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In Arashiyama I
stepped into a dream. It began with the bus ride from Kyoto: waiting in the
moonlight at a deserted stop, winding through empty streets, past tiny
restaurants and bars big enough for only a few locals. The world of a Japanese
anime lay outside my window.
Some half hour
later I reached Arashiyama. A fat orange moon climbed into view as I crossed
the Togersu-kyo, or Moon Bridge. Coloured lights lit the narrow streets,
and lanterns hung amongst the trees down by the water. Small balls of fire
floated across the bay: the cormorant fishing had begun.
Watching these
boats I felt witness to a world of fairy-tales. Marco Polo witnessed the
fishing in China, but I didn’t believe it still existed. I remember sitting
cross-legged on the floor as my kindergarten teacher recounted her exotic tales
of travel. She had spoken of seeing the fisherman and their cormorants, and at
the age of five I wondered if I would ever be witness to such wonders. On a
warm summer's night in Japan, I walked into this world I thought long gone.
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| A perfect place to dine |
Japan is like
that: an eclectic mixture of the past and present, all wrapped within the
Japanese culture. It is a land of flashing neon lights and cormorant fishing; of
blood ceilings and modern technology. A land where there is always something non-touristy to do.
To attract the
fish, a burning brazier is hung from the front of the boat. The cormorants dive
from the boat to catch the fish; a ring around their neck prevents them from
swallowing larger fish, but as they return to the boat with their prize the
fishermen reward them with smaller fish to eat. The birds are obviously well
cared for, and after their swim they sit on the edge of the boat, drying their
wings, a silhouette against the burning brazier.
Although the
fisherman put on their display for the tourists barges in the bay, by walking along
the edge of the water I could get quite close to where the fishermen pulled
ashore. They were dressed in traditional garb, with the traditional dark
kimono, a straw skirt to repel water, and a linen cloth wrapped around their
heads to protect them from sparks.
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| Lanterns in the trees |
Fishing is only in
the summer months, and a balmy breeze floated around me as these little balls
of fire floated across the water against the backdrop of dark mountains. The
lights of hidden restaurants dotted the hillside, and the moon climbed ever
higher into the sky.
One day I will
return to Arashiyama , designated by the Japanese government as a Historic
Site and Place of Scenic Beauty. It has been popular since the Heian period
(794-1185), when the nobles would visit during the summer months (and yes, they
too watched the cormorant fishing). I want explore the town by daylight; her
temples and groves of bamboo, see the cherry trees in blossom and watch the
hills don their autumn hues. For now, however, I was content to see an ancient
world come to life, to live on in my memory.
