Shinto

Hakata Railway Shrine (博多鐵道神社)

The plan was quite simple, we were going to hop on a short two hour flight to the southern Japanese city of Fukuoka to enjoy some sakura, eat at some of the city’s famed ramen joints, and take a bit of a road trip.

We started planning for the trip a few months in advance, and I loaded up a customized travel map with quite a few tourist destinations, places to eat, and things to see, so when the time came, we were ready to go!

Obviously, being that it was my first trip to Kyushu, I put some of the obvious destinations on my list of places to visit. Most notably, I added the city’s most important Shinto Shrines and Buddhist temples in addition to the best places to check out the cherry blossoms.

That being said, when I travel, I enjoy checking out things that tend to not show up on the average tourist’s itinerary, and when it comes to Japan, I especially enjoy checking out things that have historic links to Taiwan.

If you’ve been following my writing for any period of time, you’re likely aware that I’ve become a bit of a fan of Taiwan’s historic railway stations, most of which were constructed by the Japanese, during their fifty years of colonial rule on the island.

The development of the railway network here in Taiwan is a story that follows closely with the development of the railway in Japan, as the empire was in mass-development mode in the early 20th century, and the railway on the southern island of Kyushu is one that was developed at the same time as Taiwan’s, with engineers constantly traveling back and forth.

Being that I’m a fan of these things, I decided to add Fukuoka’s somewhat obscure ‘Railway Shrine’ to my list of places to visit while in the city. The shrine, which was an addition to the newly constructed ‘JR Hakata City’ railway station is only about a decade old, so it doesn’t really compare to some of the other places of worship in the city that boast over a thousand years of history, but what it does do is celebrate the history of Fukuoka’s modern development, and the close relationship that the railway has played in crafting the beautiful port town.

Given that I enjoy exploring obscure locations, I unfortunately discovered upon my return home that the shrine, being as ‘new’ as it is, hasn’t really received much attention from tourists, or even domestic writers in Japan.

It ended up taking me quite a while to complete my research about the shrine before I was able to write this article - So, here’s to hoping that the effort I made to tell the story of the shrine helps to attract more visitors!

Hakata Railway Station (博多驛 / はかたえき)

Hakata Railway Station is Kyushu’s largest and busiest transportation hub, connecting the southern island to the rest of the country, and acts as the gateway to the other major cities on the island. Connected to JR West, JR Kyushu, the Kyushu Shinkansen, the San’yo Shinkansen, and the Fukuoka City Subway, the railway station serves well-over a hundred thousand commuters on a daily basis, making it one of the busiest in Japan.

Reconstructed in 2011, the station became part of the much larger JR Hakata City Building (JR博多城), which features not only all of Fukuoka’s major transportation links, but ten floors of department stores, restaurants and quick access to all of the best souvenirs in town.

And for people who love eating ramen as I do, the station is also home to an entire floor dedicated to eating some at some of the best ramen restaurants that Hakata is famous for - and lets face it, if you’re in Fukuoka, and you don’t try at least one bowl of their famed Tonkotsu Ramen (豚骨ラーメン), you’re either a vegetarian, or you completely messed up.

Note: Talking about ‘Hakata’, I think I should take a minute to explain a bit about the names here, which might confuse some travelers - A lot of people may wonder why the main station is named ‘Hakata Station’ and not ‘Fukuoka Station’. The reason for this is seeped in the history of the city, which only became known as “Fukuoka City” (福岡市) in 1889, the same year the original station opened. Prior to that, the city we know today was divided between the samurai-governed district of ‘Fukuoka’, and the port and merchant area of ‘Hakata’ (博多).

During the merger process, there was a debate as to whether the name the city should be Fukuoka or Hakata, but that debate was ended when a bunch of samurai appeared at the meeting with swords in hand and insisted upon Fukuoka.

Nevertheless, given that the railway station is located within the historic area of Hakata, it retained its original name. Similarly, we refer to ramen as ‘Hakata’ ramen, because it was where Tonkotsu noodles originated, although I’m not sure the samurai were as worried about that as they were the name of the city!

The Hakata Station that we know today, however, is one that has had to expand several times throughout its history, in order to meet the needs of the local population, and the modernization of Japan’s railway services.

The first iteration of the station opened in 1889 (明治22年) as the first thirty-five kilometer line opened for operation between Hakata Station and Chitosegawa Station. Over the next decade, the railway in Kyushu would expand to over 712.6 kilometers of track.

Note: For reference, the railway network in Kyushu currently has a length of 2,273 kilometers.

As part of Japan’s drive for modernization, the government invited a number of western engineers from America, England, Germany, etc. to come and assist in the planning of the nation’s railway, as well as training a generation of engineers, who would in turn completely transform and connect the islands in a way that had never been done before.

In its original location (about 600 meters from its current location), the first generation station was constructed in 1899 (明治22年), but as the railway grew, the original building was expanded in 1909 (明治42年). Then, in 1963 (昭和38年), a new station was constructed, in its current location, that for a number of logistical purposes made more sense.

The new station, known as the ‘Showa-era station’ was a modern skyscraper that was constructed to prepare for the arrival of Shinkansen service in Kyushu, which officially started in 1975 (昭和50年). However, as the railway network in Kyushu continued to expand, construction on the Fukuoka Subway system would eventually connect directly to the railway station in the early 1980s, offering even more convenience.

Finally, in anticipation of the completion of the Kyushu Shinkansen network, in 2005 (平成17年), a large-scale expansion project got underway, which saw the demolition of the Showa-era building and the opening of the massive Heisei-era JR Hakata City Building in 2011 (平成23年).

Amazingly, despite all of the convenience offered by the Hakata Railway Station, work continues to improve the commuting experience, and during my time in the city, they were preparing for the official opening of the Fukuoka City Subway Nanakuma Line (七隈線 / ななくません) connecting the western district of the city directly with Hakata Station, and there are further plans to extend the line further in the coming years.

For most westerners, it might be difficult to relate to the cultural importance that the people of Japan have with the railway, but the history of the railway from the late nineteenth century until now has been a story that has coincided with the modern development of Japan, and each and every person in the country has some sort of relationship with the railway.

As part of that special relationship, when the JR Hakata City building was constructed, a little extra effort was made to construct a Railway Shrine on the roof of the building, which plays an role in celebrating the history of Kyushu’s railway network, and allows for people to pray for safe travels at the same time!

Tetsudo Shrine (鐵道神社 / てつどうじんじゃ)

On October 14th, 1872, Emperor Meiji (明治皇帝) stepped onto a train at Shimbashi (新橋駅), in the newly established imperial capital of Tokyo for its maiden voyage. In doing so, the emperor ushered in an era of unprecedented and transformative era of rapid industrialization and development that still can be felt over one hundred and fifty years later in modern Japan.

Amazingly, over the past century and a half, the growth of Japan’s railway network has never stopped, with a healthy mixture of local trains, high speed trains, light rail, and subway networks spread over 30,000 kilometers of track around the country, making commutes a smooth and convenient affair.

Despite that, unlike other countries around the world that have ignored their railway networks, the Japanese are constantly looking for new methods to improve their railways, overseeing a transition from steam, to electric to a future with maglev technology. Technology, however, is not the only thing that has changed over all these years as the railway network has also had a major impact on the people of the country in which the railway acts a microcosm for the ‘efficiency’ and ‘punctuality’ that Japan is known for.

Link: Empire of steel: Where Japan’s railways stand after 150 years of evolution (Japan Times)

When visiting one of the nation’s nearly 100,000 Shinto Shrines, one of the best ways to support the shrine is to purchase an amulet known as an omamori (御守/お守り). These amulets typically feature the name of the shrine on one side, and a general blessing on the other. In most cases these blessings are for good luck, prosperity in business and success on tests, but a lot of the time you’ll find people purchasing them for ‘traffic safety’ (交通安全) protection.

With this in mind, it should be no surprise that there are dozens of ‘Railway Shinto Shrines’, known as ‘Tetsudo Jinja’ (鐵道神社 / てつどうじんじゃ) in many of the country’s major travel hubs. As highlighted earlier, Japan’s railway network is renowned for its efficiency and safety record, so one could argue that the popularity of these traffic safety amulets and shrines have done an admirable job in helping avert major disasters over the years.

Link: 鉄道神社 (Wiki)

In some cases though, a ‘Railway Shrine’ might transcend the traditional spiritual function of a shrine and play a dual-role in the celebration of the railway’s history, and its cultural importance.

The Hakata Railway Station’s Railway Shrine is certainly one of those shrines that plays a dual role in that it acts as a fitting celebration of Kyushu’s railway, and those responsible for bringing it into existence.

Unfortunately, as I mentioned earlier, searching for information about this shrine proved to be quite difficult as there is very little written about its history. Even more frustrating is that the few resources I was able to find were also unclear as to the age of the shrine. This left me wondering if the shrine existed prior to the construction of the latest iteration of the railway station, and it was moved to its current location, or it was just an addition to the newly constructed station.

Located on the roof of JR Hakata City, Fukuoka’s railway hub, the shrine is currently just over a decade old, and is a notable addition to the railway station, in that it offers travelers an opportunity to pray for safety, celebrate the history of the railway, and one of Fukuoka’s most important shrines, the Sumiyoshi Shrine, which shares its divinity with this one.

Architecturally similar to one of the smaller shrines you’d typically find nestled along the side of a road in Japan, this one features most of what you’d expect from a shrine of its size, and although you won’t find dedicated staff there that often, it is well-maintained, and an interesting tourist attraction.

As I move on below, I’ll introduce each of the important pieces of the shrine to help readers better understand what they’ll see if they visit:

The Visiting Path (參道 / さんどう)

The Visiting Path, known in Japanese as the “sando” (さんどう) is an essential aspect of the overall design of any Shinto Shrine, and is most often just a long pathway that leads visitors to the shrine. While these paths serve a functional purpose, they are also quite symbolic in that the “road” is the path that one takes on the road to spiritual purification. Taking into consideration that ‘Shinto’ is literally translated as the “Pathway to the Gods” (神道), having a physical pathway that leads people from the realm of the profane to that of the sacred is quite important. 

The length of a shrine’s visiting path tends to vary, based on the size of the shrine, and where it’s located. Shrines in the forest, or on the sides of mountains, for example tend to have quite long Visiting Paths, while those located in cities are much shorter. Keeping in mind that this specific shrine is located on the roof of the train station, the amount of space available for the path is obviously confined, especially since it shares the space.

One of the noticeable differences between this Visiting Path and others is the absence of the stone Guardian Lion-Dogs, known in Japan as ‘komainu’ (狛犬/こまいぬ) as well as the stone lanterns, known as as ‘toro’ (しゃむしょ), which are usually lined symmetrically on both sides of the path.

The Shrine Gates (鳥居 / とりい)

Shrine Gates, known in Japanese as ‘torii’ (鳥居 / とりい) are some of the most iconic images of Japan, and while they are quite beautiful, they are also extremely symbolic at the same time. The gates, which line the ‘Visiting Path’ of any shrine are essentially markers along the road that symbolize the transition from the mundane to the sacred.

These gates are one of the best methods for identifying that a shrine is nearby, and also one of the best ways for a foreigner to differentiate a shrine from a Buddhist temple. Depending on the amount of space reserved for a shrine, there might only be one gate, or there could be several - In this case, there are four primary gates along the Visiting Path, but there are also a number of decorative gates that surround both the left and right paths that encircle the shrine.

In most cases, when there are a number of shrine gates, they are numbered, for example, the first gate is known as ichi no torii (一の鳥居), the second, ni no torii (二の鳥居) and so on. In this case though, each of the primary gates features a name, which sets them apart from most other shrines in the country.

I’ve translated the names of each of the gates below:

  1. Heavenly Gate (一の鳥居には / 星門)

  2. Prosperity Gate (二の鳥居は / 福門)

  3. Dream Gate (三の鳥居は / 夢門)

  4. Main Gate (本鳥居 / 鐵道神社)

One of the most fortunate aspects of my visit to the shrine was that I was able to visit at a time when all of the cherry trees that were planted near the shrine were in bloom. Together with the shrine gates, the cherry blossoms made the experience a special one, especially since it was a bit windy on the roof and some of the blossoms were falling like snow in the afternoon rain.

The Purification Fountain (手水舍 / ちょうずしゃ)

Located to the right of the third shrine gate, or the 'dream gate,’ you’ll find a small, and very simple Purification Fountain, which is an essential addition to any Shinto Shrine as one of the most important aspects to Shintoism is something referred to as “hare and ke” (ハレとケ), otherwise known as the "sacred-profane dichotomy."

It is thought that once you pass through the shrine gate, which is considered the barrier between the ‘profane’ and the ‘sacred’, it is necessary to do so in the cleanliest possible manner by symbolically purifying yourself at the chozuya (ちょうずしゃ) or temizuya (てみずしゃ) provided. 

An absolute must at every Shinto Shrine, the purification fountain is an important tool for symbolically readying yourself for entrance into the sacred realm. To do so, worshipers take part in a symbolic ritual that it’s safe to say that every person in Japan is familiar with. 

Link: How to Perform the “Temizu” Ritual (Youtube)

Jizō Shrine (和顔施合掌地蔵)

Located along the Visiting Path, you’ll find a small little wooden shrine house with a statue of Jizo (地蔵 / じぞうそん), one of Japan’s most well-loved Buddhist figures. At one time, Shinto Shrines and Buddhist Temples were once synonymous with each other, but during the Meiji Revolution, the Emperor insisted that they become separate as there was a push to make Shinto the state religion. Despite this, you can still find images of Jizo hanging out close to Shinto Shrines in Japan, and given that this shrine in particular is geared towards travelers safety, it shouldn’t be a surprise that he makes an appearance here - especially since he is regarded as a guardian deities for children and travelers.

Main Hall (本殿 / ほんでん)

The ‘Main Hall’, otherwise known as the “honden” (本殿/ほんでん) is regarded as the most sacred part of any Shinto Shrine, and is the home of the gods. As a smaller shrine, the Main Hall at the Tetsudo Shrine is a simple ‘hokora’ (祠 / ほこら) style structure that is elevated on a stone base.

A hokora is essentially a miniature version of a much larger shrine, and shares similar architectural designs, albeit on a much smaller scale.

Today the term ‘hokora’ pretty much translates as ‘shrine’, which for someone like me who lives in Taiwan will understand as a ‘place of worship’ that is considerably smaller than a temple. It’s thought that the Japanese term however evolved from the similarly sounding word ‘hokura (神庫), which translates literally as "kami repository”, or home of the gods.

In any case, the miniature structure here was constructed primarily of wood, and features a copper roof. Following one of the most common architectural designs for Japan’s Shinto Shrines, it makes use of the ‘nagare-zukuri’ (流造 / ながれづくり) style.

In this style of design, the ‘moya’ (母屋 / もや) is surrounded by a veranda on all four sides and has a set of stairs in the middle with two columns on either side. The columns help to support an asymmetrical ‘kirizuma-yane’ (切妻屋根 / きりづまやね) gabled roof that eclipses the size of the ‘moya’ and the veranda that surrounds it, keeping the wooden section dry.

As most often is the case, the hokora acts as a ‘repository’ for the kami enshrined within, which is a sacred space that normal people aren’t really supposed to approach. In this case, the shrine is quite small and you won’t often find shrine staff in the area, so you can approach it quite easily. That being said, the doors to the shrine where the kami are located is usually closed, so it doesn’t matter all that much anyway.

Sumiyoshi Sanjin (住吉三神)

The kami enshrined within the Railway Shrine are known as the Sumiyoshi Sanjin (住吉三神), and their divinity was ‘shared’ from the nearby Sumiyoshi Shrine (住吉神社 / すみよしじんじゃ), one of Hakata’s oldest and most important places of worship.

For those of you unfamiliar with how Shinto Shrines partition, or ‘divide’ a kami’s power, I recommend checking out the explanations linked below. The process from which larger shrines share divinity with smaller shrines is something that is common in Shinto Shrines in Japan, but is also a practice that you’ll find throughout other places of worship in Asia.

Link: Kanjo (分靈): English / Japanese (Wiki)

The three Sumiyoshi Sanjin, also known as the Sumiyoshi daijin (住吉大神) are as follows:

  1. Sokotsutsu (底筒男命 / そこつつのおのみこと)

  2. Nakatsutsu (中筒男命 / なかつつのおのみこと)

  3. Uwatsutsu (表筒男命 /うわつつのおのみこと)

Regarded as the gods of the sea and sailing, the Sumiyoshi Sanjin were carefully chosen in that not only do they reflect the Hakata’s long history as one of Kyushu’s most important international trading ports, but because they are known for their ability to protect travelers, which is obviously quite important for a railway shrine. Likewise, with well over two-thousand shrines across the country dedicated to these deities, the nearby shrine mentioned above is (probably) one of the first dedicated in their honor, and is one of the three-most important in the country.

Link: Sumiyoshi sanjin (Wiki)

Hermann Rumschöttel Memorial (ヘルマンさんのレリーフ)

Located to the left of the Main Hall, you’ll find a memorial dedicated to German engineer Herrmann Rumschottel (1844-1918), who starting in 1887 was responsible for overseeing the construction of Kyushu’s rail network, and the training of Japanese engineers who would ultimately complete the work years later.

The simply memorial features a carved likeness of Rumschöttel with the text “九州鉄道建設の恩人”, which translates as the ‘Benefactor of Kyushu’s railway,’ a nod to his influence.

Getting There

 

Address: 1-1 Hakataekichūōgai, Hakata-ku, Fukuoka, 812-0012 (〒812-0012 福岡県福岡市博多区博多駅中央街1−1)

GPS: 33.589780, 130.417820

Mapcode: 724 404 559*62

When it comes to offering directions to the locations I write about, I usually have to spend a bunch of time providing detailed travel information so that people don’t get lost. With this one, I fortunately don’t have to spend very much time with this section.

The Hakata Railway Shrine is conveniently located on the roof of the Hakata Railway Station (博多駅 / はかたえき). The station is accessible via JR Kyushu, JR West, and the Fukuoka City Subway. As a major transportation hub in Kyushu, it is accessible by not only local and express trains, but also the Shinkansen (新幹線) as well.

Links: Hakata Station | 博多駅 (Wiki) | Fukuoka City Subway

Understandably, as Kyushu’s largest transportation hub, the railway station is quite, and a maze of corridors, which makes it confusing for a lot of tourists. So, to get to the roof, you’re going to have to make your way to the eastern side of the building, where you’ll find the Hankyu Department Store on one side, and Tokyu Hands on the other.

From there, you’ll probably notice the large glass elevators that are buzzing up and down the building. To save a lot of time, its better to get on the elevators and take them to the top floor. Once you reach there, you’ll simply take an escalator to the roof and you’ll find the shrine in no time.

While you’re on the roof, it’s important to note that it’s not only home to the shrine, but some romantic skyline views of the city and some attractions that are especially attractive for children. It tends to be a busy place, but the shrine tends to be quiet most of the time.

If you find yourself in Fukuoka for any length of time, there are quite a few thousand-or-more year old shrines to visit, so this one likely isn’t at the top of most people’s list of destinations. As I mentioned earlier, I was a little more invested in a visit to the shrine than most tourists due to the history of the railway in Japan, and how it relates quite closely to the development of the railway here in Taiwan.

We don’t have any Railway Shrines over here anymore, but it was nice to see the history of Japan’s railway celebrated in this way on top of one of the busiest transportation hubs in southern Japan.

References

  1. Hakata Station | 博多車站 | 博多駅 (Wiki)

  2. 鉄道神社 福岡市 (Wiki)

  3. 住吉三神 (日文) | 住吉三神 (中文) | Sumiyoshi sanjin | (Wiki)

  4. JR Hakata City

  5. 船や鉄道、バイクまで さまざまな「乗りもの神社」全国に (Traffic News)

  6. 鉄道神社(てつどうじんじゃ)- 福岡市 (福岡のかみさま)

  7. 鉄道神社の御朱印情報~博多駅に最も近い神社~ (御朱印のじかん)

  8. 鉄道神社 (旅人のブログ)

  9. There’s a shrine and strange scene waiting for you at the top of this Japanese train station (Sora News)

  10. 日本博多車站推薦景點|在博多車站就可以看夕陽跟夜景 ,還有超迷你神社 !|博多車站燕林廣場 (Pop Daily)


Sumiyoshi Shrine (住吉神社)

While planning an eight-day long trip to Japan’s southern island of Kyushu, I was quite ambitious and placed a large number of destinations on a customized Google Map. Prior to our departure, I was fully aware that it was highly unlikely that we’d have enough time to visit them all, but having options and backup destinations is always an important consideration when traveling. With only a few days in Fukuoka before setting off to other parts of the island, I had to prioritize and carefully plan where we’d visit within the city, especially since we planned two excursions out of the city to the Hakozaki Shrine (筥崎宮) and the Dazaifu Shrine (太宰府天満宮), both of which would take about half a day to visit. We’d eventually have to return to the city after our tour around the island, but our time on that day was reserved solely for taking part in the Fukuoka Cherry Blossom Festival.

Suffice to say, time was short and there is way to much to see and do in the beautiful port city.

A few days prior to our departure, we became a little concerned as the forecast was looking quite dire for pretty much the entire duration of our trip. With rain forecast for every day that we’d be in the country, it seemed like some of our schedule might have to be altered, depending on how much rain was coming down. Fortunately, even though it did rain, it wasn’t that bad, and we were able to visit almost all of the spots that were high up on our list. Sadly, we did miss out on the opportunity to visit the city’s famed Kushida Shrine (櫛田神社) due to the weather, but in its stead, we paid a visit to another of Fukuoka’s most important places of worship, the Sumiyoshi Shrine (住吉神社).

There are, of course, a number of reasons why travelers visiting Fukuoka should pay the Sumiyoshi Shrine a visit, and now that I’ve have, I can confidently say that an excursion to the shrine should be high atop the list of Fukuoka’s tourist destinations. What I do find unfortunate, though, is that there is very little written about this important shrine.

I had my own reasons for wanting to visit the shine while planning the trip, but, admittedly, I had only listed it as a backup destination. In retrospect, we would have really missed out if we didn’t end up visiting the shrine, so I’m thankful to say that if it weren’t for the rain, we might not have had the opportunity to go.

So, before I start introducing the shrine, let me list a few of the reasons why I think anyone visiting the area should make visiting the Sumiyoshi Shrine a priority:

  1. The shrine is what is known as an ‘ichinomiya’ (一の宮 / いちのみや) or the ‘highest-ranking’ shrine in Fukuoka Prefecture, which makes it one of the most important places of worship in town.

  2. While the shrine may look quite new, don’t let it’s well-maintained appearance deceive you, it’s about 1800 years old.

  3. Given its age, it is considered the ‘first’ and also one of the ‘three most important’ of the more-than two-thousand Sumiyoshi Shrines scattered throughout the country.

  4. Predating the arrival of Buddhism in Japan, the shrine spawned an architectural style of its own, known as Sumiyoshi-zukuri, which is one of Japan’s oldest styles of architectural design.

  5. The shrine is listed as one of Japan’s Protected National Treasures (国指定重要文化財).

  6. Occupying about 2.6 hectares of land within the downtown core of Fukuoka, the shrine is like an oasis within the modern city where anyone who visits can enjoy some peace and quiet as well as some refuge from the rain.

  7. The shrine is one of Fukuoka’s most popular places to get married. You may get to experience a traditional marriage ceremony taking place during your visit.

  8. If you’re into theater, the shrine plays host to Kyushu’s most important ‘Noh Theater’ (能 / のう) venue.

  9. If you plan your visit well, you may get to see some sumo wrestling competitions taking place at the shrine, which acts as one of the most important shrines with regard to the traditional sport.

Of course, these are only some of the reasons why tourists should visit the Sumiyoshi Shrine, and if you have the opportunity, I’m sure you could add some more of your own to the list. Sure, it might just seem like another one of Japan’s high-ranking shrines, and there are a lot of shrines like that, but this one tends to be quite busy, with a lot of events and activities, so a visit should prove to be a rewarding cultural experience.

Sumiyoshi Shrine (住吉神社 / すみよしじんじゃ)

For any of you who are interested in anything related to Japan, there are two books that you absolutely have to be aware of: The Kojiki (古事記 / こじき), and the Nihon Shoki (日本書紀 / にほんしょき) - known in English as the ‘Records of Ancient Matters’ and the ‘Chronicles of Japan’ respectively. Regarded as the oldest known written records of Japanese history - part historical record, part myths and legends - the books are essentially a historical account of the origin of the Japanese nation, the imperial line of succession and the deities worshiped in the country.

Even for those those of you who are interested in Japanese pop culture, be it anime, comics, music or film, these two books form a basis for a large amount of the stories that you’ll enjoy.

The Kojiki, the oldest of the two is dated back to about the eighth century, and within its records you’ll find mention of an ‘ichinomiya in Chikuzen Province’ (筑前國一之宮) known as the Sumiyoshi Shrine. Just to give you a bit of an idea about how old this shrine is, it basically predates every written record you’ll find in Japan. This, however, is where things become a little complicated as the precise date of the establishment of the shrine is relatively unclear. The earliest known record of the shrine dates back to the year 737, the ninth year of the Tenpyo era (天平9年).

Note: Chikuzen Province was essentially the geographic area that we refer to as Fukuoka Prefecture today. It was once a feudal domain controlled by the Kuroda clan (黒田氏), but was renamed in the 1870s during the Meiji Restoration, which converted Japan’s provinces into prefectures. The reforms also took away power of the daimyos (大名), or the feudal lords who controlled areas of the country, but it’s interesting to note that the Kuroda Clan fought alongside the Imperial family during the Boshin War. This might be one of the reasons why it’s not uncommon to come across reference to the area’s historic name of Chikuzen in the city today.

Links: Chikuzen Province | Fukuoka Domain | Boshin War | Abolition of the han system

Fukuoka in 1887 (Sumiyoshi is next to the river in the mid-section)

Records of the shrine’s existence account for about 1300 years, but the shrine’s official literature claims that it was established about 1800 years ago. To understand these claims, we have to take a look at the references in the Nihon Shoki that detail the events that led to the shrine coming into existence.

The topic I’m about to introduce is one that has been covered extensively over the years, with debate as to the verification of the historical evidence that any of these figures ever actually existed - whether or not any of it is true - but the records weave an important narrative about the history of Japan, the imperial family, and the power of the kami, which are essential for the propagation of Shintoism.

The story starts during the reign of Emperor Chuai (仲哀天皇 / ちゅうあいてんの), who it is said to have ruled between 192 and 200AD. Considered to have been the fourteenth Emperor of Japan, he was noted for having his capital in Kyushu (九州) rather than Yamato (大和国). The wife of Emperor Chuai was a shamaness, Empress Jingu (神功皇后 / じんぐうこうごう), is said to have been possessed by a supernatural force on the eve of a battle with a rival clan just outside of Fukuoka.

Insisting that the Emperor abandon his war with the rival clan, the supernatural force, which is interpreted as a kami, instead demanded that he take to the water and conquer the ancient Korean kingdoms of Silla, Goguryeo, and Baekje. Scorning that idea, the emperor continued with his battle plans, and ended up being killed in the process.

Having warned her husband to pay homage to the gods, his refusal to adhere to their will was considered the main reason for his untimely demise. Thus, the Empress Consort, who was pregnant with their son at the time, ascended the throne, and carried out the request to invade the Korean kingdoms.

According to legend, she prayed to the ‘Sumiyoshi Sanjin’ prior to setting sail, which assisted with the narrative that the expedition went quite smoothly thanks to the blessing of the gods.

The legends of Jingu’s ascension to the throne, her status as a shaman, and the conquest of the Korean kingdoms is explained quite well in the articles below, as are the questions to whether they are actually based on historic fact. Nevertheless, the key take away of the legends are that Jingu’s faith in the Sumiyoshi Sanjin propelled her to greatness. This is why she is said to have had a hand in the construction of the three major Sumiyoshi Shrines, in addition to being enshrined as a deity within each of them.

Link: Jingu c. 201–269 (Encyclopedia) | Empress Jingū (Wiki)

Legend has it that upon her ‘triumphant’ return from Korea, Empress Jingu had a shrine constructed to honor the Sumiyoshi Sanjin in Fukuoka, the port for which they set off on their conquest. Whether or not we choose to take the legends as fact, which have become controversial in recent years, the rule of Empress Jingu is estimated to have been between 201 and 269, and the construction of the shrine would have taken place at some point between then.

Regardless of the veracity of the legends that led up to the establishment of the shrine, it is considered to be the ‘first’ shrine in Japan dedicated to the Sumiyoshi Sanjin (住吉三神), and today it is one of the ‘Three Great Sumiyoshi Shrines’ (日本三大住吉) alongside the Sumiyoshi Grand Shrine (住吉大社) in Osaka (大阪市) and the Sumiyoshi Shrine (住吉神社) in Shimonoseki City (下関市).

So even though we’ve established that the records of the shrine’s origin are somewhat questionable as they’re mostly based on legend, if we keep in mind that Fukuoka’s Sumiyoshi Shrine was the first, if we compare it to Osaka’s Grand Sumiyoshi Shrine, which was established in 211, we can more or less come to the conclusion that it was constructed a few years earlier.

Sumiyoshi Sanjin (住吉三神 / すみよしさんじん)

Regarded as protector deities of the ‘sea and sailing’, the ‘Sumiyoshi Sanjin’, who are often also referred to as the ‘Sumiyoshi Daijin’ (住吉大神 / すみよしだいじん), are important figures within Shintoism, with legends of their origin told in the Nihon Shoki and Kojiki.

Reflecting Fukuoka’s long history as one of Kyushu’s most important trading ports, the Sumiyoshi Sanjin are highly regarded for their ability to protect seafarers in addition to having close ties to poetry, performing arts, sumo wrestling, love, the safe delivery of babies, etc.

As the ‘first’ of over two-thousand shrines across the country dedicated to these deities, Fukuoka’s Sumiyoshi Shrine is one of the most important shrines in the country dedicated in their honor. With tales of their exploits told in the mythological tales told in the Kojiki and the Nihon Shoki, the three kami are said to have been born together (with a number of other kami) when Izanagi (伊邪那岐 / イザナキ), the god of creation, performed a purification ceremony after returning from Yomi (黄泉 / よみ), the Japanese version of Hades, or the land of the dead.

According to the myths told in the two books mentioned above, the three Sumiyoshi deities are actually the three main stars in the belt of the constellation Orion, and their relationship with seafaring likely originates from the importance of the constellation in ancient maritime navigation.

The Sumiyoshi Sanjin are as follows:

  1. Sokotsutsu (底筒男命 / そこつつのおのみこと)

  2. Nakatsutsu (中筒男命 / なかつつのおのみこと)

  3. Uwatsutsu (表筒男命 / うわつつのおのみこと)

One thing you’ll want to note about the Sumiyoshi Sanjin are the characters ‘soko’ (底 / そこ), ‘naka’ (中 / なか), and ‘uwa’ (表 / うわ) in their names, which are translated as ‘bottom’, ‘middle’ and ‘surface,’ which is interpreted as each of the kami representing the various depths of the ocean.

Link: Sumiyoshi sanjin (Wiki)

Accompanying the Sumiyoshi Sanjin in the Main Shrine are another two important figures, the first being the Goddess of the sun and the universe, one of Shinto’s most important kami, Amaterasu Ōmikami (天照大御神 / あまてらす おおかみ). The second figure, also a female deity, is the former Empress of Japan, Empress Jingu (神功皇后 / じんぐうこうごう) mentioned above, who, according to legend is the mother of Emperor Ōjin (應神天皇 / おうじんてんのう), a figure who would later be deified as Hachiman (八幡神 / はちまんしん), one of Japan’s most important religious figures.

Note: While it may be confusing for the average visitor, Jingu is enshrined within Sumiyoshi Shrines across Japan with the title Okinagatarashihime no Mikoto (気長足姫尊 / おきながたらしひめ) rather than using her original name.

Located deep within the Main Hall (本殿) are the ‘shintai’ (神体 / しんたい) for each of the five kami that are worshiped at the shrine - for those who are unaware, ‘shintai’ basically translates as the ‘sacred body of a kami’, but unlike in other places of worship around Asia, doesn’t feature a statue. Instead, the shintai is essentially a repository that most often appears in the form of an object like a mirror. The ‘Main Hall’ exists to ‘protect’ and ‘house’ the repository, and as such is off-limits to the general public.

Visitors to the Sumiyoshi Shrine are encouraged to approach the Worship Hall (拜殿), clap their hands, and announce to the kami that they have arrived, but that’s the closest you’ll be able to get to seeing what’s inside.

Architectural Design

While planning my trip to Fukuoka, one of the things that initially drew me to the Sumiyoshi Shrine were the striking similarities in architectural design of the Main Hall of the shrine to the Taoyuan Shinto Shrine here in Taiwan. Within a few minutes after my arrival however, I quickly discovered that the photos I saw prior to my arrival were somewhat misleading.

The architectural design of Fukuoka’s Sumiyoshi Shrine, like the Sumiyoshi Grand Shrine (住吉大社 / すみよしたいしゃ) in Osaka is one that stands out from all of the other shrines you’ll find in Japan with a style that is entirely unique to this branch of Shintoism.

According to historic records, Fukuoka’s Sumiyoshi Shrine as we know it today dates back to around 737 (天平9年), and is thought to be the birthplace of ‘Sumiyoshi-zukuri’ (住吉造 / すみよしづくり), one of Japan’s three major styles of architectural design (including Taisha-zukuri and Shinmei-zukuri) that predate the arrival and influence of Buddhism.

However, as I mentioned earlier, there is a bit of confusion as to whether the Grand Shrine, or this one was where the style originated. Nevertheless, there are estimates based on historic record that Sumiyoshi-style architectural design dates back to around the year 552, which means that it has been in use for around 1500 years.

That being said, despite the Sumiyoshi Shrine being a considerably aged place of worship, one of the important factors to keep in mind with this style of architectural design is that it adheres to the tradition of ‘shikinen sengu’ (神宮式年遷宮/じんぐうしきねんせんぐう), a ritual that provides for the constant renewal of its buildings. More importantly, as the article linked below explains, the ritual plays a “very important role by enabling the transfer of (our) technical skill and spirit to the next generation. This transfer maintains both our architectural heritage and over 1,000 years of artistic tradition involving the making of the divine treasures.

Link: [Soul of Japan] Shikinen Sengu, the Ritual of Rebuilding and Renewal (Japan Forward)

The ritual is one that tends to vary between shrines, with some undergoing the process every eighteen to twenty years - In the case of the Sumiyoshi Shrine, the Hall of Worship (拜殿), which is off-limits to the general public, is rebuilt every twenty-five years. The most recent ritual was held in 2010, which means that the next time the process takes place should be in 2035.

It’s important to keep in mind however that only specific buildings within the shrine are rebuilt during this process, which means that the age of all of the other sections of the massive shrine vary. Obviously, as one of the most important places of worship in Fukuoka, the shrine is extremely well-kept, and when buildings reach a certain age, they’re rebuilt, so it goes without saying that you’re not going to encounter anything even remotely close to when the shrine was originally established.

Unfortunately, something that I’ve learned (the hard way) while researching historic Japanese buildings and places of worship over the years is that you’ll often encounter the text ‘date of construction unclear’ (建立年不明), which makes writing about these places difficult.

As I move on to introduce each of the important pieces of the shrine below, I’ll do my best to offer information about their age, but in some cases, I’m afraid it’s difficult to find anything reliable with regard to the age of these things given how often they’re refurbished - I’m going to provide a map of the shrine from the official website with translations as to each of its parts, but for brevity, I won’t be detailing every aspect of the 27,000㎡ shrine as it would take far too long, so I’ll only spend time on the most important aspects that visitors should pay the most attention to.

  • Main Section of the Shrine

    1. Amatsu Shrine (天津神社 / あまつじんじゃ)

    2. Visiting Path (參道 / さんどう)

    3. Shrine Gates (鳥居 / とりい)

    4. Sukunahikona Shrine (少彥名神社 / すくなひこなじんじゃ)

    5. Purification Fountain (手水舍 /ちょうずや)

    6. Diety Gate (神門 / しんもん)

    7. Shrine Gift Shop (授与所 / じゅよじょ)

    8. Administration Office (社務所 / しゃむしょ)

    9. Main Hall (本殿 / ほんでん)

    10. Auxiliary Shrines (船玉神社‧志賀神社‧人丸神社‧菅原神社)

    11. Inari Shrine (荒熊‧白髭稲荷神社)

    12. Sumo Bronze Statue (古代力士像)

    Southern Section

    1. Ebisu Shrine (惠比須神社 / えびすじんじゃ)

    2. Ebisu Statue (恵比須神像)

    3. Wedding Hall (神徳殿)

    4. Noh Theater (能楽殿)

    5. Sumo Ring (相撲場)

The Visiting Path (參道 / さんどう)

The Visiting Path, otherwise known as the “sando” (さんどう) is an important part of the design of any Shinto Shrine and is essentially just a long pathway that leads visitors to the shrine. While these paths serve a functional purpose, they are also quite symbolic in that the “road” is the path that one takes on the road to spiritual purification. Shintoism itself is literally translated as the “Pathway to the Gods” (神道), so having a physical pathway that leads the worshiper from the realm of the profane to that of the sacred is quite important. 

At the entrance to the path, you’ll find the first of the two Shrine Gates (鳥居 / とりい), marking the space where you start your journey into the sacred space of the shrine. Along the path you’ll find a number of Stone Lanterns (石燈籠 / しゃむしょ) lined symmetrically on both sides at various intervals.

During my visit, I took a look at the dates that were etched on the lanterns, with the vast majority of them dating back to either the Meiji (明治), Taisho (大正) or Showa eras (昭和), which spans a period between 1868 - 1989. After dark, the Visiting Path is quite dark, so electric lights have been added recently to offer visitors a bit of light at night, given that the old stone lanterns aren’t used in the same way as they used to be.

One of the most serene aspects of the shrine is that it is like an oasis within the massive city, which has a population of about five and a half million residents. As the Visiting Path is probably going to be your first impression of the shrine, you’re likely to be amazed at the beautiful trees that line both sides of the path, completely obscuring the sky.

Nearing the end of the path as you approach the Deity Gate and the Purification Fountain, you’ll find a stone pole with the text: “皇族下乗” etched into the stone. The stone pole is quite interesting as it marks the spot where members of the royal family are required to get out of their vehicle before entering the shrine. Meanwhile, for the rest of us common folk, if we’re in a vehicle, we have to get out just before the Main Shrine Gate at the entrance to the Visiting Path.

The Purification Fountain (手水舍 / ちょうずしゃ)

Located to the left of the second shrine gate, you’ll find what is known as the Purification Fountain, which is an essential addition to any Shinto Shrine. Similar to the Visiting Path, the fountain is sure to appear at every shrine as it marks another important philosophical aspect to Shintoism, which is referred to as “hare and ke” (ハレとケ), or the "sacred-profane dichotomy." Like the Visiting Path, which marks the journey from the sacred to the profane, it is important for visitors who are crossing the barrier into the sacred realm to do so in the cleanliest possible manner by performing a symbolic purification ceremony at the chozuya (ちょうずしゃ) or temizuya (てみずしゃ) provided. 

Following with the color scheme of the rest of the shrine, the fountain is covered with a beautiful kirizuma-zukuri-style (切妻造 / きりづまづくり) roof, propped up by four red pillars, which are held in place by the cement that makes up the base of the fountain. The shape of the roof is likened to that of an open book that is placed face down with a high arch and two sides that slope down.

To purify yourself you should follow these steps: 

  1. Pick up a ladle with your right hand.

  2. Scoop some water from the fountain

  3. Purify the left hand.

  4. Purify the right hand.

  5. Pour some water in your left hand and put it in your mouth.

  6. Bend over and (cover your mouth as you) spit the water on the ground.

  7. Purify the handle of the ladle and then lay the dipper face down for the next person to use.

Link: How to Perform the “Temizu” Ritual (Youtube)

Stone Guardians (狛犬 / こまいぬ)

As you pass through the second Shrine Gate toward the entrance to the shrine, you’ll find the first two of the four stone guardians at the shrine. The famed ‘Lion-Dogs’ are prominent features of any Shinto Shrine and are historically related to the stone lions that act as temple guardians at other temples across Asia. Known in Japan as ‘komainu’ (狛犬 / こまいぬ), their original name translates literally as “Korean Dog” (高麗犬), referring to the ancient Korean Kingdom of “Koguryo” (高麗國), where it is thought that the tradition was passed on to Japan.

No, that’s not an ethnic slur, it’s just a literal translation.

Although there can be exceptions to the rule, these stone guardians typically appear as a pair and are placed on either side of a visiting path or at the entrance to a shrine. Most often appearing as a male and female, they are only distinguishable only by their facial expressions, with the male “a-gyo” (阿型) having an open mouth and the female “un-gyo” (吽形) having a closed mouth.

Link: Komainu Lion Dogs (Japan Visitor)

The set of stone guardians outside of the main gate are most noticeably the oldest of the two sets at the shrine, dating back to 1911 (明治44年), but if you’re looking for the date they were constructed, it might be a little difficult with all the green moss growing on them. The second set of stone-guardians are located just outside of the Main Hall (拜殿), and unlike the first set, are meant to be much more frightening. The second set of Lion-Dogs have massive muscles, like a Sumo Wrestler, and are much newer, dating back to 1964 (昭和39年).

Deity Gate (神門 / しんもん)

I’m not personally a big fan of the translation ‘Deity Gate,’ but in this case, it’s the most commonly used translation for what the Japanese refer to as a ‘Shinmon’ (神門 / しんもん). The gate is essentially the Shinto version of the Sanmon (山門 / 三門 / さんもん) that you’ll find at Buddhist temples. As part of the Buddhist influence on the architecture of Japan’s places of worship, the gate would have been a later addition to the shrine, although the date of its construction isn’t listed by the shrine.

The gate was constructed in the ‘Zuijinmon’ (随神門 / ずいしんもん) style, featuring three entrances, with ‘Door Gods’ (門神), known as ’Kadomori-no-kami’ (門守の神) on either side of the middle door, guarding the shrine. Although they are somewhat obscured, you’ll notice that they’re both well-dressed figures, who are holding bows and arrows with the figure on the left known as Yadaijin (矢大臣) while the one on the right is Sadajin (左大臣).

Like the Purification Fountain to the left, the Deity Gate features a kirizuma-style (切妻造) roof, which is a two-sided sloping gable roof. On the front side of the gate, the roof extends well beyond the entrance, while on the rear-side it’s not as long. The middle entrance in the shrine features a bronze plaque with the words ‘Sumiyoshi Shrine’ (住吉宮), which for those of you with a keen eye will notice that the Kanji for ‘miya’ (宮 / みや) is used instead of ‘jinja’ (神社 / じんじゃ).

Administration Office (社務所 / しゃむしょ)

As you enter the gate to the shrine, you’ll see the Main Hall directly in front of you while to your direct left, you’ll find the Shrine’s Administration Office, known in Japanese as a ‘shamusho’ (社務所 / しゃむしょ).

Within the building, the shrine’s priests, priestesses, and other shrine personnel rest when they are not performing their sacred duties. Given that it is a large building, it is also used as a space to hold lectures, or for anyone who has a special request for prayers or rites.

In some cases, the Administration Office also features a ‘Public Counter’ (授与所 / じゅよじょ) or a gift shop where visitors can receive (purchase) Shrine branded tokens and amulets. At the Sumiyoshi Shrine though, the Administration Office and the ‘Public Counter’ are separated, with the counter located to the direct right of the Deity Gate in a building of its own.

Obviously, given that this building is an administration area and resting space, it’s not one where tourists are permitted to enter. The shrine doesn’t offer much information about the date of the building’s construction, but it does appear to be relatively new.

The building is constructed of wood, and features a beautiful roof. One of the most architecturally significant aspects of the building, which contributes to the beauty of the roof, is the addition of a covered-front porch, known as a karahafu door (唐破風). This particular style of design is indicative of Japanese architecture dating back to the Heian Period (平安時代). These so-called ‘porches’, extend from the front of the building and have pillars holding up a section of the roof that connects to the rest of the building, but at the same time is structurally separate from the rest of the building. This style of design is a common architectural characteristic found in Japanese castles, temples, and shrines, and makes the building stand out considerably more thanks to its addition. 

Main Hall (本殿 / ほんでん)

The Main Hall, which is the main attraction of the shrine for most visitors is probably the oldest part of the shrine, and is where I’ll spend the most time describing the architectural design of the building. The Main Hall was reconstructed with a donation of two-thousand pieces of silver from the Daimyo (大名) of Chikuzen Province (筑前国), Kuroda Nagamasa (黑田長政 / くろだ ながまさ) in 1623 (元和9年).

Coincidentally, the Main Hall was celebrating its four hundredth anniversary during my visit, but as mentioned above, it looks quite new given that it is fixed up every twenty-five years. That being said, as a National-Level Protected Cultural Property (国指定重要文化財), the Main Hall is currently the oldest living example of ‘Sumiyoshi-style’ of architectural design, predating the Sumiyoshi Grand Shrine in Osaka, which was reconstructed in 1810.

If (like myself prior to writing this article) you didn’t know much about Sumiyoshi-style design, you’d be forgiven if you thought the building was more or less the same as a typical Hall of Worship (拜殿 / はいでん) combined together with a Main Hall (本殿 / ほんでん). Looking at the building from the front, it does appear to like the traditional Hall of Worship, known in Japan as the ‘haiden’ (はいでん), while the rear section, looks like a ‘honden’ (ほんでん).

Some of the confusion as to what’s going on here is likely because for the average visitor, you’re only permitted to approach the front section of the Hall of Worship to announce your arrival to the kami, and while you’re there, you can check out what’s inside, but for photographers like myself, you’re not permitted to take photos of the interior of the building.

Similarly, the rear section, which is the most indicative aspect of Sumiyoshi-style architecture is completely obscured by a high fence, which is unfortunate, but also necessary given its historic importance.

The front section of the building - which as I stated earlier architecturally resembles one of the last remaining Shinto Shrines here in Taiwan from the Japanese Colonial-era - features a worship room with wings connected on both the eastern and the western sides. Save for the concrete base that elevates the building off of the ground, the front section was constructed primarily with wood (likely cypress), and was constructed with a genius network of pillars and trusses in the ceiling that work together to support the weight of the roof, which extends well-beyond the base of the building.

Constructed using the ubiquitous irimoya-zukuri (入母造 / いりもやづくり) style, the front section of the building features a high sloping kirizuma-style (切妻造) roof, while both of the wings on the left and right join together with their own similarly-designed roofs to create what appears to be a dual-layered roof. One of the benefits of having the wings on either side of the building when it comes to the main roof is that they allow for cross beams to extend beyond the main section and support the much larger roof, which extends well-beyond the ‘moya’ (母屋), or the base of the building. Having them there basically means that the building requires fewer pillars within the floor space of the main building, allowing for a much more open space.

That being said, the floor space within the front section is surprisingly a lot smaller than you might expect when you’re looking at the building from the front, which is one of the design characteristics of Sumiyoshi-style architecture most people don’t understand. Thus, instead of having a traditional ‘haiden’ and ‘honden’, in this case there is only a ‘honden’ (本殿), which is split into two sections known as the ‘nave’ (gejin / 外陣 / げじん) and the ‘sanctuary’ (naijin / 内陣 / ないじん).

The front section, or the ‘nave’, essentially plays a similar role as the ‘Deity Gate’ that you have to enter to reach the interior of the shrine space in that it acts as an entrance with a high ‘mizugaki’ (瑞垣 /みずがき) fence that surrounds the other three sides of the building. Unlike the Deity Gate, however, there is a bit of floor space in the nave that allows for ceremonies to be held within.

At the rear, you’ll find the rectangular-shaped sanctuary, which is connected directly to the roof of the nave. The rear building is elevated higher off of the ground with a set of stairs that priests walk up in order to reach the inner sanctum. The roof of the building was constructed using the ‘V’ shaped tsumairi-zukuri (妻入造 / きりづまづくり). Facing in the opposite direction of the front part of the roof, there are some 3D-like geometric shapes taking place with the combination of the two roofs, but you can really only see what’s happening in the rear if you walk around to the other sides of the building to check it out.

While the shape of the roof is quite simple, it is decorated with katsuogi (鰹木/かつおぎ) and chigi (千木 / ちぎ) ornaments. To the naked eye, they may just seem like unimportant decorations, but they have traditionally been used to differentiate Shinto Shrines from Buddhist Temples in Japan as well as indicating the ‘kami’ that are enshrined within.

The katsuogi are the long timber-like pieces of wood that rest atop the flat base of the roof. An even number of them indicates that a female divinity resides within the building, while an odd number signifies a male. In this case, there are three of them, which indicates that the kami enshrined within are male. Likewise the ‘chigi’ can be cut either horizontally or vertically, known as uchi-sogi (内削ぎ) and soto-sogi (外削ぎ), respectively. How they’re cut is another way to identify the kami, so It should then be no surprise that the ‘chigi’ at this shrine are cut vertically in the ‘uchi-soto’ style as the katsuogi mentioned above already indicates a male divinity.

Finally, the Main Hall, as with the Deity Gate are painted with a beautiful combination of vermilion and white, a color scheme which for a lot of Japanese easily identifies a Sumiyoshi Shrine, however, as you’ll notice below, one of the largest auxiliary shrines located on the grounds, the Inari Shrine, is also known for its similar color scheme, which matches it well with the main shrine.

Auxiliary Shrines (攝社)

As the ‘ichinomiya’ (一の宮 / いちのみや) of Fukuoka Prefecture, the Sumiyoshi Shrine is home to a number of smaller auxiliary shrines, known as ‘setsumatsusha’ (攝末社 / せつまつしゃ), located to the sides and the rear of the main shrine. The term ‘setsumatsusha’ is a conjunction of the terms ‘sessha (攝社 / せっしゃ) and ‘massha’ (末社 / まっしゃ), which refer to the miniature shrines you’ll often find located within a larger shrine. In most cases, the kami who are enshrined within these spaces share a relationship with those enshrined within the larger shrine space, and offer visitors a broader experience when visiting a shrine.

Link: setsumatsusha | 摂末社 (Wiki)

The Sumiyoshi Shrine is home to eight of these auxiliary shrines within the walls of sacred space of the shrine. Each of the shrines vary in size, but for the most part they are just mini versions of a larger shrine building and are elevated off of the ground on stone pedestals.

In this case, the kami enshrined within these smaller shrines are influential figures within Shintoism, but it’s important to remember that each of them are related to the Sumiyoshi Shrine in that they share a relation to the sea, protection, commerce, etc.

I’ve listed each of the shrines, starting with their names and then following with the kami enshrined within each of them. I’ll also link to the profile of each of them for those of you who are interested in learning more about them.

‘Sessha shrines’ (攝社)

  1. Funadama Shrine (船玉神社 / ふなだまじんじゃ) - Sarutahiko (猿田彥)

  2. Shiga Shrine (志賀神社 / しかじんじゃ) - Watatsumi (綿津見三神 / わたつみのかみ)

Massha shrines’ (末社)

  1. Sukunahikona Shrine (少彥名神社 / すくなひこなじんじゃ) - Sukunahokona (少彥名 / すくなひこな)

  2. Inari Shrine (稻荷神社 / いなりじんじゃ) - Ukanomitama (宇迦之御魂神 /うかのみたまのかみ)

  3. Ebisu Shrine (惠比須神社 / えびすじんじゃ) - Kotoshiro-nushi-no-kami (事代主神 / ことしろぬしのかみ)

  4. Tenmangu Shrine (天滿宮 / てんまんぐう) - Sugawara no Michizane (菅原道真 / すがわらのみちざね)

  5. Hitomaru Shrine (人丸神社 / ひとまるじんじゃ) - Kakinomoto no Hitomaru (柿本人麿 / かきのもとのひとまろ)

  6. Amatsu Shrine (天津神社 / あまつじんじゃ) - Izanagi (伊奘諾尊 / いさなきのみこと)

Of specific note, the Inari Shrine is the largest of these auxiliary shrines within the main shrine grounds, located directly to the left of the Main Hall. As is the case with almost every Inari Shrine, it features beautiful red shrine gates and the iconic stone fox guardians.

While the Inari Shrine is the largest auxiliary structure the Amatsu Shrine, on the other hand is the only auxiliary shrines located outside of the main shrine space, and also has the largest amount of space reserved for it. Located next to the river, visitors will likely notice it across the street from the first of the shrine gates. Given it’s location, most people are unlikely to realize that an important part of the Sumiyoshi Shrine.

Ancient Sumo Wrestler Statue (古代力士像)

Located to the right of the Main Hall, you’ll find a statue of an opposing figure, which is known as the ‘Ancient Sumo Wrestler.’ Visitors might be a little confused as to why there is a statue of a sumo wrestler at such an important shrine, but once again, according to legends, there’s a purpose.

It is said that when Empress Jingu returned from the conquest of the Korean kingdoms (mentioned above), she dedicated Sumo Wrestling (相撲/すもう) and Yabusame (流鏑馬 /やぶさめ), the Japanese art of mounted archery, to the Sumiyoshi Sanjin. Over the years, the Sumiyoshi Sanjin have become regarded as the patron kami of poetry, the performing arts, and sumo wrestling, which is why you’ll find a Sumo Wrestling Ring and one of Kyushu’s most important Noh Theater venues within the precinct.

Naturally, as an important place of worship for sumo, the shrine plays host to an annual sumo tournament in October and this is also why whenever a wrestler is crowned as the Yokozuna champion (橫綱 / よこづな), he is sure to pay the shrine a visit to pay respect.

The statue of the ancient sumo wrestler was crafted by local artists Nobutaka Nakamura (中村信喬) and Hiromine Nakamura (中村弘峰) in 2013. The statue is a large standing figure, and it is said that if you press your hands against his, you’ll be able to absorb some of his strength.

Getting There

 

Address: 3-1-51, Sumiyoshi, Hakata-ku, Fukuoka (福岡縣福岡市博多區住吉3-1-51)

GPS: 23.922220, 120.682080

MAPCODE: 13289837

Conveniently located a short distance from the Hakata Railway Station, visiting the Sumiyoshi Shrine, which is like a lush oasis within the busy downtown area of Fukuoka, is quite simple.

If you’re walking from the Hakata Railway Station, which is also serviced by the Fukuoka Subway System, you’ll want to exit the station from (or near) the West 21 Exit (西21出口), and walk straight down Sumiyoshi Dori for about two blocks until you reach the shrine. The walk is quite straight-forward, so it’s not likely that you’ll get lost.

That being said, for the best experience, I recommend entering the shrine through it’s front entrance rather than walking through the parking lot at the rear, so you’ll want to keep walking straight until you see the signs that send you in the direction of the shrine.

Bus

The closest bus stop to the shrine is the Sumiyoshi Bus Stop (住吉站), which is located a short distance from the front entrance, or the southern entrance to the shrine. If you prefer to take a bus, the Sumiyoshi Bus Stop is serviced by the following routes: #5, #9, #10, #11, #15, #16, #17, #19, #44, #50, #58, #63, #65, #88, #105, #214, #L

For the timetable of bus routes, I recommend you check out the Nishitetsu Website (西鉄バス), however, one of the easiest methods to map out your route would be to input your location into Google Maps, and then your destination, which will give you a number of options, including the buses that you’ll need to take to get there.

Hours: Open daily from 09:00 - 17:00

Website: Sumiyoshi Shrine (Japanese)

I ended up visiting the Sumiyoshi Shrine on one of the last days of my trip to Fukuoka, but I’m glad I didn’t miss out on this one - The expansive shrine is like a tropical forest within the city and is a peaceful refuge from the business of Kyushu’s largest metropolitan area. Located a short walk away from one of the country’s busiest transportation hubs, you’d be excused for completely forgetting where you were while exploring this natural space.

As one of Fukuoka’s most important shrines, it is an important place of worship for the people in the city, as well as acting as one of the head shrines of the more than two-thousand shrines dedicated to the Sumiyoshi Deities in Japan - so if you’re in the city for any length of time, I recommend stopping by the shrine for a quick visit, and then of course, you should head over to Hakata Station to enjoy some of the city’s famous ramen in one of the many restaurants on the Hakata Noodle Street!

References

  1. 住吉神社 (神社網頁)

  2. 住吉神社 (福岡市経済観光文化局)

  3. 住吉神社 (日文) | 住吉神社 (中文) | Sumiyoshi Shrine (Wiki)

  4. 住吉三神 (日文) | 住吉三神 (中文) | Sumiyoshi sanjin (Wiki)

  5. 住吉神社の御朱印~筑前国一宮‧日本三大住吉 (御朱印のじかん)

  6. 最古老的住吉在福岡!博多住吉神社:一起摸摸七福神討吉利 (Japaholic)

  7. Sumiyoshi Shrine: Traditional Architecture and Powerful Sumo (Japan Journeys)

  8. Shrine of peace and nature, Sumiyoshi in Hakata, Fukuoka (Voyapon)

  9. Hakata’s Sumiyoshi Shrine – The Oldest Shrine in Japan (Vegetarian’s Japan Guide)


Ogon Shrine (黃金神社)

Writing as extensively as I do about the history of Taiwan’s Japanese colonial era, I’ve been asked several times over the years why I’ve yet to publish anything about the remnants of the ‘Golden Shrine’ near the popular tourist town of Jiufen (九分). Given that I’ve written about a handful of the other shrines that remain (in some form) in Taiwan, as well as publishing articles about Stegosaurus Ridge (劍龍稜) and the Teapot Mountain (無耳茶壺山) hikes - which offer up a birds eye view of the shrine - its understandable that one might wonder why I haven’t covered what has arguably become one of Taiwan’s most well-known Shinto Shrines.

Like most people, I eagerly paid a visit to the Golden Museum (黃金博物館) in Jinguashi (金瓜石) shortly after it’s official opening. However, that visit came shortly after I arrived in the country, and like most newbies, I didn’t really have much idea about what was going on. Thinking back, although I didn’t actually realize it at the time, that particular visit may have been my first experience exploring something related to the Japanese-era.

The popularity of the museum in its early days meant that the area was absolutely packed with tourists on weekends, and as the shrine was an important part of any visit to the area, it was also a pretty popular spot. At that time though, photography was more or less just a hobby for me, and to tell the truth, I was mesmerized by the mountains, so I didn’t didn’t pay all that much attention to the shrine.

I did end up visiting once again several years later, but on that occasion, the shrine was just a short detour on a hike through the mountains, so I just stopped by for a quick minute before continuing further up the trail. That, unfortunately would have been my best opportunity to get the photos I needed, but I missed out, which is something I’ve regretted for quite a few years.

In 2017, the path to the shrine was gated shut and for the next five years it underwent a period of restoration, which helped to bring parts of the shrine (that were unscrupulously knocked down) back to life. It was also a project that saw the planting of hundreds of cherry trees, which in the future should make the shrine an even more popular spot for tourists.

All of that being said, I’m actually relieved that I didn’t write about the shrine after my second visit. By that time I had been in Taiwan for several years, but the amount of knowledge I had accumulated with regard to Taiwan’s history, the Japanese-era, and Shinto Shrines was no where near what I accumulated now after years of research and experience writing about these things. Thus, the information I’m able to provide readers with today will comprehensively combine the history of the shrine, the community that surrounds it, and its architectural design.

Closed for half a decade, the Golden Shrine reopened to the public in late 2022, and its reemergence has been an important catalyst for attracting tourists back to the Golden Museum, once again becoming a popular spot for all of the loal Instagrammers looking for a fresh location to take photos!

However, even though most people are quite content that the shrine has finally been reopened, there has also been some criticism in some circles regarding the length of time that the shrine was closed. More specifically, critics have openly questioned why the shrine wasn’t completely restored to its original likeness, similar to how the Luye Shinto Shrine (鹿野神社) in Taitung was brought back to life.

Personally, I find myself relatively content with the work that has been done to restore the shrine (minus a few minor gripes), and I’m not particularly sure why anyone would want to restore it to its original condition. As a ‘ruined’ site, the shrine allows us to experience a piece of Taiwan’s modern history, but also provides a lesson as to the effort to erase memories of the Japanese-era in the half-century since the Second World War came to an end.

I’d also argue that it would be relatively pointless to completely reconstruct the shrine if they weren’t going to invite the ‘kami’ to return, something that might be a touchy subject in certain circles. Instead, I’m content that there are a number of well-preserved historic photos of the shrine that allow us to see how it would have originally appeared during the Japanese-era, some of which I’ll be sharing with you today.

As I move on, I’m going to start with an introduction of the history of the shrine, and the Jinguashi gold mines. I’ll then follow with a brief timeline of events, and then I’ll provide details about the shrine’s architectural design, so that you can better understand what you’ll see if and when you visit.

Now that the shrine has been reopened, visitors to Taiwan have a ‘golden’ opportunity (forgive the pun) to visit this amazing piece of Taiwanese history. Making that golden opportunity even more attractive is that any visit to the area can may also include with a number of other popular tourist destination including Jiufen Old Street (九份老街), the Golden Waterfall (黃金瀑布), the Gold Museum (黃金博物館), or any of the hiking trails on the mountains nearby. A day-trip, or even a weekend trip to the area is a rewarding one, and is something that every tourist visiting Taiwan does at least once!

Ogon Shrine (黃金神社 / おうごんじんじゃ)

Over the span of Taiwan’s fifty year Japanese colonial era, there were about two hundred Shinto Shrines constructed around the island. The first of them was the Kaizan Shinto Shrine (開山神社/かいざんじんじゃ) in Tainan, which just so happened to be established on the the original site of the Yanping King Shrine (延平郡王祠). The Chinese-style temple had originally honored the pirate-king Koxinga (鄭成功), but if we’re being picky, the first shrine constructed in Taiwan was technically the Ogon Shrine, located on the northern coast of the island.

Whether it was the ‘first’ or the ‘second’ shrine in Taiwan probably isn’t all that important, but as one of Taiwan’s earliest Shinto Shrines, it has a history that dates back more than 125 years - but I can’t really explain the history of the shrine to you without first providing some basic information about the area where it was constructed, who constructed it, and why it was constructed, because all of these things are very much linked together.

Links: Fairy Cave Temple, Keelung Shrine, Taoyuan Shrine, Luye Shrine, Hualien Shrine, Taitung Shrine, Tamsui Shrine, Yilan Shrine, Yuanshan Shrine, Tungxiao Shrine, Kaizan Shrine

When the Japanese arrived in Taiwan in 1895, it’s safe to say that the situation they were confronted with was pretty hostile - The fleeing Qing forces did their best to sabotage and slow down efforts to take administrative control of the island, and the local inhabitants put up quite a bit of resistance as well. Even worse was the environment, which in the end did the most harm to the Japanese armed forces who were met with deadly foes named malaria, pneumonia, dysentery, cholera and smallpox.

By 1897, the government established ‘Taihoku-ken’ (臺北縣 / たいほくけん), an administrative space that encompassed what we know today as New Taipei, Taipei, Keelung, Taoyuan, Hsinchu and Yilan, in an effort to get the island’s major settlements under some kind of control.

Looking to take control of the island’s rich natural resources, in 1896, the colonial government passed the Taiwan Mining Regulations Act (台灣礦業規則), which limited the extraction of Taiwan’s minerals solely to Japanese nationals. One of the first areas allocated for mining operations was Keelung Mountain (雞籠山) on the island’s north coast.

The mountain was initially partitioned into different sections, with the eastern side leased out to Tanaka Choubee (田中長兵衛 / たなか ちょうべえ), who headed the Tanaka Group (田中組) and after about a year of preparation, mining started in the area in 1897, which by that time was known as Kinkaseki (金瓜石/きんかせき).

Note: Interestingly, the name ‘Jinguashi’ (金瓜石) only predated the Japanese era by about two years. Records indicate that around 1893, a farmer was exploring the area and discovered a gold nugget, which soon attracted a bunch of other people looking for gold. The nugget was reportedly the size of a melon, thus the name.

At its heart, Shintoism is a philosophy that promotes a quality of ‘oneness’ with the natural world, and respect for nature. That being said, Taiwan’s development required a considerable amount of natural resources, so when it came to mining, something that is destructive to the natural environment, it was important to also pay homage to the spirits of the mountain. Thus, in 1898 (明治31年), the first generation ‘Ogon Shrine’ (第一代黃金神社) was established by the Tanaka Group.

With nine pits excavated at the Kinkaseki Mines (金瓜山礦場), as mining efforts gradually went moved into the mountain, it was discovered that gold wasn’t the only treasure in the hills, but there was also vast amounts of silver, copper and sulfur. Eventually the Kinkaseki Mines would become one of the most important mining operations in the Japanese empire.

That being said, economic stagnation caused by the First World War drove the international value of raw materials down for the duration of the war. This created financial issues for the Tanaka Group, which ended up restructuring its business and selling its mining rights to the Tanaka Mining Company (田中礦業株式會社) in the 1920s. Then, about a decade later, due to a lack of capital, the land lease was sold off to the Nippon Mining Company (日本鑛業株式會社), which officially changed its name to the Taiwan Mining Company (台湾鉱業株式会社) in 1933 (昭和8年).

Looking at historic photos of the shrine, one thing you might notice is that at some point the architectural design changed completely - Even though there are only a few remaining photos of the original shrine, what we can observe from them is that the shrine went from something that could be considered rather basic to a replication of one of Japan’s oldest and most important Shinto Shrines, the Ise Grand Shrine (伊勢神宮 / いせじんぐう).

Said to be about two-thousand years old, the architectural design of the Ise Grand Shrine is one that constantly changes. Known in Japan as ‘Yuitsu-shinmei' (唯一神明造 / ゆいいつしんめいづくり), is an ancient architectural style that imitates early rice granaries. The important thing to remember here is that the word ‘yuitsu’ (唯一) translates literally as ‘only’ or ‘unique’ which means that the Grand Shrine is the only place of worship that is permitted to use this style today. Thus, the Ogon Shrine, like many other Shinto Shrines across Japan, uses a variation known as ‘shinmei' (神明造 / しんめいづくり) design.

The reason I’m bringing this up this now is because the Ise Shrine, and other shrines that make use of the ‘shinmei’ design, often appear relatively new (despite their age), due to the fact that important sections of the shrine are reconstructed every few decades, which I’ll explain in more detail later.

Link: Ise Grand Shrine (Wiki)

When the Taiwan Mining Company took control of the Kinkaseki Mines in the early 1930s, they put forward an expansion project that would see the reconstruction of the shrine’s Hall of Worship. The Second Generation Ogon Shrine (第二代黃金神社) opened in 1936 (昭和11年), after a period of reconstruction, marking an important occasion for the local community, which was, to say the least, thriving at the time. Nevertheless, given that time frame and the relatively short lifespan of shrines that make use of this architectural style, it was likely due for another face lift in the mid-1950s, something that would ultimately would never take place.

Interestingly, the three deities, or ‘kami’ (神 / かみ), that were enshrined at the Golden Shrine differed somewhat from those that you would have typically encountered at the other shrines across Taiwan, but with more than a million ‘kami’, you would have obviously come across a wide variety of figures in the two-hundred shrines that were constructed around the country.

Keeping in mind that Shintoism was more or less a ‘foreign’ religion to the people of Taiwan, in the early days of the colonial era, the Japanese tended to enshrine deities that were easily identifiable with the people of Taiwan. This effort could be interpreted as a means to ease the people into their new state religion, or it could have just been a reflection of the situation on the island at the time, but the kami that became the most common at shrines in Taiwan shared similarities with the folk religion deities that people here identified with.

The Three Deities of Cultivation (開拓三神 / かいたくさんじん), for example, became quite common within Taiwan’s Shrines as they were deities known for their skills with regard to ‘nation-building’, ‘farming’, ‘business’ and ‘medicine’. Even though it is also common to find shrines dedicated in their honor back in Japan, they were especially important in Taiwan due to what they represented, which shared parallels with the Earth God (土地公 / 福德正神), who remains one of the most important religious figures in Taiwan today.

That being said, the ‘kami’ that became the most common within Taiwan’s shrines would have been housed within the larger places of worship, which focused more on the general public, such as the Taoyuan Shinto Shrine (桃園神社). Shrines like the Golden Shrine in contrast were a bit more flexible with the deities who were invited to take up residence. That flexibility allowed them to focus more on themes that were important with regard to the environment, local economy and the community living in the area.

To give you an example, the kami that was enshrined at the Taipei Water Shrine, known today as the Yuanshan Shinto Shrine (圓山水神社), was one who focused on water. Thus, as you can imagine, at the Golden Shrine, the deities would have focused on mining and facets of the environment.

The three kami that were enshrined at the Golden Shrine were:

  1. Ōkuninushi (大國魂大神 / おおくにたまのかみ)

  2. Kanayamahiko (金山毘古神 (金山彦命 / かなやまひこのかみ)

  3. Sarutahiko (猿田彥大神 / さるたひこのかみ)

Starting with ‘Okuninushi-no-Kami’, one of ‘three deities of cultivation’ mentioned above, he is regarded as the god of nation-building, agriculture, medicine and protection. The next figure, one of the ‘Great Deities’ (大神) of Shintoism, ‘Sarutahiko Okami’, is the leader of the kunitsukami (国つ神), or the ‘gods of the earth’. Finally ‘Kanayamahiko-no-kami', is the god of mines.

As you can see, in each of these three cases, the selection of deities speaks to the specialized focus of the shrine with regard to its focus on the land and the mines on the mountains that surrounded it.

Note: I should probably also point out that each of these three deities are quite old and are the subject of myths and legends detailed in the Kojiki (古事記 / こじき) and the Nihon Shoki (日本書紀 / にほんしょき), which date back to the early 8th Century. Thus, they share a relationship with the origins of the earth, the islands that make up Japan, and the mythical ancestry of kami that were spawned from Izanagi and Izanami.

Coincidentally, the shrine’s annual matsuri festival (祭 / まつり) was conveniently held on June 28th, which just so happened to be the same date as Jiufen’s annual Mazu Pilgrimage (媽祖遶境), making the date a pretty important one for the people of Jiufen and Jinguashi, and was one where all the laborers and students were given a day off of work to celebrate.

Matsuri time at the Golden Shrine

Segueing back into the shrine’s history, when the Japanese-era came to an end in 1945 (民國34年), mining operations at Jinguashi were put on hold for a short time until the Chinese Nationalists were able to figure out how to get production back online. In 1946, the Taiwan Gold and Copper Office (臺灣金銅鑛籌備處) was established by the government in order to restructure mining operations on the island. Much of Jinguashi’s wealth ended up being dedicated to funding the Nationalists (futile) effort to defeat the Communists in the Chinese Civil War (國共內戰).

When Chiang Kai-Shek’s Nationalist Government fled to Taiwan, bringing with them almost two million refugees, life on the island changed almost overnight, and over the next several decades the Taiwanese people would have to endure what would become one of the world’s longest periods of Martial Law, known locally as the White Terror Period (白色恐怖).

Over the next few decades, Taiwan’s new inhabitants exhibited a considerable amount of anti-Japanese sentiment, and it was during that time that the vast majority of buildings that were related to Japanese culture or religion were vandalized, torn down, or replaced.

Constructed on the side of a mountain.

You could probably argue that the saving grace when it came to the Golden Shrine was that it was constructed on the remote side of a mountain, so unlike the majority of Taiwan’s other shrines, it was never really in any danger of getting in the way of development. That being said, the shrine did fall victim to vandalism over the years, leaving the site in ruins. Going back to a point I made earlier though, it is unclear as to whether or not the main parts of the shrine were vandalized or if they just suffered from lack of up-keep.

Nevertheless, several decades after the war ended, natural resources within Jinguashi’s mines were more or less depleted, and with the decrease in the international market value of copper, the Taiwan Mining Corporation was ultimately forced to declare bankruptcy.

Then, in what may come across as a very random decision, the Taiwan Power Corporation (臺灣電力公司) took ownership of the land in 1985 (民國74年), but not much could be done on their part to save the business operations, so mining in Jinguashi came to an abrupt end in 1987 (民國76年), leaving not only the shrine in ruins, but the entire mining community abandoned.

If we then fast forward to the turn of the new millennium, the Golden Shrine was selected as one of the top ten heritage sites in Taipei County - and even though it was simply an abandoned and ruined shrine, it was ranked on the list of one-hundred most important historical sites in Taiwan.

Like the shrine, the mining community fell into disrepair, but due to its historic value, the Taiwan Power Company in conjunction with the Taiwan Sugar Corporation and the Taipei County Government (Currently New Taipei City) jointly funded a restoration project to reopen the mining community as the ‘Jinguashi Gold Museum’ (黃金博物館).

Link: For some great photos of the shrine prior to its restoration, check out this article: Ōgon Shrine from Spectral Codex.

Shortly thereafter, the Golden Shrine was recognized as a protected heritage site (直轄市定古蹟), and despite it still being under the ownership of the Taiwan Power Company, it was put under the operational control of the Gold Museum, and the government was tasked with coming up with plans to have it restored.

It took about a decade, but the restoration project for the shrine officially started in 2017, with the shrine closed to the public for the duration of the project, which ultimately lasted more than anyone expected.

Reopening to the public in late 2022, the Golden Shrine has reemerged as one of New Taipei’s most iconic tourist destinations, and its rebirth seems to be one that has been celebrated by quite a few people as it has become an Instagram hot spot with people from all over the country flocking to the area to check it out.

If all of that history was a little too much for you, before I start describing the architectural design of the shrine, as I mentioned earlier, I’ll provide a helpful, yet brief timeline of events regarding the shrine:

Timeline

  • 1895 (明治28年) - The Japanese take control of Taiwan at the end of the Sino-Japanese War with the signing of the Treaty of Shimonoseki (馬關條約 / 下関条約).

  • 1896 (明治29年) - The Colonial Government enacts the Taiwan Mining Regulations (台灣礦業規則) policy in an effort to standardize and start the extraction of the island’s resources.

  • 1897 (明治30年) - The Tanaka Group starts a mining operation in Kinkaseki / Jinguashi (金瓜石田中鑛山事務所).

  • 1898 (明治31年) - The First Generation Ogon Shrine (第一代黃金神社) is established by the mining company on a flat section of the mountain’s eastern cliffs (大金瓜岩嶂東).

  • 1905 (明治38年) - The first deposits of gold and silver are discovered at the mines in Jinguashi.

  • 1913 (大正2年) - The Tanaka group purchases the Mudan Mines (牡丹坑鑛) on the opposite side of the mountain and merges it with the Jinguashi Mine.

  • 1922 - A mansion is constructed within the Japanese section of the mining community in Jinguashi in anticipation for the royal tour of Taiwan by the crown prince. The tour never actually took place however due to the death of Emperor Taisho (大正皇帝) and the ascension of Emperor Showa (昭和皇帝) to the throne.

  • 1933 (昭和10年) - Ownership of the mines is transferred to the Nippon Mining Company (日本鑛業株式會社).

  • 1936 (昭和11年) - The Colonial Government’s “Japanization” or ‘forced assimilation’ Kominka (皇民化運動) policy comes into effect in Taiwan. The same year, the mining company expanded the shrine into the Second Generation Ogon Shrine (第二代黃金神社).

  • 1945 (昭和20年) - The Second World War comes to a conclusion and Japan is forced to surrender control of Taiwan.

  • 1946 (民國35年) - The Taiwan Gold and Copper Office (臺灣金銅鑛籌備處) is set up by the Nationalist government in order to restructure mining operations on the island.

  • 1949 (民國38年) - Chiang Kai-Shek (蔣介石) and the Nationalist government retreat to Taiwan, bringing with them several million refugees displaced by the Chinese Civil War. 

  • 1955 (民國44年) - Mining operations are restructured into the Taiwan Mining Corporation (臺灣金銅鑛物局).

  • 1973 (民國62年) - With gold, silver and copper resources drying up in the mountains, the mining company attempts open-pit mining, and shifts much of the operations on the mountain into smelting and the processing of copper.

  • 1985 (民國74年) - Due to declining resources in the mine and the decrease in the international market value of copper, the Taiwan Mining Corporation is forced to declare bankruptcy with the Taiwan Power Corporation (臺灣電力公司) taking ownership of the land.

  • 1987 (民國76年) - Mining operations in Jinguashi come to an end with all of the mines shut down.

  • 2000 (民國89年) - The Golden Shrine is selected as one of the top ten heritage sites in Taipei County and is ranked #94 on the list of a hundred historical sites in Taiwan.

  • 2004 (民國93年) - The Taipei County Government in conjunction with the Taiwan Power Company and Taiwan Sugar Corporation jointly open the ‘Gold Museum’ (黃金博物館) within the historic mining community and processing areas.

  • 2007 (民國96年) - The Golden Shrine is recognized as Taipei County (Currently New Taipei City) protected heritage site (直轄市定古蹟) with ownership of the site still controlled by Taiwan Power Corporation, the site is put under the management of the Gold Museum.

  • 2010 (民國99年) - The International Armistice Peace Memorial Park (國際終戰和平紀念園區) is established on the site of the infamous Kinkaseki Prisoner of War Camp (金瓜石米英捕虜勞役所).

  • 2017 (民國106年) - A long-planned restoration of the Golden Shrine gets underway in order to preserve the remnants of the abandoned shrine.

  • 2022 (民國111年) - Restoration of the shrine is completed and is officially re-opened to the public after being closed for five years.

Architectural Design

If you’ve ever had the opportunity to visit some shrines in Japan, you’re likely to have noticed that even though their architectural design may vary, but one of the things that remains the same in almost every case is in their their spatial design. The layout of the vast majority of shrines includes several important features that are meant to assist visitors on their road from the ‘profane’ to the ‘sacred.’

Obviously, the ‘sacred journey’ that each visitor embarks upon when they visit a shrine depends on how how much space was reserved for the construction of the shrine. This may come across as somewhat confusing, but when it comes to shrines and their size, the amount of land reserved for a shrine doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll find a large shrine, while on the other hand a lack of space doesn’t mean you’ll find a small shrine. So, even though the Ogon Shrine would have been considered a relatively small shrine in terms of the buildings you would have encountered, it benefited from being located on the side of a mountain, so a lack of space was never really an issue.

Unfortunately, as the shrine has been abandoned and in ruins for quite some time, many of its original pieces have been lost to time, which makes it difficult for most visitors to imagine what it would have originally appeared.

In this section, I’ll focus on the architectural design of the shrine and each of the important pieces that would have made it complete, which I hope helps anyone interested in visiting better understand what they’re experiencing when they visit the shrine today.

Original layout of the shrine from blueprints provided by the New Taipei City Bureau of Cultural Affairs.

For clarity sake, I’m breaking up each of these important pieces into their own section so that I can better introduce their purpose and aspects of their design. Some of this information might be considered too detailed for the average reader, so I’ll attempt to make it as painless as possible. 

Link: Architecture and Sacred Spaces in Shinto (Berkeley ORIAS)

The Visiting Path (參道 / さんどう)

The Visiting Path, otherwise known as the “sando” (さんどう), is one of the most important parts of the design of any Shinto Shrine. As mentioned above, the space reserved for a shrine tends to vary, but given that this shrine is located on a mountain, it is afforded a much longer Visiting Path than most of the other shrines that were constructed in Taiwan.

While these paths serve a functional purpose, they are also quite symbolic in that the “road” is the path that one takes on the road to spiritual purification. Shintoism itself is literally translated as the “Pathway to the Gods” (神道), so having a physical path that leads the worshiper from the realm of the profane to that of the sacred is quite important.

Traditionally, the Visiting Path to a Shinto Shrine is lined symmetrically on both sides with Stone Lanterns (石燈籠), known as ‘toro’ (しゃむしょ), and although some of the lanterns at the shrine have been destroyed, there are still several sets that remain today.

One of the things you’ll want to note about each of the lanterns is that the date that they were donated to the shrine is etched into the stone on the rear of the lantern’s base. Most of the lanterns at the shrine were vandalized at some point over the past half century, but we’re fortunate in that one of the sets is still legible, so we’re able to gather quite a bit of information about its origin. If you’re wondering why the dates would have been scratched out, the reason for this is that for the Japanese, instead of using the western calendar of years, their years are set according to the reigns of the emperors. All of the lanterns at the shrine would have predated the Republic of China’s arrival in Taiwan, so the dates were a reminder of Taiwan’s history that the Chinese Nationalists would have preferred to get rid of.

This is not the work of an artist.

In the case of this shrine, it was constructed in 1936, which was the eleventh year of Emperor Showa’s reign (昭和11年). As it is a habit of mine when identifying these things, I made sure to take a close look at all of the lanterns, and they’ve all been vandalized, but some less so than others.

The Shrine Gates (鳥居 / とりい) 

The Shrine Gates, otherwise known as a “torii," are not a completely foreign object here in Taiwan, as you’ll find that most large temples feature their own variation. Even though most of us in the west traditionally associate these gates as iconic images of Japan, the meaning of the gates here in Taiwan, and across Asia remains the same as once you pass through, you are thought to be crossing from the profane world - which is considered to be unclean, to a sacred place. In Japan, the presence of one (or more) of these gates is one of the simplest ways of identifying that there is a shrine nearby, and also one of the best ways to know that you’re approaching a Shinto Shrine rather than a Buddhist temple.

Note: In proper nomenclature, Shinto places of worship are referred to as ‘shrines’ (社) while Buddhist places of worship are better referred to as temples.

The Golden Shrine was originally home to three of these sacred gates, which stretched from the entrance to the Visiting Path to the inner space of the shrine. Unfortunately, today only two of them remain today.

Traditionally, in Japan, shrine gates are numbered, so this shrine would have had a first gate (一の鳥居) to the third gate (三の鳥居). Although information is somewhat limited with regard to the original design of the shrine, it’s likely that the two gates that remain today are the second and third gates.

The two that do that remain at the shrine today fortunately are the originals (although they’ve recently been restored), and were constructed out of concrete, which is probably why they’ve been able to last for so long.

Like the stone lanterns mentioned above, both of the gates would have featured dates and the names of the people who donated money for their construction, but they’ve all been scratched off, or filled in with cement.

If you visit, you’ll notice that the third gate features as ‘sacred rope’ which is known as a shimenawa (標縄 / しめなわ) hanging from the top. The rope was added back to the gate as part of the restoration effort.

The Purification Fountain (手水舍 / ちょうずや)

An important aspect of Shintoism is something known as “hare and ke” (ハレとケ), otherwise known as the "sacred-profane dichotomy." It is thought that once you pass through the shrine gate, which is considered the barrier between the ‘profane’ and the ‘sacred’, it is necessary to do so in the cleanest possible manner by symbolically purifying yourself at the chozuya (ちょうずしゃ), or temizuya (てみずしゃ) provided. A necessity at any Shinto Shrine, the purification fountain is an important tool for symbolically readying yourself for entrance into the sacred realm.

The architectural design of these fountains varies from very simply designed spaces to something that could be regarded as very elaborately designed. Unfortunately, all that remains of the original fountain was part of the base where there would have been water to perform the purification ritual.

As part of the recent restoration of the shrine, a replication of the original fountain’s covered space was added. Although I haven’t seen photos of the original fountain, what they added in the space is unlikely to resemble the original in both its design and the material used to construct it.

Where the replication does help out is that it provides tourists with a spot to protect themselves from the elements on rainy days (of which there are many in that particular area), as well as offering a spot to educate visitors about the history of the shrine with helpful information displays.

Banner Poles (五座旗幟台)

In recent years, some of the most iconic photos of Japan’s Shinto Shrines have been from places like Tokyo’s Nezu Shrine (根津神社 / ねづじんじゃ), where you’ll find hundreds of red Shrine Gates leading up to the shrine. Similarly, quite a few of Japan’s shrines make use of beautiful banners, known as ‘nobori’ (幟 / のぼり).

The long and narrow flags are brilliant in that they are attached to a pole that features a cross-rod at the top to hold the fabric, preventing the flags from furling around the rod. With somewhat of a long and complicated history in Japan, these flags (or banners) typically line the Visiting Path of a Shrine or a Buddhist Temple in great numbers, which can be quite beautiful.

Note: These days, if you visit Japan, you’re likely to also find them used outside of restaurants, for advertisements and for political advertisements, among other uses.

Of all of the historic photos I’ve seen of Taiwan’s historic Shinto Shrines, it seems like few of them used these banners in the way that they were at the Ogon Shrine. As a mountain shrine, the wind on the hill would have been perfect for these flags, adding to the aesthetics.

One of the more predominant features of any of the historic photos you’ll see of the shrine are the giant banners on bamboo poles, and even though the flags are long gone, five of their bases remain along the Visiting Path, and are most apparent next to where the second Shrine Gate once existed.

The Hall of Worship (拜殿 / はいでん)

Known in Japan as the “haiden” (拜殿 /はいでん), for the vast majority of worshipers, it is the spiritual heart of the shrine, and given its importance, it was one of the most architecturally district buildings at the shrine.

Essentially the largest building within the ‘sacred’ space of the shrine, the Hall of Worship was an open space (no walls), with a covered roof propped up by the ten cylindrical columns you see standing there today.

Obviously, given that the shrine is in ruins, and the original building is long gone, it’s difficult for visitors imagine what the original building looked like, but the original columns remain perfectly in place.

As I mentioned earlier, the Second Generation Shrine was constructed with the ancient ‘shinmei-zukuri’  (神明造 / しんめいづくり) architectural design. What this means is that the large columns held up a kirizuma-style (切妻造 / きりづまづくり) gabled roof. Differing from what you’d typically see at larger Shinto Shrines, which feature hip-and-gable roofs, the original roof of the building would have consisted of two inclined surfaces on the front and back, which formed a ridge at the top.

Roofs of this design are essentially meant to resemble and open book, or the Chinese character ‘入’, which you should be able to understand from the diagram provided below.

General layout of shinmei-style architectural design

Considered to be one of the most ‘simplistic’ architectural styles that you’ll come across within the various styles of traditional Japanese architectural design, one of the interesting things about these shrines constructed is that they are generally rebuilt every two or three decades, adhering to the tradition of ‘shikinen sengu’ (神宮式年遷宮/じんぐうしきねんせんぐう), a ritual that provides for the constant renewal of its buildings.

More importantly, as the article linked below explains, the ritual plays a “very important role by enabling the transfer of (our) technical skill and spirit to the next generation. This transfer maintains both our architectural heritage and over 1,000 years of artistic tradition involving the making of the divine treasures.”

Link: [Soul of Japan] Shikinen Sengu, the Ritual of Rebuilding and Renewal (Japan Forward)

The rebuilding and renewal ritual is one that tends to vary between shrines, with some undergoing the process every eighteen to twenty-five years. In this case, the shrine was reconstructed in 1936, which means that it would possibly have been rebuilt again in 1961, 1986, and 2011.

With this in mind, even if the shrine wasn’t vandalized after the end of the Japanese-era, it very likely wouldn’t appear the same today as it would have back when the photos were taken in the late 1930s.

Speaking of those photos, one thing to note is that the roof featured katsuogi (鰹木/かつおぎ) and chigi (千木) ornaments on the top ridge. The katsuogi are long timber-like pieces of wood that rest on the flat base of the roof. While they might seem like a simple decorative element, they’re actually a pretty good indication of the kami that reside within, with an even number indicating a female divinity, while an odd number signifies a male. Taking a close look at the blurry old photos, there were five of them, signifying that the kami enshrined within were all male.

We already knew that, though.

With regard to the ‘chigi’, they can be cut either horizontally or vertically, known as uchi-sogi (内削ぎ) and soto-sogi (外削ぎ) respectively. How they’re cut likewise indicates the kami within, unfortunately, the photos of the Hall of Worship are far too blurry to see their design, but it’s safe to assume given what we know about the shrine that they were cut vertically.  

If you’d like see see both of these elements in action in another one of Taiwan’s historic shrines, I recommend taking a look at my article about Taitung’s Luye Shinto Shrine (鹿野神社).

Links: Shinmei-zukuri | Katsuogi | Chigi (Wiki)

Main Hall (本殿 / ほんでん)

Last, but not least, it’s time to introduce the Main Hall, otherwise known as the “honden” (本殿/ほんでん), the most sacred part of any Shinto Shrine, and the home of the gods. 

Traditionally, the Main Hall is the area of a shrine that is off-limits to the general public, and would have only been accessible to the staff who resided at, or took care of the shrine. Obviously that’s not the case today as the building is gone and all that remains is its concrete base.

Located directly behind the Hall of Worship, the Main Hall of the shrine kept with the shinmei-zukuri style of architectural design. In this case however, the much smaller building was placed on an elevated cement base.

Interestingly, when taking a look at the historic photos of the shrine, the height of the Main Hall was altered between the first and second generation designs. So, in some of the photos that you’ll see of the shrine, the rear hall is much smaller than the Hall of Worship in front of it, but in others, it is about the same height.

I won’t spend too much time on the architectural design of the Main Hall as I’d just be repeating what I mentioned earlier - All that remains of the hall today is its original cement base, which is quite beautifully designed in its own right. The base is double-layered with a narrow set of stairs in the middle with pedestals for either stone lanterns or possibly ‘Lion-Dogs’, known in Japan as the komainu (狛犬/こまいぬ) on either side of the stairs.

Today, as you reach the top of the base where the wooden structure would have existed, you’ll find a large stone with the Kanji for ‘donated’ or ‘donation’ (奉納 / ほうのう). With these ‘donations’, they’re usually parts of the shrine, like the gates or the lanterns which were paid for through the donations of private individuals.

I can’t place where this stone in particular came from, but it’s possible that it was once part of the pedestal for one of the Lion-Dogs or the sacred cow that was originally located next to the sacred gate.

Interestingly, given that this was once a place of worship, locals have taken to placing monetary offerings (coins) on the stone as a show of respect to the former shrine, which is quite endearing, but given the amount of vandalism that took place here, it’s also sad that so much of the original shrine has been lost.

Getting There

 

Address: #8 Jinguang Road, Jinguashi, Ruifang District (新北市瑞芳區金瓜石金光路8號)

GPS: 121.85862°E 25.105006°N

There are several convenient methods that will help you get to the Golden Shrine, but for most tourists, the best (and easiest method of explaining to get there is to use the Gold Museum as a starting point.

For the more adventurous, you could always hike Stegosaurus Ridge, Teapot Mountain, or any of the other hiking trails on the mountain where the shrine is located, but I’m just going to spend time introducing the direct route that the vast majority of tourists will take to get there.

How you get to the Gold Museum is up to you, but if you’re asking me for travel advice, I think its best that you hop on one of the buses out of Taipei, and take it directly to the Gold Museum. Don’t get off at Jiufen, go directly to the Gold Museum area and then on your way back by all means, stop at Jiufen. If, on the other hand you have your own means of transportation, you’ll have to keep mind that parking in the area can be a bit expensive.

Car / Scooter

If you have your own means of transportation, I recommend inputting the address or coordinates provided above into your vehicles GPS or Google Maps to map out your route to the museum. Depending on whether you’re coming from Taipei, Keelung, or the east coast, the route is going to be slightly different, so it’s much easier to have it mapped out on your preferred positioning system.

It’s important to keep in mind that the car park for the museum isn’t located at the front entrance along the narrow mountain road, so you’ll want to pay attention to the signs along the road that will point you in the direction of the car park.

Below I’ll provide the official directions to the Gold Museum from its official website (slightly edited for grammar and clarity):

  1. Take the Zhongshan Highway in the direction of Keelung → Exit at Dahua System Interchange→ Exit at Ruifang → Provincial Highway 2 → Turn right on Mingdeng Rd. → Pass though Jiufen and head down the mountain towards Jinguashi → Arrive at the Gold Museum

  2. Take the Zhongshan Highway in the direction of Keelung →  Exit at Dahua System Interchange → Go in the direction of Ruibin → Provincial Highway 2 → Turn right onto North County Road 34→ Arrive at the Gold Museum

  3. From the East Coast take Provincial Highway 2 to Shuinandong car park → Turn left onto North County Road 34 → Arrive at the Gold Museum.

Teapot Mountain (茶壺山) in the distance.

Train

If you elect to take the train as part of your adventure, you’re going to have to keep in mind that you’ll eventually have to switch to a bus at either Keelung Train Station (基隆車站) or Ruifang Train Station (瑞芳車站) as there aren’t any trains that provide direct access to the area.

The most convenient of the two stations with regard to getting to the Gold Museum area is Ruifang Station, but it’s important to note that not all of the trains bound north out of Taipei will get you to that station. If you find yourself on the wrong train, you may have to get off and transfer to another one near Xizhi (汐止車站) or Badu (八堵車站).

That being said, if you’re traveling from Taipei, it’s much faster and more convenient to hop on one of the buses on the list below as they’re direct from the capital. Taking a bus from the city will also ensure that you get a seat as the buses that roll through Ruifang are often packed to the point that they just pass by you when you’re at the bus stop waiting.    

Bus

Conveniently located at the entrance to the Gold Museum, you’ll find the ‘Jinguashi Gold Ecological Park’ (金瓜石 黃金博物館) bus stop. The buses that travel along this route typically pass through Ruifang (瑞芳), Jiufen (九分) and pass by the Golden Waterfall (黃金瀑布) on their way to Shuinandong (水湳洞) along the coast.

Serviced by the following routes, I’ll also provide links to the real time bus information below in addition to where you’re able to hop on:

  • Taipei Bus #788 (台北客運788): City God Temple - Shuinandong (城隍廟-水湳洞)

  • Taipei Bus #825 (台北客運825): Ruifang Station - Gold Museum (瑞芳車站-黃金博物館)

  • Taiwan Tour Bus #856 (台灣好行856): Ruifang - Sandiaojiao (瑞芳-三貂角燈塔)

  • Taipei Bus #965 (台北客運965): Fuzhong - Gushan Elementary (府中捷運站 - 瓜山國小)

  • Bus #1062 (基隆客運1062): Taipei - Jinguashi (台北 - 金瓜石)

  • Bus #F802 (台北客運): Ruifang Train Station - Jinguashi (瑞芳車站 - 金瓜石)

Click on any of the bus routes above for the route map and real-time information for each of the buses. If you haven’t already, I recommend using the Taipei eBus website or downloading the “台北等公車” app to your phone, which makes it easier to map out your trip and find the nearest bus stops to wherever you are located.

Link: Bus Tracker (臺北等公車) - Apple | Android

1. From Taipei - Jinguashi (台北 - 金瓜石博物館)

The easiest route directly from Taipei to the Gold Museum is Bus #1062, which conveniently sets off from Zhongxiao Fuxing MRT Station (忠孝復興捷運站) and also passes by Songshan Train Station (松山車站) and Ruifang Train Station (瑞芳車站). You also have the option of taking Bus #965, where you can hop on at Wanhua Train Station (萬華車站), Ximen MRT Station (西門捷運站) or Beimen MRT Station (北門捷運站).

2. From Keelung - Jinguashi (基隆 - 金瓜石博物館)

From Keelung Train Station (基隆車站) you can tae Bus #788 directly to the Gold Museum.

3. From Banqiao - Jinguashi (板橋 - 金瓜石博物館)

From Banqiao Bus Station (板橋公車站), located next to the train station, you can hop on Bus #965 and take the bus directly to the Gold Museum

4. From Ruifang - Jinguashi (瑞芳 - 金瓜石博物館)

From Ruifang Train Station, you have the option to take a number of buses that are headed up the mountain to Jiufen and the Gold Museum area.

The thing you’ll want to remember is that the bus stop here is more often than not packed with people, so you may find yourself waiting a bit to get on a bus. On the other hand, there are quite a few buses that pass through the area on the way up the mountain, so it may not be too long of a wait.


After being closed for half a decade, the Golden Shrine is finally reopen to the public. As one of the highlights of any visit to Jinguashi or the Gold Museum, I highly recommend the short hike up the mountain to the shrine if you find yourself in the area. Obviously, as a ruined Shinto Shrine, there isn’t much to see, and it is a skeleton of its former self, but its continued existence remains quite significant with regard to the modern history of this beautiful island nation. Rated as one of the most iconic tourist destinations in northern Taiwan, the shrine provides tourists with a pretty great photo opportunity, so even if you’re not as interested in all of this stuff as I am, why not check it out?

References

  1. Ōgon Shrine | 金瓜石神社 (中文) | 黃金神社 (日文) (Wiki)

  2. Ōgon Shrine (Spectral Codex)

  3. List of Shinto Shrines in Taiwan | 台灣神社列表 (Wiki) 

  4. 金瓜石神社 ( 國家文化資產網)

  5. [新北市瑞芳].金瓜石.黃金博物園區 (Tony的自然人文旅記)

  6. 新北市立黃金博物館New Taipei City Gold Museum (Wiki)

  7. 礦山上的台灣最初社-金瓜石神社 (晰誌 | See Zine)

  8. 金瓜石神社 山神祭 (新北市政府)

  9. 金瓜石 | Jinguashi (Wiki)

  10. The Gold Museum in Jinguashi (TaiwanEverything)

  11. 118 Shinto Gods and Goddesses to Know About (Owlcation)

  12. Architecture and Sacred Spaces in Shinto (Berkeley ORIAS)

  13. Encyclopedia of Shinto (Kokugakuin University)

  14. Shinto Architecture (Wikiwand)

  15. Taipower unveils renovated Jinguashi Shinto shrine in New Taipei (FTV News)