The Great Buddha
The Great Buddha of Kotokuin Temple in the city of Kamakura, south of Tokyo is one of the premier symbols of Japan. The 13-meter tall, 700-year-old bronze statue is not the largest Buddha statue in Japan. That honor goes to the Buddha inside the Toshogu Shrine in the ancient capital city of Nara. But the Great Buddha of Kamakura is more striking because it sits outside, and the bronze has rusted green under the elements. The statue used to be housed inside a large temple building. The temple hall was repeatedly destroyed by fire, earthquake and typhoon, but since its last destruction by a tsunami in 1498 it has remained exposed outside in the open air.
In my life here, I have visited the Great Buddha five or six times. But only twice with a digital camera. My earlier visits were all with a film camera. My last visit was in March 2019. I suddenly took it into my head to go there, and I thought I was very clever to go in mid-week, on a Wednesday, to avoid crowds. But the weather that time was awful. It was rainy and very muggy, and I felt miserable. My pictures were mostly too dark.
Then on Monday, November 22nd I suddenly decided to revisit the temple the next day, Tuesday 23rd. I had the time and the money, and the weather forecast was good. The day was a national public holiday here called Thanksgiving for Labor Day (“kinrokansha no hi”). It might sound like it’s somehow related to or similar to American Thanksgiving, but it only looks that way. It’s actually a very different holiday.
This time, I planned to take pictures with my new smartphone, which seems to take better photos than my digital camera for short distances and in low light. The result was good. I got some of the best pictures ever of the statue and the temple grounds.
So, I checked the Internet the night before (Monday 22nd) to confirm the route down there from central Tokyo. It was easy. From Shinjuku Station, which is one of the most important and biggest commuter and commercial hubs of the city, I took the Shonan Shinjuku Line from Platform 1 south to Kamakura Station. Then I changed to the regional Enoden Line. The Great Buddha is located near Hase Station on the Enoden Line, just three stops (5 minutes) from Kamakura. Leave Hase Station, turn right and walk about 8-minutes north (up-slope). Easy, peasy, Japanesey! The trip from Shinjuku Station took about 1 hour and 25-minutes, which I thought was pretty good. The signage at Hase Station is not great. Yes, if you look carefully, you will see signs directing you to the Kotokuin Temple, and also to the famous Hase dera Temple which is in the same direction but on the other side of the road as the Great Buddha. Mostly what you do, if you’re clever, is to watch what other people are doing - Japanese people whom I suppose know better than me what they’re doing and where they’re going - and you just follow them.
One of these days, I would like to return and ride the Enoden Line from Kamakura Station to its other terminus, Fujisawa Station near the seaside town of Enoshima. In some parts, the train runs directly next to the sea, and if the weather is good, it is a wonderful view and a wonderful photo op (what Japanese call a “shutter chance”). Both Enoshima and Hase sit on the shore of Sagami Bay. Bayside communities feature sandy beaches that many Tokyoites escape to in the humid summer time. The beach in Hase just a few hundred meters south of the Kotokuin Temple (turn left when leaving the station) is called Yuigahama Beach. It has a very gentle underwater slope and although it doesn’t have a great surf, it is a popular spot for local surfers and sailboarders. There are all of these groovy Japanese beach bum types hanging around in wet suits and with surfboards. Hase has only one, narrow main street which is a nightmare of crowded vehicular and pedestrian traffic when the place is crowded. And, the road is lined with many kitschy souvenir shops and ice cream places - the sorts of businesses run by the groovy beach bums to finance their watery hobbies. If you explore the residential side streets you can see the worn, cluttered hovels where the groovy beach bums live. Fishing nets, old bicycles, Volkswagons, laundry hanging out to dry, surfboards leaning against walls or lying on the ground, long-haired freaky people smiling a lot like their high, or something.