“What’s in Nara?” you ask? “What’s in Nara?” I asked, several times to a variety of people. “A deer park and a giant Buddha statue,” was the extent of the answers I got to this question from them. More than one of them said it was somewhere they went on a school trip during their primary school days, but not somewhere they ever returned to. This city was as much a mystery to me as it was the first time I visited a few years ago. The only places I went to on that occasion were the deer park and giant Buddha statue.
To get there, I first I had to take a highway bus to Osaka. Highway bus experiences can be hit or miss in any country you ride them, and this one was a miss. A little girl was sitting in my seat, its number assigned to me by the driver. I looked at the mother sitting opposite, who was busy talking to the other woman beside her until she noticed me and called the girl away. That girl had to move three times because she was sitting in other people’s seats, each time the passenger looking at the mother until she noticed. She eventually settled on her mother’s lap. I’m not sure she even had a ticket. An older woman took her seat beside me, and when the strength of her perfume swiftly induced a headache, I knew it was going to be a long ride. It wasn’t nice perfume either; it was that old lady perfume. You know the one.
Not wanting to waste any precious exploration time, I went straight for the train upon my arrival at Osaka Station. It took around thirty minutes to get to Nara via one of the frequent express trains. I anticipated the view out of the windows would consist of a grey sprawl, where it would be impossible to distinguish where Osaka ended and Nara began. I was very wrong, and as the buildings slowly petered out to green, open fields and mountains, I tried hard to remember how I got to Nara all those years ago. All I could know for sure was that it definitely wasn’t the express train.
The time told me I still had a few hours before I could check-in to the hotel, and when I entered the main street, I knew I wasn’t going to spend those hours at the deer park, or the giant Buddha statue. The sheer number of people turning right and heading up the hill was enough to dispel any notion that it was going to be a “good time.” And so, I turned left, where the rest of the city awaited.
Forty-five minutes away was Heijō Palace, which I’d passed by on the train, and where served as the Imperial residence when Nara was Japan’s capital in the 8th century during the aptly named “Nara Period.” Forty-five minutes sounded like a long walk, and it was. A terrible walk, even. I should’ve got off the train earlier. It was a straight road with two or three lanes of traffic on either side that quickly became nothing more than a commercial strip intended solely for cars that only an actual moron would walk down. So I kept walking, occasionally drifting into the residential back streets for a change of scenery, until finally reaching the former Imperial site.
There wasn’t much here either. A map showed it to be a series of very large and very empty courtyards enclosed by a wall, and separated by enormous gates. Reconstruction of the site began in 1998 and is still ongoing as of writing, with a strict focus on accurate replication of the original design. Fortunately, they have quite a lot of historic material to work from to make the job a bit easier. What makes it interesting is that it took its influence from the Chinese capital, Chang-an, during the Tang dynasty, making this site different from most of the other historic sites in Japan.
It took around two hours to walk around the whole place, simply because there was so much land to cover. But it was pleasant and peaceful, with mountains and tall grass and trees surrounding the site, only broken by the occasional train that ran right through the middle of it. Who’s idea was that? As a bonus, it was virtually free of tourists. Or at least it was so wide and open that it certainly seemed that way. At the very end was the palace, recreated in the same ancient techniques, right down to the exquisite roof tiles, each one's pattern carved to perfection.
After circling around back to the entrance again, the view of that commercial strip induced some kind of mental distress that must’ve been quite visible, as a helpful local man approached and directed me towards the bus that ran back to the station. Due to the traffic, it took nearly as long as it did to walk, but it only cost ¥100 so I couldn’t complain.
Nara Park still looked too crowded when I peered up at the sizeable crowds ascending the stairs, so I went for some lunch instead. I ate a very traditional Japanese BBQ cheese burger at Monks On The Moon. Verdict: Yum. This was also my first time trying root beer, and while I’ve forgotten what brand it was, I gotta say, it tasted like dumpster juice. Thanks America.
My hotel was conveniently located right beside the deer park, so after I checked-in and freshened up, I went to see my antlered friends. The plan to wait until after the morning slash afternoon rush proved a success, as more people were leaving than entering. I walked through the wooded area, where people posed with the deer resting along the edges of the path, and gingerly approached the larger herds, looking for that perfect (camera) shot. I walked into the woods and watched a group (of deer, not people), mostly sleeping, beside a small building.
We’re told that Nara deer are wild, but with how accustomed they are to people, and how each and every one of us is now associated with delicious crackers, it’s hard to say they’re any more wild than your standard farm animal. The only time I saw any make any sudden moments around people was when two free range toddlers went charging towards some fawns, causing them to flee just a few yards to safety.
The wooded path looked a little too crowded, like hordes of paparazzi following celebrities around, so I jumped the irrigation ditch and entered a large, open picturesque field. Barely anyone was over here, so it wasn’t surprising to see a mass congregation of deer grazing peacefully. The vibrant grass fading into darker bushes and trees, and distant green mountains felt refreshing. I almost slipped into the endless sea of deer droppings a few times while making my way down the hill for some photos. They don’t tell you about all the droppings, but I am, it’s everywhere.
Just a stone’s throw away, the other big attraction in Nara sat inside the Buddhist temple complex, Todai-ji. Founded in 728, it’s much like Heijō Palace in that its style is an imitation of Tang dynasty architecture. In 743, Emperor Shōmu order the construction of what would become, and remain to this day, the largest bronze station of the Buddha Vairocana. And I can confirm, this thing is big, so big, in fact, that it takes several people using rappel lines to clean it. There was a group of primary school students running around, some taking notes, others admiring the cool statues in their own childish way, and I wondered if their future selves would ever return to these hallowed grounds.
Everything about it feels grandiose. The open garden and path out front, Nandaimon Gate with its guardian statues, and inside the main hall, Daibutsuden, with its giant Buddha surrounded by smaller, but still big, statues. Fires, lightning, earthquakes, and war damaged large parts of the site over the years, damage that included the Buddha’s head falling off during an earthquake in 855. The site’s entire existence was threatened even as late as 1868 when the Meiji government issued a Separation Edict which disassociated Buddhism and Shintoism, and involved the confiscation of temple lands.
Where earlier in the day I endured the scourge of the never-ending highway commercial strip, I spent the rest of the day in and around the station area, browsing the wares of souvenir shops and thinking about how good the street food smelled. These labyrinthine streets were barely wide enough for a single car to get through, and many of the bars and restaurants exhibited Edo era-style exteriors, whose illuminated washi-covered doors and windows concealed the audible merriment of jovial voices and laughter beyond.
The peaceful nature of the night was a stark and welcome contrast to what had come before it. The streets, tightly packed with bodies, now became a place where a fraction of that number strolled freely without care. Part of me was tempted to go back to the deer park, but I couldn’t remember seeing any lights up there, so decided against it.
Update: I’ve just Googled it and there are indeed some illuminated areas, and they look pretty nice too. Shame.
