offers travelers a gateway to Japanese culture, tradition, and breathtaking nature


Presented in partnership with Kanagawa Prefecture

Photo © Odawara Art Foundation

The glass panel separating the Enoura Observatory’s gallery from Sagami Bay erupts in an orange glow. It’s the summer solstice and the sun rises in perfect alignment with the long, narrow gallery designed by Japanese contemporary artist Hiroshi Sugimoto. The fiery spectacle, a cornerstone of this extraordinary project which intertwines art and nature, illuminates Sugimoto’s famous black-and-white seascapes photography series, which lines the wall and leads you to the edge of the water.

Visiting this gallery is an incredible start to our tour of four stops in Kanagawa Prefecture that take us through time, capturing deep tradition and forward-looking vision. While Tokyo may top the list for travelers exploring Japan, neighboring Kanagawa once played the same role and today is home to some of the nation’s most beautiful scenery and opportunities to come face to face with Japan’s deep history.

This first stop, the expansive facility nestled in the Enoura district of Odawara along the outermost edge of the Hakone Mountains in Kanagawa Prefecture, opened in 2017 and is home to many of Sugimoto’s works. It is managed by the Odawara Art Foundation, which he established in 2009.

As we stand alongside a long wooden table supported by a massive stone, Odawara Art Foundation Director Haruko Hoyle starts our tour by explaining how the observatory has grown. The striking table was designed by Sugimoto using 1,000-year-old cedar saved from Yakushima, a small island south of Kyushu, in Kagoshima Prefecture, whose ancient forest was designated a World Heritage Site in 1993. The stone was once a washbasin at a temple on Mount Koya and has been crafted into a leg for the table. The design reflects the mission of Sugimoto’s New Material Research Laboratory, which the artist set up in 2008 with architect Tomoyuki Sakakida, to preserve traditional methods of craftsmanship as well as traditional materials.

Stones play a major part in the Enoura Observatory concept. Sugimoto, who has made New York City his home since 1974, was in Japan during the pandemic and could not get back to New York for three years, Hoyle explains. “So, he kept buying more stones and developing this site.” The result is inspiring. A variety of stones from around Japan, each with an interesting history and connection to the country’s past, are preserved on 9,500 square meters of a former citrus grove.

Exploring the observatory is a contemplative experience—and that’s by design. “[Sugimoto] didn’t want people to just stay inside, looking at his artwork, so he developed this concept,” Hoyle says. “People can come here, get away from their busy life, and contemplate where they came from, where they are going, and their ideal relationship with nature.”

The architectural alignment that allows the summer solstice spectacle is an example of this intentional reconnection with nature. So is the design of a 70-meter-long tunnel of stone and rusted corten steel which runs underneath the gallery and creates a similar view of the winter solstice. A light well at its center provides a refuge for contemplation. This reflection on how ancient people looked to the sky and built astronomical markers, such as Stonehenge in England, is part of Sugimoto’s philosophy.

“He really wants this to be a future ruin,” Hoyle explains. “Five thousand years from now, all the glass will be shattered, no wooden structure will remain. All that future people might see are the stones and tunnel.”

They may also see the remnants of the hillside amphitheater, where the Odawara Art Foundation presents classical theater and avant-garde stage performances, including traditional Japanese Noh.

The stone steps and seats were meticulously designed by Sugimoto, who traveled to Italy to measure those of an amphitheater there to precisely recreate a millennium-old venue for artistic presentation. The seating looks out on a stage of optical glass that aligns with sunrise on the winter solstice.

Another reflection on Japan’s past, and a reprieve from modern life, can be found in the Uchoten teahouse, the style of which was inspired by that of a national treasure in Kyoto and designed by 16th-century tea master Sen no Rikyu. But Sugimoto gave the small space a local touch.

“As this was an abandoned citrus grove, there was a small storage [shed] which was used for harvesting,” Hoyle explains. “He took the corrugated tin roof off very carefully and placed it on top of the teahouse. Today, when it rains, you hear the ‘ton, ton, ton’ sound of the falling drops, so he named it Uchoten, ‘rain-listen-heaven’.”

Inside is a scroll bearing calligraphy, written by Sugimoto himself.

Like the stone stage, the room is aligned with the equinox. “On that morning,” Hoyle says, “we open the door and take the scroll down. The sun shines through the entrance and the alcove becomes pink.”

It’s yet another example of the precision with which Sugimoto has created a loving and visionary tribute not only to nature and art but to nature as art. It’s well worth a trip to Odawara to traverse the tunnel, stroll through the groves, and sense the pulse of history presented in unexpected ways.

Okada Museum of Art

Photo © Okada Museum of Art

From the coast of Sagami Bay, we wound our way along mountain roads into the depths of Hakone to visit the Okada Museum of Art.

The facility welcomed its first guests in 2013 and is celebrating its 10th anniversary this year. With an exhibition area of 5,000 square meters (54,000 square feet), it is the area’s largest museum.

The first glimpse of art can be seen on approach to the museum entrance. At 30 meters (98 feet) wide by 12 meters (39 feet) high, it is difficult to miss. Kotaro Fukui’s enormous mural entitled Kaze/Toki (Wind/Time) depicts the Wind God and Thunder God, painted on 640 gold-ground panels. These guardian deities of Hakone soar through the air overlooking the popular foot baths in front of the museum. The baths are continuously filled with natural alkaline hot spring water and are free to use for guests or ¥500 for those not viewing the exhibits. Drinks and sweets are available from the accompanying café.

As we made our way around the museum exterior, we came upon trails running up the hillside. The area is particularly beautiful in autumn, when the foliage is ablaze in fiery colors, but also tantalizingly tranquil in winter, when snowfall casts the sloping hill in ethereal white. A mix of wooded areas, trickling streams, delicate waterfalls, and picturesque ponds, the entire path around the garden and can take 10–20 minutes to fully traverse. Admission is currently free and open to the public.

Photos © Okada Museum of Art (except lower right)

But the true delights are inside the five-story museum, where you’ll find an extensive collection of more than 450 treasures from Japan, South Korea, China, and other East Asian countries.

As the doors slide open to the first collection, I’m astounded by the spaciousness of the presentation. Museums in Tokyo can often present challenges to the viewer, who finds themself competing for position in tight spaces just to see works amid crowds. But here, in the dimly lit vastness, there’s no difficulty in getting up close, and the austere dark blue walls provide a framing which vividly brings these incredible works of art to life.

Learning about the art is easy, thanks to the LCD touch screens placed in front of many pieces which offer notes in Japanese, English, Chinese, and Korean.

Each of the first two exhibition floors has a distinct flavor and story to tell as you stroll the timeline of artistic and cultural history.

The first houses ceramics from China’s Han Dynasty (206 BC–AD 220), Tang Dynasty (618–907), and Qing Dynasty (1644–1911), along with those from Korea’s Goryeo (918–1392) and Joseon Dynasties.

The second features Japanese art, primarily screen paintings from the Momoyama (1573–1600) and Edo (1603–1868) Periods. Taikan Yokoyama’s 1926 work Mt. Fuji, a sprawling 94x873 centimeter hanging scroll, is a centerpiece of the floor’s collection and is on display through June 4.

Images © Okada Museum of Art

The third floor is reserved for special exhibitions. For example, at the time of our visit, Jakuchu and Isson • Transcending Time, an exhibition featuring Edo-Period painter Jakuchu Ito and Isson Tanaka, an artist from the Showa Period, was on display. Part 1 of the Okada Museum of Art’s 10th anniversary celebration, the exhibition continues through June 4, and if you visit on your birthday, you and a companion can view it for free. Part 2, featuring Utamaro and Hokusai, will run from June 11 to December 10.

On the fifth floor are pieces of religious art, including sutra manuscripts, paintings, and Buddha statues from Japan’s Heian (794–1185) and Kamakura (1185–1333) Periods. The craftsmanship of these wood-carved figures is astounding.

With such a wealth of art on display, it takes about two hours to view the entire collection.

After browsing the works, return to the garden entrance and Kaikatei to unwind against the backdrop of nature as the soothing splash of a waterfall can be heard across the carp pond. Named after a hotel popular with foreign visitors that stood on the same property in the late 1800s, the renovated Japanese house is a memorable place to enjoy dishes such as horse mackerel tempura udon and dorayaki, a small pancake-like sandwich filled with sweet red bean paste.

A visit to the Okada Museum of Art is not only a delightful way to learn about the history of Japan and the region, but a refreshing escape to nature.

Admission is ¥2,800 for adults and university students and ¥1,800 for elementary through high school ages.

Jochi-ji Houan

An hour from Tokyo, hidden in a forested valley behind Jochi-ji Temple in Kita-Kamakura, is a quaint little tea house that time forgot.

Built in 1934 by journalist Tai Sekiguchi, Houan is home to three tea rooms—one an eight-tatami space that accommodates eight to 10 people and a smaller room of four mats which looks out onto the garden behind the house. Smaller still, a separate tea house based on the famous Ihoan tea hut inside Kyoto’s Kodai-ji Temple offers an intimate ceremony space for two people.

Houan was designed by Bunzo Yamaguchi, one of the leaders of Japan’s modernist architectural movement, and is an example of the sukiya style of Japanese architecture, which dates back to the Momoyama Period (1573–1600). Based on a natural aesthetic and rustic simplicity, sukiya is intended to exist in harmony with the surroundings; and Houan certainly does.

But as Yukiyo Matsuzaki, planner at Kyoto-based travel experience company Mitate, Ltd. and founder of Kamakura Mind explains, “Yamaguchi studied modernist architecture in Germany, so Houan is a fusion of traditional Japanese and modernist styles which creates a unique tea house.”

We explore the house on arrival with Matsuzaki and Southi Yokoyama, a professor of the Omotesenke school of tea ceremony. Yokoyama shares about the connection green tea has to the area, and some of its roles in Japanese history.

“Kamakura had a lot of Zen temples and many people practiced Zen meditation, so they used green tea as a sort of stimulate to keep awake during meditation,” she explains. And on a fiercer note, she adds, green tea was a favorite of samurai warriors before going into battle.

Samurai, we learn, were once buried in the caves along the back side of the garden, which were also used as a training ground and a grave for Zen monks.

We turn our attention to the main space and the tokonoma, the alcove commonly found in Japanese-style rooms, or washitsu. In the space is a kakejiku (hanging scroll) with calligraphy showing Zen words appropriate for the season, and alongside an ikebana flower arrangement. In recognition of the sacred nature of the tearoom, we bow to each and carefully read the inscription.

As we prepare to take part in the tea ceremony, we learn the proper way to wash our hands in the tsukubai (washbasin) outside before entering the tea house.

Hands cleansed, we take our positions, kneeling on the tatami, and Yokoyama explains each step of the ceremony. (Don’t worry, if kneeling for an extended period isn’t your style, Houan can provide chairs.)

Having watched the master prepare the tea, it’s now time to learn the proper way to drink and to show appreciation, as well as to savor the delectable wagashi (Japanese sweet) which accompanies the tea to take away the bitterness. I’ve eaten more wagashi than I can count in my many years in Japan, but this morsel, crafted by local artisan Kuu, is easily one of the most delicious I’ve ever tasted, with a splash of citrus that is eye opening. You can learn to make wagashi from Kuu in another experience offered here by Kamakura Mind. You can even enjoy your creation as part of the tea ceremony.

When the time comes to drink, admiring the beauty of the bowl is a key part of the experience. I take a close look at the playful yet restrained craftsmanship as I gently rotate the cup in my hands. Finally, I sip the tea and gently slice the wagashi in half. Savoring these flavors through the silent steps of this centuries-old tradition is a momentary escape into tranquility.

In addition to tea ceremony, Kamakura Mind also offers workshops for other traditional Japanese arts, hosts corporate training retreats, provides a venue for Zen meditation, and even guides hiking tours along the trail to the Daibutsu, the Great Buddha of Kamakura—a journey that takes about an hour and a half at a leisurely pace.

A mix of historical perspective and cultural immersion, our hour-long visit to Houan made for a particularly peaceful and memorable morning in this beautiful city that served as Japan’s capital for almost 150 years.

Hasedera

Just a short walk from Hase Station on the quaint and historic Enoden train line is Hasedera, an eighth-century Buddhist Temple that is one the oldest and most significant in Kamakura.

Formally the Kaikozan Jishion Hasedera, it is believed to have been founded in 736 after an 11-faced Kannon Boddhisattva statue washed ashore on Nagaiura Beach in Sagaminokuni and was brought to Kamakura.

Hasedera is the fourth of the four temples on the Bando 33 Kannon pilgrimage route, and as we arrive a group of visitors were gathering near the entrance to conclude their own journey.

We’re greeted by one of the temple’s monks who will lead us on a guided tour of the beautiful grounds featuring koi ponds, rock gardens, waterfalls, and a variety of trees and flowers. Famed for its hydrangea in summer, Hasedera is also delicately painted pink in spring, when the cherry blossoms burst forth, and brilliantly picturesque in fall, when the leaves turn. As we tour in late January, plum blossoms are beginning to dot the branches.

As we stroll through this tranquil setting, we come to Bentendo Hall, where we see the eight-armed statue of Benzaiten, the Goddess of Water and Wealth and the only female among the Japanese Seven Gods of Fortune. As we move past her, we enter the darkness of the Bentenkutsu Cave. Inside, Benzaiten and her 16 followers are chiseled out of rock walls.

As our guide explains, legend says that Kobo Daishi, known as Kukai when he was alive, traveled across Japan to spread Buddhism and secluded himself in this very cave. Here, he meditated and attained a state of spiritual communication with Benzaiten, and carved a wooden statue of the goddess with eight arms. Kukai, who lived from 775 to 835, founded the Shingon school of Japanese Buddhism.

Past the stone figures, we duck deeper into the cave. The low ceilings mean we must crouch to navigate the catacomb-like corridors. Partway through, we happen upon a small chamber filled with miniature Buddhas on which visitors have copied sutras as they wish for good fortune.

Emerging from the cave, we make our way up the hill and into Kannondo Hall, which houses the statue of the Kannon Boddhisattva that is said to have washed ashore in 736. Standing an astonishing 9.18 meters (30.1 feet) tall, it is one of the largest wooden Buddhist statues in Japan and is the centerpiece of Hasedera. According to legend, it has been enshrined here since the temple’s founding 1,300 years ago.

As the hall long predates the advent of electric lights, viewing the statue was not always as easy as it is today. Long ago, our guide explains, lanterns were hoisted up alongside the statue so that it was possible to see the Kannon Boddhisattva’s face in the darkness.

A particular treat during this part of our tour was the recitation by our guide of a sutra, “Enmei Jukku Kannon Gyo” or the “Life-Extending Ten-Line Kannon Sutra.” We joined in by following the words provided in both kanji and romaji.

In the Kannon sutra, Kannon appears in 33 different forms to best appeal to the nature of each individual whom they are guiding out of suffering and toward enlightenment. We come face to face with these 33 avatars in the form of exquisitely detailed, life-size wood carved statues as we make our way through the museum which adjoins the chamber where the nine-meter Kannon Boddhisattva resides. Opened in 1980 as one of the first temple museums in Japan, the space presents many ancient artifacts that tell the history of Buddhism and the area surrounding Hasedera.

Upper left photo © Hasedera

We also examine the bonsho (temple bell), made in 1264 and now preserved in a glass case. The third oldest bonsho in Kamakura, it bears the earliest known inscription of the name Hasedera. It was replaced in 1984 with the current bell after an astonishing 720 years of service.

As our tour draws to a close, we make our final stop at the Kaikoan Restaurant where we enjoy green tea and mitarashi dango, a Japanese sweet of three skewered rice dumplings glazed with a sweet and savory sauce. The restaurant even offers vegan options based on the traditional recipes of Buddhist monks.

As we unwind by the window, the panoramic view across Yuigahama Beach and Sagami Bay is enchanting, and it is easy to understand why Kamakura drew so many seeking connection with nature here all those centuries ago.


Learn more and plan your visit …

Enoura Observatory
📞 0465-42-9170

Odawara Art Foundation
✉️ info@odawara-af.com

Okada Museum of Art
📞 0460-87-3931 ✉️ nishidate.hiroshi@okada-museum.com

Houan
✉️ info@mitate.kyoto

Hasedera
📞 0467-22-6300 ✉️ soumu@hasedera.jp


 
 
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Partner Content Chiara Terzuolo Partner Content Chiara Terzuolo

From Mist to Medals

Just over an hour by train from Shinjuku, the Godo area of Isehara, Kanagawa Prefecture, lives up to its name, which means “gate of the gods.” The mists rising from nearby Sagami Bay often shroud the peak in mysterious clouds, leading to the nickname Afuri-yama (Mount Rainfall). And tucked away in the lush foothills is Kikkawa Jozo, a century-old sake brewery that is gaining international acclaim.

Kikkawa Brewery is innovating its way to international gold


Presented in partnership with Jarman International K.K.

Mount Oyama, part of the Tanzawa Mountains, is one of Japan’s most sacred mountains. And tucked away in its lush foothills is Kikkawa Jozo, a century-old sake brewery that is gaining international acclaim.

Just over an hour by train from Shinjuku, the Godo area of Isehara, Kanagawa Prefecture, lives up to its name, which means “gate of the gods.” The mists rising from nearby Sagami Bay often shroud the peak in mysterious clouds, leading to the nickname Afuri-yama (Mount Rainfall).

Abundant rain filters through the rock and becomes the groundwater from which Kikkawa draws to make its sake and instill it with a rich flavor and full aroma.

For six generations, the Kikkawa family has worked its magic. Since the founding of the brewery in 1912, a long line of artisans has been combining the area’s clear water and top-quality rice to create their sake, Kikuyu.

However, in 2020, things were looking bleak. Facing bankruptcy and with no one to take over, it seemed that the sake brewery’s proud tradition was at an end.

Fortunately, the Shimada Group swept in, taking the brewery under its wing and providing a rather unusual kuramoto (brewery owner)—former architect Norimichi Goto—to lead the way. “I aimed for the sky by designing skyscrapers, but now, instead, I am diving into the deep ocean of sake-making traditions, which is very rewarding,” Goto said.

His first months on the job were not easy. “I walked into a rough situation. The brewery was on the brink of closing,” Goto recalls. “They hadn’t even ordered rice for the next season; that’s how dire things were.”

Left: Oyama Afuri Shrine (Photo: Kunihiko Meguro, Shinto Priest of Oyama Afuri Shrine)
Center: Kikkawa toji Masanori Mizuno • Right: Kikkawa Afuri sake


But he soon came to realize the strength of the brewery’s traditions and connections to the Isehara community. And he was impressed by how the toji (master brewer), Masanori Mizuno, and his team refused to abandon ship.

“I was so deeply touched that they stayed, and it is thanks to their hard work, and the support from the community and Oyama Afuri Shrine, that we got things running again so quickly,” Goto said.

While Kikkawa is still producing the locally beloved Kikuyu brand, with the change in leadership in spring of 2021 came a new brand, Afuri. Despite being new, the Afuri brews have already received gold medals at multiple world-class sake competitions. Nari, a refined junmai daiginjo, even won the Platinum Award at the prestigious Kura Master competition in 2022 in Paris.

“We want to push the boundaries of sake, creating new varieties and bringing our products to new markets, to share the culture of sake with as many people as possible,” Goto shared.

This includes combining traditional processes with innovations that allow the brewing process to be more sustainable, such as reducing waste by only polishing away 10 percent of the rice surface or switching from oil-powered steamers to more efficient electric ones.

For those interested in trying Kikkawa’s new generation of brews, why not sample Rosy-Kasumi, a low-alcohol sake (just eight percent) that is gaining attention for its beautiful, fresh flavor. The use of an unusual pink yeast gives several of the Afuri varieties, such as the floral ‘Ohana, a festive, rose-hued tinge. More expert sake drinkers will be enthralled by Terra/Y, another Kura Master gold medalist made using minimally polished rice and slowly aged at low temperatures for an elegantly sweet finish.

This is definitely a brewery to watch.


Learn more about Kikkawa:
www.kikkawa-jozo.com/en/

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