2023-07 - Blog Posts

Ichibata Dentetsu

The only train to Izumo Taisha is operated by private company Ichibata Dentetsu, or Bataden. Twas not always thus, as the JNR had a short 7 km branch line from Izumo-shi to Taisha until 1990. It was served by direct expresses from Nagoya and Kanazawa (11-hour day express Taisha) and night expresses from Ôsaka (Daisen).

But Bataden is no upstart, they've been around for a long time. They've been connecting Matsue Shinjiko-Onsen, Dentetsu Izumo-shi (neighbour to JR Izumo-shi) to Izumo Taisha-mae since the 1920s. On of their trains of the time was the DeHaNi 50, left in its refurbished DeHa 50 form. On the right is the 7000 Series, the company's newest model... and their first new train since the DeHaNi 50!

In the 90-year interim, Ichibata has relied on second-hand trains (yes, that's a thing in Japan), mostly from Tokyo-based Keiô. A rather nice retreat for these vehicles, from the crowded suburban lines around the capital, to scenic moseys around Lake Shinji... There are some special liveries and trains, such as Shimane-no-ki below, with some nice wooden decking inside, and single-seat semi-compartments! "Wait, is this First class?", I remember thinking to myself.

Izumo Taisha's rabbits

@shoku-and-awe made a great post on the rabbit statues at Izumo Taisha and why they're there, so I'll only add that they are all over the shrine's grounds, and as far as East as the Ancient Izumo History Museum.

In the gardens, the rabbits are depicted doing all kinds of things: reading a book, taking pictures, birdwatching... Yes, all that!

And of course, there are a lot of rabbits facing the shrine buildings and praying.

The plaque behind these two recognises Senge Takamasa and Kunimaro, father and son, current and presumed future chief priest of Izumo Taisha. Tracing their origins back to the rulers of the Izumo province way back in the Nara period (Takamasa is the 84th head of the clan), the aristocratic-priestly Senge family has very much stayed in high society to this day, from being involved in politics and governor of Tokyo around 1900 (the shrine had been taken out of their control following the Meiji revolution and the abolition of the nobility), to Kunimaro marrying an Imperial princess (who no longer holds the title as per the rules) in 2014.

Japan's biggest shimenawa: Izumo Taisha Kagura-den

We've seen larger and larger sacred ropes in our previous posts, and here's the largest of all: the shimenawa adorning the Kagura-den at Izumo Taisha. It is 13.5 m long and weighs 5 tons!

Shimenawa ropes are made with hemp or rice straw. This shot shows just how densely packed Izumo Taisha's shimenawa is - it's almost like a tree trunk, truly an impressive and imposing feature.

Here and in previous examples, we can see folded paper shide streamers, another symbol of sacred items in Shinto, on the first picture. Knots also appear, particularly on the ropes on the Meoto Iwa at Futami, as paper would not fare well by the sea... These ropes and streamers indicate a demarcation line between our world and the realm of kami spirits.

The Kagura-den is a hall just outside the main compound of Izumo Taisha, to the West. It was built to house kagura rituals, traditional dances which retell the stories of the early gods. As Izumo, formerly in Iwami province, is one of the most ancient shrines in Japan, Iwami Kagura is one of the major forms of the dance.

As a bonus, here's a train decorated with characters of Iwami Kagura.

Some life in the rock pools of Hashigui-iwa! The crabs in the first picture were very small, but the one hiding in the second picture was more sizeable. I forget how big, but it was big enough to observe scuttling for shelter as I approached. Closest match on iNaturalist appears to be the Striped Shore Crab, which grows up to 5 cm.

The local birds of prey, likely kites, were also out, surveying the area.

Hashigui-iwa

Since the news took us back to Kushimoto, it's worth looking at another of the town's attractions, besides the southernmost point of Honshû and the nearby lighthouse. Up the coast is a remarkable rock formation known as Hashigui-iwa, which one could translate as "bridge column rocks", as if a viaduct used to settle on top of them.

These aren't standing stones in the archaeological sense of the term like Stonehenge (a popular spot for the winter solstice that also just happened), they weren't moved into a line and raised. Instead, they were originally an incrustation of magma in an otherwise less hard soil. The magma cooled off before becoming lava, and the ocean eroded the sediment around it. This would have created a wall of igneous rock, up to 15 m high and nearly a kilometre long. The wall was then smashed by a tsunami, leaving these tall rocks behind, and a beach of debris.

In the background of this photo, we see the bridge between the Shionomisaki peninsula and the island of Ôshima, where another lighthouse and monument to Japanese-Turkish friendship is located. There's a story behind that (the wreck of the Ertugrul), and I wish that was a segue, but I didn't visit Ôshima. On a hot day, energy isn't limitless so I had to choose...

Space Port Kii (from a distance)

Japanese company Space One has been in the news recently for their second attempt at launching their rocket, Kairos - for Kii-based Advanced & Instant ROcket System; as far as acronyms go, I'd give it a 5/10, it's rather long-winded but has some good ideas at the right moments. The rocket, designed to be a cheaper option for lighter satellites, unfortunately didn't make it into orbit, losing control after 95 seconds.

The launch site is located on the North-East edge of Kushimoto, Honshû's southernmost city, its entrance building visible from the railway line. The action area is further into the woods, by the coast. I didn't visit the site obviously, but the entrance and some support posters in Kushimoto town were hints of the project's presence. They have a neat little mascot too, a space puppy!

Sangaku Saturday #8

Having established that sangaku were, in part, a form of advertisement for the local mathematicians, we can look at the target demographic. Who were the mathematicians of the Edo period? What did they work on and how?

The obvious answer is that the people in the Edo period who used mathematics were the ones who needed mathematics. As far back as the time when the capital was in Kashihara, in the early 8th century, evidence of mathematical references has been uncovered (link to a Mainichi Shinbun article, with thanks to @todayintokyo for the hat tip). All kinds of government jobs - accounting, such as determining taxes, customs, or engineering... - needed some form of mathematics. Examples above: 8th-century luggage labels and coins at the Heijô-kyô Museum in Nara, and an Edo-period ruler used for surveying shown at Matsue's local history museum.

As such, reference books for practical mathematics have existed for a long time, and continued to be published to pass on knowledge to the next generation. But sangaku are different: they are problems, not handbooks.

More on that soon. Below the cut is the solution to our latest puzzle.

Recall that SON is a right triangle with SO = 1 and ON = b. These are set values, and our unknowns are the radii p, q and r of the circles with centres A, B and C. While these are unknown, we assume that this configuration is possible to get equations, which we can then solve.

1: The two circles with centres B and C are tangent to a same line, so we can just re-use the very first result from this series, so

2: Also recalling what we said in that first problem about tangent circles, we know that

Moreover, PA = AO - OP = AO - CQ = (p+2*q) - r. Thus, using Pythagoras's theorem in the right triangle APC, we get a new expression for PC:

since 2(p+q)=1 (the first relation). Equating the two expressions we now have of PC², we solve the equation for r:

again using the first relation to write 2q-1 = -2p.

It only remains to find a third equation for p to solve the problem.

On the JR Nara line

Uji city and the the building on the 10-yen coin can be accessed by train from Kyôto by going roughly a third of the way to Nara. Other famous sites near the line are Fushimi Inari Taisha (Inari stop), and the studios of Kyoto Animation, famous for the music and sports anime K-On and Free! (Kohata stop).

The most recent type on the route is the 221 Series, and it's already getting on a bit, introduced in 1989. It won one of the Japan Railfan Club's two main new train design awards, the Laurel Prize, the following year. The 221 is used on the fastest Miyakokji Rapid services, which do the Kyôto to Nara run in under 45 minutes.

Green 103 Series sets can also be seen. This is the oldest type still in active JR service (if not, it's close), as it was introduced in 1963. In 2016, when I first visited Japan, I was living near Paris, and some Métro and suburban lines were running trains of a similar age, if not older, and these were atrocious in hot weather - no air conditioning, and ventilation only provided by opening windows! The RATP MP 59 used on Métro line 11 was stinky to boot; it was withdrawn just before the Games, no wonder! Point is, the 103 doesn't have air con either, but is at least trying...

Japan's rail speed record holder: 300X

Sticking with the Tôkaidô Shinkansen and the SCMaglev & Railway Park, this is the (highly abridged) story of the fastest conventional train in Japan.

Following privatisation and sectorisation in the 1980s, and seeing France and Germany take the lead in the high-speed train department, the three JR companies that had Shinkansen lines set about catching up to offer 300 km/h services where they could. The aerodynamics and sheer weight of the venerable 0 Series and its derivatives weren't going to cut it, so each company designed a prototype train to test new technologies.

JR Tôkai's solution was 300X, officially Shinkansen Class 955 - numbers starting with 9 are trains not open to the public, either prototypes or work trains like Class 923 "Doctor Yellow". Launched two years after JR West's WIN350 and JR East's STAR21, it featured two radically different end cars. The more elegant one, in my opinion, is on display at JR Tôkai's museum in Nagoya, while the other is preserved at JR Group's research centre in Maibara. The intermediate cars have all been scrapped.

The three prototypes took turns to hold the national rail speed record, and, 300X being the last, it took the record last, and holds it to this day. We mentioned the fact that the Tôkaidô Shinkansen still had too many relatively tight turns, but the Maibara to Kyôto stretch is the best part, and that's where this train hit 443 km/h in 1996. This video may, or may not, be that run, but it still looks very fast - note the unusually large, "flying saucer" pantograph cowlings.

Unless JR East decide to go completely bonkers with their ALFA-X prototype, it's unlikely that the record is going to be beaten any time soon. It's not in the spirit of these trains, they are pure test beds and run quite extensively with the aim of increasing service speeds. Records also require special preparation of the tracks, which is why the French TGVs made their 1990 and 2007 record runs before the opening of a brand new line.

But JR Tôkai have gone much faster with their Maglev programme, which holds the world speed record for passenger trains outright with 603 km/h. Behind 300X at the museum is a predecessor of that record holder, MLX01, the first Maglev train to clock over 500 km/h. Again, this is not (just) showboating, the lengthy test programme's main aim is to prove that consistent service at very high speed with this technology is feasible, so that the Maglev Chûô Shinkansen can achieve this when it opens (if Yamanashi-ken can agree on a route).

60 Years of the Tokaido Shinkansen!

On 1 October 1964, a railway line like no other opened. Connecting Tôkyô and Ôsaka, paralleling an existing main line, the Tôkaidô New Trunk Line had minimal curves, lots of bridges, zero level crossings. Striking white and blue electric multiple units, with noses shaped like bullets some would say, started zooming between the two cities as at the unheard-of speed of 210 km/h.

This was the start of the Shinkansen, inaugurating the age of high-speed rail.

The trains, with noses actually inspired by the aircraft of the time, originally didn't have a name, they were just "Shinkansen trains", as they couldn't mingle with other types anyway due to the difference in gauge between the Shinkansen (standard gauge, 1435 mm between rails) and the rest of the network (3'6" gauge, or 1067 mm between rails). The class would officially become the "0 Series" when new trains appeared in the 1980s, first the very similar 200 Series for the second new line, the Tôhoku Shinkansen, then the jet-age 100 Series. Yes, the 200 came first, as it was decided that trains heading North-East from Tôkyô would be given even first numbers, and trains heading West would have odd first numbers (0 is even, but never mind).

Hence the next new type to appear on the Tôkaidô Shinkansen was the 300 Series (second from left), designed by the privatised JR Tôkai to overcome some shortcomings of the line. Indeed, the curves on the Tôkaidô were still too pronounced to allow speeds to be increased, while all other new lines had been built ready for 300 km/h operations. But a revolution in train design allowed speeds to be raised from 220 km/h in the 80s to 285 km/h today, with lightweight construction (on the 300), active suspension (introduced on the 700 Series, left) and slight tilting (standard on the current N700 types).

Examples of five generations of train used on the Tôkaidô Shinkansen are preserved at JR Tôkai's museum, the SCMaglev & Railway Park, in Nagoya, with the N700 prototype lead car outdoors. It's striking to see how far high-speed train technology has come in Japan in 60 years. The network itself covers the country almost end-to-end, with a nearly continuous line from Kyûshû to Hokkaidô along the Pacific coast (no through trains at Tôkyô), and four branch lines inland and to the North coast, one of which recently got extended.

東海道新幹線、お誕生日おめでおう！

Walking in on the Nagoya Basho

While I saw Tokyo's sumo arena out of sumo season, I stumbled on an active sumo tournament last summer. July is the month of the Nagoya Basho, and the flags of the various participating sekitori (officially ranked wrestlers, all the names on the flags ending with the character zeki, 関) welcomed not only the spectators, but also the visitors to Nagoya Castle. That's quite the entrance!

I did see one or two sumo wrestlers out and about, and made nothing of it until I noticed the flags. That's when I put everything together regarding what a man at the subway had asked. "Sumô? Sumô?" That's literally all he said, no other attempt to clarify. Yes, I know what sumo is, but it seemed unlikely to me that was what he was talking about - we were, after all, just standing in the subway tunnels waiting for a heavy shower to pass, the topic didn't fit the context and what I knew, I was just going to the castle. So I just stuck to looking a bit dim, like I didn't understand (which, to be fair, I was, and didn't).

As a footnote, the Nagoya Basho will no longer be held inside the castle walls from 2025. It moves to a brand new arena just to the North.

Contrasted sunset on Shinji-ko

On the south side of Matsue, there is a famous sunset-viewing spot, overseeing the "great lake" mentioned by Kitty-chan on the train, which would be Shinji-ko, and a small island inhabited only by a torii, called Yomegajima.

It's so famous, that there's a sign to tell you where to stand to get the Sun over the island depending on the season!

While the sunset was gorgeous on the evening I was there (last year to the day), there was also something ominous. To the left in the top photo, one can make out some rain hiding the horizon... and to the South, a thunderstorm was active in the hills.

Still, the showers were kind enough to hold back for us to see the Sun set between the cloud layer and the mountains. But they soon caught up - as soon as I stepped off the bus at Matsue station, it chucked it down!

Hello Kitty Shinkansen. Yes it's real, and it's a lot of fun.

A year ago, I planned a trip between Hiroshima and Kokura on what I feel is the wackiest train concept imaginable. Take the 500 Series Shinkansen, an absolute rocketship (and IMO the best train ever) and wrap it in pink. That didn't sound too appealing to me when I first heard of the project, but I've got to say, the livery is a banger, and turned a lot of heads at every station we stopped at!

The train remains on a regularly-scheduled service, a return trip between Hakata, Fukuoka on Kyûshû, and Shin-Ôsaka as an all-stop Kodama, so it's a normal train... save for two cars. Car 1 is basically a shop, while car 2 is the Kawaii! Room, a seating car in full Kitty mode!

The front of car 2 also has a space to pose with Kitty-chan. As a collab, the Hello Kitty Shinkansen takes the opportunity to showcase the prefectures JR West serves, with Kitties on the map promoting each area's special feature, such as "the great lake" in Shimane (Shinji-ko), "we love this pear!" for Tottori (though Kitty seems to be holding an apple?), takoyaki for Ôsaka, and Hyôgo is "proud of Bread" (any thoughts on that @todayintokyo?). These 8 local characters are repeated on each of the 8 cars outside.

While I'm not a fan or particularly knowledgeable about Hello Kitty, I thoroughly enjoyed riding this train. It's over the top with Easter eggs everywhere, down to the jingles! (not my recording)

All that's left to say is...

History on the high street: Honnô-ji

Similarly to the other examples mentioned in a previous post, a temple sits at the North-East end of Teramachi shopping street, with traditional-style gate and buildings. But this is more than an ordinary temple, as it bears the name of a pivotal moment of Japanese history.

I say "bears the name", because this is not the actual location of the Honnô-ji incident. The original Honnô-ji was built a few kilometres to the South-West, nearer to Shijô (the 4th East-West street South of the castle; the current temple is North of Sanjô, or 3rd street). It was there that, in 1582, Akechi Mitsuhide, a general in the force aiming to unify feudal Japan, rebelled against his leader, Oda Nobunaga. The importance of Oda Nobunaga would be its own series if I had the material, but if you know, you know; I'll concentrate on Honnô-ji.

Akechi's forces laid siege and burned the temple down, and it is widely believed that the trapped Nobunaga committed seppuku - however, his body was never found. Akechi, meanwhile, had underestimated other generals' loyalty to Nobunaga. Toyotomi Hideyoshi swiftly brokered a peace treaty with the lord he was fighting in the West to rush back to Kyôto, and ran Akechi down just two weeks after the coup.

Hideyoshi was accepted as the new leader of central Japan, and went back to expanding westward. He also ordered that Honnô-ji be moved to its current location and rebuilt in 1591. It has, in fact, needed to be rebuilt several times since, each time after fires ravaged the capital. Beyond its function as a Buddhist worship site, the new Honnô-ji includes a mausoleum to Oda Nobunaga, as the decision was made by his successors to honour him there.

I remember passing by this temple in 2016, during my first trip to Japan, a three-week work visit in Kyôto. I had no notions on Japanese history at the time, and it was only a while later that I realised the importance of Honnô-ji. So, as an aside to Gion Matsuri in 2023, I decided I had to go back for a closer look.

Temples on the high street: Kyôto Teramachi and Shinkyôgoku

A typical Japanese covered high street, right? Yes, there are lots of shops left and right, but this is Kyôto, a millennial capital and centre of cultural and religious tradition in Japan. So what happens when a modern high street encounters a centuries-old temple, bearing in mind that it would be very bad form to ask the priests to sell up?

Well you leave the temple alone and build around it. So, in between the big name drugstores, Animate, clothes shops and cafés lined with the street's signature bricks and tile floor, here's the entrance to Seishin-in, with traditional wooden doors and tile roofing. It is also just visible in the first picture - see if you can notice it.

Seigan-ji is easier to spot, further illustrating the contrast. Online maps show that this temple even has a cemetery in the middle of the next block, completely encircled by shopping streets and businesses.

It's a similar situation for Tenshô-ji, though, this far up the high street, the commercial tissue becomes less dense. These temples seem a bit larger and own more land. Still, we've gone from a towering, mineral, covered street in the top photo, to an open path with low buildings and plenty of vegetation, with no transition.

These scenes of coexistence fascinated me when I first visited Kyôto in 2016, with a hotel in this area, so it was great to see them again on my brief return to the city in 2023. More fascinating still is the fact that one of these "just off the high street" temples is not only very old, but hugely historically significant... and I'm yet to mention it!

Can't read my, can't read my, No you can't read my 岡 face!

Arrived here a year ago today: Nagoya station. I did little more than settle in at the guest house and wander back to the station for food before getting a good night's rest.

At each end of the station concourse, there's a distinctive clock - one called the Silver Clock, and the other the Gold Clock, which make good meeting points.

At basement level, there's a good row of restaurants, and I settled on one that serves miso katsu, pork cutlet fried with a hatchô miso sauce. It turns out I'd hit the jackpot, because that's a local dish, and because I loved it! I went back for more another evening with fellow guests, and once again when I made a stop-over at Nagoya on the way from Western Japan to Tokyo. I'm definitely eating there again if I get the chance!

381 series: the last of the JNR-era electric express trains

We mentioned the upcoming withdrawal of the Doctor Yellow Shinkansen track inspection trains, but there is another retirement I've wanted to talk about as it's just happened, and it's a train I had the chance to ride last summer.

Launched in 1973, the 381 series was the Japanese National Railways (JNR) first tilting electric express train, designed to speed up the Shinano limited express services on the winding mountainous route between Nagoya and Nagano. The tilting compensates for G-forces inside the carriages, allowing the train to take curves up to 25 km/h faster without creating passenger discomfort. As such, it is already a significant piece of railway history, with JR Tokai preserving one lead car at its SC Maglev Railway Park museum in Nagoya.

Over the next 50 years, the 381s would be moved around whenever they were superseded on specific routes, but soldier on nonetheless. Their last services would be JR West's Yakumo limited express between Okayama and Izumo, another route with lots of hills and curves. Now, it is replaced by brand new 273 series sets, based on JR West's current express train design, still with tilt.

The 381 series lived through the entire L-tokkyû period, in which many limited express services were marketed with an L symbol signifying higher levels of convenience. This logo was phased out in the 2000s and 2010s largely due to all JR limited expresses running to L-tokkyû standards, and as far as I can tell, the 381s are likely the last trains to wear the L badge, as well as the classic JNR express chevron seen above, on a regular basis.

さようなら381系

I saw it once! Kind of.

After Gion Matsuri in Kyoto last summer, I was catching a train back to Nagoya and noticed lots of people on the opposite platform. I thought nothing more of it, but when I boarded my train, the windows were... yellowed out. I figured out what was happening fairly quickly, but I probably wouldn't have had time to get back out and take a good picture.

Hopefully one will be preserved either at JR West's museum in Kyoto, or at JR Tokai's SC Maglev Railway Park in Nagoya next to its predecessor.

ドクターイエロー。

The destination on that sweltering day I saw the Jetfoil was Jizôzaki and Mihonoseki lighthouse. It's just a 2 km walk from the village, but gosh it was difficult that day! Still, the views of the coastline were, as always, well worth the effort.

The lighthouse itself is a nice little building, built at the end of the 19th century, and nicely kept (if you can spot the ladies raking in front of the entrance in the picture). It's circled by a short walking trail.

The tower doesn't need to be too high as it stands on a cliff, while the former residence now houses a shop and a tea room with a view out to sea.

Like Shionomisaki I covered some time ago, Mihonoseki lighthouse has a "Guardian of Light" character designed for it! This one looks somewhat more confident than the pensive guardian of the South!

"Stick an aircraft engine in it" part 1 - Boeing Jetfoil

In the late 60s and early 70s, all branches of transport were hoping for an increase in performance similar to what the jet airliner brought to aviation, and the solution was invariably to use similar gas turbine technology, with invariably identical career trajectories when the oil crises hit, as, apart from in aviation, far more economical engine options were available. So I was very surprised to see this still active in Japan last summer:

This is a hydrofoil which uses gas turbines to power a pump-jet. Once it is going fast enough, it takes off and runs on foils, greatly reducing water resistance and achieving speeds up to 45 knots, over 80 km/h (which, on water, is very fast). I remember seeing exactly this type of vessel in ferry brochures when I was a child; Oostende Lines operated some between England and Belgium. The advent of the SeaCat, a class of huge Diesel-powered car-carrying catamarans, got the better of the hydrofoils and the hovercraft, which was incidentally another case of "stick an aircraft engine in it".

This specific class of hydrofoil takes the mantra to another level, as it was designed by Boeing, which named it the 929 Jetfoil. Production was licensed to Kawasaki Heavy Industries in Japan, which made boats for the domestic market. The Rainbow Jet is one of these, running between Sakaiminato on the San'in coast and the Oki Islands. I saw more of them at Atami in Eastern Shizuoka, providing transport to the Izu Islands. So, despite the astronomical 2150 L/h consumption (though to be fair, I can't find consumption numbers for equivalent foot passenger-only catamarans), Japan still runs them...

To end the "Canal Contraptions" mini-series, here's a brief look at the Keage Incline on the Lake Biwa canal in Kyoto. Located near Nanzen-ji and its famous aqueducts, it's apparently a popular sakura spot, not that I'd know visiting in July...

Boats were loaded onto wagons at one end of the slope, and hauled by an electric engine up or down before being unloaded back into the water at the other end. Thinking about it just now it sounded rather ludicrous to me, but I was picturing long European-style barges, but the boats of Meiji period Japan were probably not that big, as a picture of the surviving wagon shows.

We didn't go down to the incline, it was just something the friends I was travelling with that day brought up between Nanzen-ji and our next destination. Something to go back for...

A little local train in Hikone: Ômi Tetsudô is a private company that's been around in the area for over 125 years, hence the panel on this particular train, in retro colours.

Japan has many small lines run by small companies which were never nationalised. However, Ômi Tetsudô is owned by the larger private rail company Seibu, based in the North-Western sector of Tokyo, whose main route is Ikebukuro to Chichibu. Ômi mainly runs second-hand Seibu stock.

Hikone Sawayama: summit & castle

It's not about what is there today, as much as it's about what was there. Sawayama was the original location of Hikone Castle, and it is quite possibly the most important castle in Japan to have been completely lost, as it was the castle of Ishida Mitsunari, the leader of the Western Army which lost the battle to unite Japan following the death of Toyotomi Hideyoshi. There are so few traces of the castle, no obvious tell-tale structures... This small altar may trace its roots back to the days of the castle, or maybe not, but this is just about it.

Sawayama Castle was thoroughly dismanted after 1600 following the defeat of Ishida, as the new lord of the area, Ii Naomasa, appointed by the victorious Tokugawa clan, relocated the castle to a smaller hill closer to Lake Biwa. Hikone Castle, which still stands today, basically recycled the materials from Sawayama, and the view of the "new" castle complex and the lake is the main draw for hikers today.

The summit offers good views of the mountains on the other side too, with the industrial complexes near Maibara, most noticeably Fujitec and their 170 m-tall elevator test tower, in the foreground.

Hikone Sawayama: base

Walking North along the railway from Hikone station, one reaches the base of the hiking trail up Sawayama. After passing Nagabayashi Inari-jinja, a typical shrine dedicated to the shintô deity of prosperity with its succession of red torii gates, several temples appear, featuring monuments to two historical figures of Hikone, Ishida Mitsunari and Ii Naomasa. More on them when we reach the top.

This is Ryôtan-ji Sanmon, the "gate to the mountain" which leads us to the grounds of Ryôtan temple and starting the short, sharp climb. As we begin, we are met with more popular Japanese deities: the Shichi-Fukujin, or Seven Lucky Gods.

Apparently Ryôtan-ji has a fantastic zen garden, but we missed it.

The train to Kushimoto: a JR West 283-series Kuroshio express. The sets are getting on a bit, they were introduced in 1996 and the livery could do with a refresh, but the "dolphin nose" is distinctive, and I, for one, really like it. They're also quite rare, only 4 sets exist.

The Kisei Main Line is essentially the coastal route from Nagoya to Wakayama. The full trip around the Kii peninsula takes 8 hours by express train, with a change required at Shingû or Katsuura, but it's definitely scenic as it gets very close to the sea (photo between Kii-Tahara and Koza).

As any jagged coastline should, Shionomisaki has a lighthouse. Many were built across Japan during the modernisation of the Meiji era, and Kushimoto town has two.

After passing through the shrine in this picture, a trail continues to the left to a cape out of frame. People from the nearby port of Koza would go out there to watch for the arrival of pods of whales when their migration was due, and return home to basically say that hunting season had begun.

As such, Shionomisaki has always had a bit of a lookout role. And, according to the Akari no Moribito story, this guy below will be looking out for us against the forces of darkness in the future! The project has aimed to give all of Japan's main lighthouses a character, complete with a voice actor! I don't understand much, but on the surface, I think it's neat.

Shionomisaki: Honshu's southernmost point

Southern Kansai is probably best known for the Kumano Kodô, the pilgrimage routes related to the Nachi shrine and temple complex with one of Japan's most famous waterfalls. But Southern Kansai is also Southernmost Kansai, and the Shionomisaki peninsula, part of the town of Kushimoto is as South as it gets for the main island of Japan.

Beyond this lawn and those rocks is the Pacific Ocean: just water for thousands of kilometres in this direction! The nearest substantial landmass due South from here is Papua New Guinea, 35° latitude lower, or 10% of the Earth's circumference!

That's a nice lawn by the way, it would be a shame if someone...

Shionomisaki is basically Honshu's version of "Land's End" or "Finistere", and there is a little leisure complex to mark it. The recent Geopark Centre is good, but the blue buildings in the previous shot, the shop and restaurant and the observation tower, are from a different time and showing their age - case in point, the children's cups in the restaurant with the mascot of the 1998 World Cup in France!