Operation Explore Gifu: Inuyama

Hakutei-Jo, the White Emperor Castle. With less than six months to go here in Japan, and a rather willing amiga de viaje, I've been trying to make the most of my weekends by exploring something other than Kyoto: Gifu, my home for the past three years.

Standing proudly on a small hill 40 meters above the banks of the Kiso River, Japan's oldest original wooden castle keeps watch over the now concrete-covered plains and slowly rising mountains to the north. Below, hidden in the Urakuen tea garden (so well so that we did not find it), is the Joan tea house, considered one of the finest of its kind (which, for some reason, was brought from Kyoto in the 70's). Bushido, the way of the warrior, and Sado, the way of tea, have always existed side by side. The great warrior Toyotomi Hideoshi, who unified Japan and brought an end to the warring states period, once said that a fine tea cup was worth more than his castle and all its men. Of course, he also forced his loyal retainer tea master to commit suicide. Luckily we don't have to choose the castle over the cup, or commit seppuku if we never find the teahouse. With a little planning and a few directibles (also known as directions to those who speak proper English) we can have our matcha and drink it too, with time left over to savor the soba.

I should start by saying that, I have been extremely spoiled. The first Japanese castle I ever laid eyes on was Himeji, the king of Japanese castles. Once you see Himeji, everything else is just kind of, well, maa-maa. What remains of Inuyama castle is small, as are the castle grounds, but a slow and slipperless climb up the steep, unequally spaced steps is well worth it!

Key word being "slipperless".

Gifu: A River Runs Through It. The Kiso River, that is. From the wrap-around balcony of the main tower, you can see it cut gracefully through the concrete covered plain as it makes its way to Ena (as seen in the picture of my beautiful mountain school: top right, under the page header).

Abbey Sensei braces herself for the brutal winds from atop the tower. Fly away Abbey! Be free!

Brilliant red torii (shinto's spiritual gateways) and crimson banners line the entrance to a small inari shrine at the foot of the castle.

Ema (from e:絵 meaning picture, and uma:馬, meaning horse) are small, colorfully decorated, wooden prayer plaques sold at shinto shrines for about 500 yen. After writing their wishes and prayers on the back, people hang them on racks in hopes that the kami (gods) will read them and grant their blessing. The pictures on the ema also have meaning. These were bought by junior high school students hoping for good scores on their high school entrance exams.

Happy Chinese New Year everyone! Inoshishi: The Wild boar.

Road Trip: Matsumoto or Bust!

Matsumoto Castle, also known as the Black Crow for its black walls and roofs spread out like wings, is one of the four castles Japan has listed as a National Treasure. Construction of the castle, as it appears today, began in the 1580's. The Donjon, or keep, is the second oldest survivng castle structure in Japan, built in 1593. The stones that form the foundation were taken from nearby mountains and carefully piled up by crossing their longer and shorter sides. No mortar was used between the stones. This process is know as Nozura-sumi.

In a weak attempt to break our winter weekend routine (which consists of sitting directly in front of a heater or under a kotatsu)the world famous Profesora of Abbey in Ena fame and I decided to take a roadtrip up to Matsumoto Castle in neighboring Nagano. Unlike a previously attempted roadtrip in which we never actually arrived at our agreed upon destination (thanks to some outdated Japanese road signage and a Jurassic Park-like road barrier) we found our way through the beautiful, increasingly cold and snowy mountain scenery along the Gifu-Nagano border, sharing an Ipod and singing along to the likes of A Tribe Called Quest, Yui, WuTangClan, Bump Of Chicken, and Shakira.

Home-made roadtrip-commemorative purikkura!

Nestled in the snow-capped peaks of the Southern Alps, Matsumoto castle would have a stunning backdrop if not for all the cell phone towers, pachinko parlors and concrete that seem to have it under seige. Although it's flat-land position seems strategically weak, whatever the "black crow" castle lacks in defensive strength, it makes up for in aesthetics: unique black walls, gracefully upturned roof tips, and a classically curved, crimson bridge leading over a reflective moat. It's hard to believe that shortly after the Meiji Restoration of 1868, the new Japanese government was so desperate for cash that it decided to demolish the castle to sell any timber or iron fittings they could salvage as scrap. Sadly, many other castles met this fate, being too high maintenance with no modern military value. Luckily, a local buisnessman named Ichikawa Ryozo rescued Matsumoto Castle, helping local citizens to purchased the castle in 1878.

Who is that hooded slurper? What excellent chopstick form!

After struggling to survive the climb up and the steep, irregularly spaced stairs in dangerously slippery, over-sized slippers, were rewarded with beautiful blue skies for a few post-soba slurpping pictures. Did I mention that there's an excellent soba shop convieniently located near the castle entrance? The kitsune soba is meccha umai (crazy good!), and the hot soba cha (tea) helped speed along the thawing process after nearly freezing in the frigid interior of the castle. You can read more about our little adventure at The World or Bust.

Golden Week II : The Adventures Continue

Day 2: Himeiji

Our second day of fun-filled Japanification found us wandering ‘Hime no Michi’, the Princess’ Road, from which the name Himeji is derived. Himeji-jo (Castle) is one of my favorite places in Japan, so I counldnt wait for and excuse to go back! Thankfully it was on Vicki`s list!

Gracefully rising above the city like a white heron about to take flight, it is often called Shirasagijo, or White Heron Castle. Like all Japanese Castles, it was built entirely of wood (360 tons of it), so the white plaster that covers its walls serves to protect it from fire. Amazingly, it has never known nither fire nor battle in all its centuries of existence. It is the finest surviving example of Japanese Castle architecture, dating back to the 17th century and including 83 structures, all with highly developed, ingenious systems from the dawn of the Shogunate.



In 1601, the son-in-law of Tokugawa Ieyasu (then ruler of Japan) began building the castle, which took nine years to complete. The architects of Himeji employed contemporary castle technology to make Himeji practically impenetrable. Its labyrinth of gates and spiraling baileys were designed to confuse enemy soldiers. Entering the main gate, the closer you get to the main tower, the farther away it appears. Even today, with the tourist routes clearly marked, many visitors get lost. Of course that does not apply to Vicki and I!

Fifteen-meter sloping stone walls made it impossible for an approaching enemy to view the castle its from the base, and wandering passages were intended to confuse enemies unfamiliar with the castle's layout. All 84 gates are heavily fortified by wood and stone, and small enough to make moving many men through at one time difficult. Openings (ishiotoshi) in the walls of the main complex allowed those within the castle to throw stones and scalding water or hot oil on their attackers, while rifles and arrows could be shot thru other holes (sama).

The castle was built for war, but its beauty is undeniable.

The integration of nature and technology in Himeji Castle created a physical and psychological barrier designed to confuse and exhaust an enemy, but it is that same design that intrigues and enchants me. How could something so beautiful, built in perfect harmony with its natural surroundings, be used for war?

Can you spot the Gaijin?