Naming storms seems to me like a decidedly American thing which is slowly spreading to other parts of the world. It has not yet spread to Japan, where we have the simultaneously boring but exciting-to-weather-people storm “Typhoon #5” heading our way. In the way of my people, I decided it needed a name, so it has become Mambo. Mambo is afraid of confrontation and so its path is skirting just south of Japan, but we still get lots and lots of rain (and small talk with shop owners straight outta a Japanese textbook) from it.
I have places to go and temples to see in Kamakura, and so after a leisurely morning, I set out with my new penguin umbrella and my sunglasses, not pausing to think about what a foolish combo that is to carry on this day…
Kamakura is an hour southwest of Tokyo and I have been many times. However, I have never been before in driving rain…but at least that would keep the crowds down, right? Mostly right. It’s Sunday, after all.
The rain begins as a light, if slightly menacing, drizzle. I board the small Enoden, Kamakura’s touristy cute train, and go to Hasedera. It’s a buddhist temple known for its large wooden statue of Kannon and lovely gardens and views of Kamakura.
Little did I know, Hasedera too was stricken with Hydrangea Mania. The usual route up the hillside was gated and covered in hydrangea. According to math, I would have had to wait 60 minutes to go up the hill. Uhh…pass. It’s too cloudy for a good view across the bay today anyway. There were still a lot of nice views of the hydrangea against the bamboo below, and to its credit, Hasedera did have a pretty fantastic hydrangea collection.
As I am leaving Hasedera, the rain upgrades to a malicious drizzle. I opt to skip the big Buddha because I really want to get to a different temple that I haven’t been to and who knows how much more wet this day will get?
I took the tiny train back to the main station and slowly wound my way around other umbrellas, tourists, and hydrangea pots to Hachiman-gu, the largest Shinto shrine nearest the station. It’s dedicated to Hachiman, the god of war. This one is free (yay!) and as the rain intensifies, the crows kind of thin. It becomes slightly more obnoxious to take pictures and enjoy my time as it’s so wet. And…my camera lens is beginning to fog up uncontrollably, so that’s neat.
This particular shrine also has a pond on its grounds, and I believe it’s where fat birds assault people until they get fed. The birds were smartly not out right now, and people were not really dawdling in the rain.
Thoroughly wet and shoes beginning to become soggy, I thought pretty hard about going to Hokokuji. I’d either have to figure out the bus or walk 20 minutes. Because of previous bus curses with non-looping buses, the only obvious option is to walk or risk being lost out in an abyss somewhere (though we have already established that Japanese abysses are friendly places). And so, walking down the road I went to Hokokuji, which supposedly has a very lovely bamboo garden. For the amount of wet there is, it had better be extremely fabulous.
Google took me most of the way there on a narrow and busy street, where my umbrella repeatedly bonked off of high concrete walls or poles that were randomly there. It then took me on a narrow walking path, which in any other country might have been home to a serial killer, but because this is Japan, it was relatively pleasant and Ghibli-like (and sheltered me from the rain, more importantly).
Got to Hokokuji just before closing (as the rain became Serious Business), and I am pleased to report that the bamboo grove was pretty lovely, complete with a tea house and other various garden staples, like the Japanese maple and ten billion hydrangeas. Definitely worth a visit despite being off the beaten track a ways. It’s incredibly beautiful and I’m glad I trekked through the downpour to see it!
On the way back to Tokyo, the storm upgraded from aggressive drizzler to a downpour. My shoes were soaked completely through – no Shinjuku tonight! My flip flops kick up too much water when walking and the sidewalks have become mini-rivers. It’s corner ramen stand for me and an evening watching a Japanese documentary about Israel.
