The dragons of Nikko

I’m taking advantage of a three-day weekend to visit Nikko, a natural and cultural heritage town north of Tokyo.

The town has around 80,000 inhabitants and is located in Tochigi prefecture. I take the Tobu Line from Tokyo’s Kita senju station. This rail line has the advantage of being fast and economical. However, it is necessary to book your ticket in advance, which I didn’t know before my departure. So I buy my ticket from a machine in the station. There’s a fairly steady flow of departures throughout the day, which leaves you plenty of choice when it comes to timetables. The journey takes about two hours to Tobu Nikko.

When I arrive, it’s around 1 p.m. and I decide to walk to Temple Toshogu, which takes about thirty minutes from the station. The temple is located in Nikko National Park, which is home to several sanctuaries. Toshogu is the best known, but also the most touristy. This made me hesitate to go there, as I prefer to take the back roads. But the temple’s architecture seems to be well worth a visit, and that finally convinced me. Despite the large number of visitors, the place is indeed grandiose. It was built in 1617 by a lord of the time and is now a part of the World Heritage List as an important sacred site.

One place in particular caught my eye. It’s the Nakiryu, a huge fresco painted on the temple ceiling depicting a dragon. A monk gives us a curious demonstration. Striking two pieces of wood under the dragon’s head creates a particular echo thanks to the vaulted shape of the ceiling. This contributes to the sacredness of the place and has given the fresco its name, the voice of the dragon. Dragons are to be found everywhere in the park. Sculptures, paintings, fountains, lucky charms, waterfalls and more. They are a symbol of strength and prosperity. As the new year is under this sign, I decided to make a wish. May the Year of the Dragon be an auspicious one!

Food stalls line a large alleyway at the entrance to the park. It’s easy to find something to eat, whether sweet or savory.

On the second day, I go to a place called Kanmangafuchi. It’s a small valley alongside a stream where you can take a walk. Jizo trees line the path. The statuettes lined up represent a bodhisattva who protects children and travellers and can guide souls into the next world. The red cap and bib are a sign of protection for children who died at an early age. Myth has it that their souls would build towers out of stones for their living parents. But demons would come at night and destroy their work. So passers-by pile up stones to help protect the children’s souls from the demons.

In Japan, jizo are very common at crossroads. They are the link between the profane and the sacred, and their hand-made garments are a way for the donor to interact with the bodhisattva. Jizo have a close relationship with lonely souls, protecting them (abandoned graves, stillborn babies, abortions, etc.).

I’m alone on the path, which is quite a change from the previous day’s tourist crowds. The weather is cold and dry. So I plan to continue my walk to the Nikkowanoshiro onsen to enjoy the hot baths. I’ll never tire of enjoying the rotemburo, outdoor pools often embellished with rocks and a view of the surrounding nature. As I relax in the hot water, my eyes rest on the mountain peak I plan to climb the next day.

On the way back, I make a detour to a second Nikko temple, less touristy than the first but with a singular charm.

I’m pleased to note that it snowed overnight! So off I go, bundled up and boots on, for a hike of some twenty kilometers. I take a bus a few steps from my hotel, heading for Lake Chuzenji, about 40 minutes from my starting point. The Tobu company regularly serves the various tourist attractions in the Nikko region.

When I arrived, the cold was intense and the wind biting. The thermometer showed minus ten degrees. Fortunately, the weather seems to be clearing. I skirt the lake before setting off to climb Mount Hangetsu, 1723 meters high. The trail becomes quite arduous and I realize that crampons and poles would have been very useful. But the effort is rewarded by superb views of the surrounding mountains. I only come across one hiker and a few deer. As for the bears, they must be sleeping soundly. Only the sound of the wind in the trees accompanies me. The snow isn’t deep, but the gusts of wind on the ridges have camouflaged a few holes that are knee-deep in powder. Hiking mountain trails in Japan in summer is not easy enough, but it requires a lot of concentration in winter. Fortunately, the trail is marked by red markers or small banners hanging from branches. Ropes line the complicated sections. I rarely use them in fine weather, but this time they come in very handy!

As I approach my arrival point, I realize that the cable car I’m supposed to reach is exceptionally closed and no access is available down the ridge. I’m a little disconcerted and decide to retrace my steps to reach an intersection I’d seen earlier. The path is not marked on any map, but it is signposted and seems to join the valley below. I decide to take it, fearing I’d end up hiking in the dark on slippery ground if I turned back to reach the nearest road. Even so, it’s only a few kilometers away. Night doesn’t arrive for another two hours, but I know that darkness can set in quickly in the mountains. I push on, but my GPS confirms that I’m on the right track. I’m relieved to find a road that will take me back to my starting point. This little adventure has had the advantage of introducing me to an itinerary that’s a bit of a secret, but ultimately very useful. It will be added to my map for future hikes.

After a muffin and a matcha tea in a café, I make my way to my bus stop to get off at Nikko station and head back to Tokyo.