Matsushima

The time difference between the UK and Japan is eight or nine hours depending on British Summertime. The upshot being that in order to call at a sensible time I had to get up at 6AM which worked out fine for most of my trip but in the hostel in Sendai I was confronted with a problem.

One of the many rules of the hostel was about the door not opening until that certain time that the proprietor could be bothered to get up. But just as the air-conditioners in each room were only for show, so was the front door. Once I worked out that it was just like the shower doors back at the hostel, I found the little slidey catch and won my freedom.

It was my Matsushima day, the first of the Nihon Sankei - Japan’s three great sights. My guide book describes Matsushima as, “250 islands covered in pines that have been moulded by the wind and misshapen by the ceaseless slapping of waves.” The other sights are a spit of land that goes out to the sea that you are supposed to view between your legs because the sea looks like the sky. The final sight is… somewhere else on my list that I’ll go on about in due course.

One reason Sendai is a popular destination for tourists in Japan is because it is so close to Matsushima, just a 30 minute train ride to Matsushima-kaigan station.

When you arrive you walk straight out of the train station and follow the other tourists over a road, past some shops, through a small park and then to the edge of the sea where you get your first glimpse of the islands of Matsushima.


The smallest are just large rocks with a few trees but they vary in size with some being explorable, and boat trips for tourists weave between the most interesting.

Everyone else turned left so I turned right and walked parallel to the water’s edge. The path narrowed to go around a mini cliff and then I came upon an ornate red bridge connecting the main land to one of the islands.


The whole sight of it: so perfectly fitted to its function yet so beautifully made and with the calm sound of the water against the land and nobody about. I was getting a sense of why Matsushima is so special.

I crossed the bridge.


It only took a few minutes to walk around the island, but I took it slowly, appreciating the serenity of the place and the different views it provided.

Then I started to notice small statues of the Buddha hidden among the trees or standing along the pathways. Some of them had been weathered so that their faces no longer had features, like in the quiet of Matsushima they had removed their human masks to reveal alien faces. I was too unnerved to take a picture.

For some reason there was a foreboding tunnel through the rock leading back to the bridge, it was like a test.


Once through the tunnel I looked back and saw more faceless statues carved into the rock face.


Back on the main land I kept walking in my rebellious direction and ended up on a marshy beach which gave another view of the bridge. You can see the shrine too.


The beach wasn’t going anywhere interesting so I turned back and walked through the park again. A little further along was a strange shaped island with a large shrine.


I was struck by the right hand side of the island because to me the rock and the trees were curving like a wave towards the water.



But once on the island I was more interested in the view of the seagulls on a nearby jetty. I liked the way they were all looking in the same direction as if betting on which boat would come back first.


Further along the shore was an enormous bridge


leading to an enormous island, so big that you had to buy a ticket.

There were a few other tourists on the island but were enough pathways that we only saw each other at random intersections. I liked the quiet peaceful nature of the place, it was all around and not only to be found on rocks in rivers like Sendai.

That was until I walked down a smaller path and got cobwebs on my face.

I don’t like spiders but thankfully the trees obscured me as I danced around panic stricken and brushing the invisible creatures off my legs and arms. I stuck to the larger paths after that.

There seemed to be lots of nesting couples, nesting on benches with their arms around each other. One couple watched me as I scrambled down to a jetty that I thought would make a good picture.


You know those posters you often find in doctor’s waiting rooms, of a jetty going out to a really peaceful lake with mountains in the background. That’s what I wanted to get.

But it really didn’t work.

I tried to get the picture to be straight: get the jetty and sea parallel to each other. But then I realised that they weren’t parallel, the jetty was uneven. But I took another picture anyway.


On the other side of the island, another view.


When I was nearing my circumnavigation of the island I went down some steps and came to a large stretch of grassland, bigger than I thought the whole island was.


It was amazing, like stepping into an oasis or a hallucination. And it was so pretty with flowers and picnic benches. It reminded me of that bit in The Land Before Time when the little dinosaurs climb up the big mountain, get to the summit and see before them the magical fertile land they had been hoping for. Come to think of it I may have just spoilt the end of that film.

A little further on and I was back to the bridge. On the way across it I took this picture of a boat against the edge of the island.


And this one of a seagull sitting on the bridge.


From there I headed to Oku-Matsushima because my guidebook said, “natural beauty is the order of the day here. Sagakei is a 40m-high scenic canyon overhanging the Pacific ocean. Otakamori is a small hill offering a terrific panorama.” It told me to go to Nobiru station, six stops from where I was.

However, once you leave Nobiru station the adventurous music stops playing in your head and you realise that you are in the middle of nowhere. Over a bridge and you find yourself walking down a road through a forest of pine trees that leads to the beach. The pine tree forest is quite beautiful, it would make a great location for a film about being chased by a time travelling samurai.

The beach is a big empty bay of sand and rock, or at least it was when I was there. I found a sign pointing me in the direction of Oku-Matsushima but it gave me one detail that my guidebook hadn’t bothered to mention: 5KM.

“Gah,” said Left Brain.
“So what?” said Right Brain.
“That’s really far, that’s like…”
“3 miles,” added the Parietal Cortex.
“So, we can walk that. It’s not too dark, we’re young and bipedal,” said Right Brain.
“I don’t know,” said Left Brain cautiously.
“Oh come on,” pleaded Right Brain.
“You can go, I’ll just stay here,” suggested Left Brain.
“I don‘t like that idea,” Corpus Striatum interjected nervously.
“While you’ve been arguing we’ve already been walking for a minute,” The Feet cheekily pointed out.
“So much for hierarchical processing,” said the Bowel.

I walked through the pines until the path ran out. I walked along the road until the pavement started. I walked along the pavement past a large youth hostel. I walked past a lake and took a picture


I walked past a field of sunflowers and then the road widened. There was water on both sides and large cliff faces sealing it in. A boating lake was on the left and a shop was still open. I bought some water and carried on.

There had been no signs for quite a while but I kept going. The road started to curve around the cliff faces: the canyon my guidebook had described. Some wooden walkways looked promisingly like they might lead up to a viewing spot. But they just led over the marshy ground and back on the road. A man with a small digger was tending to the plants and gave me a strange look that I tried to ignore.

I was getting tired and the day was getting late. Then I came to a pathway leading up the hill with a sign next to it, but it wasn’t the right path. I thought about cutting my loses and going up that one but I kept going.

The road became a bridge and the lake became a harbour. Then fields appeared on the left with farmers pulling the plants from the soil. A bonfire was going at the top of the field, the smell of smoke was thick in the air. That was when I found it, the entrance.

I was very close to my destination now, except that it was above me. The light was fading quickly and I raced up the pathway, jogging over the loose stones between the trees. There was a random shrine tucked into the trees on the right hand side, but I had no time for it. I kept going and then AHHHH

Another cobweb, another panicky dance.

I walked after that, with a stick outstretched to break any webs. There were a few stretched over the path, some occupied, some not. I destroyed them as I went.

At a fork in the road there were two signs. Both had the same destination but different numbers of metres. I took the shortcut, the path was narrower and less trodden and eventually I came to an enormous spider in an enormous web.

The web was a triangle with about 3 metres on each side, it was clearly built to catch humans. I wasn’t sure where to start attacking it with my stick. Then I noticed a small gap in the web that I could duck through. I measured it carefully, bent over and stepped through.

Doing the panicky dance again I spun around to check the spider was still in its web and so not on my face. It was hanging in its layer, undisturbed by my tiny, insignificant presence.

Pantingly running I emerged back onto the main path and could see the summit in sight. A man appeared at the same time, also panting but walking steadily with a large camera around his neck and a wife trailing behind.

At the summit was this.


And this.


And this.


And I knew it had been worth it.


The wife rejoined her husband and they stood together staring out at the vista while he snapped pictures. I left before them, conscious of the long walk back.

I took the shortcut, ducked under the spider’s web again and took this picture.


Disappointingly neither the web or spider is visible, but trust me they were massive.

Nearly back to the road I left my trusty spider stick at the side of the shrine, as a sign of appreciation and respect on our parting. Perhaps someone will find it lying at the shrine and wonder about is story. Perhaps not.

Near the harbour I couldn’t resist having another crack at the jetty picture but it came out very dark indeed.


I decided to listen to some music on my MP3 player: Groove Armada, that CD the Guardian gave away years ago that I had ripped. The original CD was at my parents home in the cupboard next to the TV, but its songs were with me in the fading light on my walk back to Nobiru

There were no street lights on the road, and the man I had seen earlier was packing away, he might have said something to me as I walked past him but I couldn’t hear him. I tried to smile reassuringly at him that I knew where I was going.

It was a long walk but eventually I made it to a comfortable train seat that took me back to my hostel, and my last (snore free) night in Sendai.