As Japanese lifestyle fads go, the ancient art of shugendo isn’t going to knock Marie Kondo off the bestseller lists. Its secret rituals, practised in the mountains of the Kunisaki peninsula, include treacherous climbs on rusty chains and regular dowsings in freezing cold waterfalls. Its disciples spend days and nights on the mountainside with little more than a blanket and an occasional bowl of rice. It makes that Tough Mudder your mate bangs on about look like an egg and spoon race at a church fete.
There are, however, less punishing ways to explore this awe-inspiring and undervisited area of northern Kyushu, one of Japan’s four main islands. Walk Japan’s guided tour of Kunisaki is for those who want to spend a week stretching their legs, but have no intention of yomping all day with a heavy pack. Now FinnAir has launched a flight to Fukuoka from Heathrow, it’s an attractive introduction to the region’s rice-covered valleys, forests of cedar and bamboo, and 6,000 years of history.
There are nine in our walking group, a mixture of couples and friends and solo travellers, as well as our guide Llew, who is a font of Japanese history. Mount Futago, the volcano at the centre of the Kunisaki peninsula, created an unusually symmetrical pattern of valleys when it erupted, and early practitioners of Buddhism, who arrived in Japan in the 7th century, saw in it the auspicious symbol of the lotus mandala. As a result, the surrounding hills are full of ancient shrines and statues – folklore has it that one priest called Ninmon carved 60,000 Buddhas alone.
An hour-long climb brings us to a small teahouse where Mr Imakuma, an art-loving monk, serves us tea and buns and satsumas, and enthuses about Antony Gormley’s visit here two years ago, when he left behind one of those naked cast iron men with which he likes to populate the world. “There was a bit of controversy,” admits Imakuma, “because some people didn’t like the idea of a naked figure on this sacred pilgrimage route. But his artwork is all about the relationship between humans and their environment and that’s what this place is about.”
Gormley’s figure juts out from a peak that seems miles away, yet within 40 minutes we’re standing next to it, gazing over the valley. Clouds hover like spaceships above the ridge opposite, then roll down the mountains, their arrival sprinkling us with rain. When they clear, you can see east to the Inland Sea.
It’s no wonder this place inspires reflection. When we discover, at one of the ryokans we stay at, that our chef Junyo is also the priest of the temple next door, I surprise myself by getting up at 7am to join him for a short bout of silence. After 20 minutes of listening to the sound of the rain as it beats the timbers around us, Junyo dings a bell, changes out of his priestly robes and whips up breakfast. His cold soba noodles are the perfect return to earth.
There is no danger of asceticism on our trip. Our kaiseki dinners are multi-course wonders, a progression of lacquer bowls and boxes dazzling us with local seafood, fish and vegetables. At the other end of the scale there’s crisp tempura and deep rich miso for lunch in roadside cafés. The omnipresent savoury egg custard takes a bit more getting used to, but by the end of the trip I’ve come to love its indulgent creaminess. The Oita prefecture produces 40% of Japan’s shiitake mushrooms, spored in the trunks of sawtooth oaks.
While we see plenty of evidence of farming – half-harvested rice paddies, piles of corn husks – we see few people working the land; rural depopulation is a major concern here. In many places, clumps of scarecrows are arranged in tableaux of village life, part of an official programme to make them seem less devoid of life. We’ll pass a park bench and realise that the two old ladies sitting on it have faces drawn in marker pen and plastic bags over their heads; or that a disconcerting sense of being watched is caused by the creepy straw-stuffed man lurking next to a nearby wall. Stephen King would have a field day.
As a company, Walk Japan is keenly aware of the problems of depopulation. Part of its mission is to help revive the local community in Kunisaki through farming, forest regeneration and education projects. They’re less interested in showing you the culture of rural Japan than immersing you in it – literally, in the case of the hot baths that become part of our nightly routine.
There’s nothing that will bond a group of strangers as quickly as throwing them together, naked, in an onsen – although requiring them to come to dinner each night wearing traditional yukata robes comes a close second. By our final night, in the lively spa town of Yufuin, we were comfortable enough to head to a karaoke bar in them. We found ourselves sharing the bar with a group of suited businessmen, who duetted with us into the small hours.
In the morning the group split up. Inspired by the week’s walking, I made a solo climb of Mount Yufu (1,583m). I had a hangover and I forgot to take snacks. It was the closest I’m ever going to get to shugendo, and for that, I’m grateful.
Way to go
Finnair flies direct from Helsinki to Fukuoka from 27 April to 28 October; return from Heathrow to Fukuoko via Helsinki from £579 (finnair.com). Walk Japan’s five-day, four-night fully guided Kunisaki and Yufuin Walk costs from £1,600pp (walkjapan.com)
