A Night At The (Medieval Japanese) Museum

--Susan, every other Sunday

I've blogged before about Magome, a preserved post-town on the old Nakasendo ("middle mountain route") travel road, which served as a major travel artery between Kyoto and Edo (now Tokyo) during the 17th century. A haven for hikers and historians alike, Magome manages to retain its sleepy, late-feudal period character without tipping into "tourist trap." I attribute this mainly to the fact that Japanese people love history (especially their own, although most history is popular here) and the fact that the town and its people are proud of their place in that history, and its traditions, and does its best to preserve them. (Its location high in the mountains, in a place that's still relatively isolated, doesn't hurt.)

Magome, 

It's difficult to pick a favorite thing about Magome--I love pretty much every thing about it. However, one place I visit every time I go is the Magome Waki Honjin Museum.

Honjin is the Japanese word for a special group of traditional inns along Japan's travel roads that existed to serve the needs of high-ranking samurai (typically daimyō, senior officials, and members of the Imperial family).  Every post town had a honjin, and samurai would send word ahead to reserve a room for the night when passing through. If the honjin was full, high-ranking travelers would stay at the nearby waki-honjin - basically, the "standby honjin" which existed primarily to act as overflow when the travel road was busy. (Lower ranking samurai, and commoners, stayed at the other inns--of which there were many. The post towns existed to offer food and lodging to travelers on these roads, and to cater to their needs.)

Today, Magome's former waki honjin has been converted into a museum, containing artifacts from the 17th and 18th centuries, when the town served as an important stop on the Nakasendo. (For travelers heading north, it was the last night before beginning a multi-day trek through the steep, rugged mountains that run down the center of Honshu, Japan's largest island.)

Here is a taste of the fascinating exhibits this lovely little museum has on display:

Incense Burner Clock

The incense clock, ready for lighting

The various implements used to prepare the incense clock.

A cup that allowed a samurai to drink without dismounting from his horse.

Maps of the various sections of the Nakasendo. Beautiful and useful,

Traditional hair combs. The Kiso Valley (north of Magome) was famous for artisanal combs.

Mirror and makeup brushes, 17th century. Look carefully, you can see my reflection.

Wooden fire pump, 17th century. A game-changing device in a country like Japan.
(As a side note, this exhibit actually inspired an upcoming Hiro Hattori mystery novel.)

Married women often blackened their teeth (a beauty regimen I'm glad has gone out of style).
This bowl was used for that purpose. The implements were rested on the crossbar.

As a historian and a person who loves to learn, I adore small local museums like this one. In addition to being interesting in and of themselves, they do a great job of preserving pieces of history and culture that might not always make it into larger national museums. With fewer pieces to curate (and usually fewer political interests to appease) they can display not only the "highly significant" finds, but also more mundane, yet no less interesting, objects that people actually used in their daily lives.

Are you a fan of small museums? What's the best, or most memorable, one you've ever visited? 

The Unbearable Beauty of The Nakasendo

--Susan, every other Sunday

Last autumn, I walked a 7.5 kilometer stretch of the old Nakasendo - a 17th century travel road that once served as the primary northern travel route between Kyoto and Edo (now called Tokyo).

The Kiso Valley, as seen from the Nakasendo

Although my books are set in the 16th century, the section I walked is actually far older. Known as the Kisoji, this ancient travel road connected the mountain towns of Nagano and Gifu prefectures. (And thus, makes a perfect setting for one of my upcoming historical mysteries.)

Almost 8km, start to finish.

When the Tokugawa shoguns established designated travel roads (for monitoring and controlling commerce as they unified Japan), the Kisoji was absorbed into the Nakasendo (which follows its route exactly).

Before walking the road, I spent the night at Magomechaya, a minshuku (traditional guest house) in the preserved post town of Magome--once, the southernmost terminus of the Kisoji.

Magome in twilight.

After the day-trippers leave, the shopkeepers set lanterns along the street, turning the village into a magical place as the sun goes down.

Magomechaya, the minshuku where I stayed.

The following morning, I woke at dawn and followed the steep, winding road out of town and past the ancient notice board where Tokugawa shoguns posted edicts for travelers and townspeople along the Nakasendo:

You didn't want to see your name on this notice board.

Shortly after I set out, the sun appeared above the mountains, illuminating a lotus field:

Parts of the Nakasendo haven't changed much in 1000 years.

The road remains uneven, cobblestoned in places:

17th century cobblestones.

packed earth in others:

Silent, untouched, and breathtakingly beautiful.

It winds through mountains covered in towering pines and glorious maples:

More metaphors than you can shake a stick at.

And it hides a hidden danger ... bears.

Please have a thing out of the sound. Not a clue what that means,  but fortunately I survived.

Since medieval times, travelers on the Nakasendo have had to watch out for the bears that inhabit the mountains. Brass "bear bells" hang on stands at intervals along the road, with signs warning travelers to ring them hard "against bears."

"Ring the bell hard against bears."

I saw no bears to ring the bells against, which was probably good. The signs did not include instructions on how to make the bears stand still long enough for me to ring a bell against them, anyway.

About two-thirds of the way to Tsumago - the next town north of Magome, and my initial destination -- a road branches off, with a sign that reads "Otaki-Metaki Waterfalls." Never one to bypass an opportunity for adventure, I took the proverbial road less traveled by...

Not sure which one is Otaki & which is Metaki

The falls sit about 100 meters apart, and each is about 40' high.

It did, indeed, make all the difference.

Afterward, I retraced my steps to the Nakasendo and continued my journey, arriving in the preserved post town of Tsumago in time for lunch and a visit to the fantastic museums there.

Tsumago, Japan Alps.

But that's a story for another day.

Preserved inn and teahouse, Tsumago.

Although it's not as well-known as many historical sites in Japan, the Nakasendo is one of my favorite places in Japan. I loved every minute of my walk, even if its beauty was ...

... unbearable.

(Sorry, Jeff, I had to beat you to it.)