CityHillsAndSea

Daft Lists

I’m very much a sucker for lists of anything, which, according to Umberto Eco, means I don’t want to die. (Actually he said a great deal more than that about lists, go read it, it’s worth your time.)

However, do return when you’re done.

Then you can read more about my lovely ridiculous lists.

The 12 Original Tenshu

These are the twelve castles in Japan which still have their original keep. You read that correctly, there are only 12. While there are many beautiful castles in Japan, most of them are concrete replicas, as a result of the upheaval at the end of the Edo period moving into the Meiji period. The government was working hard to prevent a sequel to the Sengoku period, and the castles had to go. Some of them were fortunate enough to escape, but a great many more were lost.

Don’t expect heaps of detailed descriptions and intelligent castle appraisal here. I’m afraid I’m not knowledgeable enough for that. You can, however, pop over to either or both of these two infinitely superior sites that I recommend: J-castle and Japanese Castle Explorer.

The 52 Fujis

I feel a perverse pride in being, like as not, the only person in history to have visited every train station in Japan with the word ‘Fuji’ in the name. Of course, the fact that I am also the only person in history to have ever thought it was a good idea kind of takes the sheen off that but eh, I’ll take what I can get.

I started this project in 2006 and in my gloriously naïve state, I thought it wouldn’t take more than a year.

The original number was 52, I’d visited about 34 of them when I gave up. I started again in February 2019, because I hate things to be unfinished.

Of course, this need to make sure it didn’t go unfinished meant I did lots of careful research this time around… and the final number of actual stations sits at 57. Throw in the name change Fujiyoshida underwent, the abandoned station in the wilds of Ishikawa & the mountain itself, we ended up with 60.

Find out more about the 52 Fujis at its dedicated page.

Static Life Steam Locomotives (SLSL)

Nearing the end of my Fuji visiting adventures, I was out for a morning run in Kumagaya when I happened past a steam train sitting in a park.

There are a lot of these old trains in various public places across Japan, but this was the first time I’d wondered exactly how many. Turns out there are a lot. You can see the map of most of them over at this page, and while I’m not going to even attempt to visit them all, I’ve gone to see a few of them while off on my travels around Japan.

Railways of the Warrior (RotW)

This is as close to the craziness of the 52 Fujis that we’re ever going to get… at least for a while. ALL the stations with Musashi in their name!

The old Musashi province was made up of parts of modern day Saitama, Kanagawa and Tokyo. The province is no longer around but the name holds firm: it also lives on in the names of about thirty different stations, most of them in those aforementioned prefectures. However, there’s a couple in other parts of Japan with Musashi in the name – for a different reason – and then I’ve thrown in one former station that’s now a bus stop and … Tokyo Sky Tree?!

If you want a little more detail on the whys and wheres of all that, make your way over to the page here where you can also find a map of these stations.

The Enoden

The Enoshima Electric Railway is a very popular single tracked trainline that links Kamakura & Fujisawa.

It opened in 1902 and hasn’t changed much since then, merely growing ever more tightly packed in amongst a forest of buildings for much of its route, which snakes through residential areas and then out again, passing by historic temples and shrines, at points lined with deep green foliage; colourful flowers; bushes that shuffle gently in the wind of the passing train; nodding trees swaying overhead; exuberant plants extending leafy tendrils down as if to stroke the train carriages hurrying by.

Elsewhere it skirts the Shonan coast where shimmering silvery chunks of light sparkle on the surface of the ocean and ebb and flow with the tide, where surfers weave their own path around these shards of sunshine and then over around and through the whoosh and roar and crash of the incoming waves, while Enoshima sits serene in the bay and, should the day be clear, Fuji looks down on it all from her vantage point way over in Shizuoka and Yamanashi.

After this it’s on into the historic heart of Kamakura where the steady clang of level crossings merges with the forceful pushing gusts of the spring winds, the steady drum beat of the rainy season downpours, the clicking harmonies of cicadas in the summer heat, the gentle rustle of leaves in autumn… or just rings out loud and true and crisp and clear in the dry winter air.

Posts below, more information about the Enoden itself on this page.

The Shonan Monorail

The Shonan Monorail is a suspended monorail which means it hangs down from its rails, as it speeds over the streets and through the hills.

As you can see, it’s pretty nifty. It was also the first of its kind in Japan.

Since 1970, the Mitsubishi built monorail has linked Ofuna, in the northeast of Kamakura, to Enoshima, the little island just on the border of Fujisawa and Kamakura – which you may recall from the Enoden stations list.

For me, the monorail has always been something of a curiosity. It doesn’t seem entirely practical. I’m not exceptionally clear on which need it really addresses, in terms of public transport – perhaps when it was built, it was seen as a better option than say, widening roads and adding bus routes.

There’s more about the history of the monorail here, at its dedicated page.

It’s a short route so the list of posts about it are also pretty short: