Japanese cities with their boxy concrete buildings, lack of green space and rows of trees pruned within an inch of their life can induce feelings that verge on claustrophobia and an intense craving for nature and open spaces. These feelings and the granting of a long weekend prompted my girlfriend and me to plan a two day escape to the hills in southern Japan, a region renowned for its volcanic peaks and hot springs.
From Kagoshima City, on the island of Kyushu, we hopped aboard the Limited Express bound for Kirishimajingu Station, the jumping off point for Kirishima National Park. It didn’t take long for the train – a bright red, diesel powered thing – to be out of the city limits and shuttling through the countryside. To the north were rice paddies and thick plots of bamboo and to the south – for the train hugged the coastline – Kinko Bay. The dominant feature of the bay is undoubtedly Sakurajima, an active volcano, Japan’s very own Vesuvius spewing tones of volcanic ash and smoke on a daily basis.
Sakurajima, at 1117 meters, is emblematic of this region’s geography. It was once an island, until 1914 when a great eruption saw huge volumes of rock and lava fill the straits, connecting it with the mainland. The surrounding area, taking in Kirishima National Park, includes a volcanic wonderland of steaming peaks, caldera lakes and huge craters. A positive spin-off from this volcanic activity is the onsen (hot spring baths). There are over 200 sources of onsen in Kagoshima City alone, the latest addition of which is a foot-bath at the airport, just the tonic for those long waits in transit.
Before setting out for a day’s hiking we decided to make a brief stop at Kirishima Jinja, a Shinto shrine. It was the start of spring and the cherry blossoms were in their early stages; the pink and white flowers, provided a beautiful garnish to the bright red main building of the shrine which branches out and upwards into surrounding woodlands.
There were many people paying their respects at the shrine – families and couples and large groups led by flag-waving guides. After washing their hands with the holy water they would walk to the main building, throw a coin or two into the donation box, pause and bow, clap twice and bow again. Watching them carry out these rituals, and seeing how naturally it came to them, I was conscious of my position as an outsider. I find Japanese shrines fascinating but lacking any spiritual connection with them always feel somewhat of an intruder whenever I visit them.
From the shrine, we boarded a bus to Takachiho-Gawara, the starting point for our hike. The bus took us uphill, ascending through a changing landscape: bamboo and fir and then, as we neared the plateau, pine and cedar. Upon arriving at Takachiho, we picked up some trail maps from the information centre – all in Japanese – quickly orientated ourselves and then began our first climb, Naka-Dake at 1345m.
Once we had gotten through the thick lowland scrub of Naka-Dake we had a better view of nearby Mt Takachiho. It was on this mountain, as legend has it, that the fire god, Niniginomikoto made his fabled descent to earth. His descent is still celebrated at shrines in the area, and the raised platform and stairway of a shrine he is said to have built at the foot of the mountain is still visible to this day.
It was windy at the top of Naka-Dake but the air was clear and our position lent some fine views of the surrounding countryside. To the south, beyond Takachiho, the rolling hills and sharp peaks of the Kirishima range reach all the way to Kinko Bay and the smoking cone of Sakurajima; to the north, lay our planned route along a chain of volcanic peaks and craters ending with Mount Karakuni, the largest in the range.
As we follow the rocky trail to the next peak, Shimnoe-Dake, passing through the yellow mountain grasses, we begin to notice a rotten egg smell in the air, gaining strength as we continue. Soon we arrive at the source of the smelly gas – a crater, several hundred metres in diameter and around 100 deep with a greeny-blue pool of water at the bottom. Initially, I am winded at the site of this deep, stinking pit. I had not expected the earth to simply give way in such an extreme manner, at such a sharp angle. The sides of the crater consisted of grey, volcanic rock; closer to the pool the rock became finer with an ash-like consistency. The crater was very much active and produced thin columns of smoke which rose from various spots around the pool, quickly fading as it encountered the erratic wind. Shinmoe-Dake, as we later learned, is often the cause of the parks closure to hikers due to it’s emission of toxic gasses.
Setting off again, we followed the trail around the rim of the crater and then dipped as we descended the northern face of the mountain. Halfway down, we encountered a large group of elderly hikers. We stopped and let them pass. They seemed in terrific shape; they carried hiking poles and were fitted out in the latest and brightest outdoor apparel. Throughout my travels in Japan, the sight of large groups of elderly Japanese hikers was not uncommon. In fact, most hikers I saw were of a retiring age. This, I thought, must be their reward. After years of putting in 12 hour days as salary men in auto companies or as tireless bureaucrats they were finally free to enjoy the wonders of Japan’s natural environment.
After making our next ascent, Shishiko-Dake, we descended into dense thickets of flowerless azalea shrubs and then, as we approached the foot of our final climb, Mt Karakuni, passed through a forest of bamboo. Karakuni, at over 1700 metres, is the highest in the range and towered ominously over us as we began the climb. The bamboo began to encroach greedily upon us and the trail became boggy, slowing our progress significantly. We had been hiking for four hours now and were both starting to tire.
As we neared the summit of Karakuni dark clouds materialized from the north and the wind picked up an icy edge; our breath became visible in the fading light. At the top of Karakuni we were again taken aback: another gaping crater. The wind was strong and I approached the edge with caution, taking the last few feet on my hands and knees. This crater differed from the first in that it was much deeper and dropped at a more extreme angle, almost canyon-like. I noticed icicles forming on the plants that clung to the edge of the escarpment.
The view from the summit of Mount Karakuni is exhilarating. The chain of volcanoes stretches southwards and, having spent the day climbing them, you appreciate the view even more. Looking back towards Takachiho, the mountain looked so far away and even the massive crater of Shinmoe-Dake looked puzzlingly distant. There were more craters to the east and west; there were sparkling blue caldera lakes; and rising from numerous points around the park were thick plumes of steamy sulfurous gas. It is a wonderful feeling, a mix of relief and accomplishment, to climb four mountains in one day and then, getting to the top of the final one, seeing how far you’ve come.
We made the descent of Karakuni on shaky legs and it was dark by the time we checked into our ryokan (Japanese inn) in the small township of Ebino Kogen. Unfortunately, for us, the kitchen was closed for the night and only an abbreviated meal was available. After eating our fill of soup and rice balls we dressed in our traditional Japanese bath gowns and walked down the tatami matted hallway to the onsen. The baths were single-sex so we separated at the entrance.
It was my very first onsen experience and I was not looking forward to bathing naked with strangers. Fortunately, though, the bath was unoccupied, so I had it all to myself. With just a small towel I made the dip. It was a sublime experience, the perfect antidote to aching muscles and windblown skin. I soaked for almost an hour, allowing my body to wallow in the super hot mineral water.
We awoke the next morning to the sight of deer grazing in the yard outside our window. We dressed and walked out to the dining room where a traditional Japanese breakfast had been laid out. There was fish, miso soup, pickled radish, rice, green tea and a small burner to fry an egg. It was a fulfilling meal and we ate it in the warm morning light, watching the deer wander freely, grazing in the grounds.
On the way back to Kagoshima City we decided to stop in at the Iwasaki Hotel, a famous onsen resort. The baths here were of a green-yellow colour and smelt strongly of sulfur. Emboldened by my first onsen experience I had no problem stripping and taking a bath amongst other naked men. The Iwasaki onsen features an elaborate complex of baths – some outside, others indoors; some scorching hot, others merely warm. The first few I tried were far too hot but I eventually found one to my liking and lazed there until my half-hour was up. My body sufficiently onsened, I walked out to meet my girlfriend at the bus stop where we stood in the warm sun, joking about the sulfurous smell our skin had taken on.
From Kagoshima City, on the island of Kyushu, we hopped aboard the Limited Express bound for Kirishimajingu Station, the jumping off point for Kirishima National Park. It didn’t take long for the train – a bright red, diesel powered thing – to be out of the city limits and shuttling through the countryside. To the north were rice paddies and thick plots of bamboo and to the south – for the train hugged the coastline – Kinko Bay. The dominant feature of the bay is undoubtedly Sakurajima, an active volcano, Japan’s very own Vesuvius spewing tones of volcanic ash and smoke on a daily basis.
Sakurajima, at 1117 meters, is emblematic of this region’s geography. It was once an island, until 1914 when a great eruption saw huge volumes of rock and lava fill the straits, connecting it with the mainland. The surrounding area, taking in Kirishima National Park, includes a volcanic wonderland of steaming peaks, caldera lakes and huge craters. A positive spin-off from this volcanic activity is the onsen (hot spring baths). There are over 200 sources of onsen in Kagoshima City alone, the latest addition of which is a foot-bath at the airport, just the tonic for those long waits in transit.
Before setting out for a day’s hiking we decided to make a brief stop at Kirishima Jinja, a Shinto shrine. It was the start of spring and the cherry blossoms were in their early stages; the pink and white flowers, provided a beautiful garnish to the bright red main building of the shrine which branches out and upwards into surrounding woodlands.
There were many people paying their respects at the shrine – families and couples and large groups led by flag-waving guides. After washing their hands with the holy water they would walk to the main building, throw a coin or two into the donation box, pause and bow, clap twice and bow again. Watching them carry out these rituals, and seeing how naturally it came to them, I was conscious of my position as an outsider. I find Japanese shrines fascinating but lacking any spiritual connection with them always feel somewhat of an intruder whenever I visit them.
From the shrine, we boarded a bus to Takachiho-Gawara, the starting point for our hike. The bus took us uphill, ascending through a changing landscape: bamboo and fir and then, as we neared the plateau, pine and cedar. Upon arriving at Takachiho, we picked up some trail maps from the information centre – all in Japanese – quickly orientated ourselves and then began our first climb, Naka-Dake at 1345m.
Once we had gotten through the thick lowland scrub of Naka-Dake we had a better view of nearby Mt Takachiho. It was on this mountain, as legend has it, that the fire god, Niniginomikoto made his fabled descent to earth. His descent is still celebrated at shrines in the area, and the raised platform and stairway of a shrine he is said to have built at the foot of the mountain is still visible to this day.
It was windy at the top of Naka-Dake but the air was clear and our position lent some fine views of the surrounding countryside. To the south, beyond Takachiho, the rolling hills and sharp peaks of the Kirishima range reach all the way to Kinko Bay and the smoking cone of Sakurajima; to the north, lay our planned route along a chain of volcanic peaks and craters ending with Mount Karakuni, the largest in the range.
As we follow the rocky trail to the next peak, Shimnoe-Dake, passing through the yellow mountain grasses, we begin to notice a rotten egg smell in the air, gaining strength as we continue. Soon we arrive at the source of the smelly gas – a crater, several hundred metres in diameter and around 100 deep with a greeny-blue pool of water at the bottom. Initially, I am winded at the site of this deep, stinking pit. I had not expected the earth to simply give way in such an extreme manner, at such a sharp angle. The sides of the crater consisted of grey, volcanic rock; closer to the pool the rock became finer with an ash-like consistency. The crater was very much active and produced thin columns of smoke which rose from various spots around the pool, quickly fading as it encountered the erratic wind. Shinmoe-Dake, as we later learned, is often the cause of the parks closure to hikers due to it’s emission of toxic gasses.
Setting off again, we followed the trail around the rim of the crater and then dipped as we descended the northern face of the mountain. Halfway down, we encountered a large group of elderly hikers. We stopped and let them pass. They seemed in terrific shape; they carried hiking poles and were fitted out in the latest and brightest outdoor apparel. Throughout my travels in Japan, the sight of large groups of elderly Japanese hikers was not uncommon. In fact, most hikers I saw were of a retiring age. This, I thought, must be their reward. After years of putting in 12 hour days as salary men in auto companies or as tireless bureaucrats they were finally free to enjoy the wonders of Japan’s natural environment.
After making our next ascent, Shishiko-Dake, we descended into dense thickets of flowerless azalea shrubs and then, as we approached the foot of our final climb, Mt Karakuni, passed through a forest of bamboo. Karakuni, at over 1700 metres, is the highest in the range and towered ominously over us as we began the climb. The bamboo began to encroach greedily upon us and the trail became boggy, slowing our progress significantly. We had been hiking for four hours now and were both starting to tire.
As we neared the summit of Karakuni dark clouds materialized from the north and the wind picked up an icy edge; our breath became visible in the fading light. At the top of Karakuni we were again taken aback: another gaping crater. The wind was strong and I approached the edge with caution, taking the last few feet on my hands and knees. This crater differed from the first in that it was much deeper and dropped at a more extreme angle, almost canyon-like. I noticed icicles forming on the plants that clung to the edge of the escarpment.
The view from the summit of Mount Karakuni is exhilarating. The chain of volcanoes stretches southwards and, having spent the day climbing them, you appreciate the view even more. Looking back towards Takachiho, the mountain looked so far away and even the massive crater of Shinmoe-Dake looked puzzlingly distant. There were more craters to the east and west; there were sparkling blue caldera lakes; and rising from numerous points around the park were thick plumes of steamy sulfurous gas. It is a wonderful feeling, a mix of relief and accomplishment, to climb four mountains in one day and then, getting to the top of the final one, seeing how far you’ve come.
We made the descent of Karakuni on shaky legs and it was dark by the time we checked into our ryokan (Japanese inn) in the small township of Ebino Kogen. Unfortunately, for us, the kitchen was closed for the night and only an abbreviated meal was available. After eating our fill of soup and rice balls we dressed in our traditional Japanese bath gowns and walked down the tatami matted hallway to the onsen. The baths were single-sex so we separated at the entrance.
It was my very first onsen experience and I was not looking forward to bathing naked with strangers. Fortunately, though, the bath was unoccupied, so I had it all to myself. With just a small towel I made the dip. It was a sublime experience, the perfect antidote to aching muscles and windblown skin. I soaked for almost an hour, allowing my body to wallow in the super hot mineral water.
We awoke the next morning to the sight of deer grazing in the yard outside our window. We dressed and walked out to the dining room where a traditional Japanese breakfast had been laid out. There was fish, miso soup, pickled radish, rice, green tea and a small burner to fry an egg. It was a fulfilling meal and we ate it in the warm morning light, watching the deer wander freely, grazing in the grounds.
On the way back to Kagoshima City we decided to stop in at the Iwasaki Hotel, a famous onsen resort. The baths here were of a green-yellow colour and smelt strongly of sulfur. Emboldened by my first onsen experience I had no problem stripping and taking a bath amongst other naked men. The Iwasaki onsen features an elaborate complex of baths – some outside, others indoors; some scorching hot, others merely warm. The first few I tried were far too hot but I eventually found one to my liking and lazed there until my half-hour was up. My body sufficiently onsened, I walked out to meet my girlfriend at the bus stop where we stood in the warm sun, joking about the sulfurous smell our skin had taken on.
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