Skip to main content

A Short Account of Kurama, Japan (And Why Andy Likes Men)

Thursday 26th  July 2012

The Lonely Planet book states that Kurama is a retreat for Kyotoites who need to get away from the pressures of the city.  The receptionist at J-Hoppers Hostel in Kyoto said that it would be a lot cooler there, and indeed it was: the higher altitude (Mount Kurama rises to 1,916 feet) in an area of little congestion allowed us at least a little respite from the overwhelming heat of Kyoto that has tormented us since we've arrived. 

The train weaved the 12 kilometres north-west through dense forest to the small rural town of Kurama.  You can understand why the residents of Kyoto City like it so much.  For one thing, the train provides a transition from big city to small rural town that is as soothing and restorative as any journey I've ever experienced.  The vast green borders that the train cuts through allows the traveller - Kyoto resident or otherwise - a much-needed period of reflection before the real recuperation begins.  

Sōjōbō (literally "high Buddhist priest") is King of the Tengu, who were minor deities that inhabits the mountains and forests of Japan.  A rather scary sight as we stepped off the train! 
A bridge over soothing waters.
I cannot recall seeing one westerner as we made our ascent towards the peak.  Once we got slightly beyond the main hall of Kurama-dera Temple, we turned around and made our way back down.  Andy and I opted to take a free bus up to Kurama Onsen (Japanese for hot spring - apparently it's the only one within striking distance of Central Kyoto).  Matching Andy's relentless hiking pace had taken its toll, so a dip in the outdoor spring was just what the doctor ordered.  Again, the greenery played its part: the spring looked out on lush green woodland - the most natural of relaxants.  Our time in the hot spring was broken up with a dip in the smaller cold spring.  We felt the rather seismic shift in blood vessel dilation as our bodies adapted from one to the other.     

Before leaving Kurama, we stopped for lunch at a local restaurant where I sat down for a bowl of chicken and egg with boiled rice as we reflected on the day's events.  The portions were bigger than we had been given in Tokyo and Kyoto, so my energy levels were fully-restored by the time I'd finished.  The spirit had been satisfied followed swiftly by the stomach.  A brilliant day out and perhaps my most enjoyable day of the whole trip.  

A panorama of Kurama-dera Temple.
And the reason why I know for a fact that Andy (seen below, right) likes men?  Men is Japanese for noodles. 

Me (left) and Andy relaxing in the restaurant after the hike and the hot spring.

A dish best served warm.


Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

An Expert Analysis of Michael Fassbender's Running Style From the Film 'Shame'

Tom Wiggins: What are your first impressions of Michael Fassbender/Brandon's running style? Paul Whittaker: He's running nice, smooth and relaxed. He seems like he has a good amount of fitness and he is running well within himself in terms of pace.   TW: What improvements could he make to his running style? PW: The main improvement I'd make is his foot plant.  He lands heel first and this causes a 'breaking' effect when travelling forwards.  If he landed on his mid-foot/forefoot, this would be a much better for impact stress and propulsion going forward into the next running stride. TW: Regarding his speed, how many minutes per mile is he running? PW : I would say he is running approx 7-7.30 minutes per mile. TW:   What do you make of his stride lengths?  Is he overstriding/understriding? PW:  The actor is definitely overstriding in this clip.  It would help if his feet landed underneath and below his centre of gravit...
Post a Comment
Read more

Norman MacCaig: Poetry Hero

I cannot say exactly when I first discovered Norman MacCaig.  It may have been at the beginning of this year, but could well have been at the end of last.  I found him through a tweet.  Six months or more is a long time on Twitter, and when tweets get to a certain age, they're as stubbornly elusive as a missing person who wants to stay missed. But I know the tweet was left by poet  Jo Bell , the director of National Poetry Day, and whose wonderful blog can be found  here .  The link she left took me to an enthralling 25-minute interview with MacCaig.  I liked the man instantly.  I replied to Jo by saying what how charming MacCaig was.  He had a warm sparkle in his eye that only Scots seem to have access to.  He epitomised charismatic.  Unfortunately, embedding has been disabled on the video, but it can be found  here .  Fast forward to yesterday.  I was sat in Stanman's Kitche...
3 comments
Read more

Mr Pebble Pockets

I’ve called him Mr Pebble Pockets because if I don’t make a joke out of it I’ll cry.  It was about 10:30pm, I’d just got back to the boat from a late shift and I was waiting for my Deliveroo.  He was standing a little further down the towpath and staring at the water.  The night was clear and crisp and there was enough moonlight to see the shape of him: he was tall, late twenties and had a powerful sporty look to him.  He wasn’t crying, but he was shaking and he stood crooked.    Well, it doesn’t take a genius, does it?  I only came out to wait for a bloody curry.  Mother Florence bloody Teresa Nightingale springing into action, hungry and as tired as fuck and now having to stop this guy from jumping into the canal with an anchor for a coat.     I know now that the best thing to do was offer him a cigarette.   I don’t know why I didn’t.   I had the packet and the lighter in my hand. ‘Excuse me,’ I said.   ‘Ar...
Post a Comment
Read more