Shrine hopping

This morning, while we were waiting for the bus that would take us to Shingū, the first of our shrine stops, Marty, a tall, affable American who had just finished the Kumano Kodo with his wife, asked us if we were going to “the falls’.   He was referring to the Nachi Falls near the Nachi Grand Shrine, the second on our list for the day.  Well, yes, we were going to the falls along with apparently a lot of other people who squeezed onto the jam packed bus.  But first we had to visit the Hayatama Taisha Grand Shrine in Shingū.  We had a lot of bowing and clapping to do after our four day hike.  

Marty had fallen twice while trekking the Kumano Kodo, so we compared our missteps.  He blamed it on irregular stony stairs and his big feet.  He was wearing Hokas the size of gunboats.  I blamed it on the rain.  Later he mentioned that he was 71.  They should have a warning sign for septuagenarians at the beginning of the trail.  Something like the sign I saw next to some stairs at the Nachi Grand Shrine.

In Shingū it was only a two-minute walk to the orange gate leading to the Hayatama Taisha Grand Shrine.

All the buildings, railings, pillars, and posts were bright orange. (Ella says orangish red so we’ll split the difference.)  Having grown up in an America where orange was the sign of a Howard Johnson’s restaurant, it was hard for me to feel the sanctity of the Grand Shrine’s color scheme.  If it hadn’t been for deep boom of the big Taiko drum solemnly interrupting the pervading quiet of the peaceful grounds, I would have expected it all to be part of an ad campaign.   But instead a white robed Shinto priest was saying prayers inside the main shrine anchoring the white gravel square.  Behind the orange wooden fence where a line of shimenawa purification ropes were hanging a priest was sweeping the ground with a straw broom, slowly, painstakingly, relentlessly.  Standing in the square, it was easy to get lulled by the ritualistic motion.

From Shingū we got on another bus to get to the Nachi Grand Shrine and the Nachi Falls.  When the bus stopped at the station we were quick to wedge our way on.  Japanese, unlike the French, don’t show much concern whether you’re elderly or not.  No one’s about to give up their seat if they see you hobble on.

Near the top of another mountain we squeezed off the bus in a parking lot which gave us a choice to go right down some stone steps to the falls, or go left up some stone stairs to the shrine.  Shrine first.  Before heading up the groin-stretching stairs, an American coming down told us that we could continue to follow the road to our left which, although it was a longer walk, also led up to the shrine.  But hey, we were Kodo completers and our legs, not having hiked miles, had some spring left so we opted for the climb.  

At the top, where the stairs on the road converged, there was a three-story pagoda Shinto shrine.  We went in and on the third level (we took the elevator!) we admired a great view of the mountain valley with cherry blossoms foregrounding the falls in the background.

Further up the road up some more stairs there was the Kumano Nachi Taisha Grand Shrine.

Ella went in and I hung around the lookout lot in front of the shrine taking in the mountain cherry blossom vista.  

After I had taken a full cell phone shot documentation of the site Ella still had not come out from the shrine, so I passed the incense burning caldron out front and entered. 

Inside it looked like some sort of sacred gift shop.  I didn’t see Ella, so I figured she must be farther in the shrine towards where the altar would be.  I followed the red carpet leading past the gift counters and a host of dark robed men cried out waving their arms.  I was treading into the worship zone and Ella was at the other end of the shop examining amulets.  Time for me to go outside and commune with the happy Buddha.

And then we went down to the falls.  There was an observation platform where people could pay to pray as the waters fell.

We took another bus back to Kii-Katsuura and walked to the port where we took a water taxi to our resort hotel.  The hotel had onsens inside caves that opened out onto the ocean, so we quickly changed into yukatas and headed downstairs from our sixth-floor room to the baths.  (Ella has described the bathing protocol in a previous post.  It’s interesting.  In the men’s area there were free razors for shaving which I took advantage of.  I didn’t sit on the stool provided to rinse before bathing.  I wasn’t allowed to take any pictures, but trust me, they are some of the smallest stools I have ever seen.  Real squatters.  When I took my shower before going into the baths, I stood.)  Stepping into the warm onsen water of the bath I waded over to the opening of the cave where I sat neck deep and watched the frothy waves break against the scattered boulders of the shore and spray against the opening of the cave providing a cool spritz to my head and shoulders.

I was fortunate in making it to the onsen cave before it got crowded and for a time I had the seaside bath to myself and meditatively observed the churning waves slapping at the foot of the forested cliff next to the eight floor resort hotel.  Back in our room we found extra futons rolled up in the closet so we doubled our allotted bedding.  That along with another buckwheat pillow made for a splendid sleep.