This was a last-minute addition to our 16-day trip that we're glad we didn't skip.
In retrospect this might have been the most vibrant autumn foliage we have ever encountered. And this comes from a Canadian -- trust me, I have seen plenty of autumn foliage in a country sporting a red maple leaf on our national flag. There's even a row of maples near my house, but this was something special.
We're up in the mountains of West Japan, at a historic castle often shrouded by mist and known to locals as Castle-in-the-Sky. Without realizing the effect of higher elevation on the ripening of foliage, we walked straight into the peak of fall colours.
Starting from the planning stages, the timing of our 16-day West Japan trip had been designed to coincide with the highly anticipated season of Koyo, or red leaves in Japanese. This was the time of year when domestic Japanese tourists swarm every major temple in Kyoto, which was precisely why we chose the road less traveled, especially on our way to Japan's Sanin Coast.
The height of the so-called Koyo-Zensen, or Red-Leaf-Front, was supposed to start in Hokkaido in October, gradually move south and reach Hiroshima by late November. In fact Hiroshima's Shukkeien garden always schedules its annual Momiji illumination festival in the third or fourth week of November. We half-expected the climax to be around November 25 upon our arrival at Hiroshima, but it came 10 day early, right here at Bitchu-Takahashi.
And we almost skipped this gorgeous little gem. Just a few weeks prior to departure I debated skipping Bitchu-Takahashi and opt for either Kibi Plain's ancient shrines or Fukiya's historic town, but the lure of a mountaintop castle was simply too tempting. That said, getting to the castle was rumored to involve either a 1.5 hour hike or a potentially expensive taxi ride. As we found out, there's a much easier way that the Japanese themselves take, but is seldom mentioned on the English side of the Internet.
You see, the town's tourism office organizes a shuttle service between their office in front of the train station and the castle, four times a day, every day. This cost 500 yen per person per way which is reasonable for saving an hour's time for sightseeing, and on the way back it's possible to ask the driver to drop off in front of the famous Raikyuji Temple and the nearby Samurai Residences. If this sounds too good to be true, you are right ...
Now here's the caveat. Reservation is mandatory and must be made prior to 17:00 the previous day, only by calling the Tourism Office -- as of 2017 they still do not take reservations by email. I managed to reserve using my dreadful Japanese, and I'm not convinced that their English is much better. But even without reservations, if you're visiting on a weekend you may be able to catch the popular 09:50 departure booked by Japanese visitors. And if that doesn't work, a private taxi cost about 1500 yen according to fellow blogger YTSL, who can also advise readers on how to hike down from the castle.
If you're interested, check the Tourism Office's official website (in Japanese) for details on the shuttle departure times.
Our shuttle dropped everyone off at the Fuigo-toge parking lot alongside a couple busloads of Japanese seniors from Kansai, still a 20 minutes hike from the castle compound through some shaded woods and slippery steps from last night's rainstorm. Walking sticks were provided for free, and would become handy on the way down.
Our first wow moment came after 15 minutes as we reached the castle's first line of fortification, menacingly perched upon a 15 metre stonewall and crowned by flaming maples at the height of their seasonal brilliance. The famous Koyo-Zensen had thoroughly arrived when we least expected.
This was less than 24 hours after our visit of Okayama's 300-year-old Koraku-en garden, where most of the maples were at least a week away from turning fully red in the mild climate of the Seto Inland Sea. But here at Bitchu-Takahashi, 400m above sea level, one more week would see the end of Koyo season.
Amidst dazzling fall colors we made our final ascent to Bitchu Matsuyama-jo, a 300-year-old citadel regarded as one of Japan's Three Great Mountain Castles. In fact this place is so famous for its mountaintop scenery that the local tourism office organizes yet another shared taxi service to chauffeur early morning visitors to a neighboring mountain just to see the castle floating above a sea of clouds. If you fancy getting here at 08:00 and don't mind spending 1500 yen, call the tourism office a day ahead and ask for the Unkai Taxi.
At last we reached Matsuyama-jo's final ring of fortifications at the mountaintop, 25 minutes after starting our hike from the parking lot. While the citadel itself had fully emerged from the morning mist that coined the nickname Castle-in-the-Sky, the town of Bitchu-Takahashi below was still enshrouded behind a layer of mist and clouds.
After a brief 20 minute stay and a final panorama from the top of the castle, we had to hurry back to the parking lot to catch the return shuttle at 11:40. We could have stayed a little longer in retrospect as the bottom half of the return path was a paved vehicle road, cutting the descent to less than 20 minutes even with photo stops along the way.
On the way back we asked the shuttle driver to drop us off at Bitchu-Takahashi's charming Buke-Yashiki, or Samurai Residences. To our surprise none of the Japanese visitors wanted off at our stop, and we were able to enjoy these immaculate 180-year-old mansions essentially all by ourselves.
Originally developed during the feudal era as a community of local government officials and public servants, the old Samurai district still carries the name of Ishibiyacho, or Cannon Town. While only two of the mansions are open for public visits, this formerly prestigious neighborhood is still lined by striking earthen walls and mossy rooftiles from a bygone era.
We spent about 45 minutes between the Orii Residence and the Haibara Residence, resting on the Tatami floor and enjoying the view of the manicured pine gardens beyond the veranda. The curator of the Haibara Residence was even able to speak reasonable English -- which was very rare in rural Japan -- and guided us through some of the more interesting exhibits.
Aside from the history, the blazing red leaves above the town's earthen walls were simply some of the most colorful of our 16-day trip. One particular red maple on a side alley north of Raikyuji Temple produced the most beautiful autumn foliage I had ever seen.
One block south of the Samurai Residences we reached the town's star attraction, a 400-year-old dry landscape garden designed by one of Edo Period's great tea masters. Featuring artificial islands of greenery and a borrowed backdrop of local mountains, Raikyuji Temple's picture-perfect rock garden is a National Designated Scenic Spot and a perennial feature on tourism brochures.
An exquisite garden of such aesthetic quality would have been flooded with international armies of tourists if this were situated in Kyoto, except we're at little-known Bitchu-Takahashi. Even in the popular sightseeing season of autumn, the number of tourists during our visit was in the single digit.
Another block south of Raikyuji stands one of West Japan's famous historic churches, the 120-year-old Takahashi Christian Church established in early Meiji Era when Christianity was barely legalized. The church is situated on the bank of little Kouyagawa river, formerly an outer moat of the castle and now a popular spot for enjoying cherry blossoms in springtime.
With just 40 minutes left before our scheduled train, we stopped for a quick snack at the town's favorite takoyaki-joint of Gomangoku, famous for a local invention known as Yuzu Konnyaku Takoyaki. I have no idea how it tastes compared with regular takoyaki, as it's only available on Saturdays and Sundays after 14:00. If anyone finds out, please drop me a comment below.
Food Review: TENNINDO (Bitchu-Takahashi)
Address: Higashimachi 1877, Takahashi-shi, Okayama Prefecture
Hours: 09:00-18:00, Closed on Sundays
Map: from Google Maps
Directions: From the train station, walk west on the main road for one little block. Turn right into a shopping street. Tennindo is 400m down the street, on the right side, just before the next major cross street.
Our featured food review of Bitchu-Takahashi isn't a restaurant, but a renowned 200-year-old confectionery with a long history of supplying handmade Wagashi sweets to the feudal lord. While I did have this little shop on our itinerary, it was my wife's keen nose that tracked down its elusive storefront. I can't even describe the seductive aroma emanating from the wooden bucket of peeled Yuzu citrus at the front.
The little bag of yellow Mochi cubes on the left was my favorite Wagashi sweet of our entire trip. Period.
A timed-honored recipe of ground Yuzu rind and Mochi powder, the plainly named Yubeshi, or Yuzu Cake, has served as Tennindo's flagship product for seven generations with its chewy texture and the unmistakable perfume of locally harvested Yuzu citrus. For Yuzu lovers like my wife and I, it's a heavenly treat that we slowly relished one cube at a time, before the end of the short 3-day expiry period.
We finished this Yuzu Monaka, a traditional wafer sandwich with tiny nuggets of Yubeshi embedded inside the Azuki bean filling, at the train station as we awaited the express train to our next homebase of Matsue. We never saw Yubeshi on the store shelf again after leaving Bitchu-Takahashi. For any reader planning to visit Bitchu-Takahashi and its mountaintop castle, do your sweet tooth a favor and don't miss this elusive Japanese dessert.
Bill for Two Persons
| Yubeshi (150 gram bag) | 325 yen |
| Yuzu Monaka | 125 yen |
| TOTAL | 450 yen (CAD$5.3) |
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