Kamakura Calling
Feeling smothered by the crowds, omnipresent keitai and packed subway trains? Why not get away from it all with a day trip to Japan's capital? No, not that capital. Less than 50 kilometers away from Tokyo, yet separated by over 800 years of history, Kamakura was Japan's first capital in Kanto, and still a favorite of legions of Tokyoites who visit it each spring. From Buddhas to history, cherry blossoms to tea gardens, Kamakura is old Japan at its finest. Come take a look!
Now a peaceful backwater nestled next to the Miura peninsula, Kamakura ruled Japan during the 12-14th centuries and was a center of Buddhist learning rivaling Kyoto and Nara. It has seen shoguns come and go, but is now best known for its mysterious temples, hidden among forested hillsides.
In the days when Yoritomo Minamoto of the Genji clan seized all power in Japan to create the Kamakura shogunate, these same temples had great sway over matters of state. A ruthless despot, Minamoto killed off his cousin and half-brother, beginning 140 years of murder and intrigue known as the Kamakura period. Hundreds of years later, Minamoto is a name for the history books, but the temples still remain, drawing visitors from all over Japan.
On a crisp spring morning, I was one of those visitors, making the hour-long train ride from Tokyo to Kamakura via the Yokosuka line. Before we had even arrived, I caught a glimpse of a giant white face as it zipped past the train's window. A second and it was gone, reappearing again behind a train platform. The face belongs to an 80-foot statue of Kannon, the Buddhist goddess of mercy, seemingly buried up to the shoulders in a large hill near Ofuna. Gatekeeper to an older world, Kannon turns her back on Tokyo, staring serenely in the direction of Kamakura, and the distant sea. Welcome to Big Buddha country.
There are several ways to see Kamakura's temples, but all hinge on a stretch of town between Kita Kamakura and Kamakura stations. The route takes about an hour if you powerwalk, but why do that? Poke around some of the more obscure temples, soak in the scenery in a tea garden or two, and the day is done before you know it.
There are more than 70 temples and shrines scattered within the city limits, each with its own unique identity. Armed with a map and a little ingenuity, it is not difficult to design your own adventure, seeing Kamakura's most famous locations, as well as those overlooked by the tourists.
Out of Kita Kamakura station and to the left, a tree-lined path and stone steps lead to Engakuji. Since long ago, Engakuji has rated as one of Japan's "Five Great" Zen temples, and is still a thriving center of Zen for students and laypersons alike. Early risers can join the daily meditation sessions at 5:30 a.m., but in winter, beware: the meditation hall is unheated, and visitors are not allowed to wear socks.
In the back of Engakuji and off to one side is a small tea garden. Rounded rock steps lead through a pair of wooden gates into an enclosed gravel courtyard where incense burns before a wooden alter. Benches are scattered about under bright red parasols, and kimono-clad women walk gracefully back and forth serving tea.
Kamakura's temples and gardens are fine places for experiencing the art of tea drinking. Not formal tea ceremony, but merely sitting in a quiet place, enjoying the peaceful surroundings while sipping a cup of matcha, that thick green beverage served with sweet cookies and drunk in earthy ceramic cups. During hanami season, Kamakura's tea gardens are particularly beautiful, with the ground carpeted with hundreds of fallen petals.
In spring, purple and white plum (ume), and delicate pink cherry blossoms (sakura) bloom in gardens and boulevards alike. Ume bloom from January to early March, while in mid-April, the sakura get their turn, bursting forth at Engakuji and a host of other temples. While the rest of town gears up for the annual hanami season with parades and drunken picnics in the parks, in the temples sakura are revered in silence.
Down the road from Engakuji lies Meigetsu-in, founded during the Genji and Heike clan wars by a warrior to honor his dead father. Thousands flock here in summer to see the brilliant blue and red hydrangea, as well as Meigetsu's Zen rock garden, which is thought-provoking year round. Solitary boulders break the surface of a sea of gravel, calling forth images of isolation, paradise or whatever other quandaries the subconscious is turning over.
Like the majority of Kamakura's temples, Meigetsu-in belongs to the Zen sect. During the Kamakura shogunate, Zen enjoyed a special popularity among the warrior class. Its lean aesthetic and live-in-the-moment approach appealed to hard-boiled leaders whose daily decisions decided the fate of a nation. In 1256, the regent Tokiyori Hojo even went so far as to cast aside his title and enter the priesthood at what came to be known as Meigetsu-in. His reward was a quieter life and a clay statue on the temple grounds. Imagine Obuchi suddenly getting fed up with the political life and doing the same!
In the back, hidden away behind subtemples and outbuildings, an observation house overlooks a small pond ringed with lichen-covered rocks. As I approached, a large circular door silhouetted two old Japanese women kneeling inside, both absolutely motionless. After several minutes, they got up and left without a word. I took a seat on the tatami, gazing out through a stylized picture window at the landscaped garden. The building was deathly silent, but the pond was alive with croaking and creaking noises. Though the air was cold, hundreds of tiny frogs hopped about the rocks like it was a summer day, drawing the listener into the picture with their voices.
Down the main road towards Kamakura station, many smaller temples peer in from the hills on either side. At Kenchoji, visitors are welcomed by the enormous San-mon gate, resembling not so much a gate as a gigantic two-story house built on wooden stilts. Inside, 489 statues of Buddha's disciples are enshrined. Though not open to the public, their presence can still be felt, inviting day-trippers to explore the temple's expansive grounds.
Many sacred statues in Kamakura used to get a proper airing once a year, but this practice has recently been discontinued. Apparently, tourists did not behave themselves in the presence of the saints, and they were once again locked away, this time for good.
Ranked first of the "Five Greats" (Did they have playoffs each year?), Kenchoji was also the first Zen temple in Kamakura, founded over 700 years ago. Tree-lined walks branch out to great sloping roofed halls and intricately carved wooden subtemples, all built without a single nail.
Towards the rear, a small path lined with cedar and cherry trees runs into a Shinto tori gate, exemplifying the strange interconnectedness of Shinto and Buddhism. From the gate, the path winds up a small wooded hill where horrific life-sized metal statues seem to jump out from nowhere. The statues are tengu, Japanese goblins out of ancient tales who lived deep in the mountains, waylaying and eating helpless passersby. Some have long noses, and some the beaks and wings of crows. Menacing, they stare down intruders from their lofty perches, daring them to continue on into the surrounding forest.
Kenchoji is linked to other temples in Kamakura via a network of hiking trails, traversing an area northeast of the city known to locals as the Kamakura Alps. The Kamakura Moderately Large Hills would be a more apt moniker, but the name stuck, describing a woody section of town good for short hikes and fall leaf viewing. In olden days, the trail system used to ferry trade and building materials from one part of the region to another, but today it is a scenic shortcut to Kenchoji's neighbor, Zuisenji.
Known as the "temple of flowers," Zuisenji is famous throughout Kamakura for its well-tended Zen gardens. Camellia and Japanese roses line the gravel-strewn walks, and plum trees bloom near the edge of a small pond. Unlike most Zen gardens, Zuisenji is unique in that its gardens use no stones.
Though lost for hundreds of years, the present design is based on an old blueprint designed by the founding priest, Soseki Muso. After building Zuisenji, Muso traveled the country designing other temples and gardens, capping his career with the dazzling Kinkakuji in Kyoto.
From Zuisenji, it is a short jaunt to Kamakura station, bounded by soba shops, snack stalls and tourist stands. As the road leaves the sanctity of the mountains, pottery and polished wood knickknacks gradually begin to increase, until the omiyage count is once again at Japan's national average. Near the station, Wakamiya Oji street is the main drag, lined with shops selling woodblock prints, Buddhist items and overpriced antiques. In April, shoppers are replaced by huge crowds as the Kamakura parade winds its way down the boulevard.
Throughout the day, I had seen scores of Buddhas, Boddhisatvas, Tengu, Jizos, Kannons and other beings of the Buddhist / Shinto pantheon. One, however, was noticeably lacking. The Great Buddha of Kamakura is the second largest in Japan, and a fitting end to any pilgrimage to the city. From Kamakura station it is a short bus ride to Kotoku-in, home of the big guy.
Compared with its counterpart in Nara, the Kamakura Daibutsu is not that big, but it is far more imposing. The immense bronze statue sits alone in the middle of a wide stone plaza, its fingers curled and head slightly bowed in meditation. Perfectly at peace, it seems lost in some other world, oblivious to the legions of devout worshippers and picture takers who visit each day. For over 700 years, the great Buddha has sat patiently under the sun, wind and rain, after typhoons ravaged successive attempts to house it.
Just like its most famous inhabitant, Kamakura has also aged well, still managing to draw admirers after all these years. Though at its most magnificent in spring, it is worth a return trip in all seasons.
In summer, Kamakura's beaches are the best around Tokyo. Koshigoe Beach is one to bring the whole family to, while Inamuragaseki, with its fine view of Mt. Fuji, is popular with a younger crowd. On sunny days, Bosozoku biker gangs roar past the ocean on trips down the Miura peninsula and can be quite a spectacle. Beaches officially open near the end of June, with an elaborate ceremony presided over by Shinto priests. In the fall and winter, crowds are much smaller, and visitors can enjoy the changing leaves or rare winter flowers unmolested by the fair-weather throngs.
by Tom Westin
Sidebar:
Information: Kamakura Tourist Association: 0467-23-3050.
How to get there: Take the Yokosuka line from Tokyo or Shinagawa, getting off at either Kamakura or Kita Kamakura station. If time permits, make a side trip to Enoshima via the Enoden line, then return to Shinjuku by way of the Odakyu. The two-day JR Kamakura-Enoshima "free pass," will take you where you want to go, and costs ¥1900
Events: Kamakura Festival - Second Sunday to third Sunday of April. Dancing, fire walking, parades and cherry blossoms galore, centered around Wakamiya-Oji and Hachimangu shrine.
Engakuji morning Zen meetings and other courses: 0467-22-0478 (in Japanese). In addition to morning meditation, there are intensive training sessions, summer courses and Sunday sermons.
Kamakura Beach Carnival, held from July-August near Yuigahama beach. Sand castles are built by day and illuminated by spotlight in the evening. The annual Kamakura fireworks display is on August 10.
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