The Ueno Tosho-gu Shrine, located in Ueno Park within Teito Ward in Tokyo, can be said to be a perfect example of Shinto architecture pertaining to the Edo period (1603 – 1868). The shrine was originally built in 1627 and renovated in 1651, remaining mostly intact from that time. Remarkably, it survived through the Battle of Ueno (1868), the Great Kanto Earthquake (1923) and the Tokyo firebombing (1945).
All Shinto shrines enshrining Tokugawa Ieyasu, the founder of the last Shogunal government (1600 – 1868), are generally called ‘Tosho-gu’, literally translating to ‘the God of the Eastern Sun’. These are found throughout Japan. The Ueno Tosho-gu Shrine in particular also enshrines two other Tokugawa shoguns as well.
As one approaches this Shrine, the path is lined on both sides with impressive stone lanterns. Each lantern is 2-meters high. These were all built between 1628 and 1651. As one walks on, after encountering the stone lanterns at the gate, one also finds intricate copper lanterns nearer to the shrine building itself. There are 50 copper lanterns in all. These are not used for illumination, but are used solely for purification and sacred fires required during religious ceremonies. The copper lanterns were all offerings made by the various Daimyos – feudal lords who were the vassals of the shogun and who had an obligation to honor the memory of the first Tokugawa shogun. Each lantern is engraved at its base with the family name of the Daimyo who donated it.
Next to the main shrine building, one comes across the usual shrine/temple emas. These votive picture wooden tablets are vessels on which people write their wishes and are found in every Shinto shrine and temple. Dedicating an ema is easy:
the ema from the shrine souvenir store (at a small fee)
your wish, name and address on the back (pens are usually provided)
your ema near the dedication area
If your wish is strong enough, the kami (the god) will surely hear it.
As one walks to the Shrine, one also can freely admire the towering 36-meter high five-storied pagoda, which is situated on what are today the grounds of Ueno Zoo. Tosho-gu Shrine itself was originally part of a larger Buddhist temple complex. In 1868, many of the Buddhist Temple buildings were destroyed in a fire. Since historically, Shinto and Buddhist religious beliefs were often mixed, it was not unusual for a Shinto Shrine to be situated within a Buddhist Temple complex and vice-versa. Once the Buddhist Temple complex was mostly destroyed however, the Ueno Tosho-gu Shrine was more clearly divided from the rest of Ueno Park.
Undoubtedly, the karaman is the most statuesque building in the shrine. With its golden curved gable and huge gate, it is designated as an Important Cultural Property and dominates the foreground. The pillars of the gate sport two carved dragons. Legend states that each night, the dragons leave the shrine and go to the nearby Shinabazu Pond to drink. The carvings on the gate and wall of the karaman are said to depict over 200 species of plants and animals, and are all hand-carved.
The main building of the shrine is the honden, that is the Main Hall. This contains the haiden, that is, the Worship Hall, as well as the heiden, or Offertory Hall. This building too is an Important Cultural Property.
There is a 500 yen admission fee to go beyond the karamon and get closer to the honden, as well as an extra 700 yen admission fee to enter the famous peony gardens. These are open from January to mid-February and from mid-April to mid-May. Unfortunately, we visited in June, so access was not possible.
Although not as popular as the
Nikko Tosho-gu Shrine, Ueno Tosho-gu Shrine is definitely a gem not to be missed.
Ueno Tosho-gu Shrine is located on the west side of Ueno Park. It is an 8-minute walk from th Park exit of JR Ueno Station, a 7-minute walk from Keisei Ueno Station, 9 minutes from Ueno Subway Station on the Tokyo Metro Hibiya and Ginza lines, and 12 minutes from Nezu Station on the Tokyo Metro Chiyoda line.
Nestled amidst pine forested hills and rocky crags, Delphi, which is a UNESCO World Heritage, is an archaeological site situated 200 meters up Mount Parnassus, and is a picturesque reminder of the flowering of Greek culture at its peak. It is the second most popular cultural touristic destination on the Greek mainland, after the Acropolis. The ancient sanctuary, perched on one of the largest mountainous regions of Greece, was famous for hundreds of years as the location of the supreme oracle of the ancient Mediterranean world.
oracle or seer was
considered to be a prophet of the gods, and the oracle at Delphi in particular
was famed for being the mouthpiece through which the god Apollo made his will
known. Apollo, the Greek and Roman god of the sun, was also the god of healing,
music and prophecy, and he is tied to Delphi through a well-known legend which
maintains that he once slew a giant serpent there. The serpent was called
Python, and this is why all subsequent oracles at Delphi were called the Pythia.
I have always loved Greek mythology, and was thinking about this story, told to us at the Delphi Museum far below the ruins themselves, when I suddenly started spying the remains of statuary and broken columns at the sides of the track. These are all that are left of the hundreds of sculptures and votive statues which many pilgrims and nobles dedicated to the god Apollo. A number of ‘treasuries’, that is, small buildings which held different offerings given by various cities around Greece, were also scattered along the so-termed ‘Sacred Way’, which is the main route through the sanctuary of Apollo. The most well-known of these, and the best preserved, is the Athenian Treasury, a marble monument built between 510 and 480BC to commemorate the victory of an important battle.
Pink and yellow flowers adorned all
that remained of the original Temple of
Apollo further on up the Sacred Way. Although the temple was re-built three
times, always on the same location, only the foundation and some columns are
still to be seen today. These are supported by a platform made up of a 6th
BC polygonal wall carved with ancient inscriptions. When I am visiting such
sites I am always saddened by the thought that at the time when such marvels
were constructed, the people obviously believed they would last forever. And
yet, such a great temple, which originally boasted around 90 marble columns,
not to mention various altars and adornments, couldn’t withstand the test of
Although the temple itself was pulled down in 390AD, when the Romans destroyed all pagan temples by decree following the onset of the Christian religion, the worship of Apollo itself too had previously eradicated and toppled another religious cult which had dominated Delphi before it. This was the worship of Gaia, the mother goddess of fertility, since previous to classical Greece, Delphi had already been a place of worship and in fact traces of human settlement and religious ritual as old as the Neolithic period (4000BC) were found on Mount Parnassus.
It was in the inner sanctum of the Temple of Apollo, that the mythological Omphalos was kept. The Omphalos was an enormous ancient stone which, according to legend, the god Zeus had placed in Delphi to mark the centre of the world, which is why the Greeks considered Delphi to be so important. The marble Omphalos was called ‘the navel of the earth’, and together with the Oracle and her prophetic visions, contributed to the rise of Delphi as an important centre for religious worship, commerce and trade. This was because many important rulers, nobles, politicians and wealthy people came as pilgrims to visit the oracle, in order to consult her before making any important decisions. The process was a lengthy one. After purifying herself at a sacred spring, the prophetess would burn and drink laurel leaves, after which an animal was sacrificed to Apollo, before she would sit and meditate for hours, while inhaling the fumes coming from a fissure in the earth. It is believed that this chasm, supposedly caused when the giant snake Python was slain by the god Apollo, could have really existed, and that the noxious fumes, together with the intoxication caused by ingesting laurel leaves, could have caused hallucinatory effects.
Moving on up the steep path, I finally arrived at the Ancient Amphitheater of Delphi. Originally constructed in the 4th century BC, the theater could accommodate around 5,000 spectators on 35 rows of stone benches, as well as an orchestra. Although abandoned with the rest of the site in late antiquity, the theater was later restored due to the threat of landslides, and can today host live theatrical performances. The acoustics are still amazing, and one can admire not only the entire sanctuary from it, but also the lush valley below. Truly an awe-inspiring panorama.
If one continues to climb Mount
Parnassus, one also finds the Hippodrome
or stadium, where political leaders and athletes competed with their chariots
during the Pythian Games. These games, which occurred every four years and were
actually the pre-cursors of our modern Olympics, drew competitors and
spectators from around the Mediterranean, and were another source of income and
fame for the sanctuary of Delphi. The stadium itself was originally built in
the 5th century BC, could seat 6,500 spectators, and has a 177 metre
I must admit that at this point of
my ascent up the Mountain I was not just famished, but also totally parched. I
had not thought about bringing any food or water with me, and though it was
still April, the heat was truly unbearable. At least I had worn flat
comfortable shoes though, so that was a blessing. The only source of water I
had seen during the whole climb had been a small modern drinking fountain close
to the street near the museum, and the dubious liquid it provided hadn’t
attracted me much. So, be warned, take some provisions with you, and wear light
clothes and good shoes before you start the track.
Delphi is situated only two hours and a half by car from Athens, and there are many day-tours available from the capital itself. The modern settlement of Delphi is to be found west of the archaeological site, and is replete with taverns, hotels and accommodation for those who wish to stay overnight. Those who love hiking, not to mention bicycle enthusiasts, will surely appreciate the beautiful experience of leisurely walking or bicycling from modern Delphi to the ancient sanctuary, which is to be found only half a mile away.
Before leaving the Mountain, make
sure to walk down the slope from the museum and parking site, to the Tholos of Athena Pronaia, which is to
be found at the base of the sanctuary around a mile to the south-east of the
main complex. The Tholos is a small circular structure constructed around
380BC. Only a few columns are left of the 30 original ones, however, again, it
is well worth the effort.
If you decide to visit the sanctuary at Delphi, close your eyes and listen closely. You might hear the reverberations of bygone civilizations, the sussurration of the trees, or even the channeled voice of ancient gods… perhaps someone or something may try to talk to you.
No holiday to Scotland is complete without a visit to Loch Ness. Booking a boat trip on the Loch was, in fact, the first thing we did right after purchasing our plane tickets.
Being a lake and not a sea, Loch Ness is not susceptible to particularly rough water currents affected by wind, tides or weather conditions. Most such guided cruises operate throughout the year. I still went prepared for a chilly voyage however, bundled up in a good jacket, mufflers and gloves, since I was visiting Scotland during the month of September and could certainly imagine how nippy the air over such an extensive body of freshwater as the Loch, could be.
My aim was definitely, first and foremost, to enjoy the experience without buying any souvenirs or geegaws. However, I admit that I totally succumbed to the urge when, after we had parked near Clansman Dock, where our boat was to cast off, we visited a large nearby hotel to use the facilities. The foyer of the hotel was tantalizingly arrayed in paraphernalia relating to the Loch and its legendary monster and I couldn’t help but buy some presents for my family as well as a small Nessie soft toy for myself.
After that, we decided we were definitely not going anywhere near Drumnadrochit, which is a small village at the foot of Glen Urquhart directly next to the dock and which thrives on tourists visiting its extensive Loch Ness Centre as well as the nearby Nessieland, which is a small theme park for children.
As I queued in front of our boat waiting to board with some other 20 passengers, the panoramic vista of the Loch in front of me was a pleasure to behold. I had, in fact, already actually experienced quite a stretch of the Loch, seeing that we had driven down the Scottish Highlands from the city of Inverness.
What many don’t know is that the legend of the monster of Loch Ness is indeed much older than these well-known sightings
However, peering at the large freshwater lake from a car, and actually floating on it on a small boat are two entirely different things. The small craft itself was impeccably furnished with a mini-bar and other indoor luxuries, including a number of panels sporting marine sonar units able to recognize objects underwater through sound-reflecting wave pulses, which could reveal any target. These, our guide told us, were usually used for underwater surveillance, but in this case they were there to show up Nessie, should he or she appear.
Needless be said though, as the boat left the pier no one remained inside. Everyone went out on deck to admire the blue water of the lake, mirroring the perfect azure sky and unveiling a vista of virgin woods, mysterious lighthouses, lone farmsteads and tiny villages which dotted the banks of the freshwater lake, most notably the picturesque villages of Foyers and Dores.
As we looked on in amazement, we could see a number of people walking and hiking along the Loch, while small fishing boats and other cruising vessels bobbed on its calm surface.
Our guide informed us that Loch Ness was over 23 miles long, a mile wide and 700 feet at its deepest, making it the largest lake in Scotland by volume. It is, however, the second largest Loch by surface area, after Loch Lomond.
Loch Ness contains more fresh water than all the lakes of England and Wales combined and runs from Loch Dochfour to Fort Augustus. The waters of the loch flow along the River Ness through Inverness and into the North Sea. As I imbibed all this information, I looked around at the towering dome-shaped peak of Mealfurvonie, the loch’s highest mountain, which flanks the lake in majestic beauty, together with a multitude of breathtaking rolling green hills.
Cameras clicked madly as the guide proceeded to recount some of the many legends pertaining to Loch Ness. These of course, mostly surround the legendary sightings of Nessie, a large and ancient aquatic prehistoric creature which ostensibly inhabits the lake. The so-called ‘monster’ with its reputedly arched neck and benign expression, first captured popular interest in 1933, when a local couple spotted it gambolling in the water.
A few months later, a British surgeon came forward with a shadowy photograph which appeared to show an enormous sea-serpent-like creature swimming in the lake. This photograph was for decades believed by many to be ‘proof’ of Nessie’s existence and it was only in 1994 that, after a confession on his deathbed, one of the men involved revealed the plot to perpetrate this hoax.
What many don’t know is that the legend of the monster of Loch Ness is indeed much older than these well-known sightings as the creature was actually first mentioned in a 7th century biography of Saint Columba, an Irish missionary who spread the Christian faith in Scotland during the 6th century and who is said to have prevented Nessie from killing one of his monks through the power of prayer.
All tales of folklore flew directly out of my mind as our boat suddenly approached the beautifully preserved stunning medieval ruins of Urquhart Castle. Built on the banks of Loch Ness in the 13th century, the castle definitely dominates the landscape for miles around.
The visit to this fortification was the climax of the tour. The castle is one of the largest found in the Scottish Highlands and is surrounded by a ditch and a drawbridge. Standing on a rocky promontory, I couldn’t help but feel as though I was entering a fairytale as I swiftly passed through the well-planned visitors’ centre to emerge into the fresh breeze coming from the lake. A full-sized working replica of a siege engine immediately caught my attention, after which I proceeded to cross the wooden drawbridge and start exploring the gatehouse and the great hall.
Climbing the five-storey Grant Tower was a treat and it was very interesting to read the many plaques provided with relevant historical information about the castle, its strategic location and the role it played during its 500 years as a medieval fortress.
As I nursed a piping hot cup of coffee on the journey back along the Loch, I thought about the sonar equipment and very much doubted that a prehistoric animal could inhabit the lake without it being spotted in this day and age. Yet, I admit, as I looked down at the deep unfathomable water surrounding me, I still couldn’t help but try to once again to spot a shadowy presence or strange ripple marring the calm surface.
As the ferry broke away from the mainland and onto the cold Atlantic, I clapped on my fluffy ear-muffs and took a deep breath of the freezing pure air. I was crossing the Atlantic Ocean from the seaside town of Oban, on the West Coast of Scotland, towards the Isle of Mull, one of the largest islands within the archipelago known as the Inner Hebrides.
My camera clicked madly as the crossing took us through a large number of small islands, both habited and uninhibited, which form part of this archipelago. Random ruined castles, modern lighthouses, tiny hamlets, and small forests standing proudly amidst the roar of the surf, filled my vision.
The one-day trip to visit three of the most famous islands within the Inner Hebrides had not been a spur of the moment decision. We had in fact, booked and paid for it online weeks before actually setting foot on Scotland, in order to make sure that the date was solidly set beforehand. We were lucky in that we managed to visit during the last week of September, since passage for tourists to two out of the three islands we were visiting, is never possible during winter-time. Bookings were accepted up to the beginning of October, subject to weather conditions of course.
Leaving our rented car parked
snugly at Oban, we collected our combo-tickets from the ticket office, and set
off towards the Ferry Terminal Railway Peer. There are a number of cruise
companies which offer combo tickets at not much more than £45 per person. Such
tickets usually include all the ferries to and from the specific islands one
wishes to visit, as well as any possible coaches or busses, and the relevant
guides. In our case, we opted to visit the Islands of Mull, Iona and Staffa.
The comfortable ferry, which sported a wine-bar and cafeteria, made port at Craignure on Mull, the second largest island in the Inner Hebrides after the Isle of Skye. We were greeted by our coach-driver and guide, who was herself a native of Mull, and who proceeded to drive us around the picturesque island for around an hour, recounting anecdotes about the various ruins, legends, and even personages who had lived there. I must admit that without her lilting cheerful voice narrating so many colourful stories, I might have started to feel a little cramped at this point. This was because we had no time to stop anywhere or to walk around and visit Mull properly, since we had to travel directly to Fionnphort on the other side of the island, in order to catch yet another ferry to the Isle of Iona. The day was cloudy, windy and quite cold, and the gentle Scottish rain pattered on the windows of the coach, making it impossible for us to take any photos along the way. We could still admire the isle itself though. A lush picturesque symphony of moorland, mountain scenery and coastal views, dotted with small cottages and many many sheep. Our guide informed us that on Mull there were in fact three sheep for every human being.
The ferry we boarded at Fionnphort was markedly smaller than the first one. There was a middle space reserved for one or two small cars, and some railings for pedestrians to perch on at the sides. The presence of the wind was much more pronounced on such a small craft. A couple of dogs yapped steadily as we bobbed up and down towards the smaller, yet more well-known island of Iona. Renowned for its natural beauty, Iona is famous for its Abbey, which is the one of the most elaborate and best-preserved ecclesiastical building surviving from the Middle Ages. The Abbey is of particular historical and cultural interest in that it was here that Saint Columba, who brought Christianity to Scotland from Ireland, settled and built his first monastery. It is also the place of origin of the wondrous Book of Kells, an illuminated manuscript which is today kept at Trinity College in Dublin.
Personally, I am not much of a religious pilgrim, yet history, art and architecture fascinate me, which is why the Benedictine Abbey of Iona attracted me so much. The medieval arches, romantic columns, and amazingly crafted stained glass windows were the perfect complement for the natural landscape of the Hebrides. Shaggy highland cows with long horns and a peaceful expression looked at me quizzically while I breathed in the salty air and strolled along the rugged beach directly behind the Abbey. The chill actually got to me at this point and I was very happy to purchase a pair of white cotton ear-muffs from the Abbey’s souvenir shop itself. I must have been quite a sight. Perhaps that’s why the cows were staring at me.
After eating some lunch at one of the handful of small pubs on Iona, we prepared for the highlight of the day – the trip to the mythological tiny island of Staffa, and the visit to the legendary Fingal’s Cave. Being part of a Nature Reserve, and managed by the National Trust for Scotland, Fingal’s Cave is a unique natural monument formed entirely of hexagonally jointed basalt columns, similar to the Giant’s Causeway in Ireland, which I had visited a couple of years back.
We boarded an even SMALLER boat (our third one), with a capacity of not more than 25 people. The wind had really picked up at this point, and I started to get a tiny bit worried. What’s more, before starting the craft, the captain said that he had to inform us that the crossing would not be an easy one, and that in fact some people from an earlier cruise had been pretty sick. Going to the Isle of Staffa and back was going to take us approximately an hour and a half of sailing. He asked us if there was anyone who preferred to remain on land and be reimbursed the trip, since he would not be taking responsibility for any accidents. Five people got off the boat. I was scared to death. My boyfriend was looking at me breathlessly, excited by the prospect of such an adventure. I gritted my teeth and sat down. How bad could it get? Right?
All went well at first. The wind was behind us, so the boat crested the waves blithely and I got used to the rock and roll motion of the deck. It was fun actually. The waves sprayed all over us as we tried to keep steady enough to use our cameras. There was so much to take in! The Inner Hebrides are comprised of 35 inhabited islands and 44 uninhabited ones, and Staffa is one of the latter. As we drank in the blueness of the sea and sky around us, caught between them like flies in amber, our captain told us of the facts and legends surrounding Fingal’s Cave. The 72 feet tall and 270 feet deep cave itself was known to to the ancient Irish and Scottish Celtic people as Uamh-Binn, meaning ‘the Cave of Melody’, due to the eerie sounds which emanate from its arching cathedral-like features when the wind and the echo of the waves sound just-so. Legend has it that the Irish warrior and leader Fionn mac Cumhaill, who was as big as a giant, built a bridge here between the Isle of Staffa and the Giant’s Causeway in Ireland, in order for him to reach his nemesis and rival Benandonner. The legend which connects the two structures is geologically correct in fact, as both of them were created by the same ancient lava flow, which may have, at one time, formed a ‘bridge’. We are talking of around 60 million years ago here, so there were no human beings around to see it at the time.
As we got closer and closer to the islet and to the cave itself, anything seemed possible. The cave has a large arched entrance and is filled by the ocean. When I had booked our cruise, we had been promised that we could actually land on the island and walk the short distance to the cave, where a row of fractured columns form a walkway just above water level, permitting exploration on foot. Unfortunately, the captain at this point informed us that the sea was becoming too rough, and that landing was dangerous. So, we had to be content with looking closely at the island from the sea. We didn’t even enter the mouth of the cave. I admit that I was, and still am, bitterly disappointed about this. Scottish weather is fickle and changeable however, especially at sea, so there was nothing to be done. It was after all, the end of September. I would strongly recommend anyone who would like to visit the Hebrides to go during high summer, when the weather is calmer.
Cave, even from afar, was a great experience. No wonder the famed composer
Felix Mendelssohn was inspired to create ‘The Hebrides Overture’, also known as
‘Fingal’s Cave’, after visiting in 1829! Famous landscape painter J.M.W Turner
painted it, William Wordsworth, John Keats, Lord Tennyson and Queen Victoria
all expressed amazement after visiting it, and Pink Floyd even named one of
their earliest unreleased songs after the cave.
Coming back, all the feelings of awe and amazement totally fled. The sea had gotten even rougher, and this time, the boat was going against the wind. I don’t usually suffer from sea-sickness, but that trip was truly a nightmare. I sat down in a corner, held on for dear life, and ended up hugging a fire hydrant in an effort not to fall or roll off, as the now huge waves crashed against the tiny boat and all the other passengers gasped in terror, trying not to cry out. I admit, those were the longest 45 minutes of my life. Cutting a long story short, after our arrival at the Isle of Mull, we still had to suffer through an hour-long trip in the coach, and another 45 minutes on the ferry from Fionnphort back to Oban where we had left the car.
It wasn’t an easy journey to say the least, but the enchantment of Fingal’s Cave, the charm of the Inner Hebrides, and the depth of emotion I felt there, will be truly remembered forever. As will, unfortunately, the hellish boat-ride amidst the stormy Atlantic Ocean!