Erected there at the top of the forested hill was a very Asian, but decidedly un-Japanese stupa. An ornate golden spire sat atop a giant white dome housing a golden Buddha statue. Called Butsusharito in Japanese, these structures are apparently not entirely uncommon in Japan, but are relatively new constructions based on ancient Indian works. Behind the stupa, a gap in the trees showed the coast of Fujisawa spread out below in the thick, grey haze.
Read MoreYaotomi Shrine, Takeshima
The grey skies threatened rain. As we made our way across the lengthy overpass, an almost deafening whistling wind battered against us, struggling to throw my smartphone out of my hands. Just ahead, an old lady's cardigan flailed wildly behind her, desperately trying to escape her person. Below us, the tide was beginning to rush in. Rippling waves quivered across the shallow water’s surface. We soon reached the entrance of Yaotomi Shrine on Takeshima.
Read MoreIse Grand Shrine & Oharai-machi
Some might say it’s the rose-tinted glasses of a fresh foreigner, but Japanese shrines have a special aura about them—a quiet atmosphere of ancient reverence, whether they’re in the open-air emptiness of a countryside field, the shaded confinements of a forest, or the paved labyrinth of a city. They hold a special place in my heart. Not a religious one. But something (perhaps) approaching ‘spiritual.’
Read MoreSarushima: Adventure on Monkey Island
After spending four or five months in Tokyo treading the same well-trodden path over and over again, day in and day out, I felt somewhat jaded. The scenery had become familiar—comfortable, but dull. As such, I was thrilled to find myself taking a series of colourful train lines with names I’d never heard of. The scenery that sped past the windows as the train headed further and further south toward the city of Yokosuka was refreshing.
Read MoreApril Showers & New Dwellings
Each day, I traverse the grey pavement in a grey neighbourhood under a grey sky, down a long street titled Heiwa Dori, or “Peace Street.” It’s an amusing name, I think to myself each and every time, as I pass the hostess clubs, love hotels and a lone, despondent-looking soapland.
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