As per the title, it rained today. And by rain, I mean torrential. I can’t think of another time when i’ve been under so much of it, and I guess I paid for not being more aware of this Japanese seasonal oddity. For my last day in Fukuoka, I can’t say there was much more on my list I had to see. Yet, there were a couple of things that remained, and the rain only added a more magical and surreal feeling to where I went.
Following on from last night’s conclusion, I did go out in town to experience a bit of the nightlife – the banks of the Naka river, lined with their characteristic yatai (food stalls) glowed with a homely feel in the darkness below the neon lights of the Nakasu district. Heaving with people and the thick smell of pork broth, a Tonkotsu ramen was in order. Accompanied with chicken heart yakitori skewers. And a beer (of course). Although surprisingly, this turned out to be one of my more expensive meals yet, it was hard to fault the deliciousness of my dinner. Youtube channels and tripadvisor had strongly recommended these places as unique social places, and had warned about the touristy price of food here, it felt good to tick off one of Fukuoka’s most iconic things to experience before I left. I can’t say that it was as social as was sold to me, as the constant turnover of people meant it was quite difficult to strike up a conversation, besides the fact that everyone I try to talk to only wants to practice their English, making conversation quite clunky as I desperately try to force them to speak Japanese to me.
That aside, I wound up in quite a nice bar, filled with businessmen and businesswomen getting their drinks for the evening. I paid 500 Yen for a glass of sake (my first), and to describe it concisely: strong, fruity, and ice cold. Although I did wake up with an unfamiliar feeling in my stomach and many bizarre dreams. Maybe I can’t stomach it, who knows. At least now though, I will know what sake is like.
As I mentioned, I woke up to rainfall like I’d never believed was possible. I still got on the train to Nanzōin, about 20 minutes east. This is a tiny little town, at its centre in the hills of cedar trees a giant reclining bronze Buddha, said to be the largest bronze statue in the world. Less spectacularly however, and quite amusingly, is that it was built in 1995 by a monk who apparently won the lottery. But this in no way takes away from the sheer scale and awe-inspiring statue. Perhaps it doesn’t quite have that more venerable quality as the Nara Buddha does, but the size is enough to impress any visitor. And under the pouring rain, his serene smile seemed to mock me as I stood under my pathetic Seven-Eleven umbrella in my soaked Reeboks taking photos on my blurry iPhone.
The rest of the temple complex is buried deep in the forest, through steep winding stone paths lined with torii gates and incense altars. The warm smell of incense and damp earth drowned out the rivers of rainwater that cascaded over the path, but the climb was worth it perhaps not for the very small shrine, but for the backdrop of looming cedars in the light of storm clouds. And being completely alone apart from a couple of distressed hornets who had made their home in the shrine, perfectly quiet calmness fills one up in this tiny, lost little place.
I wanted to stop in the Sasaguri forest on the way back, where there was supposed one of the most picturesque walks and forest in all of Kyūshu, but as you can imagine, the weather and my socks had other ideas.
I found myself once again in Tenjin station, somewhat with a pleasant feeling of closure and yet with a comfortable feeling that there was more for me here to discover. My day couldn’t have felt any more spiritual if the landlady hadn’t offered me some fried chicken and a glass of beer as she ate with her family beside me in the hostel.
It’s been a great first stop in my Japanese journey. Tomorrow, Nagasaki calls.
Humanposting 