Temple #32

Chichibu is in a river valley, surrounded by impressive mountains. Very much like the Blue mountains, except the people live in the valley, not on the tops. The tops are too pointy, and as Ive said before, the forest tends to eat anything that stands still. There are 34 temples dedicated to Kannon (Quan Yin in Chinese), the god/ess of compassion, dotted in and around Chichibu, and Number 32 is one of the most beautiful. This is (IMHO) directly related to it being one of the most remote and hard to get to.

So it was on the bike, in search of. I'd visited once before with Megumi and some of the shakuhachi crew (photo at right), so I knew where it was. Kind of. First attempt saw me ride off somewhere completely different.

A lovely ride, but no temple.


Another day, another attempt - but this time, I had a map. The aim was to be up there mid afternoon, and stay for sunset.

The Love Bike has undergone extensive modification during my time here, from innocent little commuter cycle, to hardcore child-eating monster. Note the chunky downhill mountain bike cranks, sporting a very creative chainring setup. The big ring is in the middle position, but using the original middle chainring (and some extra washers) as a spacer to try and achieve the correct offset. Vaaaast improvement. longer cranks now mean much more cranking power, and the bigger chainring means a serious top speed boost. A new seat, and decent brakes also help. Not shown in this photo are the in-wheel coloured light effect units it now sports.

All this adds up to the bike being much more fun to ride, especially in the mountains. So, off to Temple #32, Hōshō-ji. It was on the other side of a pretty serious ridge, and the new bike setup really proved itself on the climb. The downhill run on the other side was a hoot! I did take note as I whizzed down, that the amount of fun I was having would be directly proportional to the amount of effort required to return home...

So, I duly arrived at Hōshō-ji, chained up the bike where it wouldnt bite passers by, and headed up.


The temple itself is on the side of a mountain, in a number of parts. The main hall is not far up from the entrance. From there you follow the gulley up to a smaller temple, tucked partly into a rock overhang. The wood on the floor and beams was polished smooth from years of use. Very beautiful, secluded and peaceful.

On the path just underneath this building was the first of my three favourite statues in Japan.




From here, the path winds up a gulley, through dense forest - it felt very much like some walks in the Blue Mountains. It goes up a long way, and eventually you pop out onto a large rocky outcrop, right up on top of the mountain, with spectacular panoramic views of densely forested mountains and valleys, with bits of town visible off in the distance.

The path forks here, and I took the upward fork first. This path leads to a near vertical cliff face, with stone footholds chiselled in, and a chain dangling down from somewhere above.

On top, you find youself in the company of a life size bronze buddha, tucked into a tiny cave right on the very top of the mountain. It looks like its been there for a long time. Since before helicopters and airlifting anyway. Gives one food for thought. This is the second of my three favourite statues.We had lunch together on top of the mountain, and I played a bit of shakuhachi. No complaints from my lunch partner, so I guess it wasn't too bad. He seemed to be into collecting beads, mobile phone danglies and other interesting bits and pieces, so I made a teeny paper crane from the foil wrapping of a biscuit I had with me, and attached it to the bundle.

The only other person I met since leaving the main temple down below was a Japanese pilgrim, doing his circuit of the 34 temples (this is usually done over a period of weeks, in stages). He was rather surprised to find me sitting up on top having lunch with my friend, but didnt seem to mind.

Down the chain, and back to the junction. It was getting pretty close to sunset by the time I got to where I was going, which was the prow of section of cliff that jutted right out over the valley. I played some more shakuhachi, a piece called San-ya (Three Valleys), which seemed appropriate, and which echoed nicely off down the valley.


I wasnt entirely alone though - I was in the company of the third of my favourite statues, some images of which I managed to capture, right on sunset...