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)


Hakozaki Shrine (筥崎宮)

Prior to leaving Taiwan on our eight-day trip to Japan’s southern island of Kyushu, I had planned an ambitious itinerary of destinations within the city of Fukuoka, in addition other areas around the island - As a frequent traveler, you often learn the hard way that it’s difficult to predict what may happen while traveling abroad, so as usual, I made a special effort to ensure that a number of back up destinations were included on our list, so that we could make the most of our time. With only a few days in the city before hopping in a rental and taking off to other parts of Kyushu, we had to make sure to plan things well so we could enjoy as many of the sights, and probably more importantly, the food, of the city that we could.

Making things a little more difficult was that part of our itinerary included a couple of excursions out of the city, which would require hopping on the train, and would end up taking the better part of a day. Suffice to say, we had a lot to see and do, and even though it was unlikely that we’d be able to visit all the places we had planned to see, the great thing about Fukuoka is that it is a short flight from Taiwan, so its an easy place to visit!

A few days prior to our arrival in the country, we started becoming concerned that all of our meticulous planning was for naught as the forecast was less than ideal for almost the entire duration of our trip - With rain forecast for every day that we were there, when it came to the excursions out of town, we decided that we’d evaluate the situation prior to eating breakfast and making a decision from there.

Given that the Hakozaki (筥崎宮) and Dazaifu (太宰府天満宮) shrines were two of the largest, and most historically significant places of worship on the island, it was important that we were able to enjoy our experiences at both. but for my partner, the latter was one of the places that she wanted to visit the most. So, on a day when the weather looked like it wasn’t really going to cooperate, we decided to hop on Fukuoka’s subway, and ride out of the downtown area of the city to visit the historic Hakozaki Shrine. The next day, when we got on a train to head south to Dazaifu, we were delighted that the skies were bright blue.

In retrospect, even though we did end up getting a considerable amount of rain during one of the excursions, I think we ended up making the best decision. It rained heavily while we were visiting Hakozaki, which is the subject of today’s post, but I feel like the weather made the shrine even more beautiful, and if you look closely, you’ll notice the heavy rain in quite a few of the photos that I’m sharing today.

I’m not saying that I enjoyed walking around in the heavy rain, nor that I would have preferred visiting while it was raining, but taking into consideration that the the palette of colors that you experience at these shrines is completely different, I’d argue that Hakozaki has a special charm in the rain that we wouldn’t experienced if the situation were reversed.

While I’m sure both of these shrines look absolutely beautiful on a day when the weather is perfect, most of the buildings at Hakozaki date back to the sixteenth century, and the ancient wood and the dull cedar bark roofs of the buildings are brought to life in the rain. While everything is bright red at Dazaifu, the unpainted wood used on the buildings at Hakozaki blends in really well with the natural environment around it, which has been cultivated for well-over a thousand years.

Our visit to Hakozaki may have included rain, but it made for some beautiful photos, and we were also lucky enough to visit while a wedding was taking place. Not only did we get to enjoy the shrine, but we also got to do some people watching with all of the interesting things that take place when two families get together on a happy day - although I’m sure the happy couple probably hoped for better weather on such a special occasion!

Nevertheless, as one of Fukuoka’s largest, most historic, and most important places of worship, Hakozaki has also become an important tourist destination. Underscoring just how important this shrine is to the people of Fukuoka, visiting is made even more convenient in that there is a subway station that was constructed specifically for the shrine. If you’re visiting Fukuoka, even if you don’t really care about visiting shrines like this, both that I’ve mentioned here are pretty important tourist destinations, so if you’d like to better understand how the history of the area has shaped both the city and the country that we’re able to enjoy today, they should be at the top of your list of places to visit.

As I move on, I’ll start by introducing the history of the shrine, and then I’ll detail the layout of the shrine, what you’ll come across, and its architectural design, ending with an explanation of how to visit. Admittedly, this article is quite long, and includes quite a bit of detail. Sadly, as I’ve had to learn the hard way, there is very little in terms of information about the shrine available in English, so I hope the effort I’ve put in here helps anyone who visits better undrstand what’s going on!

Hakozaki Shrine (筥崎宮 / はこざきぐう)

One of the things you’re likely to learn on a trip to Japan is that the shrines you visit and the kami enshrined within them tend to act as a mirror into the history and culture of the local community. In the southern port city of Fukuoka, and by extension, the greater Kyushu region, you’ll find that the history of the land has been shaped very much by a few specific ‘kami', often historic or legendary figures. These local figures, whose spirits are thought to inhabit the natural world, do the things that typical kami do by providing blessings to the people of the area in areas such as health, wealth, good fortune, and so on, but they have also played an important role in local history.

In this case, Hakozaki Shrine is dedicated primarily to Hachiman (八幡神), who has become one of the most important kami in Japan - regarded as the divine protector of the Japanese nation, the Japanese people, and the Imperial House. With over 44,000 shrines dedicated to Hachiman in Japan, you might be wondering what specific relevance he has to the area, which is something I’m going to explain, as the legend of Hachiman, and the spread of his worship throughout the country are all things that started in the area we know as Fukuoka today.

In the English-language, Hachiman is often referred to as the ‘Japanese god of war’, but that is an over-simplification of the role he has played as the spiritual ‘protector’ of Japan. Has his worship been usurped for war-like purposes? Sure, but when your ‘official messenger’ is a dove, you probably aren’t the Japanese version of the Greek God Ares. Better known as a tutelary god of warriors, Hachiman is primarily regarded a protector deity, and is often most associated with archery, but he is also an important figure with regard to offering blessings to farmers, fishers, and travelers, as well as being a patron deity of commerce and industry, scholarship and the arts, among other roles.

Cementing his reputation and role as a ‘protector’ deity, Hachiman is regarded as the deity responsible for the ‘Divine Wind’, better known as ‘kamikaze’ (神風 / かみかぜ) that helped to stave off the invasion of Mongol forces on two separate occasions. It’s likely that during the attempted invasions that took place in 1274 and 1281, typhoons in the Sea of Japan, between China and Japan, dispatched a large portion of the invasion forces, ensuring that the Japanese would become one of the few countries of Asia that were able to resist the power of the Khans.

Nevertheless, the story of Hachiman goes back to the life of Emperor Ojin (應神天皇 / おうじんてんのう), the fifteenth emperor of Japan, thought to have ruled between 370 and 410AD. Given that the emperor’s life took place before written record became common in Japan, much of what we know about him is told in the Kojiki (古事記), and the Nihon Shoki (日本書紀),  known in English as the ‘Records of Ancient Matters’ and the ‘Chronicles of Japan,’ respectively. Part historical record, part myths and legends, the two books are essentially a historical account of the origin of the Japanese nation, the imperial line of succession and the deities worshipped in the country. However, if we take into consideration that both of these chronicles were authored several hundred years after the emperor’s death, it is difficult to separate fact and fiction.

The story of Emperor Ojin’s starts with his parents, Emperor Chuai (仲哀天皇 / ちゅうあいてんの), the fourteenth Emperor of Japan, thought to have ruled between 192 and 200AD, and his mother, Empress Jingu (神功皇后 / じんぐうこうごう). Part of the reason why Hachiman worship, and by extension, the worship of the Sumiyoshi Sanjin (住吉三神) are so common in Kyushu is in part due to Ojin’s father setting up his capital in Kyushu (九州), rather than Yamato (大和国), as well as the legends that resulted in Ojin’s birth.

Ojin’s mother, Empress Jingu was a shamaness, who is said to have been possessed by ‘supernatural force’ on the eve of a battle with a clan to the south of Fukuoka. That ‘supernatural force’ insisted that the Emperor abandon his battle with the clan, and instead take to the water to conquer the ancient Korean kingdoms of Silla, Goguryeo, and Baekje.

Scorning the 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, the emperor’s refusal to adhere to their will was considered to be the reason for his untimely demise. Thus, the Empress Consort, who was pregnant with their son at the time, ascended the throne as empress regent, and carried out the gods request to invade the Korean kingdoms.

According to the legends in the Kojiki and Nihon Shoki, she prayed to the ‘Sumiyoshi Sanjin’ prior to setting sail, and with the blessing of the gods, the military expedition went quite smoothly. 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 article below, as are the questions to whether they are actually based on historic fact.

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

Note: The life of Empress Jingu, and the birth of her son are regarded as somewhat controversial today as it involves the invasion of the Korean peninsula.

Prince Ojin was born in 201AD in Tsukushi Province (筑紫国) a region that would later become known as Chikuzen Province (筑前国), and most recently Fukuoka Prefecture (福岡縣). When the prince was born, eight banners were raised on top of a mountain on an island that celebrated his birth (and in some accounts) celebrating the victory over the Korean kingdoms. According to records, he was crowned prince at the age of four, but for some reason his mother clung onto power until he was seventy years old. His reign would last for the next four decades, which means he lived until he was 110 years old, but some accounts suggest he died at 130.

During his reign, it is said that he encouraged farming and the construction of irrigation networks. He also invited craftsman, artists and scholars from both China and Korea, who came to Japan, bringing with them knowledge of spinning, sewing and weaving as well as the introduction of literature, which helped to further develop scholarship in the country.

As things go, one day on the northern coast of Kyushu, in the land of Usa (宇佐の地), a kami named ‘Hachiman’ emerged from a freshwater pool, and in 571AD, Emperor Kinmei (欽明天皇 / きんめいてんのう) decreed that the kami who appeared in the pool in Usa was indeed a manifestation of his ancestor, Emperor Ojin.

Known either as ‘Yahata-no-kami’, or Hachiman (八幡神 / やはたのかみ/はちまんしん), the name refers to the ‘eight banners’ mentioned above that celebrated the birth of Emperor Ojin, which is one of the reasons why the kami ended up being identified as the manifestation of Emperor Ojin.

The first shrine dedicated to Hachiman was constructed near the pool where the kami first appeared in the land of Usa in the north of Kyushu. The shrine, known as ‘Usa Jingu’ (宇佐神宮) or ‘Usa Hachimangu’ (宇佐八幡宮) was constructed in the eighth century, and today continues to be the most important of the nation’s more than forty-thousand Hachiman shrines.

That being said, large shrines like this one often take part in a ‘sharing’ ceremony where a shrine ‘divides’ the power of a kami allowing for another shrine to be constructed. 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 Japan, but is also a practice that you’ll find takes place throughout Asia.

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

As Chikuzen Province (筑前国) was the birthplace of Emperor Ojin, it only made sense that a major shrine in his honor was constructed in his homeland. Hakozaki Shrine was established in 923AD on a large plot of land close to the Sea of Japan where the emperor was born, and along with the Usa Shrine is one of the most important sites dedicated to the worship of Hachiman.

In fact, the shrine is regarded as one of the ‘Three Most Important Hachiman Shrines in Japan’ (日本三大八幡宮). While Usa Shrine boasts its status as the birthplace of Hachiman worship as the head of all Hachiman shrines, Hakozaki, on the other hand, is the protector of Emperor Ojin’s umbilical cord, which is kind of weird, but is also the shrine that is arguably most responsible for the spread of the Hachiman cult throughout the country. Thus, being the ‘first' doesn’t always mean ‘the best’ as Hakozaki holds an especially important position in the growth and spread of Hachiman worship throughout the rest of the country, spurred on by events that took place in the area.

Before we get into the events that took place after the founding of the shrine, and the spread of Hachiman worship throughout the country, it’s probably a good idea to take a look at the name of the shrine to explain it’s meaning, because it’s something that is actually a little confusing.

The first Hachiman Shrine is known simply as the Usa Shrine (宇佐神宮), named simply after the land where the shrine is located - The origin of Hakozaki’s name however is a bit more complicated, and has something to do with that ‘umbilical cord’ mentioned above - The word ‘Hako’ (筥 / はこ) refers to something ‘cylindrical’ in shape. What may confuse a lot of people however is that you’ll often see the Kanji characters “筥” and “箱” used interchangeably when referring to the shrine, and the neighborhood around it.

Essentially both characters have the same meaning and the same pronunciation, but the latter is more commonly used in contemporary Japanese to refer to a ‘box.’ In this case, the ‘cylindrical box’ being referred to is a bit convoluted in its meaning - Some suggest that the robes that Empress Jingu wore while giving birth were placed in a box, and buried on site while others suggest that the box not only contained Jingu’s robes, but the afterbirth as well (including the umbilical cord). Finally, others suggest that the ‘cylindrical’ shape being referred to is simply the pine tree that was planted by Empress Jingu on the site where the shrine would later be constructed. Whatever your interpretation, in each explanation, there are only minor differences, but what we do know is that within the shrine’s grounds, you’ll find the pine tree where there may or may not be a sacred box buried beneath.

The second character in the name of the shrine is a bit less confusing as the word ‘saki’ or ‘zaki’ (崎 / さき), depending on how you romanize the word, simply translates as a peninsula, referring to the location where the shrine was constructed. For keen observers, you’re likely to note that the subway station next to the shrine is named: Hakozakigu-mae Station (箱崎宮前駅), which in English doesn’t really make much difference. Similarly, you’ll find the Hakozaki JR Station (箱崎駅), Hakozaki Park (箱崎公園), etc.

Each of these places makes use of the character “Hako” (箱) instead of the “Hako” (筥) used for the shrine - One of the better explanations for the usage of the two different characters is simply that is meant to show respect to the shrine, which predates the neighborhood that has grown around it.

The official date of the shrine’s establishment likewise is one of those things that tends to be a bit confusing, with rather unreliable explanations on the subject. Some accounts point to Emperor Daigo (醍醐天皇 / だいごてんのう) in 921 (延喜21年) gifting a ‘plaque’ to the site where a shrine was planned to be established, while others argue that 923 is a more exact date as it is when the shrine was officially consecrated. With the latter, you could argue that the process of bringing the ‘power' of Hachiman from the Usa Grand Shrine to Hakozaki finalized things, but sometimes these things are counted differently. Whatever your opinion on the subject, the shrine is more than 1100 years old, so the two year difference probably doesn’t matter all that much.

Hakozaki was constructed in a location that purposely had it facing eastward toward the Asian mainland, in a spot that was near the birthplace of Emperor Ojin. The location was considered a strategic one in that it occupied a space that was an optimal location within Hakata Bay for defense purposes. Hakata Bay as we know it today is and has been an important international port of trade for quite a while, so even in the tenth century when the shrine was constructed, the port would have been a hot-spot with regard to any planned invasion of the country.

Back to a point I made earlier, Hakozaki has been uniquely important with regard to the spread of Hachiman’s popularity over the years, but it has also seen its fair share of misery, as well. During the two attempted Mongol invasions of Japan, people prayed at the shrine for Hachiman’s protection, resulting in the ‘divine’ typhoons that swept away most of the invasion forces. That being said, in both cases, the point of landing would have been in the Hakata Bay area, and even though a fraction of the Mongol forces ended up coming ashore, they were only barely defeated by the Japanese.

News of the Mongol’s defeat and the so-called ‘Divine Wind’ that helped protect the country from invasion quickly spread across the country, and worship of Hachiman thus became synonymous with protection.

Helping to increase the popularity of Hachiman, the powerful Minamoto Clan (源氏 / みなもとうじ) of Samurai, who (were said to be) descended from Emperor Ojin, at some point claimed the deity as their patron. The clan was one of four that dominated the country between the Heian, Kamakura, Muromachi and Edo periods of history (basically 794 - 1868). During each of these eras, powerful political figures from Daimyo’s (大名 / だいみょう) to the Shogun (大将軍 / だいしょうぐん) made pilgrimages to Hakozaki to pay their respect to the ‘kami of the divine wind’ who protected the country.

When the ‘Divine Wind’ story is told, what the storyteller most often fails to mention is that the Mongols who did make it ashore were able to cause a considerable amount of mayhem, and Hakozaki Shrine was razed and destroyed. It was later rebuilt, but over the centuries it has fallen victim to the various civil wars that have plagued Japan throughout its history - with some warlords even making the shrine their base of operation on several occasions. With this in mind, even though the shrine was established well-over a thousand years ago, what we see today only dates back to the mid-sixteenth century, but as you look at the scrolls of the original shrine (like the one above), you can see that it has expanded quite a bit over the years with several new buildings, auxiliary shrines, and modern facilities.

Kami Enshrined at Hakozaki Shrine

In addition to Hachiman, there are another two kami enshrined within the Main Hall of the Hakozaki Shrine. There are of course a number of auxiliary shrines on-site that are home to a number of other kami, which I’ll cover a bit later. The three kami enshrined within the Main Hall are as follows:

  1. Hachiman (八幡神 / はちまんしん), otherwise known as Emperor Ojin (應神天皇 / おうじんてんのう), as mentioned earlier he serves a number of roles as the ‘Protector of Japan,’ the ‘Protector of the Imperial Family,’ and is the patron of seafarers and farmers, commerce, industry, scholarship, the arts, archers, martial arts, etc.

  2. Empress Jingu (神功皇后 / じんぐうこうごう) - the mother of Emperor Ojin, who was an empress and shamaness. Stories of her life are told in the Kojiki and Nihon Shoki, and as a kami she is worshipped for good fortune, passing exams, health and wellness, martial arts, etc. Like her son, Ojin, she has also been syncretized with Buddhism where she is important for childbirth and child-rearing, household safety, etc.

  3. Tamayori-hime (玉依姫命 / タマヨリビメ) - the mother of Emperor Jimmu (Japan’s first emperor), the daughter of Watatsumi, the sea-dragon god, and a direct descendent of Amaterasu Omikami. Similar to Jinggu, she is a divine-mother as well as being regarded as the goddess of the sea and a patron of seafarers.

Before I move onto introducing the layout and architectural design of the shrine, it’s probably a good idea to give readers a bit of context with regard to the three kami mentioned above, and the reason why they appear specifically at this shrine (for which there are a number of reasons), some of which aren’t often mentioned. Starting with Hachiman, obviously as I’ve mentioned earlier, given that the area where the shrine is located is regarded as his birthplace, it makes sense to have a shrine in his honor here.

The Fukuoka region, though, has played an important role in the legends of Emperor Ojin’s family. Going back as far as his father’s ill-fated war against the Kumaso Clan (熊襲 / くまそ), and his mother’s expedition to the Korean kingdoms, the family’s actions have played an important role in the development of Hakata into the international port as we know it today.

Even though worship of these figures has spread throughout Japan, it’s important to note that they are especially important in Kyushu - If you find yourself visiting Fukuoka, you might notice that Empress Jingu is enshrined as the primary deity within Kashii-gu (香椎宮), in addition to Japan’s first Sumiyoshi Shrine (住吉神社) - another large Shinto sect for which Empress Jingu played an instrumental role in it’s growth.

Finally, it makes sense that a shrine located so close to Hakata Bay would pay homage to Tamayori-hime, a goddess of the sea - but there is a relationship here that likewise doesn’t often get mentioned - In this case, Tamayori-hime isn’t exactly a ‘regional’ figure, as she is a kami straight out of Japan’s creation myths (although it could be argued that she hailed from southern Kyushu). The granddaughter of the sun-goddess Amaterasu, Tamayori-hime is regarded as the mother of Jimmu (神武天皇), the legendary first emperor of Japan, and the figure for which the Imperial Household has long drawn both its legitimacy and its divinity. Emperor Chuai and Emperor Ojin, the 14th and 15th emperors of Japan were thus related to Tamayori through the Imperial line.

With Empress Jinggu, we have a figure who is regarded as a ‘divine mother,’ as the mother of the man who would become Hachiman - Tamayori-Hime on the other hand plays a similar role in that she’s the mother of what has become the oldest continuous hereditary monarchy in the world.

Suffice to say, for most visitors to Japan, a stop at a Shinto Shrine is an excellent opportunity to experience the culture of the Japanese people, and even though these places tend to come across as rather simplistic, they are in fact, very complex, and require a considerable amount of research to actually understand what is going on, and how all of these things are interconnected. Hakozaki Shrine is a prime example of how historic events two-thousand years in the making helped to shape Japan and its culture and beliefs.

Architectural Design

As one of the most popular sects of Shintoism, there are well-over forty-thousand shrines dedicated to the worship of Hachiman in Japan. Obviously, with so many shrines, there is a considerable variety with regard to the architectural design, but for many, if not most, the first Hachiman Shrine, Usa Jingu (宇佐神宮) serves as the prototype for most offering up very specific architectural design traits that have been utilized since the 8th century. Shinto Shrines in Japan come in all shapes, sizes, and architectrual styles, but when it comes to these Hachiman shrines, they are so important that they have their own unique style of architectural design, known as ‘hachiman-zukuri’ (八幡造 / はちまんづくり).

One of the points I made in my introduction to the architectural design of Fukuoka’s Sumiyoshi Shrine was that it was constructed in one of the three ancient styles of architectural design that pre-dated the introduction of Buddhism to Japan. In the case of the Usa Hachiman Shrine, and those that followed, the ‘hachiman-zukuri’ design was one that came after Buddhism started to influence the architectural designs of shrines and temples in Japan. Thus, you’ll find that even though there are some variations with regard to the Hachiman-style at the Hakozaki Shrine, it contains elements that you’ll only find at the largest Hachiman shrines.

However, as I mentioned earlier, Hakozaki was established during the early 10th century, but over the past thousand years, it has been destroyed on several different occasions - Much of what we see at the shrine today was constructed during the mid-sixteenth century, which is still quite incredible as the most important structures within the shrine have been there for nearly five-hundred years. That being said, the ‘latest’ incarnation of the shrine differs quite a bit from what you’d typically see at a shrine constructed in the Hachiman-style.

As I move on, I’m going to introduce each of the key parts of the shrine individually, and in each case I’ll do my best to offer information about their age and their architectural design. I realize that some of you may not be interested in all of this detailed information, so if you just want to know what each part of the shrine is in simple terms, click the collapsible button below. Within, I’ll provide the map of the shrine, courtesy of Hakozaki’s official website, with translations as to what each section is so that you can better understand what you’ll see when you visit.

    1. The Visiting Path (參道 / さんどう) - a long walking path that features shrine gates (鳥居), stone lanterns (石燈籠), and stone guardians (狛犬), in addition to practical things like the subway station, car park, etc.

    2. The Purification Fountain (手水舍 / ちょうずしゃ) - as you pass through the main shrine gate, you’ll notice a roof-covered fountain on the right, which is used for a purification ceremony that anyone entering the shrine should take part in.

    3. Administration Office (社務所 / しゃむしょ) - the building where the administration of the shrine takes place, amulets can be purchased there, and ceremonies are often held within.

    4. Talisman Hall (絵馬殿 / えまでん) - an open, roof-covered hall that is home to several plaques that have been gifted to the shrine, most often from emperors and other important figures.

    5. Divine Tree (神木 / 筥松) - A fenced in pine tree where it is said that Emperor Ojin’s afterbirth is buried in a box beneath. The fence is where visitors place the charms that they purchase at the shrine, given that it is an important spiritual part of the shrine.

    6. Emperor Kameyama Memorial Hall (龜山上皇尊像) - A hall constructed to the memory of Emperor Kameyama, the 90th emperor of Japan, and the person who donated the plaque on the Tower Gate.

    7. Tower Gate (樓門 / ろうもん) - Regarded as a Japanese National Treasure, the Tower Gate is one of the most architecturally distinct sections of the shrine.

    8. Main Hall (本殿 / ほんでん) - An open structure just beyond the Tower Gate where worshippers approach to announce their arrival, offer donations, and pray.

    9. Hall of Worship (拜殿 / はいでん) - the most sacred section of the shrine, which is off-limits to ordinary members of the public.

    10. Auxiliary Shrines (攝末社 / せつまつしゃ) - smaller shrines, located to the rear of the main shrine, which are home to kami that share a relationship with the shrine

The Visiting Path (參道 / さんどう)

The Visiting Path, otherwise known as the “sando” (さんどう) is an important aspect of the design of any Shinto Shrine - the path is essentially just a road 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. Keeping in mind that ‘Shintoism’ itself is literally translated as the “Pathway to the Gods” (神道), having a literal path that leads from the realm of the profane to that of the sacred is quite important. 

In this case, the path starts at Hakata Bay and ends about a kilometer away at the main entrance to the shrine. Functionally speaking, the Visiting Path today is home to several parking lots, a subway station, bus stops, etc. Visitors to the shrine are likely to start their journey to the shrine about halfway through where they emerge from the subway station.

The average length of a Visiting Path at a shrine tends to vary based on the amount of space reserved for the shrine, but one thing that almost always remains true is that you’ll find stone lanterns (石燈籠 / しゃむしょ), shrine gates (鳥居 / とりい) and stone guardians (狛犬 / こまいぬ) along your journey.

Starting at Hakata Bay, you’ll find the Hama Shrine Gate (箱崎浜), and then about halfway up the Visiting Path, you’ll find the massive Second Shrine Gate (二之鳥居) donated in 1930, and as you approach the entrance, you’ll find the First Shrine Gate (一之鳥居). The shrine gate located at the entrance to the shrine is regarded as a National Treasure (国指定重要文化財), and was presented to the shrine by Feudal Lord Kuroda Nagamasa (黒田 長政 / くろだ ながまさ) in 1609. This style of shrine gate is unique to this shrine, and has been dubbed the ‘Hakozaki Style Torii’ (筥崎鳥居), a nod to its importance.

Finally, on either side of the First Shrine Gate, you’ll find the shrine’s primary stone-guardians. Known in Japan as ‘komainu’ (狛犬 / こまいぬ), they were designed in a bulky and fearsome fashion, and appear quite similar to the stone guardians you’ll find at other important shrines in the Greater-Fukuoka region. The guardians date back to 1930 (昭和5年), making them somewhat recent additions.

Link: Komainu Lion Dogs (Japan Visitor)

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

Located to the right of the shrine gate as you enter the shrine, you’ll find what is known as the 'Purification Fountain’, another essential addition to any Shinto Shrine. Like the Visiting Path, a fountain is sure to appear in some shape or form at every shrine you visit as it marks another important philosophical aspect to Shintoism, referred to as “hare and ke” (ハレとケ), or the "sacred-profane dichotomy."

Similar to the Visiting Path, which marks the ‘journey’ from the sacred to the profane, it is important for visitors to one of these sacred spaces to cross the barrier in the cleanliest possible manner. To do this, visitors symbolically take part in a purification ceremony at the chozuya (ちょうずしゃ) or temizuya (てみずしゃ) provided. For international tourists, the process can be somewhat confusing, so the shrine has set up a easy to understand illustration next to the fountain that assists in the process.

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)

The fountain is contained within a structure that is supported by four thick wooden pillars that support a beautiful hip-and-gable roof. The fountain itself has been carved out of stone with the words “洗心” (cleanse your heart) carved into the base. You’ll find the fountain is full of water and there are wooden ladles on all sides for visitors to make use of during the cleansing process.

Administration Office (社務所 / しゃむしょ)

As you enter the gate to the shrine, you’ll see the Tower Gate directly in front of you, the Purification Fountain on your right, and on your 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. The Administration Office also features a ‘Public Counter’ (授与所 / じゅよじょ), which is like a gift shop where visitors can ‘receive' (purchase) shrine branded tokens and amulets, or talismans to hang near the sacred pine tree.

Obviously, given that this building is an administration area and resting space, it’s not a building where tourists are permitted to randomly enter. The shrine doesn’t offer much information about the date of the building’s construction, but it appears to be quite new. When you look at the building directly, it gives the impression that it is a long-rectangular structure that is mostly made of wood, and features a high sloping roof. Looks can be a bit deceiving in this case, however, as the building is ‘L-shaped’ and connects to buildings to the rear that are completely out of sight. While much of the space is used for administrative purposes, there is a building located within a courtyard that is used for marriage ceremonies, which is a pretty popular thing to do at the shrine.

Talisman Hall (絵馬殿 / えまでん)

Directly across from the shrine’s administration office, you’ll find a structure known as the ‘Talisman Hall’, which is actually something that is relatively new to me. I haven’t seen many of these within a shrine during my travels. Talismans are the pieces of wood, known as ‘Ema’ (絵馬/えま) that visitors purchase to write prayers or wishes on and leave at the shrine.

This building isn’t for those types, though.

What you’ll find while inside are large wooden plaques that offer quite a bit of information about the shrine’s history while others feature faded murals of historic events. Again, there isn’t much information about the plaques, but they all appear to be quite old, so it would be nice to have a little information about their origin.

During my visit, the hall was empty, but it was an excellent refuge from the rain that was coming down as well as giving us the opportunity to continue taking photos of the shrine. Covered with a massive hip-and-gable roof, the lower part of the building is completely open to the elements with everything being held up by twelve large wooden pillars and a network of trusses within.

Like the Administration Hall, there isn’t much information about the age of the building, but taking a look at the wood that was used to construct the building, it does show signs of age.

Tower Gate (樓門 / ろうもん)

Tower Gates, otherwise known as ‘romon' (樓門 / ろうもん) can be considered a common addition to Hachiman Shrines, but generally speaking, gates like this are more associated with the architectural layout of Buddhist temples in Japan than they are with Shinto Shrines. While there are, of course, exceptions to the rule, when you find a gate like this at a Shinto Shrine, it is somewhat of a special occasion.

In this case, the Tower Gate has been designated an ‘Important National Treasure’ (国指定重要文化財) by the Japanese government. Officially named “The Gate of Prostrating Enemies” (伏敵門) thanks to the plaque that rests within the mid-section. The plaque, which is thought to have been inscribed by Emperor Kameyama (1249-1305) reads “May the enemy nations prostrate themselves [in defeat]” (敵国降伏), referring to the Mongol’s failed invasions of the country.

Constructed in 1594 (文禄3年) with funds donated from Kobayakawa Takakage (小早川隆景), the feudal lord of Chikuzen, the gate features three entrances (三間一戸) with statues of ceremonial guards known as ’Kadomori-no-kami’ (門守の神) on either side of the middle door. Although they are somewhat obscured, you’ll notice that they’re both well-dressed figures who are holding bows and arrows with the god on the left known as Yadaijin (矢大臣) while the one on the right is Sadajin (左大臣).

Constructed in the irimoya-zukuri (入母造 / いりもやづくり) style or architectural design, the gate features a ‘moya’ (母屋) or a base that is considerably smaller than the massive hip-and-gable roof above. Similar to the Talisman Hall mentioned earlier, there is a genius network of trusses within the gate that help to support and distribute the wright of the roof. In this case, you can’t actually see that network at work as it is covered up.

The roof is covered with Japanese cedar bark (檜皮葺) and as traditional hip-and-gable roof (歇山頂) it features a combination of the two-sided kirizuma-zukuri (切妻造 / きりづまづくり), and the four-sided yosemune-zukuri (寄棟造 / よせむねづくり) styles of roof design that work together to create the curvy hip-and-gable design.

The roof is even more impressive when you realize after entering the gate that it connects directly to the roof of the ‘Hall of Worship,’ which is facing in a different direction, creating an interesting geometric shape.

Hall of Worship (拜殿 / はいでん)

The Main Hall and the Hall of Worship of the shrine were reconstructed together in 1546 (天文15年), with funds donated by Ouchi Yoshitaka (大内 義隆 / おおうち よしたか), who was the lord of Suo Province (周防国), an area that today encompasses much of western Honshu’s Yamaguchi Prefecture (山口県). As is the case with the Tower Gate, both the Main Hall and the Hall of Worship have been designated as protected national heritage buildings.

As you enter the worship area, you’ll notice that there really isn’t all that much room for visitors beyond the doors. There is an altar space where visitors are able to approach to announce their arrival to the kami inside, but the passageways on the sides of the altar are blocked for the average visitor.

Suffice to say, you aren’t able to see much of what’s going on from the front of the altar as there is an elevated stage in the middle of the open-building, which is used for kagura performances (神楽/かぐら) for the kami. Interestingly, these performances are a type of Shinto ritual dance that are performed solely for the entertainment of the gods.

The Main Hall, which is known in Japan as the “haiden” (拜殿 /はいでん) was constructed in the irimoya-style, and is architecturally similar to the Talisman Hall that I introduced earlier in that it is constructed almost entirely of wood, with a network of pillars along its perimeter, and trusses in the ceiling space that help support and distribute the weight of the roof.

Where the building differs is that much of its floor space is elevated off of the ground for the performance stage, and in the design of its roof, which is a two-sided kirizuma-zukuri (切妻造 / きりづまづくり). The sloping two-sided roof is designed to appear similar to the word “入”, but can also be described as appearing like a open book that is placed with its cover up. Similar to the tower in front, the roof is covered with layers of Japanese cedar bark (檜皮葺) instead of the copper tiles that you’ll often see at modern shrines.

One thing that you’ll want to pay attention to when visiting are the small piles of sand that are placed on the altar. The sand is from the beach that is located at the start of the Visiting Path to the shrine. Considered sacred, the sand is often carried by worshippers from the beach to the shrine as a method of preventing accidents and for good fortune. One of the shrine’s major festivals is focused entirely on bringing large amounts of sand from the beach to the shrine, attracting thousands of people several times a year.

Main Hall (本殿 / ほんでん)

The Main Hall is located directly behind the Hall of Worship, otherwise known as the “honden” (本殿/ほんでん), it is the most sacred part of any Shinto Shrine, and the home of the gods. 

Connected to the roof of the Hall of Worship, the buildings within the sacred space of the shrine more or less form the shape of a ’T’ with the front hall connecting to the building directly in the center.

Originally, I had assumed that the architectural design of the Main Hall followed that of the Usa Hachiman Shrine in Northern Kyushu with its iconic ‘Hachiman-style’ (八幡造) design, but I later discovered that when the buildings were reconstructed in the 16th century, variations were made to the architectural design. Suffice to say, the building was constructed with a rare style of design known as ‘Kukkensha Nagare-zukuri’ (九間社流造). In this style of design, the word ‘flowing’ is key as it features a streamlined gable-style roof. The core of the building, known as the ‘moya’ (母屋) is elevated off of the ground with a set of stairs that brings you to the entrance. Surrounding the core along the perimeter, you’ll find a veranda, known as a ‘hisashi’ (廂 / ひさし) that opens up to entrances and another two sets of stairs on the eastern and western sides.

What makes the design of this building special is its length, which can be from one to eleven ‘bays’ (間) wide. In most cases, buildings like this are one or three bays wide (you’ll never find one that is six or eight bays wide), but this one is nine bays wide, which is where the ‘kukkensha’ (九間社) part of its name comes from, and means that the building is eighteen meters in length.

Note: A ‘bay’, known as a ‘ken’ () is essentially the space between columns within a building. Given that interior spaces in Japan weren’t traditionally partitioned in the same way we separate spaces in the west, they originally measured space in ‘bays’, which was of uniform length, usually just under two meters. These days, you’ll find the size of interior spaces in Japan measured by the uniform size of a Tatami mat (1.8mx0.9m).

The roof of the building, like the Hall of Worship in front of it, features an asymmetrical-gabled roof (kirizuma-yane / 切妻屋根) where it projects outward from the front of the building and connects to the roof of the Hall of Worship. The two-sided sloping roof, however, is made much more complex in that it is dual-layered on the non-gabled sides in the ‘ryonagare-zukuri’ (両流造) style that forms somewhat of an extension on either side, increasing the length of the building. Following with the roofs of the other buildings, it is covered in cedar bark, instead of copper tiles.

One of the most obvious things that sets the Main Hall apart from the other buildings within the shine is that it has been painted with a red lacquer, which makes the building shrine in the sun. The color scheme is a mixture of the red lacquer with plain white walls, and some decorative elements.

Like I said earlier, though, it’s not easy to see much of what is going on with the building given that you can’t approach it. If you plan on visiting the shrine, I recommend entering the sacred space through the tower gate, checking out the interior of that area, and then when you’re done, you can walk around the wooden fence that surrounds that space to check out the design of the roof and try to get some different views of the building.

Auxiliary Shrines (攝末社 / せつまつしゃ)

Hakozaki is home to two auxiliary shrines, known as ‘Massha shrines’ (末社 / まっしゃ), located to the rear of the main shrine. Translated literally as ‘minor’ shrines or a ‘under’ shrines, to the naked eye, they might seem considerably smaller than the main shrine, but don’t let that fool you, they’re still home to kami, which makes them quite important. As the home of kami, these miniature shrines feature all of the essential architectural elements that you’d find at a larger shrine, just on a much smaller scale. You’ll find elaborately designed roofs, stairs, doors, and other decorative elements.

In most cases, the kami who are enshrined within these spaces share a relationship with those enshrined within the larger shrine space, and their inclusion offers visitors a broader experience when visiting.

In this case, the two auxiliary shrines are known simply as the ‘Eastern Massha’ (東末社) and ‘Western Massha’ (西末社). Each of the shrines features its own shrine gate (鳥居), a set of stone guardians (狛犬), and a single building that is covered by a hip-and-gable roof, and is surrounded by a fence. Both of the buildings are split into five sections with pillars on either side of each of the shrines that help to support the weight of the roof.

Starting with the ‘Western Massha’, the building is split into the five following sections:

  1. Ryu’o-sha Shrine (龍王社) - the Dragon King (龍王), a Chinese deity of the sea and sky is enshrined within. Influenced through the spread of Buddhism in Japan from China, the Dragon King is often prayed to during periods of drought.

  2. Wakamiya Shrine (若宮殿) - the kami of performing arts is enshrined within.

  3. Emperor Chuai Shrine (仲哀殿) - a shrine dedicated to the father of Emperor Ojin.

  4. Itukushima Shrine (厳島殿) - a shrine dedicated to travel safety.

  5. Minjun Shrine (民潤社) - a shrine dedicated to the prevention of fire.

Note: The set of Stone Guardians at the Western Shrine were dedicated in 1916 (大正5年)

The ‘Eastern Massha’ is split into the five following sections:

  1. Ikeshima Shrine (池島殿) - as confusing as this might sound, this shrine is dedicated to the patrons of ‘hands’ and ‘feet’. The deities enshrined here are Kagutsuchi no Mikoto (賀具土命), Okutsuhiko no Mikoto (奥津彦命), and Okutsuhime no Mikoto (奥津姫命). Parents of young children often visit the shrine to pray for ‘strong legs’ for their child, fastening a straw sandal talisman near the altar as an offering to the three kami.

  2. Takenouchi Shrine (竹内社) - a shrine dedicated to health and longevity.

  3. Otsutsu Shrine (乙子宮) - a shrine dedicated to the kami of child birth.

  4. Sumiyoshi Shrine (住吉殿) - a shrine dedicated to the Sumiyoshi Sanjin focusing on safety while traveling at sea.

  5. Inari Shrine (稲荷神社) - a shrine dedicated to the accumulation of wealth, and the guardian deity of fields.

Note: The date that the set of Stone Guardians at the Eastern Shrine were dedicated is unknown, but what is interesting about them is that they are ‘Taiwanese’-style Stone Guardians, so it’s likely they were dedicated during the island’s Japanese Colonial Period between 1895 - 1945. I’ve tried to find information about them, but didn’t have much luck. One guess could be that they were gifted to the shrine after a ‘power-sharing’ ceremony with a Hachiman shrine that was being constructed in Taiwan.

Getting There

 

Address: 1 Chome-22-1 Hakozaki, Higashi Ward, Fukuoka 812-0053

(〒812-0053 福岡市東区箱崎1-22-1)

GPS: 24.338380, 120.590850

MAPCODE: 13 411 330*17

Telephone: 092-641-7431

While it does depend on where you’re staying when you’re in town, getting to Hakozaki shouldn’t be too much of an issue for most travelers as it is conveniently accessible via several methods of public transportation.

If you’ve rented a car, never fear, the shrine offers a considerable amount of parking spaces for visitors, so you shouldn’t have too much difficulty finding a spot, unless of course, there’s a special event taking place on the day of your visit. For the purpose of this article though, I won’t spend too much time explaining how to get there in a car. If you’re driving, simply input the MAPCODE or the telephone number provided above into your vehicle’s navigation system, and your route will be mapped out for you.

For those of you making use of Kyushu’s excellent public transportation network, as I mentioned above, you’re in luck - The shrine is accessible and within walking distance from the Fukuoka subway (福岡市営地下鉄), Japan Railway’s Kagoshima Main Line (JR鹿児島本線), JR Kyushubus (JR九州バス) and the Nishitetsu Bus (西鉄バス).

  1. Fukuoka Subway - The the Hakozaki Blue Line (箱崎線) to Hakozakimiya-Mae Station (箱崎宮前駅) and from Exit 1, you’ll find yourself emerging on the shrine’s Visiting Path, about a three minute walk from the main gate.

  2. Japan Railway’s Kagoshima Line - Getting off at Hakozaki Station (箱崎駅下車), the shrine is about an eight minute walk south of the station. You’ll find a number of signs along the streets pointing you in the direction of the shrine, so you shouldn’t have too much trouble getting there.

  3. JR Kyushubus - From Hakata Station, you’ll get on the Nogata Route (直方線) and ride the bus until you arrival at the Hakozaki Chome 1 (箱崎1丁目) stop, which is only the second stop away from the railway station.

  4. Nishitetsu Bus - Fukuoka’s largest public bus company, you’ll find a number of routes that service the shrine, so I recommend going directly to the website (linked above) and using their English-language route search to map out your route. The bus stop is located next to exit for the subway station, and is named Hakozaki (箱崎). According to Google Maps, the following routes are serviced at the stop: #1, #9, #29, #59, #61, #161

How you get to the shrine is up to you, but I can’t underscore how convenient it is getting there on the subway. The shrine is only a few stops away from the downtown core of the city, so no matter where you’re staying, finding a subway station shouldn’t be too difficult.

During our visit, like a lot of tourists, we stayed in the Tenjin (天神) area of town, so we just hopped on the subway, transferred at Nakasu-Kawabata (中洲川端駅) onto the blue line and enjoyed the ride for about five more stops before arriving at the shrine.

On the way back into town, we planned to visit the Hakata Railway Shrine (博多鐵路神社), have some ramen in the railway station, and then head over to the Sumiyoshi Shrine (住吉神社). The walk from the shrine to the JR station was about ten minutes, but it was raining, so we weren’t walking very quickly. No matter what method of public transportation you choose to take, getting to the shrine is pretty straight-forward.


References

  1. 筥崎宮 (Official Website)

  2. The Hakozaki Hachiman Shrine (Official Website English PDF)

  3. Hakozaki Shrine | 筥崎宮 中文 | 筥崎宮 日文 (Wiki)

  4. 筥崎宮の御朱印 (御朱印のじかん)

  5. Hachiman | 八幡神 中文 | 八幡神 日文 (Wiki)

  6. Hachiman shrine | 八幡宮 (Wiki)

  7. Empress Jingu | 神功皇后 中文 | 神功皇后 日文 (Wiki)

  8. Tamayori-hime | 玉依姬 中文 | 玉依毘売 日文 (Wiki)

  9. Tamayori-hime (Yokai)

  10. Fukuoka | 福岡市 中文 | 福岡市 日文 (Wiki)

  11. Mongol invasions of Japan (Wiki)

  12. Japanese Mythology: Empress Jingu (Proanon)


2023 in Review

As it has become a yearly habit, whenever December rolls around, I start thinking about what I’m going to write, and what photos I’m going to include in my year-end review, which is something that I’ve done every year that this website has been active.

Since the start of the pandemic, I’ve admittedly been a little less inclined to write anything personal, or about how I’ve been feeling - so when December came this year, I wasn’t really in the mood to get a start on this one. At the time I was in the midst of researching and writing an article, which used that as an excuse to procrastinate this one for a few weeks.

Over the years, (it seems like) readers have come to appreciate these articles, so I forced myself to head to a local coffee shop to dedicate some time to make sure I kept the tradition alive.

This year, though, I’m going to change the format a little.

Since another one of my annual traditions took place in mid-December, the photos I’ll be sharing today aren’t going to be the typical collection of photos I took throughout the year, but will (for the most part) be from the Qingshan King Festival (青山靈安尊王) celebrations in Taipei.   

As usual, I first took a look back at what I wrote in my previous reviews, to see how I was feeling, and of course, what I had planned for the upcoming year, mostly just to see if I was successful in what I set out to do.

So was 2023 a successful year for me? Well, just like last year, yes, and no..

In my previous year-end review, I said that I’d try to focus more on writing ‘travel-related’ articles that are likely to appeal to people more than the typical articles that I write. So was I successful in that? Probably not. I did make an honest attempt, though.

For example, one of my most in-depth articles of the year was one that I wrote about the Huashan Creative Park, one of Taipei’s most popular tourist attractions. The article ended up being one of the most authoritative resources about the history of the area that you’ll find online. Admittedly, though, it was just another one of my Japanese-era related research projects.

In March I took a trip to Japan, and upon my return to Taiwan, I spent the next few months working on all of the photos I took during the trip (way too many), and writing about some of the places that I visited.

One of the things that I had to learn the hard way about Japan is that its historic tourist destinations aren’t really as well-documented as they are here in Taiwan. The amount of research and translation it took to write those articles far eclipsed any of the work that I’ve done on Taiwan, and as I’m just starting to post those articles now, hopefully readers will be able to understand just how much effort went into writing them.

Being that it takes a lot more time and effort to write articles, this year was similar to the last in that the amount of articles I write and the frequency I publish them has decreased. One thing that ended up being new this year was that I allowed those ‘rabbit holes’ that I naturally just fall down in during my research to consume me a little too much.

I ended up publishing several articles this year that didn’t really have much to do with photography, but instead were meant to act as resources for some of the other articles that I have published on here. In fact, when I mentioned earlier that I was in the midst of researching and writing an article in early December, it was another one that was the result of one of those rabbit holes I found myself in while researching for an article about one of Taipei’s first places of worship, Jiantan Temple (劍潭古寺).

Before I get into some personal things about life this year, let me first explain why I’ve chosen to only focus on photos from the Qingshan King temple festival - I’ve made it a tradition to take part in the yearly festival as I have an ongoing project compiling (film) photos of the ‘The Lead Generals’ (官將首) who take part in the process.

When it comes to film, I have a couple of older cameras, including one that allows me to use the Canon EOS lenses that my digital cameras use. However, no matter what camera I’m using, the one thing that always remains the same is that I only ever use AGFA APX 100 film, which I personally consider to be one of the best monochrome rolls of film that you can (still) purchase. Every year I attend this festival, I end up spending a considerable amount of money on rolls of film, and then on processing, and because so much of the festival takes place after dark, I’d say my success rate for the photos is probably only about 25%.

So this year, I joined the hipster club and purchased a Fuji digital camera.

Hello new friend!

If you follow camera trends, you’re probably aware that Fuji’s are currently some of the most difficult cameras to buy, due to high demand, and a limited supply chain. More importantly, though, one of the reasons why the cameras have become so popular is due to the fact that they have excellent film simulation modes. After waiting for a few months, I was finally able to get a camera, and luckily it arrived a few days before the event. It was the first time in my photography career that I’ve purchased a digital camera that wasn’t a Canon, so there was a little bit of a learning curve to the process, and there was probably no better way to throw myself into the fire than to take it to one of Taiwan’s most popular temple festivals.

While the learning curve was a bit of a problem, one of the biggest differences between shooting with this camera and the typical film camera that I bring with me was that I was stuck with using a single lens - a 27mm prime lens - which meant that I had to adjust the way I took photos.

All of the monochrome photos of the generals that you’re seeing in this article are from the new camera, which I have to say, I’m quite fond of now that I’m getting the hang of it.

There were a number of reasons why I wanted to purchase a Fuji, but its film simulations were high up on the list. I enjoy the process of taking film shots, especially since you can’t instantly know what you’ve got until you have them processed. But film is also an expensive process and not exactly great for the environment, so I thought I’d try my best to make a change.

I also wanted to have a smaller camera that I could take with me anywhere I go as I’m a bit tired of taking photos with my iPhone. But the most important reason was that I’ll be transitioning entirely to mirrorless in 2024 when the new Canon R5 is released. I’ve discovered that I have some issues when it comes to these newfangled photography gadgets, so I’ll take some time over the next few months to become more acquainted with life as a mirrorless photographer.

Alright, now let’s talk about how the year has gone for me. I’m not particularly good at this, but bear with me.

Last year when I wrote my review, I mentioned my weight-loss mission. Much of this year has remained the same. I’ve continued working hard on losing weight, and I’ve spent a lot more time at the gym this year than I have with my camera in hand. In total, I’ve lost about 25 kilograms, I’m the thinnest that I’ve ever been in my adult life.

That being said, as I mentioned last year, all those years of people in Taiwan calling me fat has probably done a bit of damage to my brain. I was recently having a chat with someone new in Taiwan, and they said I was probably suffering from something called body dysmorphic disorder, something I’ve never actually heard of before. I’m not particularly into self-diagnoses, but after a bit of reading, I feel like some of the pressure I put on myself, or the way I look at myself in the mirror likely means she was right, so I hope that as the year progresses, and I continue working out that I can finally start feeling better about my progress mentally as I’m obviously doing well physically. Since it’s quite obvious that I’ve lost a considerable amount of weight, I’ve received quite a few compliments, but I’ve also received “you’re too thin” criticisms from the very same people who were recently claiming that I was too fat.

All I can say is that even though I love Taiwan, all of the body shaming that people do on a regular basis here can do a considerable amount of damage to ones psyche, and its likely that I’m suffering from a bit of that.

One of the weirder things that happened this year was that my Twitter somehow got flagged by the local Taiwanese media as either a “Famous Canadian Photographer” (知名加拿大攝影師) or a “Famous Canadian Blogger” (知名加拿大部落客). Twitter is obviously in decline since that ‘guy’ purchased it, but the number of people who follow me there has skyrocketed, and it seems like any time I have something sarcastic to say about life in Taiwan, the local media picks it up and it becomes the news of the day. I’m not sure how many times I’ve made the news this year, and its not something that I’m particularly proud of, but at some point, one of my tweets is likely to get me murdered by some crazed Internet weirdo.

I guess all of this goes hand in hand with what I do as a photographer who often works for the foreign media here, but ‘photographers’ aren’t always ‘photojournalists’, I’m just a guy who clicks buttons in the right direction at the right time. I find it ironic that anything I say becomes fodder for the local media. Nevertheless, when Twitter eventually dies, which I’m guessing will be quite soon, all of that will probably come to an end.

Speaking of which, you can now find me on Bluesky: @goteamjosh.bsky.social and if you need an invite, let me know. I have a few saved up for fellow Twitter refugees and cool people.

On that note, when it comes to social media, I’ve become even less active than last year. When I look at traffic analytics for this website, well over 95% is organic traffic from search engines and social media accounts for very little. The amount of work I do cross-posting photos and posting my articles across various networks is probably a waste of time. I rarely post anything on Facebook, and Instagram isn’t particularly a photo site anymore, so I’ve just taken a break.

As for my 2024 plans, I’m once again going to make the claim that I’ll be heading south more to visit places that have been on my list for far too long. I plan to continue writing about Taiwan’s National Forest Parks, so I’m hoping to be able to publish guides to Alishan (阿里山), Taipingshan (太平山), etc. I’ll also continue with some of the other ongoing projects that I have going on. If you read my article about Taiwan’s Remaining Japanese-era Train Stations (台鐵現存日治時期車站), you’ll probably have noticed that there are quite a few stations that don’t have links yet. This is something that I plan to solve in the new year while also continuing to update some of the already existing articles that I have published on this blog.

I’m also hoping to travel back to Japan to take part in a five-day hike, and hopefully I’ll be able to visit some other new locations, preferably in South East Asia to enjoy some beaches. Traveling back home is also on list of things I have to do as I have some weddings that I’ll need to attend.

As usual, my plans are grand, but I hope that I can be more active than I was this year.

Hopefully 2023 was good to you, and all of those around you. If you enjoy what I do, keep watching in the new year as I have some interesting articles in the queue that are almost ready to go!

Your Favorite Articles of the Year

Now that it seems like the pandemic has come to an end and the world is getting back to normal, Taiwan has reopened and with the increase in tourists coming to the country, there has also been a significant increase in the amount of traffic showing up on my website looking for information.

I’ve always considered introducing Taiwan to the outside world as a privilege, and I hope that anyone visiting this site is able to find the answers they’re looking for, or at least, the inspiration they need to make a visit.

As usual, I’m going to list the five articles that received the most traffic this year, and even though some of them are the same from years prior, there are a few newer entries that made their way onto the list, bringing some variety.

1. Taipei's Top Three Temples (台北三大廟門)

This was an article I wrote quite a few years ago when I was still new to blogging, and although it remains somewhat of a mystery to me, it seems like at some point after Taiwan reopened for tourism after the pandemic, someone shared it and it started attracting a tremendous amount of traffic.

I don’t look at my website’s traffic analytics very often, but the few times I have this year pushed me to completely rewrite the article and post new photos as I felt the original wasn’t up to my current standards.

Hopefully the newly updated article helps anyone wanting to visit Taiwan learn a little about some of the attractive tourist temples in Taipei.

2. Qixing Mountain (七星山)

Earning a spot on my Top Five list last year, my hiking guide for Taipei’s popular Qixing Mountain (七星山) has once again continued to attract quite a bit of interest. Last year, with so many people forced to travel domestically due to the pandemic, it didn’t surprise me that a blog like this would be so useful, but now that Taiwan has reopened for tourism, it has remained quite popular with people who are visiting the country and looking to climb one of the highest mountains in the north.

Qixing Mountain has always been a pretty popular mountain to climb, but even though it’s located within the capital, getting there can often be a little difficult for people who aren’t familiar with Taipei’s public transportation.

With few comprehensive travel guides to the mountain in English available, I’m guessing it continues to be helpful for quite a few people, which is great!

3. Taiwan Cherry Blossom Guide (臺灣櫻花地圖)

Once again, it was unsurprising that one of the articles that attracted the most interest this year was my comprehensive Taiwan Cherry Blossom Guide. This one has been at the top of my list for several years in a row, and as the article gets updated quite often, I make sure to keep the map that’s included updated as well. Taiwan’s cherry blossom season only lasts for the first few months of the year, but I’m happy to see that it continues to be of use to anyone wanting to enjoy the country’s natural beauty.

4. Four Beasts Hiking Trail (四獸山步道)

Another one of my popular Taipei Travel Guides, this article introduces each of the trails along the so-called ‘Four Beast Mountains,’ compiling a number of individual articles into a single guide that should offer readers all the information they need to complete the entire hike, rather than doing each of the mountains one by one.

By now, visitors to Taiwan are likely all aware of the Elephant Mountain (象山) trail, as it has become one of the city’s most important tourist attractions, however it seems like few realize that with a little more effort, you can enjoy even more nature, and better views of the city from the various peaks.

5. Taroko National Park (太魯閣國家公園)

My travel guide for the insanely popular Taroko National Park on Taiwan’s eastern coast was once of the first articles I published last year, and now that international tourism has returned to Taiwan, this guide has become one of the most popular articles on my blog. Taroko Gorge is one of those must-visit places for anyone coming to Taiwan, so it’s not particularly surprising that this comprehensive guide attracts quite a bit of attention.

That being said, I have plans to update the guide in the near future, with some more destinations, and of course, new photos. I always look forward to a trip to the east coast, so I’m hoping once my new camera comes home with me that I’ll be able to hop on a train and head east.

My Favorite Articles of the Year

Once again, to the surprise of no one, there is a stark difference between the articles that I enjoyed writing the most compared to what most of you enjoyed reading. This year, rather unexpectedly, I wrote a couple of non-photography related articles focusing on Taiwanese history, which I thought were pretty interesting subjects. I have a few more of these articles in the works, which is a new thing for me, but possibly something that I’ll continue as time passes.

Below you’ll find the five articles that I enjoyed writing the most this year:

1. Huashan 1914 Creative Park

This was an article that took me a long time to complete, and it ended up being one of the most in-depth English-languages resources available online about one of Taipei’s most popular, yet little understood, tourist attractions.

In most cases articles about the park focus on the tourist aspects of the historic distillery, but I focused on telling its history so that people can better understand what they’re seeing when the visit today.

There’s always something cool happening at Huashan, so it’s one of those places that any visitor to Taipei should spend some time checking out.

2. Taiwan’s Remaining Japanese-era Train Stations

As mentioned above, this was one of the research articles that I put together this year. I compiled a comprehensive list of the remaining railway stations around the country that have a history dating back to the Japanese-era, many of which remain in operation today, almost a century later.

Even though some of these historic stations are likely to replaced at some point, while they’re still around, they’re excellent examples of a period of Taiwan’s history that not a lot of people know about.

3. Railway Station Name Change Chart

Similar to the article above, this was another one of my random research articles that I published this year. While browsing social media one day, I came across an interesting image in one of my Taiwanese history-related groups and decided to do a deep-dive into the history of the name-changes made to settlements across the island during the Japanese-era, and beyond.

4. Ogon Shrine

After waiting several years for the iconic ‘Golden Shrine’ to re-open to the public, I finally got around to posting an in-depth article about the history, and the architectural design of this abandoned Japanese-era Shinto Shrine.

Attracting crowds of people to the North-Coast of the island for quite some time, the shrine was coincidentally one of the first Japanese-era tourist spots that I visited after my arrival in Taiwan, even though I wasn’t really aware of what I was experiencing at the time.

Until this year, I wasn’t able to publish an article about the shrine due to a lack of photos, and because it was closed to the general public for almost half a decade - now that its re-opened, it has once again become a popular tourist attraction, and can be included as part of a larger day trip to the Jiufen (九分) area.

5. Taipei Guest House

Finally, on the short list of the most iconic of Taiwan’s remaining Japanese-era buildings, the Taipei Guest House (台北賓館), which was once the official residence of the Governor-General of Taiwan, and is now operated by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. It was a spot that I’ve wanted to visit for quite some time, and I was quite happy to be able to get in on one of the rare days that it is open the public to take photos, and then write an article about its history.

If the photos weren’t already proof enough, the mansion is absolutely beautiful, and its architectural design is a masterpiece of its era.

Now that I’ve got the Guest House out of the way, I have plans to check out one of its other iconic neighbors, the Presidential Palace.

My Favorite Photos of the Year

You’re likely to notice a bit of a theme with the photos I personally enjoyed taking the most this year as they’re almost all from my trip to Japan. I was always a little afraid to visit Japan because I figured I’d pretty much fall in love and never want to leave, or at least, all of my future trips abroad would be in that direction. Suffice to say, those fears became reality, and I’m already planning my next trip to the country. However, after my experience this year, I’m not particularly looking forward to the amount of time it will take to write articles about the places on my list to visit.

The photos you’ll see here are mostly going to be from destinations that I’ll be publishing articles about in the near future, so if you like what you see, keep your eye out for the articles that appear.

This photo was taken on the Northern Coast of Kyushu at the Usa Grand Shrine (宇佐神宮), one of the most important Shinto Shrines in Japan. Taken along the visiting route, it’s a film shot of a young Japanese family walking towards a massive shrine gate, which is one of the iconic images of this particular shrine.

This photo was taken on the last night of our trip to Japan, when we got to enjoy the cherry blossoms in full bloom at the annual Fukuoka Cherry Blossom Festival. While there are some obvious problems with the photo that I wasn’t very happy with, I love the colors and the lighting that was set up so that we could all enjoy the blossoms well into the evening. It was my first experience seeing sakura in Japan, but also one of my first experiences taking photos of them at night time, so I’m a big fan of this one.

While visiting Usa Grand Shine mentioned above, we found ourselves walking along a quiet lake-side. As we walked, we came across another small path, which featured its own shrine gate at the entrance.

The path was forested, and quite dark, so I figured it would make for an excellent film shot. The shrine gate itself is red and quite bright, so it contrasted quite well with the dark nature environment around it and made me wonder where the path would take you if you walked up it.

For a bit of variety, this photo was taken during this year’s 2023 Taiwan LGBT Pride (臺灣同志遊行) in Taipei. I try to take part in the annual event whenever I can, because let’s face it, it’s really fun. As usual, one of my favorite aspects of the parade are the Queens that take part.

Taiwan’s Drag Queen scene is really vibrant and creative, and every year they go out of their way to come up with something new. Given that the parade typically coincides with Halloween weekend, the costumes that they come up with for the event are always really cool, and they also work really hard to incorporate Taiwanese culture and history into whatever they’re doing. In this case, we had a riff on a Taiwanese temple parade with a Mazu-like Goddess being paraded around on her heavenly palanquin.

Even though there isn’t really anything special about the photo technically-speaking, I have to give massive props to the creativity.

The day before leaving Taiwan for Japan, we checked the weather forecast, and were a bit worried as it was calling for rain for the entire duration of our time in the country. Fortunately, we got lucky and it only rained a bit during the mornings, and on the day we scheduled a visit to Fukuoka’s historic Hakozaki Shrine (筥崎宮).

This shot was taken on the side of the Main Shrine while we were looking for some protection from a sudden downpour during our visit. Even though it rained that day, it was still really nice, and I feel like the photos turned out quite well in spite of the weather.

That’s all for this year, once again I hope 2023 was a good one for you and yours, and hopefully the coming year will be even better for all of us!

Happy New Year everyone! 新年快樂!