Day 44: Bekkaku Temple 15

Honestly, I would write longer posts if could get a standard table with chair. I’ve been writing these last few posts sitting on a tatami mat floor with my iPad on a small coffee table. It’s not a comfortable position for me. I’m currently laying on my side typing on my iPhone. I type for a living, but I think I need a table and chair to do it comfortably. I notice my posts made while sitting on the floor are much shorter than the ones I write while sitting how I’m used to. When I’m writing sitting on the tatamis, proofreading goes out the window too.

We got an early start today as we had to first walking nearly four hours to our lodging, drop off our backpacks, go the the temple several kilometers beyond and up the side of a mountain, and then return to the inn.

The walk was uneventful and mostly along a highway. We did have several small opportunities to take the quieter side roads and we took them.

It’s hard to tell by the picture, but I can understand why traditional Japanese gardens focus so much on green-leaved plants and trees. There are so many subtle shades of green with slightly different tints in the countryside.

Trying to complete a 3 hour 50 minutes hike before noon.

Entering Ikedo just before noon. We dropped off our backpacks and got the the temple gate a little after 2:00 p.m.

“Bekkaku temples really are a mixed bag,” Connor stated as we approached the sanmon for Hashikuraji. It was true. They run from ‘amazing” to “meh” and Hashikuraji appeared that it would fall into the “amazing” category. The main gate was a good distance from the main complex and there was a long path, a bridge and many stairs between them.

*Sanmon* – Hashikuraji (Bekkaku Temple 15 – “Chopstick Warehouse Temple”)

The path up to the temple. The bridge is behind the statue.

Interior of the *Daishido* – Hashikuraji

Mini-88 Temple Pilgrimage. For those who cannot physically perform the full pilgrimage. 88 statues representing each of the temples on the pilgrimage allows them to participate. It’s hard to tell from the picture, but 88 small statues with numbers on them surround the central area.

On this staircase each step had a tile with a kanji character etched into it. I *think* they represent the years in a human life. Some years are considered unlucky and they are different years depending upon your gender.

We both recommend a visit to Hashikuraji if you ever get an opportunity.

When we first stopped into our inn at noon, the proprietress asked if we would like meat for dinner. We said “yes” and came down to self-BBQ packages of beef, chopped onions, and cabbage. We were stuffed by the end.

International incident: The innkeeper encouraged both of us to visit the onsen which was right across the street. A good hot bath seemed like a good idea after dinner. Then place was crowded when we arrived, but we did our best to fit in – ignoring the short pause in all conversations as two naked foreigners step into the common bath area. Part of the routine in the public baths is to sit on a little stool and take care of your shampoo, conditioner, and body washing routines before rinsing off and climbing into the large, hot common bath. I had found a spot with a spigot and without a stool in front of it that appeared to be free. I grabbed a stool from the corner and started soaping up. I was about to rinse when an older man behind me started speaking. It appears I had taken “his” spot. Truthfully, there was a small bowl with soap and shampoo next to spigot I was at, but there were small bowls with soap and shampoo all over the bathing area. I apologized once but the man continued to lecture me. I had no idea what he was saying. I apologized a second time and he continued lecturing me. Now the thing is, I’m still absolutely covered in soap and shampoo and I had no intention of leaving the spot until I was a rinsed off. The thought didn’t really cross my mind to move. This continued for a little while longer and whole room had gotten quiet behind me. Finally, the man grabbed his bowl and moved to another spigot, complaining to another patron while pointing at me.

It may have helped that I was more than twice his size, but I didn’t feel it was going to escalate beyond a “lecture” in a language I only partially understood. It felt more like an “oops” moment to me than any major breach in etiquette.

After the “incident”, the room went immediately back to its regular noise level and jovial conversations. Connor and I, now both rinsed off, got into the common tub. The rest of the onsen trip proceeded normally. I did, however, get a lot more “sorry”s and “excuse me”s in English from the younger men in the crowded dressing area than I would have expected.