I really do love each Tokyo, Osaka and Kyoto but as it happens both highlights are from Wakayama Prefecture. Some explanation should be given on how I got to know this wonderful area. Some good friends of mine are originally from Wakayama. Suggesting that they have a slightly different character than Hokkaido-ians would not be out of place (like the different between Albertan's and Newfoundlander). The way they talked about Wakayama drew me to it. It possessed qualities that everyone should witness before they die and offered many quintessential Japanese experiences. And it should not be forgotten they were also the first to introduced me to the fine produce of Wakayama. Wakayama-ken is located just south of Osaka on the coast. It is the southern most prefecture in Honshu, not Yamaguchi-ken as is often believe (even by some Japanese).
The train ride through the mountains to ancient Mount Koya proved the interior of Japan is exactly like I imagined. Knife-edge sharp ridges so rugged only the flatness areas could be settled, and even those are scarce. Most of Japan's interior areas are like this, its harsh geography at odds with its beauty. Though the distances by map are not great, it still takes forever to get from one point to another because of the winding paths trains must take. (And there was a cable car after that!)
Mount Koya has a long and complex history, being both a town and a temple. Established in the 9th century as a buddhist retreat by Kobodashi (774–835), it is now the center of the sect he founded, Shingon Buddhism. I found Koya-san more religious than other places I've visited in Japan with the possible exception of Kyoto. It's one of the only places I've visited where seeing Monks and Buddhist pilgrims in exotic garb is a common sight on the streets. Chanting emanating from dark sacred spaces is carried on the wind.
About half of the 100 temples around Koya-san offer temple lodging, so this was a natural place to stay. Sharing the Shojoshin temple with practicing monks, its old wood infused and darken with incense, was like stepping back in time.
Our temple lodging was ideally situated (as in sitting right beside) one of the main attractions - in both terms of beautiful and history - of Mount Koya; Okunoin. It's a bit hard to explain all that the area contains but needless to say it's a UNESCO world heritage site: Part historic temple, part mausoleum for founder Kobadashi, part pilgrimage site, part graveyard, there was enough to keep busy for days. Okunoin is situated in a valley created by five mountains in a very scenic and ancient cyprus forest. 500,000 Japanese graves are located there, a number that is hard to fathom. The most historical graves, comprising a significant number of famous people from Japanese history, are buried up the main path to the temple.
Reenforcing my belief that earlier risers are not crazy but indeed blessed; getting up early basically gave us an entire world heritage site to ourselves (compounded by the fact we were visiting in the low season). The sunlight was golden, cut into slivers by the tall trees, the atmosphere crisp and fresh, and the zillions of paths wandering through the hills where ancient graves lay void not only of crowds, but also people. The tragedy of Okunoin is that everywhere one looks there is an amazing view to photograph. Eventually, I did the smart thing and put my camera away, for fear of missing the experience I came for. It was better to let my senses soak in the mountain. My pictures represent only a fraction of what we saw that cool spring morning. A different world awaited us as we retreated back to the center of town around 10 AM. Under a different sun, the character of Okunoin changed, drained of its magic. (Lost in no small part due to the arriving tour buses.)
For years I've held steadfast the goal of seeing a real example of the quintessential Japanese coastlines portrayed in wood-block prints and tour brochures. I was not let down upon arrival as the real thing looked practically from a story book. Postcard perfect coast stretching for kilometers. The dots of tiny islands, trees gripping for dear life on top, looked like they dripped from an artist's brush. Speaking as a prairie boy, Sea Kayaking is one way I can enjoy the ocean (and even then I will only admit to liking it a bit) and in Wakayama it really does offers one of the best ways to appreciate the sharp cliffs and dark volcanic rock that makes up the Japanese coastline. Because the shore is so steep, it's incredibly easy to get close to the tiny islands. It's magical approaching them in the silent and smooth kayaks, dodging around them, admiring the scant green vegetation that clings on top. There is the unmistakable feeling at being at one with the waves. The water was a warm turquoise and clear right to the rocky reef bottom. With our guide Taishi, we ducked under a towering tidal bridge, explored shallows caves and in general enjoyed how close self-powered transport can get to nature.
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