Daibutsu - The Great Buddha Trip

Fussa City, JAPAN - 6:45 a.m. - I am en route to the Great Buddha and the silence absorbs me.  It is so damn quiet on the train from Fussa to Tokyo that when we stop and the doors open, if nobody enters or exits, I hear birds chirping, a bicyclist rattles past, and even the scratching noise of my pen to paper seems obtrusive like a loud American haranguing his life away whilst the clever foreigners look on in quiet disdain. 

Hell with it.  I continue to write.

Soon I realize that I am not the only person affected by this nuanced railway travel.  Plenty of travelers have their distractions:  texting, googling on smartphones, jamming out with the ever-present white earbuds, flipping through the morning newspaper, reading leather bound novels or reading the cheap ones that you can buy in vending machines along station platforms.  Distraction or not - things are peaceful and I quickly begin to like it.

Why chat?  Why fill the void with words?  Recollect.  Philosophize.  Relax.  I am en route to the Great Buddha.

Tokyo Station - 8 a.m. - @ a Curry Diner for breakfast:  pork curry, boiled eggs sliced, white rice, pickled ginger, iceberg lettuce with sesame dressing, coffee American with sugar = 450 yen.  My palette is awakened by the foreign cuisine.  Life swells and spins into a pleasant, new mood.  I am in Japan.  I change trains at TS to head south for Kamakura to find the Daibutsu Hiking Trail.

Kitakamakura Station - 9 a.m. - Exit train, wait for it to pass, cross tracks, locate the trail on a map and briskly move ahead of a large herd of tourists wearing purple armbands with white letters - PTA.  Ah yes!  The Japanese Parent Teacher Association field trip without the kids.  That makes sense.

On the trail - I ascend a thin, stone path shelved-in on the left side by a forest and on the right side by a fence and bamboo.  From beyond the fence, classical music undulates hynotically.  I want to find its source so I scramble upward to a vantage point and soon spot a woman working in her garden - pulling weeds.  The scene is idyllic and makes me feel light but I am intruding so I move on.

I look behind me and can see Kitakamakura down below.  I continue through the woods, scramble a ridgeline and discover small shrines, forest parks, cedars and ferns - the whole perfect picture takes shape with an overlook that rolls slowly down an ancient ravine into the ocean.

Two kilometers into the hike I come across a small circular, sky-blue object in the black and tan mud.  I pick it up.  It's a button wrapped in denim.  It is odd and out of place.  I put it in my pocket and sharply notice another object:  a small, rectangular piece of paper with Japanese writing.  I pick it up.  The reverse side:  a photo of the Great Buddha.  I am en route to the Great Buddha.  Sign posts in the mud.

Kotoku-in Temple - 10 a.m.  I buy a ticket which happened to be what I found on the trail.  Could have saved 200 yen! 

 

Arrived at the Great Buddha.

Hase (village), 11 a.m. - I walk to Yuigahama beach.  Jazz movement of surfers, young couples sun bathing, dogs tugging at their leashes to sniff and fight each other, waves crashing into black sand, the smell of seaweed and meat cooking on a grill.  It's Saturday.  I eat a mandarin orange and bury the peel in the sand.

Kamakura - 1 p.m. - Lunch.  An omelet stuffed with rice and veggies and you can smoke in restaurants in the small towns.  It's almost enjoyable nonetheless my allergies come out so I eat quickly to get back outside.

On the train to Enoshima, I spot a line of vendors hawking shit from their cars along the waterfront so I take the Shichirigahama stop to inspect their goods.  Hippies, Japanese Rastas, Harley-Davidson chicks, Aussie dropouts and surfer bums.

Onward toward Enoshima - a 4 or 5 km walk - eventually over a causeway that leads to the precipiced shrine.  I stop for a moment by the marina and eat overpriced clams that are grilled on the spot - the bivalve mollusks writhe and sizzle - fresh - and a cold beer.  The taste of the ocean is an acquired taste.

At the shrine I purchase a paper prayer flag for 55 yen and tie it to the fence where everyone else had tied their prayers.  I ask the gods or God or whoever for a safe journey (but this feels silly - wouldn't I just ask for a safe life?).  Someone inside the temple bangs a gong wildly.

I return to Tokyo from there.  Overall:  5+ hours on crowded trains and $70 lighter was well worth it.

Pearl of Wisdom:  If you give up your seat on the Japanese Railway to an elderly lady, then chances are she'll bow to you many times before she takes the seat and many more times when she exits the train.

The silence is good.
Tomorrow = Singapore

namaste